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Chapter 25 :

The First Belle

Clairibelle entered the shop around noon, which was quite late for her. She was usually asleep by now if possible, but her sensitive ears sometimes made that difficult depending on what was going on around the farm. She'd laid in bed for a while, listening to the sounds around her for anything interesting before settling on this one. The sound of the old AM radio playing a list of sad country songs, a sure sign that Annabelle was working on the fifty four Ford truck.

It was a chance to speak to her alone, and that was something Clairibelle had been waiting for.

Annabelle took note of her entrance, and stood back from the motor of the old girl that she had been polishing up. It didn't require much maintenance now that she had it where she wanted it, but she felt it always deserved love, "Something I can do for you, Darlin'?"

CB moved toward her, silent enough to be curious. She stopped a few feet away, considering how she wanted to phrase what she wanted to say. She'd had so much time to think about it and still didn't know the best way to proceed, so she decided to just say what she meant.

"What happened when you Changed?"

Annabelle stood watching her, wiping her fingers clean with a shop rag, "What's brought this on, CB? Something in particular?"

The reply was touched with sadness, "I was lonely. No one had the time or energy to put up with my... Condition. Now I think you may have known what that means."

She looked back at Clairibelle for a few seconds, then looked away as a smile came to her lips, "You've been talking to Ranger. He is my weakness, isn't he?"

CB nodded back at her, "He said you and I were more alike than you wanted to admit. If that's true... I'd really like to know."

Annabelle moved over to the shop counter slowly, setting the rag she'd been using on top of it and then pausing to collect her thoughts.

"I wasn't entirely alone." She finally said, "I had the company of two fine women."

CB was filled with a rush of disappointment at that thought. Maybe their situations weren't so similar after all, "I was under the impression that Sophie and Elsie didn't have much time to spend with you either."

"Oh, not them, sugar." Annabelle turned to look at her, one hand still resting on the counter. The other made a motion toward the old truck, "You'e lookin' at the first one, and the second..."

Almost as if on cue the quiet country song that had been droning out of the radio ended, and a sweet sing song lady took its place. Annabelle reached over to turn it up, a sad smile crossing her face as she did so.

"And that was yet another song about blue jeans and pickup trucks, y'all. Big surprise there. What was your favorite part? Girls in cut-off jeans? Drinkin' Fireball on the beach? Or was it just the general sense of mediocrity that has overwhelmed country music today?" The voice was far too happy for the tone, but it was her signature, "Well don't you all worry now, Miss Dixie is here, and she's locked in and ready to deliver you from this cookie cutter nonsense with some real country. Music with a soul full of hurt and a story to tell. So what say we cleanse that palate with a classic. This is Hank Williams... And he knows Your Cheatin' Heart, sugar."

The song started to play, but just as quickly Annabelle switched the radio off. Clairibelle had heard it playing from outside countless times before, but she had never really listened to it, and suddenly a lot of things started to make sense. Especially the mysterious southern drawl that no one else on the farm shared with her.

"I knew enough words to talk, and I could read a little. I learned how to truly have a conversation thanks to Miss Dixie." Annabelle turned away from the counter again to move away from it, "I practiced right here."

She stopped at the old Ford, letting her hands rest on the hood with an affectionate smile...

"Talking to her."

A jump back to years earlier, and Annabelle was hard at work. Sophie and Elsie were always busy with the unchanged cattle, and even more so now that Daisy had started her transformation. She was already pregnant, and the pair were clearly worried. Especially after having lost Elsie's own son in just the same situation.

That was everyone she knew in the world. Two women struggling to keep things together, one that was in the middle of changing, and a handful of cows that still had no idea what was about to happen to them.

Annabelle didn't know it yet, but she was about to meet one more.

She had her head buried deep in the engine of the old Ford, which was easy enough now that she had removed so many of its components. She learned quickly, like most changed did, and she had found the shop manual for Fords of that era, along with several books on automotive maintenance and repair to work from. Everything she had removed was lined up across the long counter on the wall, polished clean and carefully examined for serviceability.

