The Many Deaths of Cole Parker by Lisa D. Kastner

Author:Lisa D. Kastner [Grant, Taylor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Running Wild Press

Emma and I were neighbors growing up in Copper Creek, Arizona, a small desert town no one I’ve ever met has heard of. It was easy to understand. Abandoned copper mines, some lovely mountain views, and a struggling farming community was pretty much all there was to know.

My father owned a diesel mechanic shop, worked himself to the bone, and liked to complain about it. My mother was a quiet woman, a dedicated housewife, and the most astonishing cook I’ve ever known. Emma’s parents were overly strict, deeply religious, and extremely protective of her, particularly with regard to boys. Fortunately, I didn’t have to deal with her parents much, as they worked long hours at the biggest dairy farm in the area.

I was lucky enough to become close with Emma for three reasons, first was proximity. As my next-door neighbor, we played together our entire childhood—especially during the summertime, when it was easier to fight the perpetual boredom of Copper Creek together. Secondly, Emma’s parents were very selective of who spent time with their daughter, so I had little competition. Thirdly, and most significant, my parents were heavily involved in our local Baptist church, which meant that I was involved by default. For this reason, Emma’s parents saw me as a god-fearing youth, and I got an automatic seal of approval.

I was overweight back then. My mother was from the south, and we ate a steady diet of biscuits and gravy, buttermilk pancakes, chicken and dumplings, and an endless supply of fried foods—all made by hand. Mom’s food was impossible to resist, as my body gave ample testament.

My weight never seemed to bother Emma, though. As long as I could keep up with her, that is. She was just as rough-and-tumble as any of the boys in the neighborhood. Despite her beauty, what impressed me most about her then was that she could skip rocks on the river better than anyone I knew.

Neither of our parents allowed us to watch much TV, so we spent a lot of time riding around the neighborhood on our bikes, causing as much trouble as possible. That was hard to do in a neighborhood with little more than wild desert shrubbery and desolate roads that seemed to lead nowhere.

Due to the long working days of my dad and Emma’s parents, my mom was the default babysitter during the summer and after school. Fortunately for us, she was terrified of tarantulas, scorpions, and snakes, all of which were plentiful in Copper Creek. So when we went outside we were usually unchaperoned. This gave us free reign to defy death daily: climbing the endless black hills, catching scorpions and snakes, and skipping a mountain’s worth of rocks across the sparkling waters of Copper Creek.

It wasn't until I turned twelve years old, that I started to see Emma differently. That was the summer her breasts arrived with the subtlety of Mount Vesuvius erupting.

I knew she was beautiful, as was made clear to me daily by the students at our school.

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