The Loft

May 7th, 1826 – Strawberry, California

“Another hot day?” Randall asked his Pa with disheartened sighs.

“Whether it was cold, or whether it was hot, you’d be sweatin’ the same, son.” His father, Randall Senior said across the kitchen table. “Bitchin’ about lack a clouds ain’t never helped nobody.”

“Rand,” Junior’s mother, Amelia, piped in with a song in her tune, “it is far too early for you to be this much of a grump.” She leaned over her husband from behind, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and neck and gently patted his chest. “The boy just wants to talk to his daddy.” Whenever she walked away, Senior always missed her. She was the only tempting thing in life he would never refuse. She was beautiful, and Junior wouldn’t just say it because Amelia’s his mother. Her dusty blonde hair was always meticulously kept and the dresses she chose to wear, although antiques, were nothing short of stunning. She was as short as she was petite.

Senior looked at Junior, “Why ain’t you been out to feed the hogs yet?”

“Ma wanted me to eat breakfast,” Junior said.

“I caught him right before he was about to head out the door, dear,” Amelia chimed in, “now pipe down and eat your biscuits,” she finished by playfully throwing the dish rag at him.

“It’s alright, Ma. I’m full anyhow, so I’ll make sure the hogs get fed right away. Sorry, pa.” His father’s eyes locked on his and the happiness drained from his face. The boy didn’t even get a thumbs up, he just got half a grunt, and a hand waved at him.

Randall Amadeus Calhoun Senior was an interesting character to say the least. His attitude did not match his height, as he lacked a substantial amount of growth. His bright orange hair lay thin and lazy on his scalp while his beard was wirey with splotches of grey. Senior loved Amelia with all his heart and Junior never questioned it. There were nights he could hear his father giggling like a little kid with his mother as they both sat before the fireplace, cuddled up, and spending the entire time reminding Amelia that he wouldn’t know what to do without her.

Senior didn’t hate Junior, but golly Junior questioned it a lot of the time. His father was strict, monotone, and unforgiving when it came to his antics. Junior was always respectful, but he also wanted to be a kid from time to time. He loved to read books under his favorite shade tree in one of the fields. He had friends around town that would love to see him more. His dad’s idea of being young, however, is preparing to care for a family and how to manage a homestead. Which would be fine if Junior wasn’t only 19.

Against his father, Junior on the other hand was well over his father's height at a prime 6’4 and kept his stoutness at roughly 280 pounds. Strong as an Ox, he lofted bales with ease as he stared off through the open barn doors at the sun hiding behind the mountains. Luckily, he did not get his fathers bright red hair, but his strands were a deep rust color that accented his lighter blue eyes. He couldn’t help but to hate on the days his father had buyers coming to look at their cattle because they all choked the same lines.

“Got dam, Calhoun! Did you build this little fella in the local steel mill?”

“Senior, why ain’t your boy lumberjackin’ yet?!”

Junior knew they meant no harm, only complimenting his stature and stoutness, as he was also an “all-around” big kid. But, gosh he hated it. He’d never dare to bite back or show anything but a smile and a chuckle. He felt almost like he belonged in one of those circus traveling shows. Aside from himself, the tallest person in the whole town was 5’9. All the girls in school he ever fell fond for hated the idea of being looked down upon. His buddies ran their mouths too much to the other group of boys in town because they knew he would always have their back. He was used a lot. At least, that’s what he felt. His father needed his muscles for labor, his friends needed him to fight their battles, and everyone else needed him to stay around so they all had something to point at.

As he was feeding the hogs, the wagons of buyers began to roll up the long drive. Their heads could be seen darting around looking for their dibs on the largest stock on hand. They had some very impressive bulls this year. The dust of red clay and soil lofted behind the carts since they hadn’t seen a good rain in a couple weeks. Once the traveling crew drew closer, his father stepped outside and tightened his belt one last time and began walking past Junior. “Come on, boy, let’s get after it.”

During this dance of dollars, Junior’s main job was to say his hello’s, hear the remarks about his size, and offer to help with anything. Senior would always decline, thank Junior for being a good kid, and pat him on the back as he jogged off to finish his chores. “As a reminder, this is Travis Carlisle and his family.”

