Hime

«I’m here against my will; in fact, my opinion wasn’t even remotely taken into consideration. Therefore, this is a clear case of kidnapping.» Azul replied, straightening his hair and glasses, which had slipped from their rightful place.

«Your parents made this decision for your own good. Staying cooped up in your room all summer, hunched over your books from dawn to dusk, is an attack on your health, my little finn,» the woman stated, her voice sweet and cheerful but her tone firm.

«A top grade in economics is achieved through hard study and dedication. Plus, I had an exam to prepare for.»

«An exam you don’t have to take until November.»

«How do you know?»

«Your mother told me, of course.»

Azul barely held back an annoyed snort at Aunt Ulia’s sly smile. Obviously, the two sisters were in cahoots against him and his studies—his mother had even confiscated all the textbooks he’d packed.

«This is an injustice,» the young man muttered irritably.

«My little fishy, you must have fun while you’re still young!» Aunt Ulia ignored him. «Three months in the middle of nature, without university or technology, and you’ll be a new young man. You’ll see, it’ll be a lot of fun with your auntie!»

«Yay. I can’t wait…» muttered Azul sarcastically.

A ranch.

Aunt Ulia had picked him up from his home—with his mother’s help—in her flaming red vintage convertible, dragging him to a dusty ranch in the middle of nowhere. It sure was looking like a fun summer.

During the car ride, Aunt Ulia tried several times to strike up a conversation with her stubborn nephew, but failed; Azul responded in monosyllables or not at all, retreating into a protesting silence like a child. The woman, after several failed attempts, preferred to fill the silence with the music from her car radio—which was also strictly vintage.

The cold concrete highway and soaring modern buildings had now given way to gravel paths eroded by time and nature, and verdant, unspoiled landscapes. Wooden fences, far different from the perfectly symmetrical white-painted ones typical of a residential neighborhood, and fields full of golden ears of wheat. Rolling hills that felt they blended into the sky the more one gazed at them.

They had been traveling for a few hours now, the road seemed endless, and the heat was beginning to melt his skin into the car seats, but Azul—more out of stubbornness, but above all, to avoid giving Aunt Ulia any satisfaction—didn’t say a word, and absolutely didn’t ask how much longer they still had to reach their destination.

Rather, he preferred to suffer the heat in silence and become part of the upholstery of that car.

Five hours.

Five interminable, suffocating hours later, they had overcome the blanket of dust and finally reached the “Golden Oak Ranch”.

The colonial-style house, with warm tones and a wooden porch, stables painted red and white, the paint flaking that much it was old, haystacks and bales scattered here and there, and pens of grazing animals that watched the newcomers almost curiously from afar. In short, it looked like the classic ranch from those sappy, romantic movies for single women.

Azul wouldn’t have been surprised if a cowboy suddenly appeared—with a wide-brimmed hat, hairy chest, rough, veiny hands, and a perfectly trimmed, masculine beard—and started flirting with his auntie as if he were less than a valet.

«Do you smell the fresh air of uncontaminated nature, little fishy?» said Aunt Ulia, taking a deep breath and encouraging her nephew to do the same. Azul wondered how his aunt could look as fresh as a daisy despite having driven the entire time, decked out in a headscarf and silk hat like a diva in Monaco, while he seemed to melt into a puddle of his own sweat at any moment.

«The air I smell isn’t a very fresh one, Auntie…» Azul muttered under his breath, referring to the stench of livestock that had hit him like a freight train the moment the convertible’s engine stalled.

Azul hated places like that. Dusty riding stables, muddy farms, sweaty villagers who preferred clinging to silly, sentimental traditions than balancing the books. If anyone in that place forgotten by civilization even knew what balancing the books meant. The young man brushed away some annoying, stinging straw that had mysteriously gotten into his hair and sighed.

Did he really have to spend the whole summer in that place?

He should’ve accepted the invitation from Idia, his fellow campus mate, and gone to that comic book convention on the other side of the country; at least he’d have some fun there.

«Are you sure this is the place, Auntie?» Azul asked between panting breaths.

«Absolutely!» chirped Aunt Ulia.

«Then it must not be much of a good establishment, considering there isn’t even a barn cat to welcome us.»

«Come on, little finn, don’t be sulky,» Aunt Ulia scolded. «We’re probably the first tourists of the day; we arrived well in advance, after all.»

Azul wanted to retort that perhaps they were the only tourists, but the sharp remark didn’t even have time to escape as the distinct clatter of hooves grew ever closer.

The cowboy arrived on a piebald steed. He wore a red checked shirt, sun-bleached jeans, calf-high boots, and a Wild West cowboy hat; toned forearms, rough, veiny hands, bronzed skin, and a dazzling smile—just as Azul had imagined him…only much younger than he’d expected.

At a glance, he and Azul looked about the same age.

Azul watched him dismount with ease, his back muscles flexing under his shirt, his rear clenching, squeezed into that pair of jeans that made his ass look pretty damn good.

