Compulsions are really messed up things. Like the one that is making me cross my legs, at the knees, even though I'm currently wearing jeans. No matter how much I want to uncross them and sit, wide-legged, I can't do so. It was all my fault, so I'm not bitching too much.

I should have known better. I was raised by my parents better. She was just so beautiful and I was surrounded by my peers, egging me on.

The road blurred by as I stared out of the bus window heading toward my new future, my new self-inflicted punishment.

"Go on, dude. You've got to hit that."

"Look at that ass. Just thirty minutes is all I'd need. It's got to be tight as hell."

"Three minutes, you mean. You'd probably blow it trying to get it in."

"Fuck you, man."

"Oh shit, she's bending over. Oh fuck… a little more, dammit!"

I didn't even have the guts to shut my friends up. Being transfixed by the most beautiful petite blonde I'd ever seen had me staring at her with the stupidest expression on my face. That wasn't including the slack jaw I was sporting and the pressure building between my legs as my erection built itself. She couldn't have been more than five-two or five-three. It was hard to tell with the cowboy boots she was wearing.

Short, evenly proportioned, girls have always been my weakness, ever since high school. This girl, whoever she was, was sporting every possible thing that would turn me on: the short denim shorts that grabbed her ass and put it on display, her tanned legs ending in simple cowboy boots, the red and white plaid shirt tied up under B-cup breasts exposing her midriff, and that long blonde hair that looked like she'd just been out riding. In short, she was my dream girl.

I was shaken from my thoughts by a delicate hand on my shoulder.

"Pardon me, sweetheart." I looked up at an elderly lady clutching a baby blue crocheted bag to her chest. "Would you mind very much if I sat here. There's a foul odor of alcohol coming from the… gentleman… next to me."

That almost made me laugh. "Sure, help yourself." I grabbed my backpack from the adjacent aisle seat and gave her a firm, but placating press of my lips.

"Thank you," she said as she made herself comfortable. "It was bearable for the first ten miles, but after that…"

I nodded in understanding. "It's not a problem."

Clutching my pack to my chest, I resumed my staring out of the window.

"I'm Margie Simpleton." Her hand was extended toward me and I shook it briefly, feeling the coolness of her skin. Her touch spoke of her using hand lotion for far too long. Her skin was soft, beyond normal and her nails thin and brittle. The scent of powder and old lady wafted to my nose making it itch slightly.

I naturally responded with my true name, but another compulsion twisted it in my throat. "Ally Baker. I’m pleased to meet you."

Her responding smile showed off a set of perfectly white dentures. There was no way a lady of her years could have perfect teeth. "Baker? You wouldn't by chance be related to Hannah and Jethro Baker in Wiggins?"

I nodded. "They're my aunt and uncle."
Margie's eyes lit up. "You must be Mary and Steve's little girl. You were just up to my knee the last time I saw you."

My brows knitted in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

She patted my hand on the arm rest. "You and your parents used to attend church with me and mine when you were little."

Memories of wearing poofy dresses, white tights, and Mary Jane shoes entered my head. My hair in pigtails bouncing to and fro and dangling my feet off the end of the pew ended the flashback. "Oh, what a nice coincidence."

Margie grasped my hand, and I was getting creeped out by how much she was touching me. "Child, I've learned over eighty-nine years that there is no such thing as coincidence. There's a reason that old drunk sat beside me and made me change seats. For one reason or another, we're going to be a part of each others lives. The Lord works in sneaky ways."

I almost laughed at that. It did bring a smile to my face. She had no idea that it wasn't God that did the weird things; it was his minions.

"NO!" The girl struggled against Tim trying to break his grasp.

"Guys, she said no," I said firmly.

Frank spun around. "You need to man up, Jimmy boy. Get you a piece of this ass. Girls like this hold onto their virginity for years. She's gonna be a sweet piece."

I stalled. These weren't my friends. They were nobody's friends. There were three of them and I wasn't built like a tank, unlike Frank and Perry. The beating I would take would probably put me in the hospital or worse. My fists clenched when I saw the fear in the girl's eyes. They pleaded with me to do something, anything.

