Page 47 of Divine Sense
31
MAGNOLIA
We’d driven out of the city and were heading north. I’d rarely gone to this part of town because it was outside of my comfort bubble for places to go. I generally kept to downtown and out near the plantations where my parents live, rarely venturing past those invisible borders. He hadn’t said anything the entire drive and instead just kept one hand on my thigh and the other one firmly on the steering wheel. Several times I would try to sneak a peek at him to take in his defined cheekbones and artistically angled jaw. It would never be more than a few seconds of admiring him from the passenger seat that he would catch my stare out of the corner of his eye and smirk.
“What are you lookin’ at?” he played, squeezing my thigh with his fingers as he did.
“Nothing. Just you. I like your face.”
“I believe you once called me handsome,” he teased, calling back to my drunken ramblings from the fall.
I pulled his hand to my lips and kissed the back of it. “I meant it then and I mean it now.”
Suddenly, he turned off the road and into a gas station where there were at least thirty men wearing work boots and worn out baseball hats milling around as if they were waiting for something. He pulled over to the curb and we watched as a black pickup truck pulling a trailer pulled up, rolled down the window, and started speaking to the men. A frenzy broke out in the crowd as the men started to raise their hands and speak in Spanish to the driver of the truck, some of them opening the backdoors and piling in. I’d heard of unskilled laborers finding work this way but I’d never witnessed it with my own eyes. When he started to open his door and get out, I grabbed his arm to stop him.
“What are you doing?” My eyes darted between him and the group of men, some of whom had noticed the all black G-Wagon pull in and were staring at us with watchful eyes.
“There’s an event downtown in a few weeks and there will need to be some cleanup afterwards. I’m going to offer these men some work.”
“But,” I pulled his arm again, stopping him from getting out, “what if they’re dangerous?” My parents had talked about these types of people and how they were ‘stealing the jobs of the good people of Charleston.’ I liked to think I was a pretty open minded person, but what if their sentiments were true?
“These are good people, flower. They’re just like I was not so long ago, needing to support their families and hungry for work.” He took my hand in his and rubbed his thumb across the back of it like he did when he was trying to soothe me. “I promise, they aren’t dangerous. They’re just trying to get by like the rest of us.” He brought the back of my hand to his lips and kissed it before stepping out of the car.
Safely from the passenger seat, I watched as he walked up to the remaining men who hadn’t gotten in the pickup truck a few minutes earlier and started talking to them. Several of them stepped forward and took the business card that he handed themand tipped their hats to him in thanks. Many of them shook his hand and smiled at him before he came back to the car.
“What did you say to them?” I asked.
“I told them about a job I have open for them in a few weeks, explained that I would be sending a van to pick up anyone who wanted work since many of these people don’t have cars and that they would be paid a fair wage. They’ll be provided lunch and dinner as it’s an all day event and my people will drop them off here when the day is done.” I looked at him in admiration for what he’d just done for the men, knowing that for some of them, the work would help their families immensely.
“That’s really generous of you,” I said with a soft smile which he returned.
“I try to give back to the community as much as I can. I grew up here, it’s the least I can do.” His words caused my heart to melt and I couldn’t stop myself from bringing my hand to his cheek.
“You’re a good man, Kolbi Vesey.”
“I like to think so.” He turned and kissed my palm that had been resting on his cheek and I rolled my eyes. Then, he started the car again and pulled out of the gas station, heading towards the highway.
“CanI ask where we’re going yet?” We’d been driving for nearly thirty minutes and were driving down a two-lane road that was canopied with trees draped with Spanish Moss. The road reminded me a lot of the road you had to drive down to get to my house, but I’d never been this direction before.
“Nope, but I can tell you we’re almost there. I hope you’re hungry,” he said with a wide grin on his face. I looked at him,perplexed, before returning my gaze out the window. I loved the vast difference of landscape you could see in Charleston. When you were in the city, it was old architecture and views of the river. Outside of it, you could either be met with subdivisions that had been erected over the last ten years because of the influx of new residents or vast open marshlands that remained undisturbed. As we drove down the road, I took in the double-wide trailers and old homes that had sat on the same land for generations. Since it was still early in the morning, there weren’t many cars on the road. We had rolled the windows down and had the heat on since the morning was chilly, making for the perfect Sunday morning drive.
When we pulled up to a stop sign, I noticed a younger looking man walking down the side of the road with a backpack slung over his shoulder wearing baggy jeans and a sweatshirt. His skin was richer than Kolbi’s, who seemed to have noticed him too. He pulled up next to the stranger and looked at him through his window.
“Where ya headed?” he called out. The boy turned around to look through the window and I ventured to guess he wasn’t more than eighteen.
“Just off of River Road, sir,” the boy replied politely.
“Hop in, we’ll give you a ride.” Kolbi unlocked the doors and waved the boy over with his hand through the window. I looked at him with wide eyes for the second time this morning, stunned he was letting a complete stranger get in the back of his car.My mother would never.He didn’t say anything, just squeezed my thigh twice and gave me a gentle nod.
“Thank you, sir.” The boy fixed his backpack so it was on both shoulders and pulled his jeans up so they were above his waist before stepping up to the car. Once he slid inside, he pulled the buckle across his lap and cleared his throat. “Uh, you can take me to 212 River Road, please.”
Kolbi pulled away finally and started down the road again. I took a breath, not wanting to be rude, and turned to the newest passenger joining our morning drive. “What’s your name?”
“Josiah,” he said curtly, squeezing his lips together in a tight line. He looked as uncomfortable as I felt. Kolbi said nothing and carried on down the street.
“That’s a good name. It’s nice to meet you, Josiah, I’m Magnolia and this is my friend Kolbi.” I reached my hand towards him and he took it, giving it two firm pumps. “Good handshake too,” I offered with a smile. My father had taught me the power of a good handshake so I knew one when I felt it. This got me an embarrassed laugh from Josiah before I turned around in my seat.
Ten minutes later, we pulled into a gravel driveway that had a small, single-story home sitting at the end of it. The paint had faded over the years of sitting in the hot Southern sun, and one of the shutters was hanging on by only a single hinge. Off to the side of the driveway was an old rusted four-door that looked as if it hadn’t been started since Josiah was in diapers. When we came to a stop, I heard him unbuckle the seatbelt in the back seat and turned as he stepped out of the car. He stood next to the driver’s side door and extended his hand towards Kolbi.
