Redneck Tale - Naughty Shorts (2 page)

“
Nah, that’s how it's
s’pose to fit,” she said and beamed. “What I wouldn’t give to have
a rack like that.”

My cheeks heated up. How in the hell
was this woman related to me? I knew she was supposed to be my
mother’s sister, but I had my doubts. The two were as different as
night and day. My mom leaned on the sophisticated side and didn’t
use words like hootenanny or shindig. They did look a lot alike,
minus the Tammy Faye Bakker eyeshadow and mascara, that is. My
mother said Sadie met my Uncle Jimmy on spring break, got knocked
up, quit college, and completely embraced hillbilly living. I
understand my grandparents weren’t pleased. That may be why I’d
rarely seen her.

“
Won’t you be the belle of
the ball? Yep, you’ll have plenty of beaus chasing you around, I
suspect. Who knows? You may meet Mr. Right.”

“
I sort of doubt that,” I
said and finally turned to look in the mirror. “I’m not the
marrying kind. I enjoy my independence.”

“
That’ll all change when
you meet the man that turns your stomach inside out. I said the
same thing before I met Jimmy,” she said and grinned as if
reminiscing.

Dear god, if Jimmy turned her stomach
inside out, she had issues. I stared at my pathetic reflection and
reminded myself that I’d only be here for a couple of days. Surely
two days in Redneckville wouldn’t kill me? I mean, I’ve survived
worse. But still, orange wasn’t my color, and this dress screamed
to be burned in a pit, along with the hog.

Satisfied the dress fit just fine,
Aunt Sadie ushered me out the front door after I changed. “You
simply must see the woods all decorated up.”

“
You’re right,” I said and
plastered a smile on my face. “Camo and hunter orange dresses
deserve a special place in the woods.” I didn’t add that I believed
with a torch and a shovel, though.

The wedding was to be a late afternoon
affair, on account of the heat and humidity. I wasn't sure how
anyone coped with the unbearable temperature here. The humid air
was a special kind of hell for me and I fanned my face immediately
as I walked out of the house and into the sun.

“
We can take the cart,”
Aunt Sadie said and pointed to the biggest wreck of a golf cart I’d
ever seen.

Spray painted camo in browns and
greens, the artwork lacked considerably. In bold letters on the
hood, the beast was proclaimed Deer Slayer. The old leather seats
had rips and tears, stuffing poking up here and there. On the back
was a gun rack with fake leaves hanging from it.

As we took off, the cart stuttered and
hesitated.

“
Come on, Deer Slayer.
Don’t fail me now,” Aunt Sadie coaxed with a thick
drawl.

Putt, putt, putt. The beast jerked and
hummed before really getting going. Aunt Sadie beamed and stroked
the cracked dash. “That’s it, baby.”

I suppressed a sigh and hung on. Every
once in a while the cart missed and backfired, lunged forward at a
fast pace and then slowed back down. We got on a trail that wound
back and forth between large trees. Brush and limbs smacked against
the Plexiglas windshield and occasionally slapped my arms. I rubbed
the stinging sensation away and clutched the seat for fear of
falling out when Sadie took a sharp turn and hollered for me to,
“Hang on, Sloopy!”

Entering a rough patch of the trail,
the cart bottomed out a couple of times and I bounced on the
crackling seat, scratching the backs of my legs. How far was the
spot? I wished I knew. My brain jumbled around inside my skull and
I could feel a headache coming on.

“
Almost there, girl!” Aunt
Sadie said and cut hard to the left into a clearing. She stomped on
the brake and my body lunged forward, head smacking the plastic
windshield.

I can’t be sure, but swore I saw
stars.

Aunt Sadie got out and beamed. “Well,
what do ya think?”

Hay bales were lined up, row after row
for seating. Camo streamers outlined the walk of forever and ever,
I friggin' do. At the end of the last walk of freedom, an altar
made up of tree limbs and a mesh that looked similar to netting one
would see on army transports stood prominently. Instead of a
candelabra, Mason jars were hung with wire, a candle in each. Off
to the right, tables were set up, all covered in the same bright
orange fabric, decorated with jars full of flowers and camo bows.
It wasn’t the most unfortunate looking setup. Somehow it had a
hometown, country feel, and even I had to admit, it was really kind
of pretty.