“THE Travis Carlisle?” Junior shouted sarcastically. Senior actually managed to laugh a little and jokingly pop his son in the stomach. Maybe it’ll be a good day after all. The Carlisle’s found their resting place next to the hay barn and quickly disembarked from the carriages to stretch their legs. Junior watched as his father hobbled over to them all, introduced himself while pointing at his son making the introduction on his behalf, and then directing the family to begin looking at their prized angus cattle.

Junior casually walked towards the hay barn and began his last bout of lofting hay up top to the barn. He could use the pulley system his father's friend made but tossing them up was far faster. He walked into the barn while readjusting the tightness of his suspenders over the shoulders of his white cotton button up and got to work.

There was a tune stuck in Junior’s head that he heard crawling out of one of the saloons in town late one night when he was walking home from a friend's house. He couldn’t help but to hum it while he worked. So he did, and he counted down the seconds until he was finished. Three left, he thought to himself. He grabbed ahold of one and threw it with great force up and over. Two left, he thought once more as he tossed the bale with ease. One mo— and while he was mid swing, a passerby interrupted him.

She was the most incredible girl he had ever seen. Aside from his mother, of course. Her long, brown hair shimmered in the mid morning sunlight, and it gave her a halo that was delicately crowned upon her head. Her dress was the softest white in the world with lining in a velvety shade of turquoise. She didn’t walk, she glided ever so slightly above the ground beneath her. Freckles crawled across her face and arms. She was the perfect size to rest comfortably next to him after a long days work. With the bombardment of beauty, he lost track of himself and forgot to release his grip on the barrel and the poor kid flung himself forward into one of the open horse stalls.

The girl heard the thud, realized what happened while noticing his boots hanging out of the entry, and began rushing in to help. “Oh, dear,” she said in a panic, “are you alright?” Her voice was soft and angelic. “Here, let me hel—“ She found herself losing words as Junior rolled over to meet her gaze. She was awe struck. “My word, you’re the most beautiful boy I think I ever saw.” The two kids stared into one another and met a smile with a smile, and a laugh with a laugh. Her cheeks grew rosy, and her hazel eyes popped.

“I’m so sorry,” Junior said as he was standing up, “did you just call me beautiful?”

“Yes,” she said somehow managing to blush more as she plucked hay out of his hair and flicked them off his shirt. “I sure hope that’s okay?” She batted her eyelashes.

“Uh, sure…sure it is! I just know normally that men get called handsome and girls get called beautiful.”

“Well, every man is handsome in their own way,” she began to say with sweet candidness, “but only the special ones are beautiful.” His cheeks turned beet red. Junior couldn’t help but to feel like a coward, but no one has ever made him feel this pleasantly nervous before. He stared at his hands instead of looking her in the eyes. Not because he didn’t want to, but she was so gorgeous that he thought he might cry if he stared at her again.

Junior extended his hand to shake hers, “I’m Junior,” he said quicker then he wanted to, “it’s nice to meet you. Thank you for all the help.” She giggled and shook his hand. When she grabbed it, she also used her other hand to cover the back of his palm. Her fingers moved as if they were looking for something.

“Junior isn’t your name. Just because you and your daddy share the same one, doesn’t mean you should hide behind the title of Junior. What’s your name?”

“Randall.”

“I’m Annie,” she nearly whispered. They didn’t realize for the rest of the conversation that they continued holding hands. Gosh, she was beautiful. Not only looks, but she radiated kindness and faithfulness. He could tell her all his darkest secrets at this very moment and if he never saw her again, he knew she would never tell a soul. Annie was different. He’s seen girls in town his age and what they expect out of men his age. Annie was independently made. “Do you live here?”

“In the barn,” Junior asked nervously, “oh gosh, no. I live in that house over there with my folks.” She laughed knowing it was an answer stemming from nerves.

“You’re funny. Do you have time to sit?”

“I’m sorry, I would really like to, but can I ask you first why you’re here? Not that I’m not happy or nothin’ of the sort, I just—“

“You’re okay,” a friendly interjection, “I’m with my family looking at cattle today.”

“Oh, cool. So, you’re a Carlisle?”

“Sure am. So, you’re a Calhoun?”

“Yes, ma’am.” She laughed at the cuteness of how polite he is.

“I like that last name. It sounds like home.” If he kept blushing this hard, he would be bound to turn into a tomato. “Are you still okay to sit?”