If there was ever anything Annabelle never lacked for it was confidence, but it always came with a willingness to learn and to work hard enough to justify her faith in herself. She'd only been at it a few weeks now, but she knew what she was doing. She'd found the old girl sitting alone in the shop, sitting silent and dusty like a puzzle waiting to be solved by a soul that needed exactly that.

She discovered the radio soon after, still tuned to the late Douglas Hoyt's preferred radio station, just as it had been for decades. Through it she discovered a DJ that called herself Miss Dixie, and that's who was on the air now following the song that Annabelle didn't really understand, but would one day call her favorite.

"That was the legend herself, Miss Tammy Wynette with Stand By Your Man." The drawl practically dripped off the music of Dixie's tone. For all her trying to emulate it, Annabelle actually had to learn to tone it down a bit in practice, "Now I know that song ain't exactly as popular as it used to be, but I do have a soft spot in my heart for it. It ain't about standin' next to the first man, or just any man... It's about stayin' by your man, and that's a very important distinction. A good woman shouldn't commit unless she's willing to follow through, so I'd say there still some ring of truth to old Tammy's lyrics. And she would know, don't you think? She was married five times."

There was a short pause and a muffled laugh from some other people in the station around her, but then she spoke again, "Well, looks like we're going to have to take a short break. Zeke over in the booth needs to hit a few buttons and play some ads so he and I can get paid. Don't you worry, darlin', Miss Dixie will be right back before you know it."

Annabelle smiled to herself as the commercials started to play, mulling over a snippet of the words in her head. She reached up to turn the volume down on the radio to try it out.

"Don't you worry, darlin'." She said to herself, then again with different inflection and emphasis, "Don't you worry, darlin... Don't you worry, darlin!"

She liked that. This was how she had learned so much about how to speak. She listened, she practiced, and then she applied it.

"Well now I think I see why your eyes won't light up, sugar." She said, leaning up out of the hood a bit to speak directly to the old truck, "Looks like you must of had some vermin nesting up in here at some point. They went and nibbled up the wiring... But don't you worry, darlin', it ain't nothing I can't handle."

She moved away from the hood, making her way over to the long counter to look over the wiring diagram she had it open to. Thankfully it was fairly simple, being an older vehicle. This was actually one of the first issues she had identified for repair, but that wasn't the point. She just needed to use the phrase in a sentence, and this was how she did that.

She stood regarding the diagram for a bit longer, then startled and turned as one of the two garage doors started to open up on its own. She didn't even know they did that, but soon she heard another truck drawing near. All she could do was stand and watch in confusion as Henry pulled into the garage, and his reaction wasn't much different as he stared right back at her.

Once he had stopped and hopped out, he just looked around the garage in stunned silence. His dad's old truck was in pieces scattered about the counter top. He'd been on the verge of falling asleep at the wheel for the last couple hours, but he was awake now.

Annabelle waited, but seeing as he didn't seem able to focus a thought decided to speak first instead. Cheerfully, but still cautious, "Well hello, sugar. What brings you to Hoyt's farm?"

"What brings me to..." He looked back at her again, then shook his head to move over to the fifty four, both hands on the grill as he leaned in to have a look, "What the hell are you doing to my truck?"

"Your truck?" She had never even thought about it until now. She Changed here, and here had a garage with a truck in it. Who owned it never seemed like a matter of debate. It belonged to the farm, "Exactly who are you, sir?"

"I'm Hoyt! Henry Hoyt! This farm is... Hoyt's..." He didn't bother looking up, running one hand over the ancient y-block engine curiously. He'd never seen it so clean before, but that wasn't what he found most curious, "Did you... You replaced the head gaskets?"

"Well, it needed doin', and it was one of the only parts I had available." She folded her arms across her chest, considering his identity. She had no frame of reference to understand what it meant.

"It's not that simple." He said, carefully feeling around with his fingers to check the seal, "Six of the bolts are a quarter inch shorter than the others. If they get mixed up..."

"I know that. I'm following the manual, not just foolishly stabbing around in there." She snorted a bit at the thought. A good woman shouldn't commit unless she's willing to follow through, after all, "Henry Hoyt, huh? Why do you have two names?"

