Cats Have Staff: the Staff

By Woodmanone: copyright March 2025

I thought I was pretty much done writing but that pesky minx, Randi, keeps dragging me into special stories. Bless her, it gives me the: motivation to get off my butt and write again; at least for her collection.

This is my entry to her latest event "Legend's Day: One More".

The story has been self edited due to a couple of things. First as I mentioned above, I'm not writing much anymore and time constraints caught up to me. Second, the kind gentlemen who offered to help by editing in January, 2016 has passed away. He became more than an editor he became a good friend and I miss him.

Constructive comments, critiques, and emails are welcome and appreciated.

Thank you for taking the time to read and comment on my story.

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As with many people in the US, I watched the events of 9/11 with shock, sadness, compassion and a great deal of anger. So much anger that on September 13, I enlisted in the Army and went to war.

War will teach you many things about yourself. As Corporal Heath Daniels, I'd learned that I could function and reason even when I was so afraid that I wanted to throw up and pee down my leg. I'd learned that a person could and would force themselves to do amazing things because of a sense of duty. Courtesy of war, I had a run in with an IED just outside of Fallujah, Iraq, a confrontation that I lost. Consequently, I was medically discharge and given a disability pension because my left leg didn't work normally anymore. Mostly I could control my limp, but when I was tired it showed. Hell of an education for a 23-year-old boy.

I did what I felt was my duty, but all in all, I had about all the lessons from war that I care to. I've learned enough for a lifetime.

After coming back to the world and rehab, I tried to rejoin the rat race. My college degree was in Business Management and I went to work for the bank I'd been employed by before my enlistment. I found that computing compound interest, or saying good morning to surly demanding customers and explaining why I, the bank, couldn't approve a loan for a deserving or even undeserving customer, didn't seem all that important anymore. My attempt lasted about a year, and I decided the hell with it.

I was no longer the bright eyed, bushy tailed, young man I had been. Now I was a seasoned war veteran with little of the joy and anticipation of most young people. I thought about things other than the climb up the corporate ladder. The disability pension enabled me to do what I wanted, as long as I didn't play like one of the rich and famous. What I wanted was to travel around the US anywhere and anytime. So now, with a strong belief in Carpe Diem, I bought a Harley, sold everything that I couldn't fit on the bike and hit the road.

I could get by on the disability check, which was direct deposited in my bank in St. Louis, so I didn't have to work. If I found someplace that I liked, sometimes I'd get a job, usually in construction, and hang around until the urge to move on hit me. Then I would pack the saddlebags on my Harley and ride off into the sunset.

People seeing me on my Heritage Softtail Classic probably thought I was an outlaw biker; of course, not many outlaw bikers ride a full dressed Harley. At a little over average height at 6' 3 and wearing a leather vest with "Born to Hang" on the back, I understood why people would think I was a "Hell's Angel" or something as sinister. I've got dark brown eyes and black hair worn long so it comes down over my collar. I'm broad at the shoulder and narrow at the hip and no one gives any lip.... Wait, that's lyrics to a song. My shoulders are wide but my waist isn't as narrow as it had been in the Army; too many fast-food burgers and fries, I guess. I'm not fat but I'm not the hard body I'd been in the service; few men are.

For three years I traveled the country with no plans, no agenda, and no deadlines. There were places in the southwest and on the west coast I visited that I'd always wanted to; I even made a short trip to Mexico. It was on my way back east that I found myself in an area I knew well. I was cruising through Heber Springs, a town in north-central Arkansas, about 70 miles north of Little Rock. It sat in a valley surrounded by very high hills or small mountains: your point of view was tainted by where you were from. To the people of Colorado, used to the Rocky Mountains, they were hills; to the people from the flat land of Kansas, they were mountains.

Heber Springs was a farming town. and had developed a robust tourist trade, as much of the community borders Greer's Ferry Lake. The Greer's Ferry dam was built by the Army Corp of Engineers and finished in 1962. The reason it was built was for flood control of the Little Red River. The lake has 340 miles of shore line and is a recreational paradise.

