One year earlier...

I drove up to the farm at about 7:15 in the morning. It was already about 80 degrees outside, telling me that it was gonna be another hot one. I got out of my old beat up Chevy pickup and slammed the door. I was late. Not like I made it a habit. In fact, I made it a point to be on time on a count of the fact that Chet always gave the worst chores to whoever got there last. I had just lost my place the night before. My landlord and I had a little disagreement on whether or not I paid my rent. He had won the argument by changing my locks and sticking an eviction notice on my door. I jogged up to the house, put my hand on the screen door, and collected myself. That's when Chet himself opened the front door. The big man stood in the door frame, big old smile on his face.

“Mornin' Jack,” he greeted, his smile unwavering.

“Mornin' boss,” I replied.

“You're late.”

“Yeah...” I started to rub the back of my neck and squinted up at him.

“That ain't like you.”

He came out on to the porch and stared at the big red barn off in the distance.

“I got kicked out of my place last night,” I explained.

“That old barn out there, the roof needs fixin'.” he said as if I said nothing.

I sighed. “I'll go get my tools.”

“Not yet boy. First I need you to go on and help the others. There's this... uh... well you don't need to know what it is just help them get it into the barn, then you can start on the roof.”

I gave him a mock salute. He gave me a few pats on the back that nearly sent me to the floor.

“Good man.”

I started to leave when Chet lightly grabbed my shoulder.

“Say, why'd you get kicked out of your place anyway?” he asked. Was there a note of caring in his voice?

“Disagreement with the landlord,” I told him.

He gave me a smile.

“None of my business. I get it. I ain't one to pry.”

I gave him a nod and made my way toward the others.

I approached what looked to be a gasoline tanker with about five or six of the other ranch hands trying to fasten a big hose to what looked like a faucet coming out the back end. One of the hands noticed me and with a big wave he yelled, “Hey Jack! Take the other end of this hose here and put it in the container in the barn.”

I trotted up to where the hose was, picked it up, and at the same pace made my way to the barn.

When I entered the barn, the first thing I noticed was a giant gray cylinder about six feet tall and eight feet across. On the front of it was a window with little measuring lines like you would see on a tape measure. That's new, I thought. I fed the hose through the top of the big container and stopped once it hit the bottom. That oughtta do it, I thought, and with that I left. When I got outside I gave a big thumbs up to the ranch hands letting them know it was good to go. At that moment I felt a tap on my shoulder. I spun around and before me stood Ali. She was wearing a white sun dress that came down to her knees, her red hair rested on her shoulders, and one sandal-clad foot rubbed up and down her calf as if to scratch an itch. If there was one thing about Ali that really got me going it was her feet. Long and slender, I would have put them at about a size 8. Don't get me wrong, there were many other things to admire about Ali. Her legs alone would be enough to send any guy into orbit. But, sick puppy that I am, just getting a look at those perfect size 8s turned a bad day good.

“Hey there,” she greeted. “I hear daddy's got you fixin' the barn roof today.”

“Yeah...” I sighed. “Penalties of being late I s'pose.”

“Well be careful, it's suppose to get up 100 degrees today. Wouldn't want you gettin' sun stroke.”

“Ali Clarke,” I said in mock surprise, “I had no idea you cared about me so. Why, a lesser man would think-” she cut me off.

“The only thing I care about is my daddy having to replace another worker because someone was too dumb to keep himself hydrated on a hot summer day. Good help is hard to find and my daddy likes you. The only reason he's punishing you is that he don't wanna play favorites.”

I gave her a knowing smile. “I'll be careful little lady,” I promised. “I got too many bills. I can't afford to go dyin' of heat stroke.” I looked over at the tanker truck. “Say Ali, what is that stuff anyway? Your dad seemed awful secretive about it,” I asked.

“I have no idea. All I know is that some company's payin' my dad a lot of money to keep it here. He's been pretty quiet to me about it as well and he tells me everything. I'll tell you this much Jack, I don't like it. I can't shake this bad feelin', you know?”

“I'm sure it's nothin' to worry about.” I gave her a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, you're probably right.” She smiled back.

The both of us stood there for an awkward moment, smiling at each other, waiting for the other to break the silence. It was Ali who broke it.

“Well, I got chores and they ain't gonna do themselves,” she said with a laugh.

I looked up at the barn roof, shielding the sun from my eyes with my hand.

“Yep, me too,” I said.

She gave me one last smile and walked away, sandals slapping against each perfect foot as she did.

I sighed and mentally prepared myself for the long day ahead.

I had been working for three hours when I decided to take my first break. I had come to the conclusion the Chet had lied. The roof didn't need fixing; Chet needed a new roof. Years of storms, sunshine, snow and hail had turned a once reliable shield of the elements into a bonafide death trap for anyone stupid enough to try to fix it. Well, I never claimed to be smart. I took off my shirt and used it to wipe my brow when I heard my ladder shake. Seconds later, Ali appeared and with her she carried the only thing on God's green earth that could make her prettier. Two bottles of ice cold water.

“Leave it to you to be an angel when it's hotter then hell outside,” I said with a smirk.

“Sweet talking me ain't gonna get you outta fixin' this roof. The old man may be my dad but I'm a slave here just like you, and us slaves have to stick together.”

