Havin' meat fryin' in the pan is a cause fer celebration if ever there was one. I send Ro out to give the girls a bit of extra grain cuz why not let 'em celebrate too. After that, he's gonna head back to that grove of dried up walnut trees. Says he's certain he spied a few nuts, and if they are there, then I may be a fool fer overlookin' that grove, but I still want them nuts.

While he's gone I set the squirrel to cookin' and then go into my parents' old room, the one I never sleep in even though their bed's five times more comfortable than the measly cot I use. In my ma's wardrobe, there's a flannel shirt with holes where the moths got at it, a tattered old skirt she used to wear on laundry day, and a sky blue dress, light and airy and perfect fer a summer evenin'. That's the one I'm lookin' fer. Right 'fore I put it on, I think maybe it won't fit cuz I'm not as broad-shouldered as my ma, but it's nearly perfect, shaped and gathered in just the right places. I twirl 'round in front of the cloudy mirror hanging on the back of the wardrobe's door, the dress fannin' out 'fore returnin' to its place, its hem ridin' just above my knees. Since my ma's dead, she won't mind me pilferin' from her meager stash of feminine items, so I take one more thing, a silver hair clip, and sweep as many of my curls back into it as I cain manage.

"There," I say to myself. I am my mother on her weddin' day, same dress, same hair clip, same dark curls. I just pray I have her same spirit too, that I cain get through my life without regrettin' that I have to get through it at all.

I go back and tend to supper and 'fore long, Ro is poundin' up the steps. I got just enough time to reach back and grip ma's silver clip, makin' sure it's still in place, when Ro bounds over the threshold.

"Someone's coming," he yell-whispers, and all thoughts of curled hair held back and bare legs under a dress the same color as his eyes falls away.

I rush over to the tiny window next to the front door. He's still a ways off, trudgin' down from the north. From town. But ain't no mistakin' him. He's carryin' his ridiculous family flag, wavin' red and yellow, like all town leaders do in these parts in order to announce themselves ahead of time, make sure folks cain make ready with the royal treatment 'fore they reach their front gate.

"That'd be Orin Longbow." An overwhelming urge to kick something floods through me. "Ain't good."

"Why... why isn't it good?" Ro is all nerves, which frankly, is how he should be.

"Cuz Orin, aside from bein' a son-of-a-bitch, and I mean that quite literally, is also the town leader's son." Orin Longbow. He would love one of them rolls in the hay all the young men show up hopin' to git. Thing about Orin is, he's about as despicable as he is plum stupid. Last I heard from him, he was tryin' to sweet talk me by comparin' my beauty to that of the women him and his father keep doped up at the tavern. Well, if that sort of flattery works on the town girls Orin normally chases after, I suppose it's cuz dumb attracts dumb. As it stands, I've declined his advances more times than I cain count.

"Git," I say to Ro. It won't do to have Orin find a strange man in my house. If word gits back to his father, Ro'll be in fer a world of trouble, and me with him.

Ro don't wanna go, but I don't got time fer his debatin'.

"You git now, Rordan. You want the lawfolk knowin' yer here? Cuz Orin's pa'll tell 'em right quick. Besides, I cain handle Orin."

Ro scans me up and down. I know he's takin' in my get-up fer the first time. "May, what is he coming here for. What does he want from you?"

Well I surely picked the wrong night to dress up purdy, but I don't tell this to Ro. "Git now, Rordan, or I'll revoke your house privileges. Go down to the shed and throw some hay on top of you. And do it now, 'fore he gits any closer."

Ro looks me over one more time, his frown fiercely set, and then he does what I say. I go back to cookin', pretendin' that this is just another night fer me and my lonesome. I git to thinkin' that some good might even come out of Orin's surprise visit. If I want an answer about what happened to Granddad, Orin may be just the one to give it.

It don't take long 'fore Orin's knockin' on the door.

"May June? You in there?"

You know I am, stupid, you cain see me through the window. Ain't nothin' I cain do to stop my eyes from rollin', but I put a smile on over my annoyance and open the door fer him.

"Why, Orin Longbow, to what do I owe the pleasure." I situate myself right on the threshold, the door cracked open only as much as it needs to be in the hope that he will take the hint and not try to come inside. Orin ain't much at figurin' out hints, though, and he's pushed his way past me 'fore the word 'pleasure' has a chance to pass my lips.

"May June." He tips his hat, and sits himself down in Granddad's rocker. "Something smells fine. You kill yourself another one of yer goats?"

I don't need to respond to that. Besides, if it's small talk Orin wants, he ain't bound to git it out of me. "What you here fer Orin? I was just 'bout to settle in fer the night."