"Why do I... What?" He looked up, blinking back at her.

In his current state of poor nutrition and lack of sleep he really couldn't think of how to answer that. For a moment he couldn't argue with her logic enough to remember why he even needed two names. He shook his head as he stood back up, trying to clear the fog enough to make sense of the situation.

"You really did all this?" He moved over to the counter to examine all the parts she had removed, all cleaned up and laid out neatly, "Jesus, Annabelle... I was only gone a few weeks."

"You know me?" That caused her to cock her head to the side a bit. Seeing him closer now caused a faint memory to stir, though really little more than a sense of familiarity with the man next to her, "Wait... You were here before, weren't you?"

"Yes!" He said, clearly giving in to exasperation, "I live here! I've lived here my whole..."

"I thought I heard you pull in." Sophie's voice interrupted them as she came in through the open garage door, "Welcome back, boss."

"Sophie..." It relieved him to hear her voice, as well as her tone. He'd left rather abruptly, and he wasn't sure how upset they would be with his lack of an explanation as to why. That fear was temporarily set aside as she moved up next to him to put an arm around his shoulder, which he nearly buckled under the weight of, "It's good to be home."

"I trust you did whatever it was you intended to." She asked, pulling back once the friendly gesture was done. She hadn't been in the garage in months, and now she was looking around at the situation curiously, "And what in God's name have you done to Henry's truck, Annabelle?"

Henry reached up to rub his eyes, "That's what I said..."

"So she really is yours. I suppose I owe you an apology then. I didn't know." She sighed, moving over to put her hand on the side of the truck and look down at how much progress she'd made, "I only intended to fix her up, but I'll leave her be if that's what you want."

Henry was a lot of things, and one of those things was a soft sell for a sad woman. The way she said it, he could tell it darn near broke her heart to think of giving up on the task.

"Look, I didn't mean it like that." He said, settling his hands on his hips and looking around at her handiwork once more, "It's just... This truck belonged to my father. It means a lot to me."

"For what it's worth, Mr. Hoyt..." She said quietly, "She means a lot to me too."

Henry hated to admit it, but he was actually pretty impressed. He doubted he would have done as thorough a job as she had to this stage, much less all at once. He sighed, and considered his options, "If you have any questions, you come ask for my help. If you run into any problems, I want to know about it. But other than that... I suppose..."

She turned to look at him, a glimmer of hope returned, "Please, Mr. Hoyt? I... Ain't got much else."

Again. A soft sell for a sad woman...

"Just be careful." He smiled briefly despite his concerns, then started towards the garage door, motioning for Sophie to follow. They had a lot to discuss, "And call me Henry, please."

"Thank you, Henry." She was smiling brightly now, but there was just one more thing she wanted to say...

"Don't you worry, darlin'... She's in good hands."

"You've got this, girl. I know you do."

Annabelle was sitting behind the wheel, and feeling nervous. She wasn't trying to encourage herself though. She'd tried to get the Ford to fire up several times over the last couple days, but it turns out not everything she needed to know was in the books she had. No one ever told her gas could go bad for instance, not to mention the figurative and literal shock she received not knowing the proper way to connect a new battery. She had the complicated stuff down, but there were a lot of little things those books just assumed everyone knew already.

It had shaken her confidence a bit, but not so much as hearing the old girl try and refuse to turn over. She didn't want to admit that she might not know as much about what she was doing as she thought, but she'd worked through all those other issues. She understood now the mistakes she had made and there was only one way to find out if there were any more.

She had shot a liberal amount of starter fluid into the carburetor, took a deep breath, and turned the key.

The old truck wheezed hard, like the first breath of a drowning man after being pulled ashore. Then it grumbled, sputtering and struggling but not quite there.

"Come on!" Annabelle shouted, giving her a little gas, "You've got this!"

The engine roared to life for the first time in decades, violently and loud. It was still coughing as it fought to catch its breath, it's parts starting to turn more freely as the fresh fluids it now contained were spread through it's body to get them lubricated.