She got down on her hands and knees and slowly crawled toward me, being careful not to put to much weight on any one spot. It was funny to watch, like watching an infant crawl on a water bed.

“I see you've changed,” I said.

She look down at the blue overalls she now wore, the straps of which rested over a red tank top. Her feet to my dismay where now clad in work boots but the overalls accented her breasts in such a way that I felt I needed to pay to look at them. There was always something to look at when it came to Ali.

“You think I'm gonna do my chores in a sun dress?” she asked handing me one of the ice cold bottles now dripping wet with condensation. I took it gratefully.

“Fair enough,” I said with a chuckle. “You all done for the day?” I took a long pull from the bottle. I instantly felt 20 degrees cooler.

“Nah, I got about a million more things to do. I just saw you poundin' nails up here a figured you could use one of these.” She took a sip from her own bottle as she shifted her body to a sitting position. The roof let out a long mournful creak.

“Careful,” I warned, “I haven't gotten there yet and I don't know how much this old roof can take.”

She looked up at me from underneath her eyebrows with a look only women seem to be able to pull off. “Are you callin' me fat?”

I gave her a smirk. “I'm callin' the roof old. I'm surprised I haven't fallen right through yet.”

“You better watch it buddy, I am not above pushin' you off this roof and telling daddy it was an accident,” she said jokingly.

“Was that not you this mornin' telling me about how you need to protect your dad's workers and what not?” I said, my smirk morphing into a grin.

“Funny how you can remember little things like that but you can't remember to bring up some water with you on a hot summer day.”

She had me there. I gave her a look that said “touche” as I took my last swig of ice cold heaven.

“Well, I'll let you get back to work.” As she got up we both heard a loud creak much like the one before, only this one was followed by a snap. Ali looked at me with panic in her eyes. My own eyes went wide.

“Ali, don't move,” I said as I reached my hand out and crept slowly towards her. Ali froze, not moving an inch.

“Don't worry, it's gonna be fine. I want you to slowly reach out and grab my hand.”

I took another three steps and that's when I heard it. Three loud creaks, a crack, and Ali was gone. In her place was a large hole about three feet wide. My heart plummeted into my stomach and my mind raced to try to find what I should do next. I flew towards my ladder not thinking twice about my own safety and slid down it as if it were lined with grease. At a dead sprint I raced through the barn door and started looking around. Nothing... no Ali, not anywhere. I looked up at the roof trying to find the hole. Maybe I imagined it, I thought. Maybe she's up there right now wondering where the hell I went and this is some sort of heat driven illusion. No such luck. I found the hole and followed it down and there before me stood the container, now filled with a weird brown sludge, and at the top, face down, floated Ali.

I didn't spare a second. I went for a wooden step ladder located at the far end of the barn, grabbed it, and raced to the container. Seconds felt like years as I struggled to open the step ladder. I was about to give up and try jumping when I finally got it open. In half a heart beat I reached the top of the cylinder, Ali's limp body floated there before me. It was all I could do not to go into a blind panic. I reached for her arm and got it on the first try. I pulled her in close, looped my arms underneath each of hers, and with her back to my chest, lifted her out. I gently laid her on the ground. She was soaked in whatever that brown stuff was and I notice a bright red gash on the top of her head. I got down on my hands and knees, wiped her face the best I could, and put my ear to her nose. She wasn't breathing. Again, not hesitating, I tilted her head back, pinched her nose and breathed into her two solid breaths and checked again. Nothing. I put my hands on her chest one over the other, felt for her sternum, locked my elbows and pumped with my shoulders counting to myself as I did. When I got to ten I checked her breathing again. Nothing.

“Come on Ali,” I whispered.

I started the compressions again when Chet came running into to the barn.

“Oh God I saw from the house, is she...” he put a hand over his mouth.

“Chet! Go back in the house and call 9-1-1!” I commanded, still pumping her chest.

He stood there in shock, looking at his daughter.

“Chet! NOW!”

He shook his head as if coming out of a daze, nodded once and sprinted towards the house. I stopped the compressions again and checked for breathing. Still nothing. I pinched her nose again and gave her two more deep breaths. I was about to start the compressions again when Ali made a choking noise and coughed up what appeared to be a gallon of the mysterious brown sludge she had landed in. I rolled her onto her side, patting her back as she spit up the remaining sludge. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“You're going to be OK Ali,” I said, still shaking with adrenaline.

Chet came stomping in a little out of breath.

“They're on their way. Is she-”

“She's breathing,” I interrupted. “She has a nasty gash on her head but I think she's gonna be alright. Just come over here and keep her awake until the ambulance comes.”

After what seemed like an eternity, the ambulance finally arrived. Ali was still awake but not really coherent enough to speak. I ran outside to meet the paramedics, leaving Chet alone with his daughter. I waved them into the barn and explained to them what happened as they rushed over to Ali and her father. One of them asked Chet, as politely as possible, to stand clear. He reluctantly complied. I came over and stood with him, putting a hand on his shoulder for comfort, as the paramedics did their thing.

“Don't worry boss everything is going to be fine now. She's in good hands.”

I looked up at him expecting his gaze to be stuck on Ali. The strange thing was he wasn't looking at Ali at all. His eyes were glued on the container.