A shot in the dark
I asked my husband to name three things to incorporate into a short writing exercise. He said oil, barn and hay bales. Here’s how it went.
“Please, just stay,” Cara gripped his shoulders as she kneeled behind him. They both looked west as the sun’s soft orange glow slowly dropped below the row of tall, round hay bales stacked end-to-end in his father’s barn yard. The letter sat beside him. He’d received an email with the same news a few days before, but holding the actual paper with the school’s official seal made it more real. He had applied on a whim without telling anyone after the high school guidance counselor had informed him that his grades were good, too good to ignore. Hayes had gotten into a prestigious civil engineering degree program out west. He’d blindly picked the University of Southern California after a quick Google search of “best engineering schools,” but USC might as well have been on Mars. He’d never even visited the state, but the letter explained that he had not only been accepted to the school at Berkeley, but also could attend on a generous scholarship.
Hayes and Cara sat in the old barn’s loft on a makeshift mattress of dusty hay. It was his favorite spot on the 33-acre farm where he had lived his whole life. Hayes’ dad was a self-employed mechanic in town but he’d managed to keep alive the little hobby farm inherited from family. A few cows, a beautiful old barn, a small shop and a two-bedroom house well over 100 years old and in desperate need of some modern upgrades.
This little corner of Oklahoma, within an hour’s drive of Tulsa, was all Hayes had ever known, and a year ago, he would’ve told you it was right where he wanted to be … forever. Comfortable and predictable, he had gone along with the idea that he’d bypass college after high school. He would enroll in a vocational program to become an electrician. It was a respectable and steady career. He could still help out his father at the shop and on the farm. But once he and Cara had started dating, her dad had taken a keen interest in his future and offered him a job on one of his drilling rigs in the area. Osage Oil wasn’t the biggest oil company in the state, but it was one of the oldest, and Cara’s father was a powerful man.
Cara lived a few miles down the road in a much bigger, nicer house on a sprawling ranch, but high school had insulated the couple from noticing their economic differences. Everyone attended the same classes, ate in the same cafeteria and cheered for the same football team. But now, in the fall semester of their senior year, Hayes could feel a shift. Adulthood was looming, and he knew their backgrounds would soon play a larger role in what came next.
That cool September evening in his dad’s hay loft, Hayes had shown the USC letter to Cara and searched her eyes for an immediate reaction. Was she relieved that he might move away, or did the news spark a sadness in her that proved she loved him?
“You’re leaving?” she asked after reading the letter. Confusion flushed her face.
“Well, I don’t know. It’s a lot to think about. Do you think I should?”
“Does your dad know about this?” she whispered.
“No.” Hayes said turning away to look toward the tired white farmhouse. “He doesn’t even know I applied.”
“But why did you apply? I thought you were considering dad’s offer, and I’m only going to be a couple of hours away. I thought we were going to stay together.”
“Does me leaving mean we have to break up?”
The light pouring in through the loft’s big window was starting to fade as he watched her draw up her legs and rest her chin on her knees. She was hurt, he could tell.
“Well, if you leave town, that means you’re leaving me too.”
“No, it doesn’t. It’s not for forever. Maybe I can just go get this degree and come back and find an engineering job in Tulsa. Four years could go by fast.”
“I’d never see you, Hayes. You know that would be hard.”
She was right. A long-distance relationship wasn’t an option, not with a girl like Cara. Next year, she was headed to one of Oklahoma’s state schools on a cheerleading scholarship. She planned to rush for a sorority. She wanted to find an internship in Tulsa. Her life was grounded in Oklahoma for good. If he dropped out of the picture, it wouldn’t take long for someone else to fall for her and join her well-laid plans.
“Can’t you get an engineering degree here? Why USC? Why so far away?”
“I didn’t apply for any scholarships here. I didn’t even apply to go anywhere here. USC was just a shot in the dark. I didn’t think I’d get in.”
“You want to go, don’t you?” she asked turning to face his side profile. He sat upright and alert, still staring toward the farmhouse, his legs dangling out of the hay loft window.
“It’s not that I want to leave home. It’s just that I never thought it was an option. Now that it is, I’m curious. Haven’t you ever wondered what’s out there?”
“Yes, I’ve BEEN there. We’ve vacationed everywhere my whole life,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“That’s just it,” Hayes said looking at her squarely. “You can go anytime you want. With me, that’s never been possible.”
“You know you’re always welcome to join us,” she replied, but she knew what he was talking about. For the first time, she felt that same pang of awareness in the world they shared. Cara knew Hayes didn’t like the idea of her family paying his way. That’s why he had changed the subject every time she’d asked if he had thought about her father’s offer.
She turned away from his gaze and fidgeted with the strings on her hoodie. She was still in sweats from cheerleading practice. He’d asked her to meet him in the loft later that afternoon. Most days after school, he stopped by his dad’s shop to sweep out the space and help his dad with projects. After finishing up at the shop early, he’d texted Cara. He was still dressed in blue jeans and old tennis shoes that complemented his T-shirt spotted with grease and a Texas Rangers hat.
“I want you to be happy. I want you to follow whatever you’re chasing, but I want you here with me too,” she said. “If you leave, I don’t think we should try and stay together.” She sighed and looked out the window. “It’s getting late, I gotta’ go.”
Cara hopped up and started walking toward the back of the loft, but then she stopped, turned and knelt behind him, gripping his shoulders as he faced the setting sun.
“Don’t you love me?”
“I do,” he replied in a quiet, sincere tone.
It was selfish to ask, but staying together while apart wasn’t fair to either one of them. High school love, in person or from afar, rarely made it past the first semester of college.
“Then, please, just stay,” she whispered into his ear. He swung his legs out of the window to turn and look up into her green eyes. Wisps of auburn hair from her ponytail framed her face. Their eyes met and she grinned. Was she worth giving up? Was the scholarship worth turning down? He reached up to kiss her hard on the lips and wrap his arms around her thin waist.