Stepping back, I took in the area. Looking for a makeshift weapon, but there was nothing. That's when the screaming started. Jeff hit her across the face and then shoved something into her mouth while Perry started a sawing motion with his hips. Still I stalled, but only for another few seconds. Long enough for me to pull out my Swiss Army knife. It wasn't meant for combat, despite the name, but it would have to do.

After extending the longest blade, I move up behind Frank and pulled his head back far enough to lay the blade across his throat to drag it through. The spray of blood across their backs let Perry and Jeff know something beside their raping an innocent girl was terribly wrong.

Perry had his pants around his legs which left me facing Jeff who was about my physical size. I still had a chance. Dropping Frank's struggling dead weight I launched myself, stabbing blindly at my opponent.

The blade stabbed into his arm and got hung up in the two forearm bones when he twisted away. My hand, already drenched in Frank's blood, made me lose my grip and thus the knife.

Loud pops amidst our struggling signaled the end of the fight. Or rather the end of Jeff and Perry's fight.

Margie knitted for the remainder of the bus ride while I pretended to sleep. She was a nice old lady, but there was only so much yammering about church I could take. I had issues, obviously.

A few minutes before we came to a stop, Margie shook me awake. "We're almost there, Ally."

The grip I had on my backpack eased up as I blinked at the setting sun in the distance. Smiling my thanks, I sat up properly and checked myself over.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. You're a peach. Someone could stick a sack over you and you'd still look beautiful."

"Thank you," I replied, having nothing more to say. I knew exactly how gorgeous I was. She was right. A burlap sack and nothing else would still be sexy as hell on me. In fact, the mental image it brought to mind was kind of pervy now that I thought about it.

"Will I see you at church this Sunday?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I guess. I suppose it depends on if I'm settled in."

After patting my knee and giving me a last look at her dentures the bus came to a halt and Margie took to her feet. I stood after her and slung my backpack over my shoulder then followed the flow of passengers into the backward-ass town of Wiggins, Mississippi.

I scanned the limited crowd at the bus depot for my current uncle, Jethro Baker. A picture rose from memory of a man who stood six foot six and weighed two hundred and fifty pounds, almost all of which was farm-raised, and tanned muscle. He tended three hundred acres of longhorn beef and a hundred acres for a handful of horses all by himself.

His and Hannah's son, Dawson, died in a freak lightening storm the previous year, and his brother-in-law and sister, my parents -- sort of -- in a car wreck soon thereafter. They'd had a hard year which would have been that much harder if their niece, Allison Susan Baker, had died from asphyxiation due to a rag being forced down her throat while she was being gang-raped.

It's one of the reason's I made the deal to take her place. It was my fault that she didn't live, love, and grow old. If I'd only kept my mouth shut when I saw her then we would have walked on down the street and she wouldn't have had a care in the world. But I had to stop and point her out. Then I stalled right before Jeff entered her. If I didn't stutter in my manhood and acted, then she might have gotten away. Jeff wouldn't have hit her and stuffed his varsol covered handkerchief in her mouth. Ally had a reaction to the fluid that is used to cut grease in machine shops. Her throat closed up and then she choked to death in a dirty alleyway being pawed at by oversexed drunks.

I'd killed Frank, Jeff wound up shot by Perry on accident, and me on purpose. A cop wound up shooting him on purpose.

"Ally!"

I looked up and saw the man that matched my memory. "Uncle Jethro!"

In three long steps he was in front of me and grabbing me by the hips, slinging me up in the air like I weighed absolutely nothing at all. I came back down and wrapped my arms around his neck so I wouldn't fall. His laughter was deep and happy, obviously pleased that his niece was home where he could protect her properly.

"Lord, it's good to see you again, Ally Sue."

My legs involuntarily wrapped around his waist in a familiar way. It's great to see you too, Uncle Jethro." Even if it was really for the first time.

"How many bags do you have, sweet pea?"

A compulsion came over me to roll my eyes and slap at him playfully. He chuckled at me and I held up three fingers. After shaking his head he let me slide down. "You're worse than Hannah."

"A girl's got to live, don't she?" I cringed inwardly at my mangling of the English language. I hadn't been able to shake loose the country twang that came more than naturally to my new body.