Annabelle was practically bouncing in the seat, "Yes! Sing for me! Sing for me, girl!"

It barely took any time at all, but it was as if a a sense of peace suddenly came over them both. The roar that had announced it's rebirth had worked itself out, and as Annabelle backed off the gas it just seemed to... Hum.

Calm. Alive.

She got out of the cab, coming around to the front of the truck to just look at it. There were tears in her eyes, and a feeling of pride unlike anything she ever could have imagined. The only thing she had even tried to accomplish since her change, and a task so difficult that everyone on the farm had their doubts...

But she had done it.

"Well done, Annabelle."

She turned to find Henry standing in the doorway, leaning on it casually with a wide grin on his face. She smiled back at him, trying not to break down and cry.

"Do me a favor though..." He moved over to the wall, punching the button to raise one of the garage doors up, "Exhaust fumes can kill you. Make sure you have good ventilation before you run her."

She wiped the tears from her eyes, and started to laugh, "I didn't know that."

"It's alright. You do now." Henry moved over to her side and the pair turned to watch the truck, idling quietly before them.

"I'm proud of you."

The words caught her by surprise, and she turned to regard him curiously. They had gotten along well enough since his return, but they were both too busy to really spend much time together. It seemed odd for him to say something like that to her now, and yet...

She didn't know she needed his approval. Not until she had it. It made her feel every bit as good as seeing all her hard work pay off.

"Well then. You should get some rest." Henry reached up one hand to clap her on the shoulder, "Looks like I'm teaching you how to drive tomorrow."

Now it had been more than six months from the time she had begun tearing the Fifty Four apart until the old girl gripped pavement once more, but she did so with dignity. Henry had only ever heard her eight cylinders growl like a lion, but she purred like a kitten now that Annabelle was done with her. He had to wonder if it had ever run as well as it did now, even as his father was driving it right off the lot.

It had taken time. Henry had returned to the farm more broke than the truck after buying out his sister's half of the farm. He had several things to sell off to keep them going, some of which were easier than others. Some of them just posed difficulties like finding a buyer. Others were emotionally hard to let go of. He did what he had to do though, for those that lived on.

Parts for the truck weren't a priority, but eventually they became a luxury the farm could afford. Elsie and Daisy had begun selling their milk, and it was surprisingly profitable.

Annabelle followed Henry into town at a respectable distance. She was confident enough in her driving ability by now, but she didn't know the way to where he was leading her. She was excited though. There was only one thing left that needed doing to restore the old girl to glory, and it was finally going to get done.

She needed a new coat of paint, and then her rebirth would be complete.

They pulled into the lot next to the shop around nine in the morning, parked a couple of spaces apart, and got out to meet the men that were waiting for them. He couldn't help but notice the way they were looking at Annabelle though, and that worried him.

"Don." Henry said, offing a hand to the one clearly in charge as he approached, "It's been a long time."

"Sure has, Henry." He spent another few second regarding the changed woman, then over at the truck, "Haven't seen that old thing since we were in high school. Sounds like she's running good, but I never thought you were going to get around to fixing her."

"I never did." Henry said with a smile, motioning with his head towards the woman behind him, "Turns out I've got a natural born mechanic on my hands. Annabelle did almost all of the restoration herself."

"That right?" Came the reply. He was clearly not comfortable with this, but he decided to let it drop, "You sure you want to go with a stock color? I could show you some of Linda's airbrush work."

Henry waved him off with a chuckle, "No, thank you. I think she'll impress well enough without flaming skulls on the hood. She was Sea Haze Green when she came off the lot, and we both agreed that's how she should stay."

"Alright then." Don turned to the younger man still standing back by the shop, "Go start the prep work, Billy. I'll bring her in shortly."

"Yeah, we need to talk." Came the reply. Billy looked to be nothing short of seething over the whole situation, and it didn't take a lot to figure out why.

Don went over to him, taking him by the arm to drag him a little further away so the pair could start their discussion. It was animated, but hidden in whispers as the pair started arguing.

"I don't think he likes me, Henry." Annabelle folded her arms, almost defiantly so.