“Sure,” he pointed up to the hay loft, “but all of the bales are up top.”

“Well,” she said slowly releasing his hands, “is there a ladder around here or do you jump as high as you throw?” They laughed and climbed the ladder until they found a cozy spot she liked. The breeze was enough to keep the top half cool. She continued to stare at him and smile, and he couldn’t help but to do the same. “I’ve known you before,” she said leaning back into another bale, “I’ve known you before, I’m just sure of it.”

“What makes you say that? You been to Strawberry before? You could’ve seen me runnin’ around town, maybe.”

“No, it’s not like that,” she tried to explain, “I haven’t met you before until you dove into that stall. But I’ve known you before. I don’t know where, but I feel like this isn’t the first time we’ve known each other. Do you believe in past lives?”

“In what?”

“You know: past lives? People say that we aren’t just meant to live on the Earth just once because there’s so much to do and see. So, God lets us come back down other times so we can see what we missed the first go around.”

“Okay?”

“So, that means there are people who are bound to bump into other people from their past life. And I feel like that’s the only way I can know you as well as I do already.”

“Like, we were ghost lovers or somethin’ like that?” She laughed so hard that it grew contagious. She understood that he had grown up differently then her. Different levels of school systems, fine dining, etc. He remained honest with every conversation, every sentence, and it was authentically naïve in the sweetest way possible.

“Sure, Randy,” she finally said. “Ghost lovers, we were.” No one had ever called him Randy before. She was the only one who was allowed to from now on. “Tell me all about yourself, please? I would love to hear it. I just want to shut my eyes for a bit and listen to you speak.”

The entire thing was odd in the most fantastic way possible. Why wasn’t Junior worried? A girl he’s never met before comes stumbling into his family barn and wants to talk about love and whatever the hell a past strife is and he’s just supposed to be okay with this? But he’ll be damned if he wasn’t okay with it. He spilled his guts. About his father, the work he’s doing, and the places he would love to go. His love for books, how he draws little stick figures in the dirt, and his biggest fears. His favorite memory, his favorite cow, and his favorite season. It turns out they are practically the same person.

Annie opened so easily and returned the favor. She released her favorite color, her greatest ambitions, and about how important it’s for her to be a mother when the time is right. She felt that she’s always been surrounded by money, but she’s never been lonelier. He wanted to know everything about her, and as soon as possible, so the two could get through the beginning stage and spend the rest of the time holding hands and falling in love. What the hell was the matter with him?

She began to run her hands around his hands and massage it in a way. She pulled his fingers slowly apart and felt how comfortable her hand could be in his. Annie really liked how they fit. He really liked how she really liked how they fit. “So in this past strife,”

“Past life,” Annie corrected giggling.

“Life, right,” Randy forced through a laugh, “do you think you and I were possibly in love?”

“It depends,” she asked blushing. “What does love mean to you?” He wasn’t afraid to be honest anymore. He could be himself and that was more than enough for Annie.

“I think it might be what I’m feeling right now, if I’m being straightforward. It’s not knowing how you could fit so well with someone else that you have no choice but to grab each others' hands and run with it as far as it’ll take you. Love won’t keep us restricted to a hay loft, but it’ll let us explore the world. The only fear we’ll have is the fear of losing one another. I think that if we weren’t meant to fall in love, and we weren’t together in a past life, then I don’t understand how I felt the way I did when I saw you look over at me and lock eyes. I think love isn’t a thing. I think it’s a person. And I know that person is you, Annie.”

She jumped into his lap and wrapped her arms around him. She wouldn’t let go. He didn’t want her to let go. She kissed his cheek with soft lips and pressed her forehead to his. “If that’s the case, I think we had the chance of being in love,” Annie followed, “And I think we’re in love right now.”

The two held each other for a long period of time, they made sure not to keep track. Business could be heard being done outside the barn, but they could care less. They joked, they cried, they kissed. The connection between both of their hearts was something neither could control which should be ridiculous since they only met for the first time an hour ago. Both of them were so exhausted from being without one another that now they sit side by side. They both fell asleep in the loft. Randy chimed in asking, “What the hell are we going to tell our parents?”

Both of them laughed uncontrollably until they fell back asleep.