"That she does. That she does."

The luggage area was being extended from beneath the bus, and I pointed out a trunk and two suitcases. While I went to pick up the suitcases, Jethro held out his hand. "Don't you go and hurt yourself, Ally Sue. I got this no problem."

Without any visible effort he tucked one suitcase under his left arm, the other in his left hand and then he bent to grab one of the large handles of the trunk, hoisting it up to his shoulder. Cripes, the man was strong! That trunk had to weight seventy or eighty pounds by itself.

"Uncle Jethro, let me take one of the suitcases at least."

His return look spoke to me like I was being silly. "This ain't nothing' sweet pea. Now go on. The truck's out front in the parking lot."

True to his word, he kept a leisurely pace the entire way. I ran ahead to the rust colored Ford F-250 longbed and popped the tailgate for him. Easy as he was setting down a case of expensive crystal, he put my trunk into the bed with the suitcases along side. All of this without breaking a sweat or even breathing hard.

"There, see? Your old Uncle ain't quite so old as you thought."

He really wasn't. Being that he was the younger of the two Baker's, with Ally's mother being in her late thirties before she died, he was barely pushing thirty. Thirty-two as of May, if Ally's memory was correct.

"I never thought you were old, Uncle Jethro."

After closing up the tailgate he grabbed me again for another hug and then bent down to kiss the top of my head. "We missed you, sweet pea. I can't believe you are back so quick."

Ally left home after Christmas, to start her new life in the big city. By the beginning of June she had her skirt up around her waist and her panties around her ankles, dead. "The city wasn't what it was supposed to be."

Jethro escorted me around to the passenger side and opened the door for me as he extended a hand to help me up into the oversized truck. It sucked so much being so short. I was right about the five-two estimate. Everything was so much bigger, taller, and unreachable now. I had to have help with almost anything that I'd tried to do. However being a drop-dead gorgeous blonde had its advantages at certain times. All it took was a look of frustration and helplessness and most men would stop whatever it was they were doing to assist me.

Once we exited the parking lot onto Magnolia Boulevard, main street if you will, Jethro got up to speed. Wiggins wasn't a one stoplight town, it was a two stoplight town. They were moving up in the world. I eyed the one and only twenty-first century store within thirty-five miles, Wal-Mart. In the same parking lot, a bowling alley looked to be opening up. Woo hoo… not.

"Maggie's still got your old position open at the diner if you want it."

Waitress. It was the whole reason that Ally left Wiggins. No opportunities. She didn't want to wind up pregnant and barefoot with the High School quarterback's child. Not that he was a bad guy, just a little possessive.

"I'll have to go by and say hi, but I've got other plans."

That earned an inquisitive glance in my direction. "Oh really?"

I nodded then pointed. "Stop at the theater for a sec."

Moments later, Jethro pulled into an angled parking space in the main part of town where Magnolia Boulevard was saddled with small rustic mom and pop stores, along with the local police station and city hall nearby.

Without waiting for him to come open my door, I hopped down from the truck, which by the way is a three foot drop if I didn't use the little steps under the door. I dug into the front pocket of the backpack and withdrew a keyring with about ten keys in all. Assuming the biggest one was for the front door, I walked up and slid it in place.

"Ally Sue Baker, what are you doin' with keys to the theater? Old man MacAfee will tan your hide when he finds out."

I tossed my hair to the side and smiled back at Jethro. "Don't worry none about him, Uncle Jethro. It's mine now. Well, mostly."

The town theater hadn't been closed for long, just since the previous summer. Fred 'old man' MacAfee had shut it down after his wife passed on of natural causes. He was too old to run it himself and didn't trust anyone to run it for him. So he closed the doors. It was an old two screen theater with a giant lobby that I thought was perfect for something else.

What Uncle Jethro didn't know was while Ally Sue Baker only had about ten grand in the bank after all was said and done with her parents estate, James McAllister was a semi-successful computer geek who played with online trading in his spare time.

Before heading back to Ally's home in rural Mississippi, I closed all of his investments and bank accounts, which in turn left me with a fairly decent nest-egg. It was enough to renovate the theater into a little business and leave enough left over for me to live on in the meantime, if I pinched my pennies.