"I think you may be right about that." Henry said with a sigh. He had feared something like this might happen, "Don is an old friend though. I've always tried to support my friends, but if this doesn't work out we'll find somewhere else."

She nodded, and was about to say something if not for the fact that the argument had risen far above whispers now. Billy was outright raging, and Don wasn't about to back down.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Don! He's even letting that thing drive, and you're not going to say anything about it?"

"Don't you talk to me that way, you little shit! You only work here because I married your mother's sister, or I'd have fired you years ago!" Don shouted back, sticking his finger in the younger man's chest, "Go home! Cool off! I'll call Max in to help me do the job!"

"Fine!" Billy threw his gloves to the ground, stomping off toward his own car, "Go ahead and work for an abomination! See where that sits with God! I want no part of it!"

They all watched him go, and eventually Don made his way back toward his old friend, "I'm sorry about that, Henry. He's hard enough to work with on a good day."

Henry nodded slowly, but he couldn't help but think maybe the two men's opinions weren't so far apart, "Appreciate that, but I'm not sure it's me you should be apologizing to."

Don regarded the woman once more, standing there confidently with her arms still crossed as she looked back at him. He said nothing to her though, before turning back to Henry, "There's been... Talk. About the farm and all, and about you. I don't want to believe it, but..."

"There's always talk in a small town, but you and I have known each other for almost four decades." Henry said, clearly becoming annoyed, "Whatever they're saying... You know it isn't true, and I shouldn't have to tell you that."

Don looked away nervously, "Yeah, but they say you're milkin' them, Henry. There's something wrong about that, don't you think? I mean... There's something wrong with them."

"That milk is paying for this paint job." Henry sighed and shook his head, then turned to start walking away, "I know you need the money, so I came to you first, but I won't stand here while you insult her to her face like she can't even understand. Lets go, Annabelle."

There was a pause...

"Henry... Wait."

He stopped to look at her and found her holding her ground. She nodded at him once, then turned back to Don once more, "Will you do the job?"

He was quiet for a few seconds, still not wanting to speak to her directly as he nodded back.

"You don't have to like me." She held out her hand to him to offer him the keys, "Just don't take it out on her."

Don reached out his hand, and she let the keys drop into it before turning to walk away, "You have a good day now, sugar."

The first half of the trip home was silent. Henry cooled down a bit as time went on though, and eventually Annabelle decided it was alright for them to speak.

"You don't have to stand up for me." She said, one arm out the window, "I'm not so delicate."

"No one said I had to." Came the reply, "But what kind of man would I be if I didn't try?"

She smiled. It was a good answer.

"Thank you, Henry."

She found herself driving down the road at dusk a few weeks later, with just one more thing she wanted to do. Two fine ladies had kept her company after her Change, and she wanted for them to meet. For all her confidence working on the truck though, this was not so simple for her. She had changed her mind about making this drive probably a dozen times now, and even still feared she might chicken out and head back. In the couple of hours she'd been on the road now she had nearly done so once or twice, but she was so close to the station now that it seemed too late.

She saw the broadcast tower first. It was tall enough for the flatlands and fields out this way, but in fact it couldn't broadcast much farther than the Henry's radio. Beyond that the lands were Rosie's domain, hills and rocks that started to break up the signal.

She pulled into the lot carefully, feeling like an intruder. There was only one other car present, which she found rather odd. She knew there were always at least two people in the station at all times, but she had for some reason expected it to be bigger. It was barely the size of the garage she had come to call home, and only about half as tall.

There was a woman right outside the main door sitting on a wooden chair and smoking a cigarette. She was a heavy woman, maybe a little older than Henry with a helmet of blonde hair that wouldn't have been phased by anything less than hurricane force winds.

Annabelle parked the truck, and hopped out nervously. She took a few steps toward the woman, wondering why she hadn't been trying to think of something to say these last hours, but maybe this person could help with that. Maybe she could get her to introduce her to the woman that had meant to much to her since she Changed.

