Evie

Lloyd and Evie stopped at the local farm store or at least this part of North Florida's version of one. They were somewhere between Capps and Newport, Florida. The store was a freestanding structure with horizontal wooden planks that served as long shingles. The planks were whitewashed and faded, and appeared to have last been painted a long time ago.
Lloyd walked past the faded red Texaco gas pumps and walked to the green chipped painted door. He flung the heavy door open; it opened only halfway, stopped abruptly and hit him in the shoulder as he walked in. As he rebalanced himself, the acrid smell of fertilizer and horse feed halted his breath, laying a chalky dank taste on his tongue. His nose stung as he tried to acclimate himself. He looked down and observed the foot-worn dip at the threshold of the old oaken door. Probably worn from a hundred years of heavy, muddy farmers’ boots trudging through.
Lloyd was a stout man, below average in height. He wasn’t fat but he was somewhat self-conscious of the silver-dollar-sized bald spot in the back of his head. His old college buddies started calling him “Friar Tuck” about the time the swift current of time ushered him into his thirties. It bothered him to hear their badinage even though they were his friends and they meant to stir no ill feelings. Lloyd after all was an accomplished man. After receiving his PHD at Arizona State University, he was offered a sizable salary to be a distinguished professor at Florida State University. His acute attention to detail in his profession had garnered him favorable acclaim throughout the international community. Lloyd had always been a man of commendable control of his wherever he might find himself whether it had been in the middle of the Amazon doing field work or at the white house meeting esteemed dignitaries. He was the master of whatever situation was dealt to him, until now.
“Hep ya?” A course voice came from a gruff looking heavyset man with a powder white beard.
“Uh…yeah.” Lloyd hesitated as he held the door for his companion, catching her brilliant smile as he turned to usher her in. She dipped her head in a slant to the left as a graceful gesture of thanks. Her captivating sky-blue eyes met his for an instant, smiling at him through her golden bangs.
The older man’s eyes lit up to see the young lady enter-she possessing the beauty and verve that he rarely saw stroll in off the dusty back roads of the Florida Panhandle.
“Yes maim!” He immediately lost his curt tone and demeanor.
“Oh how nice” crowed Evie, “Such a homey place you have here.”
Lloyd watched Evie conduct herself in a coquettish fashion as she sauntered about with exaggerated strides. His cheeks grew sanguine; his ears grew hot with jealousy.
“Such a wonderful beard,” she continued. The burly storekeeper was transformed into a slab of butter on a warm skillet. A flirtatious exchange began to take form as the shopkeeper hopped and jutted about to appease Evie’s needs beginning with a bottle of Evian and crackers.
“Peanut butter crackers, hon. Not too much salt.” When he didn’t have any natural, un-dyed pistachios, he felt genuine sorrow. A wink and a smile instantly reprieved him; the red ones would do in a pinch.
This went on for 5 minutes but to Lloyd it seemed like an eternity. He had seen the effect Evie had on men before. Lloyd might have seen the humor of this scene with the burly old man prancing about like a heavy schoolchild. But the truth was, Lloyd was a confused man. Very confused. He couldn’t even discern whether or not Evie was being genuine. All he could do was stand there and smile nervously as his stomach churned with tumult. Lloyd was in love with Evie, much more than he should be, he reluctantly admittedly to himself.
As Evie's flirtatious exhibition with the shopkeeper continued, Lloyd's attention was drawn to a group of men in camouflage attire sitting at the long counter where food and drinks were served. “Hunters,” he thought to himself. There was one in particular that made Lloyd uneasy. He had smoky blue squinting eyes, sunburned face and a dark mustache that covered his mouth. He sat bent over his cup of coffee. His eyes followed Evie. Lloyd felt a nervous chill run down his spine.
Evie inquired about the whereabouts of a farm on Burnt Plank Road. It had recently been tilled, and tilled fields were great places to find arrowheads and old Indian artifacts-the hobby of passion that both Evie and Lloyd shared.
The eyebrows of the hunter perked up, his leathery face revealing a roadmap of lines.
“ I know just exactly where it is,” he proclaimed with a steady baritone voice. "It's close by. I can lead you to it, but we're leaving right now."
To Lloyd, the low pitch of his voice didn’t seem to match his gaunt wiry features. It seemed to be the voice of a man with much larger features. He imagined the voice belonging to an overweight balding man of some degree of accomplished social stature: a choral member or a souse chef-not the gruff backwoodsman at the counter.
