“I looked in the glove box,” Michael says. “I saw the truck belongs to that Josh fellow he went missing in the fall. I saw the flyers in the grocery store when I was home Thanksgiving. My parents were talking about it. Josh worked for TVA. Josh had a wife and a baby, Josh up and disappeared.
“That’s too bad, I thought,” Michael says. “Then I didn’t think anything of it until I come home, come to work at the barn, ride down the dirt road on the tractor, and see this truck wedged in the brush. It startles me a little bit. But not as much as when I open the glove box to see who’s truck it is and see Josh’s name on the registration.
“I’m a little startled, Emma, you can imagine,” Michael says. “So I look closely inside the truck and nothing really catches my attention but these golden hairs on the back of the seat.
“This just doesn’t make sense, Emma. What didn’t you mean to do?”
“I didn’t mean to kill him,” she says.
“That’s what I was afraid you were going to say. Lord have mercy, Emma Mays. That’s what I was afraid you were going to say.”
Michael moves from the wall and starts pacing slowly back and forth in front of Emma, who has taken a seat on the barn floor on some loose hay. Her legs are folded and her elbows are resting on her legs and her head is resting in her hands.
“I didn’t mean to,” Emma says, softly.
“You didn’t mean to,” Michael says, turning toward Emma. “Shew. I hear you. Right. You didn’t mean to. Josh did something to you and you had no choice and something happened to him? Is that it?”
“No,” Emma says, “not exactly.”
“What do you mean, not exactly?”
“I mean he didn’t do anything to me, but I didn’t mean to.”
Michael drops his head to his hands and sighs.
Emma is silent.
In a minute, Michael walks to Emma and sits down beside her on the barn floor. He reaches for her hands and holds them. She squeezes his back, tightly.
“It’s good to see you,” Michael says. “I’m sorry. I’m sure there is a good explanation. But you have to understand my shock. I’m sure we can work this out once we call the sheriff and all.
"We can get this cleared up. It shouldn’t be a problem. You can just explain what happened and they can get this truck out of here, tell his wife and everybody can move on.”
“Sheriff?” Emma says. “No sheriff! You cannot call the sheriff.”
“Emma,” Michael says, “it’s awful and all, believe me, it’s awful. But if you didn’t mean to do it, you didn’t commit a crime. You have no reason to be hiding his truck. That makes it look like you have done something wrong. We can’t keep hiding that truck, and now I know about it now. If I don’t do something, I’m involved with something I had nothing to do with.”
“We can’t call the sheriff!” Emma says, raising her voice, and pulling her hands free of his.
“We have to Emma,” he says. “We just don’t have a choice. You are not going to talk me out of that. It will all be okay. I’m sure you are scared. But you can explain what really happened.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Emma says. “Tell them I am a vampire or something.”
Michael gives Emma a long, pleading look.
“No,” Emma. “No crazy tale. Just tell them the truth.”
“Kiss me,” she says.
“What?”
“Kiss me.”
Michael wants to say no, considering all the information he has to digest. But he’s drawn beyond reason to oblige Emma’s request.
He touches her cheek with his right hand, softly. He gazes into her eyes as they sit, facing one another on the barn floor.
“You are so beautiful,” Michael says.
His eyes move to her nose, her chin, and her neck.
“What happened?” Michael says.
“I was bitten,” Emma says.
“Bitten.”
“By what?”
“A rattlesnake.”
Michael moves in for the kiss, starting softly, with his mouth slightly open. But the soft touch of Emma’s lips is too alluring, and the soft kiss quickly turns to a passionate broil. Emma falls back to the barn floor slowly, pulling Michael down on top.
She opens her crossed legs, wrapping them around Michael’s torso, and moves her hips into his groin. Her mouth waters.
“Michael,” she says in their embrace. “Michael.”
She moves her mouth toward his neck, licking her lips.
"I can't believe what you have told me," Michael says, as Emma grinds against him. "I don't know what to do."