“
Wow, was Martha Stewart
here?” I asked and Aunt Sadie beamed. I had to smile at that. She
was a sweet woman, even though she was a little off.

“
I wouldn’t want to brag,”
she replied and tugged me along. “Now over here is where the band
will be. Jimmy is bringing up some flood lights, 'cuz it gets
pretty dark out here at night. And over there will be the dancin’
area. Oh, and the kegs will be set up over here.”

“
What about a bathroom?” I
asked.

Aunt Sadie gave me a quizzical look.
“Honey, child.” She waved her hands toward the trees. “There are
plenty of places in the woods to do your business. Don’t tell me
you ain’t ever peed in the woods.”

“
Uh, no,” I replied and
cringed at the thought.

“
Well, be careful where you
squat so you don’t get into poison ivy, and you’ll be just
fine.”

I closed my eyes and tried to erase
the image from my mind. I had no damn idea what poison ivy even
looked like. A night from hell awaited me.

Chapter 2

“
Oh, my god!” Sammy shouted
and ran through the living room toward me. “Vicky!”

I wheezed when she hugged me and gave
her a little pat on the back. She was squeezing the life out of me.
“Congratulations,” I said and was thankful when she let go of
me.

“
Wow, Vicky. I wouldn’t
have ever believed it was you,” Sammy said and looked at me from
head to toe. “How many years has it been?”

“
Around fifteen, I think.”
She had changed a lot, too. No longer was she the freckly faced
blonde with a dirt covered face I remembered from our childhood.
Sammy had really grown into a beautiful woman. “Are you
nervous?”

“
Me?” Sammy asked. “Nah, me
and Bo have been together for years. 'Bout time he proposed
anyway.”

“
Well, your daddy wasn’t
gonna let him continue to get the milk for free,” Aunt Sadie chimed
in. “You two ought to be married. Playing house and having sex
isn’t marriage.”

“
Oh, Mom. You’re so old
fashioned,” Sammy said and laughed. “I’ve been getting the sausage
for free, so it don’t matter.”

Oh, geesh. I wanted to crawl under
something. I was in the middle of a conversation I didn’t want to
be privy to. I also couldn’t wait to board a flight back to
civilization.

“
It’ll be all proper and
legal soon enough,” Aunt Sadie said and looked toward her black
kitty cat clock on the wall. At some point in time the tail had
been broken off and replaced with a cardboard one that clicked back
and forth while its eyes moved to and fro in the opposite
direction. “Goodness me, we better get ready.”

As if on cue, three women burst
through the front door, godawful orange dresses draped over their
arms. In their other hands, they carried beers, and acted like it
was their umpteenth one.

“
Oh, my god!” one woman
squealed. “Sammy’s getting married!”

The other two cheered while sloshing
beer on the stained carpet. I assumed it must be the norm to get
totally hammered before a wedding, so when Aunt Sadie asked if I
wanted a drink, I replied with, “Hell, yes.” In redneck hell,
that’s where I was, smack dab in the middle.

The trio giggled down the hall to a
bedroom, their voices carrying throughout the house. Sammy hitched
a thumb in their direction. “They’re a crazy bunch of bitches, but
they’ll grow on ya.”

“
Oh, yeah, I’m certain they
will,” I agreed and accepted the beer my Aunt Sadie handed to me. I
chugged down half the can, sure there wasn’t enough alcohol on the
planet to help me through this. In less than two hours I would be
captured on film wearing an orange bridesmaid dress, and more than
likely steadying the maid of honor at the altar.

Sammy urged me to follow her down the
hall, stating she needed my expert makeup advice. I cringed. The
bedroom was full of tipsy Daisy Dukes and I felt my IQ drop three
points. Not kidding. We entered and every one of them were stripped
down to just their panties, perfectly fine with a stranger, me,
seeing their naked breasts.

“
Johnny said one of my tits
was bigger than the other,” a ditzy blonde said and held them up,
squinting down critically at them. “Are they?”