“You do? How wonderful!” She froze for a moment as though to be in a trance, all the time smiling as beautifully as she could. “You sweet man! Are you a hunter? I bet you know this area well.”
The vibration of his full masculine voice had aroused Evie’s femininity. She felt the resonance of his words penetrate the depths of her womanhood, tickling a response out of her. When Evie’s eyes fell on the man, she radiated. Her smile was luminous and her eyes embraced him.
The mans eyes smiled. “Yes ma’am. W-"
“I'm sure we can find it, Evie.” Lloyd forced out in a hurried tone, unable to disguise the desperation in his voice. The hunter cast a look of pity upon Lloyd while the latter ushered Evie out in harried fashion.
“P-Please Lloyd!" She dug in her heels into the gravel. "Stop cowboying me!”
She looked back to the hunter smiled and winked. “Let’s go!”
The hunter gave a nod to his comrades and the men were in their truck and were speeding off before Lloyd started the engine.
“C’mon! We’ll lose them!”
Lloyd fell behind them and followed. He was very relieved to get back to his truck.
The uncertainty of Evie’s affection for him and the way she had just conducted herself with these men made his head swim and his stomach pitch. She was always like this. Always too friendly.
“Christ, Evie! Watch yourself with these guys. Remember where we are---Hunters! Neanderthals!" He tried to exhort in an asserted tone but was only betrayed by the whiney pitch.
“Relax Lloyd." She pinched his thigh. “I was just being neighborly. Besides, I got us an escort." She stared at him with a cutesy pout face and didn’t change her look until she extracted a slight grin from him in spite of himself.
It took all that Lloyd had to conceal his painful pangs of dejection. “She could care less about me. Great Job Lloyd! Sure know how to pick ‘em,” a voice inside his head lamented.

The hunter’s truck had a thick iron crate in the bed where he kenneled his dogs. The hunter pulled out on the two-lane highway and the three others pulled out behind him. They were all heavy pick-ups, black and jacked up with thickly treaded tires. The condition of the license plates, muddied and impossible to read, did not contribute to put Lloyd’s mind at ease at all. The four vehicles filed down the two-lane highway--three black pick-up trucks and Lloyds white Jeep Cherokee. The trucks turned onto the red clay road lined with tall dry grass and fields on either side. The grade of the surface of the road had an ostensive crown to expedite rainwater run-off. On either side of the narrow red clay road was a three foot deep gully. There were sections of the road that had seven foot clay walls where the road had been cut into a hill in order to keep the road level.
The sun was completely walled-out by a blanket of swelling clouds. They had buttressed themselves together as though to prepare for a formidable offensive.
“Oh look Lloyd! It’s going to rain. I told you!” Exclaimed Evie in an indignant tone. Lloyd said nothing as his ears burned with humility. He looked up at the grainy gray cloud mass above him which extended from horizon to horizon. He said nothing. He now wished he never suggested their going out as spontaneously as they did. He wished badly that his desire to be alone with Evie didn’t supersede his ability to be sensible. “Well, maybe I’ll get a few minutes in anyway.” he said to himself of the prospect of arrowhead hunting in the field before the heavens opened up. As it stood, he had no option but to follow these strangers. So he gathered a modicum of resolve from within himself to make the best of the situation.
In the pith of his heart lied an uncertainty about Evie. He felt himself a captain of a ship in a sea on loneliness. And his ship was sinking. He felt the sea water rush into his waist, chest, then neck until he was helplessly sitting at the bottom staring hopelessly upwards towards the oppressive cloud blanketed sky. There he waited to die by drowning at the bottom of the sea of loneliness.
Brake lights ahead and the wing motion wave of the arm by the driver ahead signaled that they had reached the fields. Lloyd waved acknowledgement and with that the trucks continued in earnest towards their destination. This was the spot that Evie and Lloyd had spent several hours of research to find. If they had estimated correctly, this was the field that the Redstick and Whitestick Creek Indians fought a fierce battle for the control of the northwestern peninsula of Florida over one hundred and fifty years ago. The Redstick Creeks up from what is now the Georgia Tennessee border were enticed by General Andrew Jackson to wreak havoc among the local inhabitant tribes of this area. The Whitestick Creeks who had been one Creek nation with the Redstick Creeks many years prior joined a community of native people of various tribe origins. It was their intention to separate themselves from the warring lifestyle of which became the creed of the Whitesticks. Their migration found them in the company of agrarian people who lived peacefully amongst themselves. It was through the auspices of General Jackson that found those two tribes in a tempestuous confrontation at this very site over one hundred and fifty years ago.