"Yours?"

I nodded. Looking around, I saw a thin layer of dust on everything, but the place was mostly clean. Nothing that a little elbow grease wouldn't fix. "Fred MacAfee is letting me fix the place up for ten percent of the net profit."

"What do you know about runnin' a theater, Ally?"

I shook my head. "Absolutely nothing, but I know how to run a coffee shop and I know my way around computers. It's time for Wiggins to enter the twenty-first century, Uncle Jethro. I'm opening an internet café."

He stopped looking around the familiar theater and centered his gaze on me… before laughing. I raised a single thin eyebrow at him and sucked on my slight overbite in mild annoyance. "What's so funny?"

Jethro saw the look on my face and his laughing stuttered to a uncomfortable cough. "It's just… Ally Sue… I mean, you're eighteen years old."

Placing my hands on my hips, my lips pursed for a moment. "And?"

He cleared his throat, quite certain that he was going to be on the receiving end of a tongue lashing. "Uh…"

"I'll have you know that I'm not just a small town girl that can't do anything but waitress at the local diner waiting for her knight in dusty cowboy boots to sweep her off her feet."

Jethro took a step backward, and it wasn't until I saw that I was moving toward him with my finger pointed at his chest that I realized the absurdity of the situation. Like all of my ninety-eight pounds of femininity could do anything to him, in the slightest bit. "I've learned a lot and I'm gonna make this café the place to be, even if it's in Hicksville, USA."

He stopped backing away when my diatribe was finished. A small smile crept its way back to his face. "I see you haven't lost the fire in your belly. Your mom would have been proud as punch seein' you stand up to me."

That drained the ire out of my spine. "Sorry."

He shook his head. "Ain't nothin' to be sorry about. I forget sometimes about Baker women's gumpshin'. When they see somethin' they want, Lord help whoever stands in their way."

A compulsion pushed me forward into Jethro's arms and the safety they provided. Nothing in the world could stop that man from destroying anything that would even think about harming one of his.

Being James McAllister, I never felt or had the need for protection since I was ten years old and beat the crap out of Stewie Harris for trying to steal my bike. As Ally Baker, all I wanted was for his strong arms to hold me and for him to tell me everything was going to be alright. It was a powerful desire that humbled me.

"Can we go home now, Uncle Jethro?"

"Anything you want, sweet pea."

My nose wrinkled at the smell of cow manure. It was something that I never had to endure in the big city. Memories of Jethro saying, 'that's the smell of money' brought a smile to my face. Smelly money spends just as well as the clean stuff, I suppose. And people have to have their beef.

There was a large wooden placard above the gravel driveway proclaiming home to be the 'Diamond B Ranch' with sideways diamonds in place of the bubbles on the capital letter B.

"Hannah's makin' your favorite tonight."

It took me a second to figure out what Ally's favorite dinner was. Meatloaf with mashed potatoes, corn on the cob and hand made dinner rolls all layered in brown gravy. It was a wonder how she grew up looking as thin as she did. However, the thought of a true home-cooked meal made my stomach clench in mild excitement. I bounced a little in my seat with anticipation.

"There she is!" I yelled as I pointed. Jethro pulled up in front of the house and I nearly fell out of the truck from the compulsion that made me scream with happiness and run to Hannah's open arms.

It was a one story ranch house that was more than comfortable. The Baker's came from old cattle money. While they weren't as well off as some of those Texas land barons back in the old days, they weren't financially hurting by any means.

"Little Ally!" Hannah almost screeched as she grabbed me up into her arms for a hug. A second passed and she pulled away. "Let me look at you." A head to toe inspection proved that she could still smile and I passed muster. "I was so worried about you in the big city. Turn around."

I smiled and spun in place while she lifted the back of my shirt up to expose my trim waist. "Still as skinny as a reed, and no tattoos, thank the Lord. How about any of those things city girls put all over their bodies."

That confused me for a moment until I remembered the first thing Ally did when she arrived and settled in the city. I winced and raised the front of my shirt to expose the navel piercing. Hannah rolled her eyes and sighed. "Well at least it wasn't in your nose, I suppose. Girls these days."