When the young man adjusted his hat, their eyes met for a brief moment, and Azul was sure the already scorching temperature in that place had risen at least a few degrees.

«Wow! What gorgeous cheeks!» exhaled Aunt Ulia with the same emphasis in the voice of a high school girl in full hormonal phase.

Azul snapped out of his trance. «Auntie!» he squeaked, his voice two octaves above normal.

«What’s the problem? Beautiful things should be appreciated openly,» Aunt Ulia stated, paying no attention to her nephew’s shocked and embarrassed expression. Throughout all this, the young cowboy was watching them curiously.

Azul wanted to dig a ditch and bury himself in it in shame.

«Howdy!» the cowboy greeted, coming toward them. «I’m Scott Dawson, nice to meetcha,» and held out his hand. Azul shook it, more out of habit than courtesy, and nearly dislocated his arm from the force with which the other guy shook it.

«You’re from the city, right?» he asked. «Are you lost by any chance? It often happens to tourists; the streets here are all alike, it’s easy to take a wrong turn.»

Azul opened his mouth but was promptly silenced by Aunt Ulia.

«Nice to meet you, Scott. I’m Ulia, and this is my nephew Azul. You’re a real sweetheart, but no, we’re not lost at all. We’re here about your agriturism listing.»

Scott’s eyes widened, confused. «Um...you’re catching me a bit off guard here, ma’am.»

«Call me Ulia, honey,» she chirped, lowering her sunglasses to cast a bewitching glance at the young cowboy.

Azul stifled a retching feeling just in time.

Scott cleared his throat, embarrassed, «Look, I don’t have the faintest idea of what you’re talking about. This is a ranch, not a vacay destination.»

«Strange, the girl on the phone said you guys had a chalet available all summer.»

«It must have been a prank by some joker. We’re not—»

The door of the house at the end of the pathway swung open, as if kicked in by a heavily armed Special Forces soldier, and a curious young girl’s head peeked out from the jamb. She had the same messy, curly hair and Scott’s bright eyes, which filled with sparks of joy.

«Ulia, dearest!»

«Maggie, darling!»

The two women ran to embrace as if they were two friends who hadn’t seen each other in a lifetime, amidst excited chirps and giggles.

Azul and Scott exchanged equally confused glances.

«Did you had trouble finding your way to the ranch?» asked the girl, Maggie, her long, messy hair bouncing as vigorously as its owner.

«Not at all! Your directions were crystal clear. In fact, I hope you don’t mind that I brought my nephew with me.» Aunt Ulia replied, holding the girl’s hands tightly in her own.

«Wonderful! There’s room for both of you in the chalet, from the bedrooms to the bathrooms. You’ll see, it’s like being in a palace.»

«Oh, that’s great news! For a moment I thought you’d given away the last rooms you had.»

«Why on earth would I?»

«Maggie!» Scott exclaimed, «Do you want to explain me what—». His sentence was interrupted by Maggie, who with lightning speed turned to the cowboy and began inundating him with a relentless torrent of words, without even giving him time to utter a syllable. «Scottie! You’re already back from your ride in the woods, I see. Just in time, I might add. I assume you’ve already met the two new cabin residents for the next three months, right?»

«Yes, but—»

«Perfect! Then help carry their bags to the chalet. They’ll want to relax after their long journey, don’t you think?»

«Wait—»

«Great spirit! Meanwhile, I’ll go ahead of you so I can show our guests the place they’ll be staying in. And don’t forget to lock the stables securely when you bring Orion back to the paddock. We wouldn’t want him to go out for another nighttime stroll, right?», and after quickly grabbing both Azul and Aunt Ulia by the arm, the lively girl dragged them along one of the many paths that branched off from there.

The cowboy was left on his own at their car with the same incredulous expression as a stockfish.

«As you can see, this is the living room,» Maggie explained with irrepressible cheerfulness. «Bright and welcoming, and in perfect country style.»

«Oh, little guppy, look! There’s even a fireplace, isn’t it gorgeous?» said Aunt Ulia, perfectly in tune with that girl.

Gorgeous, yes... if it were the home of a Texan granny with zero taste in interior design.

The fake bull horns hanging on the wall, with that olive leaf wallpaper, were truly an eyesore. Not to mention the long, worn-looking, brownish sofa that looked like a sumo wrestler sat on it and deformed all the cushions.

«Over here, is the kitchen with a small dining room attached.» Maggie continued with her tour. «Since there’s only two of you, I don’t think you’ll use it much, but I thought it was only right to show it to you anyway.»

Azul wouldn’t have even thought once of eating a meal at that table—besides being terrifyingly bare, you could see at least two inches of dust on the long tabletop; the kitchen was perhaps slightly better, wood with metal, cold with warm, modern with natural. Not as beautiful as the fully equipped kitchen he had at home, but still slightly better than he’d imagined.

