Makin' Her Way, the Only Way She Knows How

"You're incredible, you know that pig?" Arielle asked in a muffled voice.

"Well thank you miss, it's always a pleasure to receive positive feedback from clients," came the genuinely happy sounding response from the reason for Arielle's discomfort. "In my line of work it's usually, 'Eff off and die pig!' Or, 'I hope you choke on your donut!'" Deputy McCarthy went on, her strong hands continuing to press the younger woman up against the cobweb infested wall as she checked for weapons.

Finding none, she stood with her hand resting comfortably on her service pistol and took a few steps back from her 'client' as she radioed in. "Dispatch, car 4 reporting in from the one-forty call." She paused, releasing the button on the handset filling the old stalls with the sound of static.

"Go ahead Shonda." Was the eventual, slow response. "Whacha got?"

Deputy Shonda McCarthy met the younger woman's eyes as she turned, the teen failing to hide the trepidation she felt. The seasoned deputy tried not to laugh at the look on her face when the girl tried desperately not to sneeze, or break down in tears.

The click of the handset left a silence louder than the static. "That you Bubba?" Deputy McCarthy stated more than asked, now eschewing proper radio protocol as well.

"Yap." Bubba drawled back. "The Sheriff and the Missus had a coupon for The Olive Garden that was going to expire, and you know Betty ain't about ta’ let anything go to waste." Arielle heard a strange new static over the radio as she listened on in disgusted amazement. Bubba's voice broke back in, and she realized the strange sound was him stuffing something into his mouth. "’Course the Sheriff was cursing up a blue streak to all of us. You know he don't go in for no fancy eatin'. But he hasn't stayed Sheriff for 30 years by being stupid, and arguin' with Betty 'bout as stupid as you can get!" He laughed, still over the open channel, unable to see the pained look on Deputy McCarthy's face, or the one of revulsion Arielle wore.

A split second break in the ramblings of Deputy Bubba, and Shonda capitalized. "Alright, thanks Deputy. I'll write up my report and leave it on the Sheriff's desk."

A disgruntled Bubba Bubba answered, seemingly annoyed that she would cut off his tale before he got to the good part, probably involving another time the Sheriff’s wife had a coupon nearing expiration. “Yea, you make sure you do that Shonda.”

“Ten-Four,” she replied sweetly. “Out.”

Deputy McCarthy shook her head as she watched the girl in front of her contemplate bolting for the gap in the doors of the old barn. “Don’t bother. I haven’t even decided if I’m going to arrest you or not yet, so don’t go making that decision for me by running.”

“Arrest me for what?” Arielle challenged.

“Whatever it was you did that was illegal.” Came Shonda’s obvious reply. “Or whatever it was you were about to do that was illegal.”

Arielle seemed genuinely indignant at this statement, stepping towards the deputy, lip curling up. “What? Just because I’m Brown and a Foster Kid that means I’m a criminal?” She looked the older woman up and down, then scoffed. “I would’ve thought you at least would have understood. Not like the rest of the fat, dumb rednecks who wear a badge in this county.”

Deputy McCarthy snapped back at her, “Don’t you take that tone with me young lady!” Her tone would have fit in to the Church parking lot on a Sunday afternoon perfectly, should her children be throwing firecrackers under the Pastor’s car. “I don’t judge people by the color of their skin, because I’ve dealt with enough of that in my life. And Bubba and the Sheriff and the rest might be ignorant, judgemental buffoons, but that doesn’t make them evil.” She shook her head in annoyance, knowing she had been baited. “It ain’t easy wearing a badge in this county, no matter what color your skin is.”

“And you think it’s any easier being the only Brown girl in your high school? And being named after a freakin’ Disney Princess!?” The girl was either truly upset, or had a bright future on screen. “The other kids don’t even know how to make fun of me! One week I’m ‘The Littlest Gaucho’ and the next they call me ‘Billie Jean Picket’!”

From what Shonda could see, the second was probably a more apt description. She would have fit right in at any Country Bar in her jeans and checkered shirt.

“If given a choice,” the Deputy started seriously, “I’d definitely go with the second option. That’s actually pretty clever.” She finished with a chuckle.