I rubbed my eyes, chugged down the
rest of the beer, and snuck out of the room. “Aunt Sadie,” I called
as I walked toward the living room. “I think I’m going to need
another beer.”

* * * *

The sun had begun to wane and the
temperature settled to a more comfortable degree of heat. Sweat
trailed down my temples and beaded between my breasts. I held a
bouquet of wildflowers and felt my hands itch. So help me, the
flowers had better come from a florist and not picked from a field.
I knew damn well what chiggers were, having had my first encounter
with them as a child.

I trailed behind Tipsy One, Two, and
Three. In front of them was an ill-tempered flower girl who wasn’t
happy with the heat or her role. She grabbed large handfuls of
flower petals and threw them at the guests instead of along the
path we walked. Everyone seemed to find it amusing and laughed. Of
course, most in attendance had a red Solo cup and had already
visited the keg a time or two.

We took our places at the camo clad
altar of sorts. The band began to play Sweet Home Alabama, cat
calls and shouts erupted from the inebriated crowd. I smiled and
even giggled a time or two. Sammy was escorted by my Uncle Jimmy,
and I must say, he cleaned up well for an old hillbilly. The camo
dress was sort of growing on me too, in an unconventional way. It
suited Sammy and her redneck lifestyle.

Out the corner of my eye, I caught one
of the groomsmen staring my way. I turned and glanced at him. He
winked and I rolled my eyes before turning my attention back to the
bride. Talk about a randy crowd. Even the groomsmen had had a few
to drink and were already hitting on the bridesmaids. The guy that
winked at me was currently elbowing the guy next to him. It made me
uncomfortable, because I knew he was talking about me. Maybe I
should have slammed down a couple more drinks before this shindig
got started.

Uncle Jimmy passed Sammy to Bo and
curtly stepped back. The preacher didn’t look like much of a
preacher, not that I truly knew what one should look like, but I
doubted Sunday service included camo pants and shirt with an hunter
orange vest either.

“
Who gives this woman to be
wed?” the not-so-preacher-like preacher asked.

Uncle Jimmy cleared his throat. “Uh,
me and her momma.”

I suppressed a laugh and pushed my
lips together, fearful I might burst at any time. While I couldn’t
wait to get out of here, I knew without a doubt I’d have memories
that would last me a lifetime. It was then I realized I could
practically do whatever I wanted, within reason, and wouldn’t have
to worry about my reputation tomorrow. I peered over at the
semi-hot groomsman and winked back.

Whether it was the heat or the
humidity, something stirred inside me. Then again, it might have
been the four beers I'd consumed before we left the house. The
preacher continued with the ceremony, and all in all, it was much
like any other wedding. Do you promise to love, cherish, and blah,
blah, blah.

Thank goodness the ceremony didn’t
last long. When it came to the part where the preacher asked if
anyone had any reason the two shouldn’t be married, I held my
breath, but no one found reason, and instead shouted for Bo to kiss
the bride. I believe everyone was tiring from the heat and cold
beer sat not more than thirty feet away. The people here were
growing on me, lack of manners included.

Cheers, whoops, and hollers echoed
through the timber when Bo planted a kiss on Sammy that turned
heated to X-rated in seconds. The band started playing Sweet Home
Alabama again and after a few congratulatory hugs and such, a line
formed at the kegs, and at the potluck table of food.

Dumb, dumber, and dumbest, the maid of
honor and other bridesmaids flitted away, finding a man to grab
onto. The ones they picked were the closest to the front of the
line to the keg. I had to give them credit, they knew how to work
the men around here.

“
So, city girl,” Mr. Winky
Groomsman said. “I’m Luke. Should I call you city girl, or do you
have a name?”

“
Vicky,” I said and upon
further inspection, found the man leaned more on the irresistible
side than I'd realized. As far as I could tell, he still had all
his teeth. Bonus points. Call me a stereotyping bitch if you will,
but I’d seen some pretty bad grill jobs since I’d
arrived.

“
You uh, have a date for
the evening?” Luke asked and offered a coy grin.