My grandparents had lived in Higdon, a small farming community, when the dam was built. The lake that would back up behind Greer's Ferry Dam when it was completed would put the small town under 200 feet of water. The land and town were purchased by the government, and the residents moved up into the hills that would surround the new lake. Not wanting to live near their flooded farm and home, my grandparents moved to Heber Springs. They were gone, but they had purchased a house just off the town square with the money received for their farm in Higdon. I spent most of my summers with them from age 7 to age 18, when I got too cool to go live in that hick town.

My grandparents left their home to me when they passed. Their funeral when I was 21 was the last time I'd been there. I listed the property with a realtor and received a check for it about a year later. I was now 26 and hadn't been to Heber Springs for five years. It hadn't changed much in that time. I doubted that the kids I'd hung with stayed in Heber Springs. The last year, when I was 17, that I visited my grandparents, all most of them could talk about was getting out of town. I hadn't seen any of them at the funeral.

The town had prospered without becoming a boom area; the perfect small-town community. In the center of town was a park that was a city block on each side. It was all shade trees, hickory and oak mostly, and large grass areas for picnics and such. One end of the park had a small playground for children, with slides and swings and seesaws.

In the middle of "The Springs Park" was a roofed pavilion with a poured concrete floor. The springs the town was named for flowed into natural troughs under this pavilion. The water from these springs, there are three of them, was available to any and all residents; or to visitors and tourists. Many of the old timers of Heber Springs and the surrounding area swore by the medicinal qualities of those three springs.

Spring number one had a mild sulfur content, and people drank the water like others would buy bottled water. People would come from all over, some as far away as 30 miles, to fill milk jugs, coolers and water bottles, and then they would take the water for home use. Everyone who drank the water swore it helped flush out the toxins they'd absorbed out of their bodies.

Spring number two was called White Springs because of an almost milky appearance and the higher concentration of sulfur. Again, people came from miles around to fill containers with the water to take home. White Springs water was a diuretic and a mild laxative, so people didn't drink the water until they needed to. Sort of a delicate subject, but this problem is something everyone has experienced. Still, the old timers would drink a large glass every three or four days. Many of these people grew up in a time when there weren't that many doctors, so they had to treat themselves.

Spring number three was marked with a warning sign. That is Black Springs, and it had a heavy concentration of black sulfur. My grandfather said you would drink a large glass of it, put one had over your mouth, one hand over your butt, and head for the bathroom. If you were lucky, you'd make it before an accident happened.

I stopped at the park and walked to the pavilion. There was a dipper hanging on a post next to each of the springs. I took a dipper of spring number one and drank it. It had a medicine-like taste and reminded me of when I was young and carefree. The biggest worry I had back then was if we were going to be able to go to Greer's Ferry Lake for fishing.

The bitter taste of the water made me grimace and as I turned, I saw a pretty girl trying to hide her laughter at the look on my face.

"It's not nice to laugh at people, especially strangers," I said with a grin.

"I'm sorry," she said holding out a hand to add emphasis to her apology. Then she ruined it and broke up laughing again. "Y'all just looked so funny," she offered when she got control of herself.

Her voice had that country girl, southern style drawl, even though we weren't in the Deep South. The words slid out slowly like molasses and felt really good on your ears.

I took the extended hand, which I'm sure she didn't intend, and I notice a look of concern on her face. Shaking the hand I said, "I'm Heath Daniels, your comic relief for the morning." Then I released her hand.

She smiled and asked, "Heath? That's an unusual name. "

"Yeah, unfortunately my mother was an English Lit major in college and fell in love with Emily Bronte's works." I have no idea why I went into so much detail except that I felt an instant connection with her.

"You mean like Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights?"

I nodded, no longer embarrassed by my name or the jokes about it; I'd been living with it for all my life.

"I'm Alyssa Jennings, and I am sorry for laughing at y'all, Heathcliff," she said, still smiling. Alyssa got a more serious look on her face. "There's a storm coming in." She pointed over my shoulder.

I turned and saw a dark gray and black cloud of a summer thunderstorm slowly drifting over the mountains west of the town. There was lightning flashing in the cloud and as it blocked out the sun in the valley, it started to rain.

Walking toward her car, Alyssa said, "Nice to meet you Heathcliff, but I need to get home and close some windows. It's gonna be a gully washer and the wind is gonna blow hard. Y'all better go too."