Arielle looked at her incredulously, then smiled against her will. “Heh,” she huffed without much humor, “I’ll definitely tell them to stick with the Gaucho one then. That way they won’t use it.”

The older woman tried to convey her understanding with a smile. “Let’s face it: if you’re going to be stuck with a nickname, a combination of a Michael Jackson song and a famous Black Cowboy isn’t a bad one.”

“Hey, thanks, I…”

“But that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten why I’m out here in the old Miller’s Barn at 2 AM.”

Arielle’s face fell. “Can’t you just forget I was here?”

“That depends on why you are here.” Deputy McCarthy replied firmly, amused as the girl looked sincerely abashed for the first time.

But her patience was wearing thin as the silence dragged on. “Oh for Pete’s sake….what? The boy you like told you he’d meet you out here?”

“No.” Came the response, directed at the floor.

“Trying to get in tight with the cheerleaders, and this is their way of hazing you?”

“Ew, no.” Arielle bit back, meeting her eyes.

“Running away from your evil Foster Mother because she makes you do all the chores?”

“That’s an offensive stereotype, and I take offense at…..”

“Looking for D.B. Cooper’s hidden score?”

“What? Who?”

“Doing a ritual to commune with your recently deceased Grandmother so she can tell you that you’ve always had what it takes, deep down inside of you?”

“Wha? No, just, no. I’m not actually a Disney character you know.”

“Well then how about sometime before sunrise you tell me the real reason? Or I can put you in the car right now and we’ll go see what Bubba thinks.”

“Mushrooms!” The girl finally blurted out.

“Mushrooms?” The Deputy questioned, hoping this conversation wasn’t steering towards an arrest for hallucinogenic fungus. “As in the magic kind?”

“No!” The now frantic girl blurted. “My friend saw on MyFace that chefs are paying big money for mushrooms that are hard to find for their restaurants!”

Shonda stared the girl down, not knowing if she was being played, or if this poor girl had been. “And you think mushrooms are grown in barns?”

Annoyance blossomed on the teen’s face again. “No, I’m not stupid.” Her tone leaving no room that she thought the other woman definitely was for doubting her. “I saw online that some rare mushrooms grow really well in old barns. The combination of old manure, old wood, and a leaky roof makes the perfect environment for them. And they can sell for a couple thousand dollars a pound!”

The Deputy, who had heard many a tall tale in her time on the job, was impressed. She just didn’t know if it was by this girl’s ability to pass her ‘BS Detector’, or at her tenacity and research skills.

“I have absolutely no idea if any of that is true.” The Deputy answered honestly. “So, you’re going to get a free ride home, and I’m going to do some research.” She leveled her most serious gaze at the girl who’s face had transformed with hope. “If it turns out you were spinning a yarn to get yourself out of trouble, you’re going to find yourself even deeper in it.” She waited a moment for that to sink in. “And if it turns out you were telling the truth, you and I are going to visit the owners of this rundown old barn, and you’re going to apologize to them, explain yourself, and ask their permission before you set one foot in here again.”

Arielle had started nodding along as the Deputy spoke, looking eager.

“And on the off chance you find a fortune in mushrooms in a barn, you will do the right thing and pay the owners a fair price for them.”

She looked much less eager at that.

“Do we have an agreement?”

“Yes ma’am.” Was the measured reply.

Deputy McCarthy sighed, then turned to head back to her car, beckoning over her shoulder as she did.

“I’m probably going to regret asking this, but you’re probably not planning on saving that money for college, are you?”

Arielle’s smile transformed her, and Shonda suddenly worried for the boys of the County.

“I figure if I’m going to make it in the mushroom business, I’m going to need a way to transport the product.”

“So a nice, practical, dependable old pickup truck then?”

The teen’s nose scrunched up in distaste. “I’ll leave that to the boys with two first names.” Her smile widened. “My Foster Dad’s Cousin has a 69 Charger for sale…”

The Deputy scowled to hide her smile. The girl had good taste in cars, as long as she wasn’t planning on painting it orange.