Orin sets his left ankle onto his right knee and pushes off a bit, slowly rockin' himself, and lookin' about as content as a cat who's just caught himself a mouse. "Here I thought you'd be pleased to see me, a young woman out on this solitary farm, all alone. You is all alone, ain't you?"

"You know I am, Orin. Ain't that why yer here? You got news of my Granddad?"

"Ain't seen him since a week 'fore you come to town lookin' fer him."

My heart sinks a little. I had a hope, a tiny one maybe, but still a hope that he knew where Granddad got himself to.

Orin sniffs. "I've been walkin' all day from town just to git to you. Cuz like I said, I thought you might be lonely. You gonna give me something in exchange fer my thoughtfulness, May June?"

I don't like the way he's takin' in Ma's dress, so different from how Ro looked at me just a few minutes ago. He's a mean ol' cat with sharp claws, that Orin.

"Orin, I'm more likely to believe Reba and Nessie learned to talk than that you came to visit out of thoughtfulness. Thinkin' after people's welfare ain't one of yer more renowned attributes."

"Now yer just bein' downright mean, girl." He's got danger in him, and he expects me to shake and shiver till he finally pounces. But I won't. I'm sayin' all the wrong things, maybe, but I ain't no mouse. I cain't stop myself from sayin' them, whether they spark the danger in him or not.

"I want you out of here, Orin Longbow. You ain't welcome. I don't care who yer pa is."

Orin gits up, but he don't move toward the door the way I'd hoped he would. Instead he starts glancin' 'round the house like he's expectin' to find something. Or someone. My mind fills with dread.

"Speakin' of my father." His eyes scan the room. "Pa got a courier bird in from the officer's camp. Turns out they're lookin' fer someone, a criminal. Think he's somewhere in these parts."

"You don't say."

"Yup, it's true." Orin walks into Ma's and Pa's room, sweeps his hand under the bed, comin' away with nothin' but dust. "It's real excitin' to hunt down a fugitive of the law. That's what I've been helpin' Pa do. And fer yer information, since you was so interested in knowin' the reason I came here, that's why. Seems like he might've passed this way. You seen anyone out of place, May June?"

"Only you, standin' in my house, which is a place you are out of, soon as you'll remove yerself."

Orin whips 'round, comes back to where I'm leanin' on the table, the one I just remembered is set fer a party of two. He glances down at it. "You expectin' someone?"

I try to laugh it off. "Only you of course. I saw that flag of yers comin' from the window. I planned on havin' you fer dinner all along. I'm just givin' you a hard time."

He don't ease up when I say this. Instead his eyes narrow. He's close now, so close. Crooked grin, teeth coated with chewin' tar, grindin' together. Wide hips pressin' in. He don't leave me no breathin' room.

"I cain't believe we've been havin' sich a nice conversation." He pauses, puts his hands on my shoulders, holds them there real tight. "And all this time, you've been hidin' an illegal."

"I don't know what yer goin' on about." I try unsuccessfully to wriggle out of his hold.

"No?" He's wearin' the foulest smile you cain imagine. "This is too good, May June. Wait till Pa finds out. Course, if you and I came to an arrangement instead..."

"What kind of arrangement?" I ask, though of course I know exactly how he wants me arranged. Is he really willin' to trade my favors fer Ro's freedom?

"Yer a smart girl." Smile, smile, smile. "You don't want to end up in jail, do you?"

He pushes on me, guidin' me towards the back of the house.

"Orin, you gotta know, I hate you. No matter what, I hate you."

Orin squints his eyes again. "Maybe I'll just report that illegal firearm to my pa after all."

Firearm? Cain he have been talkin' about Frank all this time? Frank, which some dumb ass farm girl left restin' plum out in the open in the corner next to the fireplace. Well if he thinks I'm goin' to invite him into my bed on account of Frank, he's got another thing comin'. Sorry Frank, but you ain't no flesh and bones and blue-eyed man, and there's a limit as to what I'm goin' to do fer yer sake.

"Now see here, Orin, I ain't agreein' to no arrangement with you. Take the gun if you have to. I'm sure yer pa won't mind addin' it to his collection. But leave me alone."

Orin's not gonna do that, though, that's fer damn sure. Those tobacco teeth and that glint in his eye tell me exactly what he ain't gonna let alone. "I come all this way May June, to check up on you."

"And now you have, so you cain leave."

"You know, you was always a stuck up one, never turnin' yer head when you passed me. And so proud of yer Granddad, you couldn't see him fer what he was, nothin' but a drunk."

"You don't talk about him, Orin. Besides, yer one to talk when it comes to limitin' yer liquor consumption."

He don't even acknowledge this, just keeps on blabberin'.