"Got no place to go," I replied. "I'll just sit it out right here."

As I hurried to my Harley, Alyssa honked at me and drove away. I started my bike and rode it under the pavilion, out of the weather. Not as good as a garage, but at least it's better than letting it sit out in the wind and rain, I thought. Hope nobody minds me parking here. A Heber Springs Police patrol car slowly drove past the park. The officer looked at me, waved his hand and drove on. I sat on a picnic bench and watched the storm roll across the valley. Alyssa was right; the rain came in torrents and the wind blew very hard. After about 25 minutes, the black clouds passed and the sun came out.

There was a rainbow over the town and the sky was full of puffy clouds and color. "The blue sky looks like a watercolor painting, with all the reds, yellows and white clouds," I said aloud.

I got up, wiped down the bike where a few stray drops of rain had hit and threw a leg over the seat. Starting the Harley, I carefully rode back to the street and turned for the town center. There had been a very good diner across from city hall that served the best food in the county; I wanted to see if it was still there.

Belle's BBQ stand looked just like it did the last time I was here. Sure hasn't changed much, I said to myself, as I got off my bike in front of the old time eatery. Stepping inside, I thought, Ain't done much with the interior fixtures either.

The BBQ joint was in an old diner that had gone out of business more than 20 years previously. Belle bought the small building for a song and Belle's BBQ was born. There was a counter with stools on the right as you entered and a row of booths against the left wall. In the middle of the room between the counter and the booths were five tables that would seat four people at each one. The counter's laminate top had worn through to the wood backing in several places. You could tell which of the stools were the favorites by the worn counter in front of them.

The booths and tables weren't in much better condition. The tabletops in the booths were wood, covered by faded worn linoleum and some of the benches had splits in the vinyl seats which had been repaired with duct tape. The center tables had the same linoleum tops and few of the chairs matched.

"My kind of place," I said in a low voice as I found a seat at a corner booth. The smell of BBQ flowed like a wave from the service opening behind the counter.

A woman of indeterminate age came through a set of full-length swinging doors to the right of the opening. Her hair had once been a bright red, almost orange in fact, but age had faded it and changed much of the color to gray; although she still had the piercing cornflower blue eyes. Other than the gray streaks in her hair, Belle hadn't changed much either, I thought. About the same build: round, as when I was a kid; maybe a few more wrinkles.

She heard the tinkle of the bell over the entry door when I came in. She looked up and saw me sitting in the booth, grabbed a glass and a pitcher of ice water and walked over. Setting the glass on the table, she poured and ice chunks clinked into the glass with the water.

"The usual, Heath?" she asked with a grin.

"Hello, Belle. Yeah, that'd be great."

Belle turned toward the service opening and yelled, "Jasper, give me a Carolina pulled pork sandwich with steak fries and beans; extra sauce on the side." She turned back to me and asked, "What to drink?"

"Sweet tea, large glass please."

"Be right back," Belle replied and went to get my drink. She brought back what looked must have been a half gallon glass of tea. "When'd you get back?"

"Rode in today; stopped by Spring Park and got caught in the thunderstorm."

Belle smiled and punched me on the arm. "Been sorta dull around here without you raising hell. Gonna stay for a spell?"

"Don't really know. Got no particular place to go and lots of time to get there. Been like a tumbleweed the last three years. Maybe I'll hang around for a while. Course, I might hit the road tomorrow, too."

"Been nine years since you stayed with your grandparents and five years since their funeral. What have you been doing with yourself?"

I thought about glossing over the last three years, but Belle was one of the good people and deserved an answer. Just as I finished telling her about my stint with the Army, Jasper yelled, "Order up." Belle brought my food. "Good to see you, Heath. Now put yourself around that sandwich. I'll talk to you later."

Belle gave me a chance to "put myself around that sandwich" and then slid into the booth across from me. She put a slice of apple pie, looked like a quarter of the pie, in front of me. "On the house; I remember how much you used to like my pies."

Swallowing a huge bite of the pie, I said, "Belle, I'd marry you just for your pies."

"Don't think you could keep up with me, youngster," she replied with a laugh. "Sides, I don't think Jasper would cotton to the idea much."