I grinned at her and she slapped me on the butt. "Now get in there and wash up, Dinner's on the table."

"Yes, ma'am."

The aromas that permeated the house made my mouth water and my taste buds tingle. Before Jethro had even made it back to the dining room, I was sitting at the table staring at all of the goodies.

Hannah laughed at me. "You probably haven't seen a home cooked meal since you left have you?"

I shook my head. "Cooking for one usually means frozen pizza or sandwiches."

She rolled her eyes at me. "It's a wonder you didn't blimp out like Mary Sullivan. Baker genes, I guess. You Baker girls could always eat whatever you wanted."

"You're a Baker girl too, Aunt Hannah."

"Not by blood and that's what counts where that's concerned. Jethro! Get a move on. Dinner's gettin' cold."

The shuffling of his heavy boots announced the presence of Jethro along with the grin on his face. "Looks wonderful, honey."

Hannah smiled her thanks. She was always easy to please. After he sat, Jethro reached for the mashed potatoes and Hannah smacked his hand. He snatched it back. "Whoops. Sorry." He pulled back and interlaced his fingers under his chin.

Oh shit, I forgot too. I bowed my head and waited for Hannah to do her thing.

"Dear Lord, we want to thank you for bringing Ally Sue back home safely and watching over her while she was among those that might have brought her harm. Please bless this food so that it may nourish our bodies and allow us to live our lives in your name. Amen."

"Amen," Jethro and I mumbled.

Jethro looked over at Hannah for the go ahead. "Well, go on. I know you two have got to be hungry."

Before I had even plucked an ear of corn off the serving plate in front of me, the phone rang. Hannah looked at it with a scowl on her face. "Who could that be?"

She got up and answered. "Baker residence." After a moment her eyes flicked to me and her lips twisted to the side with an amused smirk. "Robbie Dawson, what are you doin' callin' here at five-thirty? You know that we sit down to dinner then." Another few seconds passed and she looked appeased, somewhat. "No, you can't talk to her. We're having dinner. You can talk to Ally afterward."

Memories of Robbie Dawson flashed through my head, which in turn made my face heat up at remembering what Ally and he did in the back of his dad's pick up the night before she left for the city. No, she didn't have sex with him, but it was darned close. And it wasn't for a lack of effort on his part. Not in the least. He was all hands that night, and maybe some lips. But Ally stood firm, even against the hormones and feelings she experienced at the time.

Hannah resumed her seat and served herself. "Not back in town five minutes and he's sniffin' around."

I giggled and she eyed me before pointing an ear of corn. "Don't think you are gonna jump back on that hobby horse young lady. Your little Robbie Dawson has been like a dog on a bone with all the girls in town."

"No thanks. Robbie and I were done six months ago." Not to mention that I was still unsure about my sexual orientation at the moment. It had only been six weeks since the attack, and I'm sorry, but dating hadn't been the first thing on my mind at the time.

A nod from Hannah and I had her approval. "Good girl."

The amount of dishes it took to prepare and serve dinner for three people was astounding. It took twenty minutes of Hannah and I washing and drying before everything was put in its place. Jethro went out to take care of a few things that pulling him away in the middle of the afternoon to pick me up had interfered with.

Right when I hung up the semi-damp apron on its hook, I heard the electronic sound of the first line of Dixie being played in the front yard. Apparently Robbie still hadn't gotten rid of that little piece of his personality installed in his dad's truck.

Hannah gave me the wary eye and I grinned back. "Don't worry. We're through. Really. I'll go let him down easy."

"Uh-huh."

"Is the loft in the barn still the same?"

She cocked her hip to the side and placed her fist under her belt. "You mean the one where you and Robbie used to spend hours making out? That loft?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Oh, it's still there. Try not to leave any hay in your hair this time."

On the way out, a compulsion made me stop and fluff my hair up. Oh brother. My lipstick had worn away from dinner, but since I wasn't trying to impress Ally's former boyfriend, I wasn't the least bit worried.

I opened the front door right when Robbie was about to knock on the screen door in-between. "Hey baby."

I arched an eyebrow. Baby? "Hey Robbie."