"Well now..." The woman spoke, still staring off into space in a way that Annabelle didn't understand, "Don't hear a machine that can purr like that much anymore. What are you drivin' there, darlin'?"

Annabelle just froze for a moment. It was her.

Miss Dixie.

Eventually she snapped herself back to reality, "It's... A Fifty Four Ford. I restored it myself."

"Oh my. I don't get many women coming to see me, and a mechanic to boot?" Miss Dixie smiled, and it was as genuine and inviting a smile as she had ever seen, "Well, I'm guessing you know who I am, so go on and introduce yourself, girl."

Annabelle had finally pieced something together. Her eyes, unfocused and distant... Miss Dixie was blind.

"I'm Annabelle, Ma'am. I wanted... Needed to meet you, if that's alright."

"Is that right? Well looks like you have." Dixie chuckled cheerfully, "It's a pleasure, Annabelle. Was there something in particular you wanted to say?"

"I suppose there ought to be, but I'm not sure I thought this far ahead." She shuffled her feet nervously, "I just wanted to say thank you, I suppose. I've been listening to you... Well, my whole life really. You've taught me so much about the woman I want to be, and I... I just..."

Miss Dixie chuckled again, "That's sweet of you, sugar. Truly it is, but I sure do hope you have more than just little old me to keep you honest."

Annabelle thought about that, and that thought turned to Henry, "Maybe one more, but..."

She paused, and despite herself the words came anyway.

"I don't walk like a girl does. I don't like the things they like. I don't dress like one, and I don't want to. You taught me that I can still be a woman just the same. That I can have dignity and respect, and..."

"Oh, darlin'..." The older woman stood slowly, her cigarette finished and the butt tossed in a can nearby, "There ain't nothin' wrong with being a strong woman, no matter how you dress or walk or anything else that might make you different. What matters is what's in your heart."

Annabelle smiled, a little tear forming in each eye. She adored this woman, even not knowing she would seem so frail to look at. She was strong where it mattered.

"I didn't have a... A mother." She said finally, "I know it's a bit silly, but I've kind of come to think of you as the next best thing. Miss Dixie, thank you so much."

"Well, you're welcome. I like you, sugar." She held up a hand to offer it to Annabelle, palm down to request her assistance, "Help me back inside. We can talk more after the show."

Annabelle took a couple steps forward, her heart surging with joy as she reached out to take Miss Dixie's hand...

No sooner had they touched, then the older woman recoiled away in fear. The feel of Changed woman's hand on her own caused her to stumble backwards, nearly falling over as she did so.

"What are you?"

Annabelle's breath caught in her throat. The words had been spit at her, and it caused a pit to form in her stomach, "I'm... Changed, ma'am."

A sneer came to her face, and she started speaking quickly, "And what are you, then? What sort of animal... What sort of abomination just about fooled me into letting her into my station?"

"I'm from Hoyt's farm. I used to be a cow, but... I'm not anymore." Annabelle took a step backward, "I never meant to... Fool you... I just..."

"Liar! You are the work of evil, woman! You are the consequence of sin!"

Annabelle just stared back at her, mouth agape, "Please... Don't say these things."

"Stay away from me!" She shouted, feeling along the wall until she found the door to open it and hurry inside, "Never come here again!"

The door slammed shut, leaving her alone in the lot. She turned away and walked back to the truck in a daze, climbing back into the cab slowly. She lay her head against the wheel...

And she wept.

The next night Henry went looking for her. It wasn't a long search. He knew right where she would probably be. He came in through the side door of the shop, looking around expectantly. He didn't see her at first though. Not until he noticed the door of the old fifty four open, and came around to find her sitting half inside it on the floor-boards with her feet on the ground outside. She was leaning forward, with one elbow on her knee, looking exactly like a woman as crushed as she truly was by the events of the evening before.

"Missed you at dinner." Henry said, folding his arms as he drew near, "Muffin helped tonight. It was... Uh... She means well."

Annabelle smiled a little at that. Their latest Change was nothing if not enthusiastic, but it would be some time yet before she proved her talents in the kitchen.

"Sorry, Henry. Not much of an appetite right now."