"You and Jasper together?" I asked, more out of politeness than anything. "Must be a hell of a man to have landed you," I teased.

"After Earl died four years ago, I was working myself to the bone trying to keep the place open. Jasper came through town and asked for a job. Guess seeing each other for twelve hours a day sorta brought us together. Been married going on three years now."

Jasper stuck his head through the service opening, and asked, "I hear my name being bandied about?"

"Shut up and get back to work, lazy bones," Belle yelled, good naturedly.

A laugh and a "Yes Dear" was his only response, and he disappeared back into his lair.

Belle talked as I finished the pie; telling me about the few changes in Heber Springs since I'd been there. "Most all of your crowd left when they got out of school or turned 18." She paused for a bit and added, "Lea is still here, though. Moved back after her divorce and got a place out by the county line."

The name brought back memories, some pleasant some not, of my visits to my grandparents. Lea Watkins and I had been... well, Lea and Heath since I was 11. During the summer months if you saw one of us, look close, and you'd see the other. We only had the summers and a few holidays to be together, but it was understood that we were a pair. The fall and winter months were just an interruption until we could be together again. That was the way it was until the summer I turned 17.

I came roaring into town the day after school let out in my "new" car: a beat up 56 Chevy Biscayne. The car's body needed work, but the engine and drive train were solid. It had been a present from my folks. After stopping at my grandparents, the first place I headed was to Lea's house.

"Hello, Heath," Mrs. Watkins said when she answered my knock on the door. "Back for the summer again?"

"Hi, Mrs. Watkins. Yeah, I'm here again. Is Lea at home?" I saw a sort of cloud cross her face.

"Lea's at the ballgame with some friends. Why don't you come back tomorrow?"

"Naw, I'll just go over to the game and meet her. Thanks Mrs. Watkins, see you later."

I almost ran to my car and headed for the American Legion ball diamond. As I stepped to the bottom of the bleachers, I could see Lea and some others sitting in the top row. Taking the steps, two at a time, I joined them.

"Hey Lea, I'm back," I said. I expected her to get up, hug me and sit down beside me. That wasn't what I got.

"She's with me now, Heath," Billy Sims said, stood and stepped between Lea and I.

"The hell you say," I responded. "Better sit down, Billy, fore you get more than you bargained for."

He turned sideways, still between Lea and me, and ordered, "Ask her yourself."

Lea had her head down and didn't look up until I called her name.

"Lea?"

"I'm sorry, Heath, but Billy and I are going steady now," she said and finally looked at me. There were tears in her eyes.

"So you best just run along," Billy told me and put his hand on my shoulder to push me away. The next thing, everyone was watching Billy bounce down the steps of the bleachers. He landed on his back and sat up, putting his hands to his bleeding nose.

"Keep your hands to yourself, Billy," I stated in a loud voice. I looked at Lea one more time and stomped away.

So began the worst summer of my life. My folks, after twenty years of waiting, were on a two-month cruise, so I couldn't go home. Every place I went I ran into Lea and Billy. If I went to Greer's Ferry Lake fishing, I saw them and a group on a picnic or party barge or something. If I took a hike or drive along the Little Red River, I saw Lea and Billy swimming. In town, I'd see them at the Jolly Cone or Kelly's Drug store at the soda fountain. I couldn't seem to keep away from them unless I stayed at the house.

Finally, mercifully, my parents came home and I could get away. I went home, back to school, and then on to college and Lea's memory was pushed into the past. I later heard that Lea and Billy had gotten married and moved to Kansas City.

"Heath... Heath," Belle said. "Where you at boy?"

"Sorry, just living in the past for a few minutes Belle. So any others of the old gang still around?"

"Well... Billy's back too. From what I hear, he tried to convince Lea not to let the divorce go through." Belle gave me an evil little grin. "Didn't work though, she had the Sheriff run him off. He's still in town, but he stays away from Lea. Guess one night in the hoosegow was enough for him."

Belle watched me closely as she talked about Billy. "You plan on looking him up? Or her?"

"What for? I didn't like him before and I see no reason to change my mind now." I looked at Belle's grin and knew what she was thinking. "And Lea made her choice years ago, so no, I won't be looking for her either." She wondered if I was going to get back at Billy for taking Lea; to get revenge.

