Free Argosy Junction by Chautona Havig Page A

foolish, she opened the email again and clicked “print.” She grabbed her email, folded it, and stuffed it in her back pocket. Patience’s printed email sat forgotten on the desk until Patience raced to get it after the meal.
     

Six
     
     
    While half of the day crew enjoyed pizza at their favorite place around the corner, Matt sat at one of the long picnic tables near the back of the truck yard. He munched on a stale sandwich, took a swig of syrupy Coke, and wrote his letters to Lane and Patience.
    The guys had razzed him about his Montana girlfriend until he showed them a picture taken of him and Patience one night before they cleaned up after work. Both of them were covered in wool, sweaty, and grimy. Patience held rabbit ears over his head while he tickled her.
    Her letter charmed even the gruffest of the men, and the coarseness of the teasing ceased much to Matt’s relief. Something about the guys talking glibly about the Argosys bothered him. His new friends deserved better than that.
    He sealed the envelope and slapped a stamp on it just as the buzzer announced the start of the afternoon shift. Matt handed the letters to Fran, the matronly office dragon, on his way past her desk and asked her to send them out with the day’s mail. Soon, it’d be too warm to write outside, but for now, it was a great way to spend his lunch break.
     
    ~*~*~*~
     
    The keyboard keys clacked rapidly under Tad’s fingers. He wrote describing their delight with the Wheatley family and of a bobcat in the area that had killed three lambs that week. Patience’s hovering drove him nuts until eventually, Tad slid out of the chair and opened a fresh email for her.
     
    To: [email protected]
    From: [email protected]
    Subject: Hi!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
     
    Dear Matt,
    Email is fun. I love how fast it is. But I can’t send you gum over the Internet. I’m sorry.
    I have a new friend! We went to a store yesterday and there is a girl there. Her name is Megan and we’re best friends. They look like Brethren, but they don’t talk like them, and they talk to us, so I don’t know if they’re real Brethren or just pretending to be.
    Megan let me borrow her favorite book. It is called The Little Princess . So far, it’s really good, but kind of sad. It has stuff about India in it, and I want to go there. India sounds neat.
    Tad wants me to say bye so he can get back to the horses.
    Bye,
    Patience
     
    Lane heard Patience and Tad shut the front door behind them. Her parents, Levi, and Jude were in Spokane for the day. Feeling quite foolish, Lane raced for the computer and opened the inbox. She wanted to reply to Matt’s letter before anyone noticed and teased her about it. She’d avoided the Internet for this long, changing for a man would bring certain attention.
     
     
    To: [email protected]
    From: [email protected]
    Subject: Sonnets and Friends
     
    Matt,
    I got your email; thank you for writing. I prefer real mail, but email does have its charms. For instance, it’s faster. Then again, anticipation might be dulled. We’ll have to see. I read your 94th Sonnet. It reminds me of that song from the movie, Emma. (See, I’ve seen a few movies in the past few years!) You know, the line that says, “Stinks, rots, aahhhaaaahhhnd dies!” I think it is time for me to write a sonnet. Here is my first attempt.
     
    I think that I shall never again see
    A man encircled by sheep bleating free.
    A man who stands there with a book
    A face of terror is his look
    A man who takes off his shoes and then
    Leaves them to be sought again.
    Sonnets are written by fools like me
    To torture Matt in that big ci-ty.
     
    What do you think? Am I Shakespeare’s long lost niece? I think it’s quite marvelous.
    I have to admit, I didn’t want to go to the store you told us about. Rose Wheatley showed me an afghan like you got your mother. It was gorgeous! If only people made beautiful things like that out of some other