I headed for the shade of the covered building before my white skin turned a bright pink and then pushed my sun glasses up on top of my head so I could see better. It took a few minutes but a girl wearing a cotton candy pink tank top that said DEEP SOUTH FARMER’S MARKET walked in front of me carrying a basket of apples.
“Excuse me,” I said before she could escape into the crowd.
She glanced over her shoulder and smiled brightly. “How can I help ya?” she asked with an accent so thick it had to be fake. Either that or this girl was from Mississippi.
“’I’m looking for Lloyd March,” I told her.
“Alrighty then, jus’ let me put this here basket uh apples down and I’ll show you to ‘em,” she replied.
Yeah, she had to be from Mississippi. I returned her smile, grateful this wasn’t going to be difficult. “Thank you.”
“Yer welcome!” she exclaimed loudly.
She put the apples down beside the others, told a lady where she could find the restroom, picked up a dirty napkin, and helped a kid find the ripest plum before she made her way back to me. I was so impressed with her work ethic I didn’t mind the wait. When she made it to me she nodded her head to the left. “Sorry ‘bout that. Right this way,” she told me then began to walk or possibly bounce a little as she led me past the rest of the fruit and toward a closed-off area. The bright blue door read “Employees Only” painted in a sunny yellow.
She pushed the swinging door open and I followed her inside the cool interior of a storage area. A couple of guys unloading some boxes glanced at us with curiosity.
“Y’all see Lloyd?” the girl asked them.
The taller boy, who was covered in freckles, wiped at his brow and then pointed behind him. “He’s with Rio.”
The girl sighed heavily. “Good Lord on high, what did he do this time?” she asked, sounding exasperated.
The guy shrugged and she glanced over her shoulder at me. “Might be a situation,” she said then continued on her way.
I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to follow her or not but I did. Mostly because I needed to find Lloyd and she was taking me to him. There was this small part of me who remembered hearing the name Rio before and I was curious. This was a small town. I doubted there were that many Rios walking around.
“If you don’t want to find yer ass right here fer the rest of yer life then keep on doin’ just what yer doin’,” a deep voice boomed as we turned the corner. The girl in front of me paused and sighed again. When she looked back at me, I wondered if this was where she told me now wasn’t a good time.
“Sorry ‘bout this,” she said then turned back around. “Daddy, someone is lookin’ fer ya. I brought her back here. Y’all might need to finish this later.”
Daddy? Lloyd March was her dad? She couldn’t be out of high school yet. How old was her dad? Before the questions could keep piling up in my nosey head, she turned back to me and waved for me to come forward.
I rounded the corner of the wooden crates of corn to find a man, who was, indeed, old enough to have fought in Vietnam with my grandad, standing there his gaze locked on me immediately. He appeared bothered by the interruption.
“I’m sorry. Did we have an appointment?” he asked.
I swallowed, once again nervous and hating being put on the spot. Especially in the middle of what appeared to be a family situation. If this was the Rio who often got arrested, I could understand Mr. March’s frustration.
“Uh, no, sir, I’m Honey Warren’s granddaughter,” I began and didn’t wait for a response before continuing, “She left me a list of things she wanted me to handle for her. One of those things is to take my grandad’s tools to a Mr. Lloyd March at the Deep South Farmer’s Market. I, uh, should have called first. I’m sorry.”
Lloyd March shook his head. “No, I’m glad you’re here. Thank you for taking time to come. I am sorry you had to walk in on this.” He shot a warning glare in Rio’s direction.
I too shifted my gaze to Rio for a brief moment. He wasn’t as tall as his friends, but he was muscular, tanned and his dark hair was almost shaved it was cut so short. He met my gaze and smirked. I quickly looked back toward Lloyd.
“I have the tools in my car. They’re just heavy and I wanted to find you before I got them out,” I told him.
He smiled then but it was a sad smile. His eyes seemed to tell a story with that smile and I wondered how he had known my grandad. I doubted very much Lloyd March was going to keep me here telling me stories like the people at the church had. He may be in his seventies, but he was a busy man and still raising kids. His wife must be young.
“Honey wanted you to bring these here to me?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” I replied.
He shook his head and he stared at me a moment. His thoughts were either lost on memories of my grandparents or he was trying to decide if I was making a mistake.
“Alright then, Honey,” he muttered under his breath as if he were talking to my Gran. Then he looked back at Rio. “Go help Henley with the tools,” he said.
I hadn’t told him my name yet he knew. Did this whole town know everything about my gran? It was odd being known by so many and not knowing anything about them. Lloyd March was a strange one too. What had he meant by “Alright then, Honey?”
“Are we done?” Rio shot back at Lloyd.
Lloyd shook his head and sighed. “For now.” He looked back to me then. “It was nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you over the years. Your grandparents were awfully proud.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn’t. Instead, he walked off leaving me there with… Rio. I realized then that his daughter had already left and I hadn’t realized she’d walked away.
“How heavy are we talking? Do I need to get a trolley or some shit?” Rio asked me.
“I carried each tool box to the car by myself. I think you can manage,” I replied.
“Then lead the way.”
I did as instructed, and Rio fell into step beside me. We walked back out into the open air and I slid my sunglasses back down over my eyes when we left the shade of the building. I was just about convinced this would be a silent endeavor when he cleared his throat.
“Pop called you Henley. That your name?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Heard about you,” he said then.
“From who?” I asked, already sure I knew this answer.
“Some friends. They mentioned you the other night.” He was grinning as if he knew I wanted more details and he wasn’t going to give them to me.