"Revenge for revenge's sake is overrated," I said. "In Iraq, trying to get revenge when one of my men was killed is what put me in contact with the IED. I think it was Jean-Paul Sartre who said, "Getting revenge can sometimes be like cracking open an egg shell and having nothing come out." I saw the surprised look on Belle's face. "There's not a lot to do in Bumfuck, Iraq so I read everything I could get my hands on; even a book by a French philosopher," I told her with a small grin.

"You never came back after Lea and Billy started going together. I thought you'd come back and whip his ass," Belle said sounding disappointed.

"If you remember, I did that the day I found out about them." I shook my head. "No, I won't be looking up Billy. Lea made her choice so he wouldn't have been there without her say so. Besides, the next year I graduated from high school. I worked that summer and every summer, school breaks and holidays too, so I could go to college. Didn't have time to worry about old girl friends."

I grinned and looked Belle in the eyes. "This is the type of stuff a guy would normally tell his bartender," I joked.

"Hell, boy, I tended bar for 20 years before I opened this place." I had finished my BBQ and the pie. "Good to see a man eat like a man," Belle said as she stood up. "Too many people worried about carbs and all that other bullshit. Come back and see me fore you leave town, ya hear? Food's on the house." She walked back into the kitchen and started yelling at Jasper about something.

Getting a little late in the day to hit the road, I thought after finishing my meal and as I started my bike. Think I'll gas up and find a motel for the night; hit the road again in the morning. I drove through downtown, but passed up several big chain motels that had been built to take advantage of the tourist trade. I chose a place called Hotel Heber Springs Lakeside; A fancy name for a typical Midwest motel. The room was more than I needed but it did have a small refrigerator for beer and such, a coffee maker and it was clean. If I decided to stay for a few days it would do.

I slept late the next morning, 9 AM was late for me, anyway. Packed up my "go" bag and got on the bike looking for breakfast. As I drove passed Belle's place I noticed a sign I had missed the day before. It was a large painted sign that said: Belle's Best food in the county. Breakfast, Dinner and Supper. The word dinner had been crossed out and the word Lunch had replaced it. Belle had never served breakfast before, so I stopped. If her other meals were as good as her BBQ, it was the place to eat.

This time Belle's had several people in it. All of the booths and most of the tables had customers eating breakfast. Must be pretty good, I thought as I took the end seat at the counter and picked up a menu. A listing of yogurt, raw oatmeal, fruit plates and non-gluten breads and rolls were there. This was all health nut type of food. It wasn't what I expected from Belle's.

Belle entered through the swinging doors and came to my spot at the counter. She grabbed the menu and placed it back into a holder. "This crap isn't for you, Heath. It's for all the artsy fartsy city folk. She pointed to a large chalk board on the rear wall. "That's for real folks who want a real breakfast. Hell, I'll give you the Big Country Breakfast." Belle went to entry to the kitchen and yelled "Jasper, a Big Country Breakfast; it's for Heath."

"So, when did you become a full-fledged restaurant?" I asked.

"It's been about two years now," she replied. "There were some things needing done at the house and to this place and money was a little tight. Jasper saw all the business at the chain motels and their eateries and suggested we could get in on some of that." Belle smiled and then giggled. "He damn sure was right; the place is seldom empty and sometimes there is a long wait to get a table. Had to repaint my sign though, too many city folk don't understand down here, dinner means lunch. I'll send my girl over with your coffee."

I had my back to the counter watching the other customers. Several were eating granola, yogurt and other things off the printer menu, but there were more obviously eating a real breakfast from the chalk board. "I assumed you wanted black coffee," I heard and turned back to the counter. Alyssa Jennings was filling a large mug with no handle with coffee.

"This is a nice surprise," I greeted her. "Didn't know you worked for Belle."

"I fill in sometimes when there is a need, especially on the weekends in the summer. Rest of the time I work with my dad at his boat yard."

Belle returned from the kitchen balancing two very large platters on her arm as waitresses have done forever. One platter held scrambled eggs, two large sausage patties, four strips of bacon and a large slice of country ham. The other one had two large biscuits covered in gravy. She sat the food down and said, "That ought to hold you until supper."