He regarded her a bit longer. Her accent had faded. Not completely, as it had become too much a part of her for that, but enough to be obvious. Enough to make him realize that she had the radio off, right when her favorite show would have been on.

"Want to talk about it?" He finally said, moving to lean against the newer truck across from her.

She sighed deeply, and stayed silent enough that he almost considered letting it go. Eventually she relented though, "I went down to the station last night. I just wanted to meet her."

Henry let his head tilt back a bit, realizing exactly what she meant by that. He'd seen more than enough people have bad reactions to the Changed to know exactly how that could go. He didn't really need details, "I'm sorry, Annabelle."

"It's stupid, really. I remember she once said you should never meet your heroes. Let them be perfect in your head and in your heart. You don't want to see them be mortal." She sighed again, letting her eyes close, "I feel like a fool, Henry."

He let a silence sit for a moment, considering how to respond, "Well, answer me this. All the things you've learned from her up until now... About respect, about acting with dignity, about being a better woman..."

He waited for her to look up at him, then finished the question.

"Was she wrong?"

Annabelle chewed on that for a long moment, then shook her head, "I suppose not."

"You didn't do anything to be ashamed of, Annabelle." He said with a shrug, leaning back off the truck now, "You're a good woman. She would have been fortunate to know you."

It brought a sad smile to her lips, but it helped her to hear it just the same.

"I was... Lonely, you know. Elsie and Sophie were busy all the time. I didn't even know you. She and this truck... They were my only company. My only friends." She couldn't stifle a quick sniffle, looking away from him as if she was ashamed of it, "What do I do now?"

Henry smiled, "Forgive her."

It wasn't the answer she expected, and she looked back at him again.

"If she's responsible in some way for the woman you've become, then there is no shame in being grateful." He motioned with his head toward the radio, "I say you keep listening. You may hear things differently now, but... There might be a lot to learn from that too."

Her eyes dropped as she thought about that, but he didn't need for her to reply. He moved over to run his hand along the hood of his father's old truck instead.

"I don't know how many times I rode in this old girl with my dad. Too many to count." He said, smiling affectionately, "He taught me to drive in this truck. Taught me how to keep it running. Hell, I had my first kiss right there on the bench seat."

She straightened up a bit to look at him through the window of the door, finding him smiling right back.

"Jenny Mosbey." He said with a chuckle, "Prettiest girl I thought I'd ever meet."

It wasn't long before she couldn't help but smile herself. If there was one thing they had in common, it was the love of this truck. She stood as he moved around to the front end, turning to hit the latch that would pop the hood for him so he could open it up. All he could do was shake his head at the sight of it as she came around to join him.

"I was so excited when he gave her to me. I had so many plans." He folded his arms again as he just took it in. In all his life, the old girl had never been so pristine as she was now. No grime. No corrosion. Just polished metal and chrome, shining proudly back at him, "I just... Never had the time. Now I guess I never will."

She looked over curiously as he reached over to give her a friendly clap on the back and then turned to walk away.

"She's all yours now." He said, making his way to the door out of the shop, "Treat her right."

She stared back at him in disbelief for a moment, "Henry... Are you sure?"

"You've earned it." He said, opening the door to leave, "Good night, Annabelle."

Just as he was stepping outside she called to him one last time. The life back in her voice. The drawl alive and well, as much a part of her as ever.

"You have a good night too, sugar."

He turned once more, finding her smiling back at him. He returned it, and gave her a single nod. Then he disappeared into the darkness to make his way home.

It had been more than an hour since Annabelle started the tale, and now she and CB were sitting casually on the tailgate of the old Ford. Clairibelle hadn't said a word the entire time. She just wanted to listen.

"It's funny... All that about not meeting your heroes? She was wrong about that one." Annabelle said after a long silence, a distant smile coming over her, "Turns out some heroes were with you the whole time."

Clairibelle mirrored her smile, "Henry."

"I believe that's what he was trying to tell me, you know." She said, looking over at her fellow Belle, "About his hero. It wasn't about how much this truck meant to him. It was about his father, passing on a piece of their lives together into his care."