Maggie continued to show them the rest of the chalet—from the garden overlooking the kitchen, to the upstairs with bedrooms and two bathrooms for guests, a locked storage room, and an attic. Azul had stopped listening to Aunt Ulia and Maggie’s adoring chirps, preferring exploring each room on his own and at his own pace.

Every room seemed frozen in time, apparently indifferent of the latter’s incessant flow. Dust danced before his eyes every time he moved something, cupboards creaked when he opened them, and white moths hovered in the room, circling happily in their freedom. Azul jotted down every detail in his mind, skepticism beginning to creep in with every strange thing he encountered.

It almost seemed as if the chalet hadn’t been open to the public for a long time.

He sat on the bed with its wrought-iron headboard, the springs whining under his weight. He glanced at the dressing table in the corner of the room, as elegant as it was antique. Then he turned his back to gaze out the window: beyond the edge of the garden, outlined by a crooked fence, endless fields of wheat, golden almost bronze in the evening sun. There, in the midst of that golden sea, a scarecrow stood—the sewn-on smile and the two-colored marbles reminded him of Floyd, his college classmate.

Yup, he would leave that room to Auntie Ulia. Without a doubt.

«Oh, that’s where you ended up, little fishy,» said Aunt Ulia, appearing from the doorway, her smile bright and her eyes sparkling with pure euphoria. «So how do you like the chalet?» she asked.

It could have been worse, Azul thought to himself, but for reasons of personal pride, he simply said, «Passable,» with an indifferent shrug.

Aunt Ulia’s smile widened. «That’s a good start,» she said with satisfaction. «Maggie left me the keys and told me the pantry should have enough supplies for tonight’s dinner.»

«Should?» Azul repeated, raising an eyebrow.

«Don’t you worry, my little finn. Your auntie may be a free spirit, but she still knows a few cooking tricks like a real chef,» Aunt Ulia replied, completely ignoring what her nephew had pointed out.

It seemed strange to Azul. If a place like that was rented for the entire summer, one would at least expect the fridge to be stocked with food, but then he realized that Aunt Ulia had paid for the place, not the food—a classic move of an unscrupulous real estate agent—and he let it go.

«Have you decided which room you’ll be staying in yet?» Aunt Ulia asked.

«I’ll take the other room.»

«I was kind of hoping for that, you know? That dressing table is truly delightful.»

«It creeps me out. I’ll gladly leave it with you.»

«Come on now, help me with dinner. We’ll unpack our bags later.»

Maggie was returning home when, right in the middle of the road, her older brother Scott, looking less than pleased, stopped her.

«When were you going to tell me you’d put an ad online for renting the chalet?» he asked sternly.

«I would have done so before Ulia and her nephew arrived… eventually,» the girl admitted, beginning to tug at the ribbon sewn onto her apron with nervousness.

«Eventually?» Scott repeated with irk. «So I’m supposed to be okay with strangers paying for a house that doesn’t even belong to us anymore?»

«The chalet still belongs to us!» Maggie retorted angrily, stung.

«This is called fraud, Margaret!» her brother replied. «I don’t know what silly plan you’ve got in your head, but there’s nothing we can do now—»

«Yes, there is!» his sister interrupted. «But both you and Uncle Mitch are too stubborn and proud to listen to me!»

Scott took a deep breath before snorting loudly, just like a bolting horse. He ran a hand over his face wearily—with all the trouble the ranch was going through, this was the last thing they needed now.

«When Dad finds out about this…» he murmured.

«But he won’t find out if you don’t go and tell on me, dear Scottie.»

«Are you threatening me, lil sis?»

«I’m just letting you know that nothing will happen if you play along.»

Scott snorted again. «And you seriously think the deposit that eccentric woman and her bored spoiled-lookin’ nephew paid for just three months is enough to cover what we owe our friend?»

«It may not be like winning the lottery, but it’s a good starting point for us to get back on our feet,» Maggie replied with burning determination.

Scott found himself sighing; his sister was more stubborn than a mule. She cared more about the ranch than anyone else and was willing to do anything to protect it.

«Okay, fine, I won’t tell Dad or your naive guests,» the young man conceded, but then asked his younger sister another question, voicing his concerns. «How do you plan to entertain your guests though? We don’t have state-of-the-art facilities like our neighbors—no swimming pools, tennis courts, or massage parlors. Three months is a long time if you have nothing interestin’ to do.»

«I’ll come up with something. I’m not short of ideas, you know that,» Maggie replied, passing him and stomping her feet until her figure disappeared over the descending hill.

«Oh, I know...that’s exactly what’s worrying me,» Scott said to himself, glancing at the lit chalet. A cloud of smoke was billowing from the kitchen window, and the cowboy half-heartedly considered sneaking behind his sister’s back, inform the unsuspecting guest of the situation, and passing it off as a fluke but he thought better of it, turning on his heel and heading home as well.

«It’s going to be a long summer…»

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