One of the swinging doors to the kitchen opened but I didn't see anyone using it, until the biggest cat I'd ever seen hopped up on the back counter and strutted down to our end of the diner. "What the hell is that?" I asked in disbelief. That was obviously a cat. I'd never seen one so large. It had to be 2 feet long, about 18 inches tall and looked to weight over 20 pounds.

Belle smiled, reached over and stroked the cat's ears. "This is Sheba. When she showed up I took her to the vet and found out she is a Savannah; an offshoot of a wild African cat called a Serval."

"Never thought you'd own a cat; thought you would be a dog person."

"I do like dogs, got two hounds at home. You're right, you own dogs but a cat like Sheba is her own person. Cats aren't owed; cats have staff. So we're her staff."

Sheba jumped from the back counter to a place close to my food, sat down and looked at me. "She's waiting for you to feed her," Belle told me with a grin.

I cut off a piece of sausage and offered it to the cat. She sniffed at the offering, took it from my fingers and ate it. Then Sheba licked my fingers and rubbed her face against my hand. She jumped back to the back counter, down to the floor and pushed through the door into the kitchen.

"You've been accepted," Belle laughed.

"Now that my acceptance is settled, I'll finish my breakfast and head out." Belle went back to the kitchen and Alyssa checked up the customers; refilling coffee cups and water glasses.

Ten minutes later, Belle was back in front of me; Sheba came with her and jumped on the counter close to me. "Where you headed, Heath, and why?" she asked.

"Don't really know," I replied. "Like I said yesterday, I got no particular place to be and a lot of time to get there." I thought for a little and continued, "Might run up to St. Louis. See the Gateway Arch again, take the Anheuser-Bush tour again; maybe visit a restaurant."

"The Arch is still big and silver, and the Bush tour is the same as the last time you took it." She stared at me for several seconds and added, "Why don't you stay around here?"

I cocked my head a little, shared another piece of sausage with Sheba and said, "Why do you care so much? I appreciate the concern, but we've never been really close, so why the concern."

Belle turned and grabbed the coffee pot off the warmer and refilled my cup: she also poured a cup for herself. "I was very close to your grandparents near the end; especially your grandma. She worried about you, wanted you to settle somewhere. That's why she left you their house when they passed. She hoped you'd move to Heber and stay."

"I couldn't, I just couldn't. My brain and thoughts were all messed up; still are somewhat. I'll travel until I don't have to anymore."

Belle wasn't going to give up. "You know, I was the one bought your grandparents place when it put it on the market. Thought I'd fix it up and use it like a vacation rental type place; never got around to it. Stay around for a few days; stay at the old house and I'll feed you. Maybe your brain can get un-messed up."

For the first time in years, I began to think about stopping the one-man tour of the United States. Heber would be a good place to stop. "Okay, Belle, I'll stay for a couple of days. Not promising anything, but I'll stay for a while."

Belle took a key from the pocket of her apron and handed it to me. "You know where the old place is, it's clean has utilities and such." She smiled. "Even got clean bedding and a few things to make it livable."

"Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?"

"Not really, but if you plan ahead things generally come out right. If you decide to stay, I'll buy what's needed and you can fix up the house. That'll be your rent. Doubt you'll want lunch after that breakfast, so see you at supper if you've a mind to." Belle returned to the kitchen. I finished my coffee, stood and let my belt out a notch after that breakfast and turned to leave.

"Where you headed?" Alyssa asked.

"Gas station, then to the house to check it out," I answered. "After that no plans, run around town maybe take a ride over to the lake."

"Could you give me a ride to my dad's boatyard? My car was acting up so Dad had to drop me off. It's about twenty miles over on the lake, so sort of like a two bird's thing."

"Sounds like a plan; meet you out front."

Alyssa joined me and I noticed what she was wearing for the first time. She wore a tee shirt with name of the boat yard and a short skirt. I hadn't noticed as she was behind the counter. "You're gonna be exposed a bit straddling my bike," I said pointing to the shirt.

She grinned. "Not really a problem, I have my bikini on, so they won't see anything more than when I'm swimming. Besides, every guy needs a thrill once in a while." She waited as I got on the bike and climbed up behind me.