“We’re here!” cried Evie like a child on recess “this could be the mother load of points!”
“And see, those guys were nice!” she chided. She was out of the vehicle in a shot and converged upon the field.
It was about 2 PM or so when they had arrived. The sky was still in an oppressive state. Lloyd exited his car and walked to the rear where he propped his foot upon the bumper to tighten his bootlaces. He initiated the pursuit of “points”.
Just two hours earlier Lloyd and Evie were at the Mill Restaurant when they came up with the idea of embarking upon an “off-duty hunt” for points. With the clinking of mugs filled with home-brewed beer, they made a toast to “luck” and in an air of spontaneity and conviviality they departed. Points are arrowheads chipped from flint stone. The bigger the points, the bigger the prey. Today they would be seeking points larger than usual: ones used in battle. Lloyd loved walking through these fields as well as the thickly wooded areas emulating the course a Creek warrior or hunter had done hundreds of year’s prior. Evie loved this hobby as much as Lloyd did. The two proceeded to police the area for artifacts with dogged attention. He would go in one direction and she the other rarely looking up. They were both sharing a common passion if only for a moment. Lloyd’s heart sang.
Lloyd Ketchem was a Professor of Archeology at Florida State University and Evie was his graduate assistant. She was soon to complete her dissertation for her master’s degree and was hinting on leaving when she was through. She was Lloyd’s best student and there was no telling where she would take a job. She had several offers. She had announced one day that she would probably be taking a position at a university out West. Lloyd’s heart sank at the knowledge of that prospect. But what could he do? She wasn’t exactly his girlfriend. Although they spent a few lustful evenings together, she had made it clear to him of her resolve to remain detached at this point in her life. Up to this point, Lloyd did his best to keep his passion for Evie concealed, like a card player keeping them close to his chest. But recently, Evie had sensed his ever-increasing penchant to be in her company. It had created tenuous moments between them.
For the moment, Lloyd was in his element. He couldn’t wait to kick his new LL Bean Boots into the freshly tilled soil. The lack of sunshine might make it difficult to detect the glint of the stones; but he would enjoy himself anyway. Lloyd could barely contain his excitement. It was an exhilarating moment for him. The general area was similar to the accounts he was able to uncover through hours of copious research. There were few accounts of the battle on record but he replayed what he knew so as to position himself in an area that might offer the greatest chance of finding artifacts. He imagined the furious clash between the Indians struggling to defend their women and children, probably not more than a few hundred yards from them. Lloyd felt his back pocket of his jeans to make sure he had the note from the owner of the land so he and Evie wouldn’t become victims of a buckshot blast for trespassing. “What was that guys name? Warren? Warrick? Walker? Well, whatever the landowners name was the important thing was that he still had the note giving him permission to root around for artifacts.
As was a ritual of his, he would squat down, close his eyes and draw a deep breath through his nostrils as though he was trying to capture the spirit of things long past. Then he’d get up and continue his search. He had an uncanny degree of luck finding the most remarkable pieces of artifacts this way.

Lloyd stole a glance at Evie in the distance. She was in a world of her own one hundred yards away and content. She waved back to indicate she was fine in a frank yet graceful manner. He was captivated with her lovely presence. Her golden hair, child-like beauty and full figure unmistakably that of a woman. His head swam in a pool of desire for her. “Easy boy” he said to himself trying to make light of what he felt about the woman in the foreground. He heard a popping sound in the distance; then another, and another. It was the guns of the hunters in the distance. The vision of the hunters invaded his thoughts of Evie. His adorable Evie. Two quick pops and then another derailed his thoughts to the crude petulant world of the Neanderthal hunter; their canines sniffing and rooting about in the brush struggling to obey the despotic commands of their masters.
A raindrop spotted Lloyds sweat shirt, then another. Lloyd looked up at Evie again and observed recognizable posture indicating that she would soon be ready to depart. He would be sad to leave this place. He wished he had more time to spend with Evie out here.
Couldn’t he have her? Couldn’t he make her stay? Could he win her heart? Could he keep her? Sometimes she’d look at him a certain way and flash that loving smile. He’d try not to read too much into it- but. He was helplessly in love with a woman for less reason than he had been in the past with other women. Yet this was a powerful one.