"And him passing it on to you." Clairibelle shook her head, letting out a single chuckle, "He seems like such a simple man sometimes, but he has a way of telling you things without saying them outright."

Annabelle smiled, remembering the words Henry had once said to her that last night she came back from seeing Ranger at the Kitty before everything had gone mad, "He never told me what to do... But he always made sure I knew what the right thing was. He let me decide for myself if the right thing was worth doing."

CB looked at her curiously, so Annabelle finished the thought, "It was one of the only times I've ever heard him talk about his father, but I reckon the way he said it made it stick."

Clairibelle looked away, lost in thought for a moment, "I envy you, Annabelle. I wish I could have had that with someone."

A silence fell again. One which didn't need to be filled, but which the elder Belle felt required something from her that she'd been chewing on for a long time.

"For all my tryin' to be a better woman, CB..." She said with a sigh, "What good did it do you? I know what it feels like to be rejected, and I still did it to you anyway."

CB shrugged one shoulder, "It's alright. We're past that now."

"I'm not." The words made Clairibelle look back at her again, and the pair met gazes. "I've spent a lot of time recently trying to figure out where everything went wrong, and I think I know now what I missed at the time."

A look of sadness came to Clairibelle's face, but she said nothing. She wanted to hear it. She wanted to know if the woman she could finally call a friend really did understand her at last.

Annabelle smiled reasuringly, and it helped.

"You were in love with me."

Clairibelle smiled back, letting her eyes drop in a manner that was almost shy. It was such an odd sight from her. Childlike and embarrassed, all from a woman who was shameless in her love of sex and passion.

"Yes." She said quietly, finally feeling free to express herself, "The others... They hadn't discovered our kind's sexuality yet. Not like me. Not like... You."

Annabelle paused briefly, "You knew..."

"I used to stay up late waiting." CB went on, wiping an errant tear from one eye, "Once everyone else had gone to sleep, I would hear you. I could hear your breath come quicker, and your heart beat faster... I'd wait, so I could do it with you. You never knew, but I... I..."

"Clairibelle..." There was a touch of concern now in Annabelle's voice.

"Imagine what it must be like for humans. Imagine having decades to learn how to behave, and to figure out who they are." Clairibelle sniffled sadly, "We Changed in to this world fully grown and knowing nothing. How could it lead to anything but confusion and hurt?"

CB sighed and continued, "As far as I knew, you and I were the only two souls on earth that knew what sex was, but every time I tried to get close to you..."

"I was so frustrated with you. I couldn't figure out why you started focusing on me more than the others. You tried climbing into my bed. Eventually it just got easier to shut you out completely." Annabelle took a deep breath, then finished, "But that doesn't excuse how I treated you all these years later."

"It doesn't excuse how I acted, either." Clairibelle hopped down off the tailgate and then turned to face her, "Do you think we could just start over? Forgive each other like it never happened?"

"I'm not sure it's that easy, but I'd like to try." Annabelle said, "Where would we even begin?"

CB looked her over for a moment, then lifted on arm to offer it to her with her hand outstretched, "How about... With respect?"

Annabelle looked at the offering for a moment, then she smiled and hopped down out of the truck as well, reaching out to clasp the younger Belle's hand in a firm handshake. It was more than a token of affection. They could have hugged and parted ways, but it wouldn't have meant as much.

They'd grown beyond who they once were, and beyond the ways they had impacted each other's lives. This was the start of something new, and it was something they were both ready for.

"Respect then." Annabelle smiled back at her, "I can get behind that."

Clairibelle smiled back. There was one thing she had always wanted to say, and she decided to finally say it. A thought that had come back to her the day the pair had become friends, but which she hadn't had the courage to voice...

"The Belles ring together."

Annabelle's face scrunched up a bit, "What? Where did that come from?"

"I know it's silly." CB chuckled a little, "But I've always wanted it to be true."

They let the handshake drop, and stood there looking at each other for a few moments as Annabelle chewed on that thought, "The Belles ring together, huh? You know what, darlin'?"

"I like it."