"You ever ride as a passenger before." I asked.

Alyssa nodded and added, "I've got a dirt bike and a 500CC Honda street bike, so I know the rules. Let's hit it."

We took off toward the last service station before leaving town. I pulled up to a pump and shut the bike down. Alyssa got off and headed into the store connected to the station. "Gonna get some snacks for later," she said.

I filled the tank with high grade gasoline, being careful to not drip gas on my paint job. Alyssa was talking to another person as she returned. It was Lea, my long-ago girlfriend.

"Look who I ran into," Alyssa said. Lea didn't look like she wanted to be there.

"Hello, Heath." Lea greeted me.

"Lea," I replied in what was probably a less than friendly greeting.

"That's enough," Alyssa ordered. "You guys were friends for a long time and the BS over what happened is history. No reason y'all can't be friends again. Not saying boyfriend/girlfriend type stuff, but just friends." Turning directly to me she added, "You man enough to let go of what a couple of teenagers did years ago?"

I looked at Alyssa and then Lea and had to grin at myself. She was right. At the time Lea and splitting hurt but we'd both gone our own way and life went on. "Hi, Lea,' I said with a smile this time. "Nice to see you."

"Heath, I want to apol..." Lea started.

"It's history, in the past," I interrupted her. "Let's leave it there." She nodded and gave me a small smile.

"Time to head out, Alyssa," I said as I sat on my bike. She climbed up behind me and we headed to her dad's and the lake. It was a nice ride through very nice scenery. Could be in a worse place, I thought as we pulled up to the office of the boat yard.

Alyssa got off the bike as her dad came out of the office. "Honey, I wish you'd wear jeans or something when you ride a bike. No need to show off everything to the whole world." She stuck out her tongue at him. "You'd be Heath Daniels," he said. "Knew your grandparents pretty well. Good folks, sorry they're gone."

"Thank you, Mr. Jennings.

"You plan on staying around for a spell?" He asked.

"Haven't made up my mind yet. I'll be here for a few days anyway."

"I remember you running the lake when you was younger, seemed you knew your way around a boat." I nodded and smiled remembering all the days, and nights, on the lake. "If you decide to stay, I can offer you work during the summer and part time in the off season. Tom Benson over to the Eden Isle Marina is looking for help, as well. We can keep you busy and enough money to live on, if you've a mind."

"Thanks Mr. Jennings, I'll keep it in mind." I turned to Alyssa and grinned, "Guess I'll see in the next couple of days."

"I'm usually at Belle's three days a week so I'll see you there. If not, you know where I am so don't be a stranger."

As I rode off, I thought, that's a plain enough invitation. The idea of seeing more of Alyssa appealed to me. I made a quick ride back to my grandparents, er Belle's, house and stopped in front of the one car garage. Looks about the same, I thought.

The Sheriff's car pulled into the driveway behind me. It was the same officer that I'd seen at the Springs my first day in town. He got out of his car and walked toward me. "Howdy, I'm Sheriff Bobby Lee Womack."

Bob Womack was not your stereotypical potbellied backwoods sheriff. He was about 6 feet 4, had a muscular body, about 40 and looked like he could be as hard as nails if need be. "You're that fellow I saw at the Springs a couple days ago."

I nodded. "Thanks for letting me park under the pavilion during the storm. Would have been right nasty without the cover."

"Don't mind my asking, but who are you young man?"

"Names Heath Daniels sir. I may be staying around for a spell. At least until I get Belle's house fixed up."

"House used to belong to your kin as I remember," he said and nodded. "Nice to meet you, Heath. You don't look like the type in spite of long hair, the motorcycle and that vest, but y'all stay out of trouble," he said with a smile.

"Yes sir, Sheriff Womack."

"Bobby Lee is good enough. See you around."

I sat on the steps of the front pouch. My mind didn't seem as unsettled as it had been, I thought. Nice country, nice town; I've got a nice place to stay and even have two job offers. Belle's like a favorite aunt and cares about me. I grinned and continued my thought, wouldn't be a bad thing to get to know Alyssa better; the invitation is there.

Time to stop wandering, I guess. Besides Sheba may need another staff to order around.

The Beginning.