Surely she must know. Surely she must realize he was the man for her. Her soul mate. Could he win her? Could he keep her?
The rain was increasing. Evie was within hearing distance. She threw her arms in the air demonstratively gesturing surrender.
“Okay! I’m done.” She smiled the way he’d seen her so many times before; a full smile from this childlike woman. The next smile always prettier than the last.
Just then, the heavens opened up at such a pace, that it was hard to believe there were peaceful thoughts just moments ago. The two were completely drenched after their one hundred-yard dash to the car. They slid together into the rear of the jeep. Lloyd caught her and kissed a raindrop off her cheek. Her skin tasted sweet. He imagined the cheek of an angel would taste like that if indeed they were made up of flesh and bones. She smiled playfully and gazed into his eyes for just a moment. Lloyd felt nothing but desire; no rain, no chill, just the warmth of her smile. With a playful giggle, she shoved herself away and darted to her side of the car.
“Come on!” she yelled over the roar of the downpour.
“She’s mine, I can keep her!” he thought to himself.
His feet felt wet for the first time. He realized that he was standing in a three-foot gully in six inches of rainwater and the level was increasing rapidly. Evie slammed the door and Lloyd thought he felt the truck slide towards him from the jolt. He grabbed the handle of his door and felt the jeep sliding towards him some more. He quickly jerked the door open to jump in quickly but slipped on the red clay mud. He regained his footing but he only made it halfway through the door. The left side of the car was leaning against the seven-foot clay wall and the weight of the truck had him pinned in the door jam. The door was like the jaws of a huge beast that had clamped its prey. He felt the crushing weight of the truck snap three ribs one by one. Snap. Snap. Snap.
“Get in! Can you get in?” Evie’s voice was frantic.
Lloyd couldn’t breathe, let alone speak. The pain was unbearable. His face went white. His vision narrowed. He would lose consciousness soon, mercifully.
Evie threw the other door open. ”I’m going to get help!” she was slipping and falling as she tried to run for help.
“N-n-no.” Lloyd said weakly no louder than a whisper then fainted.
The run to the hunter’s camp was frantic. Half-blinded by the vicious torrent and winded from running and sobbing, a panic-stricken Evie fell in the arms of the hunter. His squinting eyes flooded with astonishment as he strained to understand why this hysterical woman was clutching his shoulder imploring him to help her.
The second he was able to discern her frantic gesticulations he swiftly ushered her into his cab and gave a whirling gesture with his arms for his friends to follow. Seconds later, the trucks were fishtailing and slinging mud in ever direction as they pursued the trail of the hunter who was the first to speed off towards the distressed vehicle. As they sped towards Lloyds truck, Evie looked down to the floor to clear the path of the heater and noticed a fireman’s hat with the words “Captain” printed above the words “Perry Fire Department” on the face of it. They were able to get to the jeep in moments. They came upon Lloyd’s truck almost sooner than fathomable considering the weather conditions they were driving in. The hunter got halfway past the jeep and thrust his heavy boots into the brakes and jerked his wheel to the left with authority. The truck came to a sliding halt with the front bumper facing the passenger side of Lloyd’s vehicle so his hydraulic wench on the front bumper was facing the vehicle. Like a shot he was out and hooking his hydraulic winch to the chassis of the Jeep. As the winch pulled the jeep from the clay wall and two men held Lloyd in place to minimize movement. They gently wrapped him into a blanket and eased him into the back seat of the hunter’s king cab. The hunter was back in and without any wasted motion; he threw his truck into gear and was racing down the clay road towards the paved road towards the hospital in Perry.
“We’ll be there in 45 minutes,” he said in a reassuring tone.
“ Is he still alive?” she asked between sobs.
“Oh yea. Just some broken ribs. He’ll be sore for a while.” He held her hand for reassurance. His hand felt callused and strong. Lloyd awakened with a start from a horrible dream about drowning. He glanced up in astonishment to find himself alive. He realized he was in the cab of the hunter’s truck with a blanket wrapped around him. He knew not to move too sudden his ribs ached with each breath. He felt a painful click in his ribcage with each breath. He looked to see who was driving. He saw Evie holding the hand of the man who was driving. He instinctively knew who the man was. She glanced up at man’s face and glowed. She smiled at him. She felt calm and warm.
Lloyd felt a flood of chilling despair through his body. He knew he could never keep her.