When I stepped out onto the porch he looked like he was about to burst from hormone overload. "Do you want to go to the loft and… talk?"

That was their codeword for Robbie forcing his tongue as far down Ally's throat as humanly possible. "Yeah, we need to talk."

My lack of dramatic pause hadn't made it through to his brain as of yet. I was entirely truthful when I said it would only be a talk and not a oral examination or even a hands-on breast cancer screening even. I saw two possibilities at hand. One: Robbie still hadn't gotten lucky with any of the girls of Wiggins. In which case that meant he was going to be attacking me the second I sat down on the couch, or Two: he'd been really lucky with the girls of Wiggins and there was a strong possibility that if I bowed to his desires I would contract a funky venereal disease. Neither of those scenarios were acceptable at the moment and I was almost dreading leaving my Taser in my purse. A couple of zaps from that puppy, in the proper place, would take care of any rising problems, if you get my meaning. Maybe the girls of Wiggins would welcome my solution.

I kid. Robbie is, or was a pretty nice guy. He knew no meant no, at least as of Christmas he did. He always brought flowers on our dates… Ally's dates with him rather. If you called daisies flowers; I called them weeds. I was always an exotic flower type person, roses in a pinch.

"How was the city? I knew you'd be back."

What the hell kind of welcoming was that? "It was fine. I learned a lot."

"Six months? How much could you have learned?"

He was halfway up the stairs to the loft when I stopped. He heard my bootfalls halt and turned around. "Well, I learned how to put my boot up someone's ass if he was rude." I waggled the pointed toe from my right boot at him. "See, it's all tapered for easy insertion and everything."

His eyes widened a little at my angered tone. "Whoa baby. What's with the attitude? Why don't you come up here and show me how much you missed me."

My eyebrows bunched in confusion, then I looked right and left. "Did someone come over to your house and substitute you for an extra from Jersey Shore?"

"What?"

I backed down the stairs. There was no way I was going up there now. "I didn't know it was possible to become a totally different person in just six months, Robbie."

"I go by Rob now."

"Uh-huh."

He came back down the stairs with his hands wide, trying unsuccessfully to make me feel at ease. "I'm the same guy, baby. Just a little older and wiser."

Well that answered my question about whether or not he had been laid. Obviously he had and now he thought he was god's gift.

"Yeah, well, same-ole-Robbie. When I left at Christmas it was the end of us, so why don't take your new attitude, your 'baby's' and your hormones off the property."

Rob paused at the bottom of the stairs with a hurt look on his face that used to melt Ally's heart. Mine was still kind of cold at the moment, so it didn't have the effect that he was expecting. "Aww, baby, don't be like that. Come to daddy and let me make you feel better."

That's when I heard the sound of metal scraping against metal with a long even stroke followed by the slow heavy baritone of Uncle Jethro's voice. "I'd advise taking the young lady's advice there, Rob. That is if you'd like to father a child some day." Jethro stood about ten feet away holding a curved, single handed sickle and a sharpening stone casually as could be. "'Course if you don't, well then I could probably help you out there too." That was followed by another long scrape of the sharpening stone again the blade. Jethro was just plain evil when it came to his girls. All Children of the Corn and everything.

"Uh… yes, sir. I mean no, sir. I don't need any help. I'll just go." Robbie nodded at me and then left with as much of his manhood still intact as was humanly possible.

When I heard the spinning of his dad's truck in the drive I turned back to Jethro. "Thank you, but I could have handled it on my own." Lies, all lies!

He gave the sickle another swipe with the stone. "Never thought you couldn't, sweet pea. I just thought this here blade needed a little sharpening."

With a knowing smirk I turned around and headed toward the house, but stopped at the entrance of the barn. "Uncle Jethro?"

"Yeah, sweet pea?"

"Could you maybe give me a refresher with the M&P tomorrow?"

Another long scrape followed. "Anything you want, sweet pea. You know that."

Another compulsion urge swept through me, but this time I didn't feel the need to fight it in the least. "I love you."

"I love you too, honey. Now get yourself in side and unpack."

"Yes, sir."

TBC...

Pic Credit: Marty McBride