"But if there's one thing I cain say fer the old man, it's that he kept you after yer folks up and died. Kept you in line, too." Orin insists upon walkin' me backwards, so I both know and don't know what's comin' next. "But where's he now, May June? He ain't here to mind you no more, is he? Seems you need another man to teach you what's what."

"I don't need no man," I spit at him.

"No?" he sneers. "What about the one yer hidin' here. If you don't need him, then I best take him back to my Pa."

Shit, he knows. He knows about Ro. He was just playin' with me this whole time, just bidin' his time till he could pounce.

"You cain't do this, Orin."

But he cain. He knows he cain. He's hungry now. Got no more time to let his prey pretend she cain still git free.

"I bet he's hidin' outside somewheres." He licks his lips. "Ain't he?"

I don't say nothin'.

"Answer me."

"There ain't no one here but you and me. I told you that, Orin."

He takes his hands off of my shoulders, but there ain't no place I cain escape to now.

"Will he care what I do to you, May June? Will he come runnin' if he hears you beggin' me to stop?"

His tar mouth comes down over mine, but I twist my head to the side. I cain't stand Orin Longbow, I cain't stand what's 'bout to happen. I cain't stand it so much that I scream, cuz it's the only thing left to do, even though I know it's what he wants.

I'm screamin' "No, Orin!" and then he's grabbin' me again, rougher this time, and I'm just screamin', no need fer words. His hands twist my wrists and he leans his weight into me till I cain't stay upright no more. I may be smarter than Orin, but I'm no match fer him in size or strength. Orin, whose pa could afford to feed him adequately all the years of his growin' up, is a force against the wind.

I stumble backward onto my sleeping cot, which is the exact last place I wanna find myself what with Orin here. Orin comes right down onto it with me, his breath like curdled milk and rank tobacco hot against my neck. He fits himself on me, knee pressed to my thigh real painful, and that's when my screams once again change up, into bites this time. I chomp down hard on the only piece of Orin I have access to—his ugly crooked nose.

Ain't no smile on his face no more.

That's when he decides he's had just about enough of me. I've made plenty of noise to draw out Ro, if that's what he wants, so now he'd prefer if I was silent. He takes his hand, forms it into a ball, and slams it into my face.

All that frantic scratchin', clawin', bitin', screamin', it dries up like the fields and the walnut grove and like the well will too one day. I got no voice now, no fight, cuz it's not so much the punch that does me, it's the fact that the force of the blow sends my head smack into the corner of the window sill runnin' along the length of my bed.

This opens me up to a new kind of experience, one in which I get to taste my own blood as it makes its way down into my mouth. I should by all rights be unconscious by now. One eye refuses to open, and the other blinks thick and red, but the sight and awareness I got left in me is enough to grasp the followin'— Frank raised up and aimed high.

Frank, tried and true companion to one May June Stebbins — so help me if Orin uses him to do me in, I don't know what. Well, I must've got hit hard enough to knock the sense clear out of me. Cuz it ain't Orin who's got Frank in hand, it's Ro. I don't think Orin fully thought out what he was doin' when he aimed to draw Ro to him. And now, he's so busy with me, he don't even notice Ro is here.

Orin's pushin' Ma's pretty blue dress, all torn and bloodied now, up 'round my waist when Ro hauls him off me and uses Frank's backside to smack him to the floor. I blink away more blood and try to raise myself up a few inches, cuz I surely do not wanna miss this.

Orin's down on his knees, but he ain't about to admit defeat. He pushes against Ro's middle knockin' him off balance. This is the opportunity Orin needs to grab fer Frank. Frank's not havin' it and neither is Ro, but still, Orin puts up a good fight. Both men have their hands on Frank, and at first, Frank has the decency to stay aimed at the ceiling. Then Orin uses those big meat-fer-dinner-every-day muscles of his to turn Frank in the direction I was hopin' could be avoided. I shrink back on the bed as Orin struggles to aim Frank so he cain put a bullet right 'tween the two wounds he's already inflicted on me. Third time's a charm.

Don't do it, Frank, I think. And he won't do it. Ro won't let him. This is Orin's fatal mistake, really, cuz Ro's eyes blaze when he realizes Orin intends me to be the recipient of Frank's bullet.

Ro uses all his strength. All. Of. It. He turns Frank back in a direction far more in keepin' with Frank's disposition, back on the one who started this whole mess in the first place.

It comes like a new year's celebration, a blast of white and red to light up the night. And then I'm screamin' again, screamin' and I don't know if it's words, or bites, or just plain noise comin' out of me, but I don't stop. I don't stop, not till Ro's own cries of "gods, gods, gods," over and over again turns into "May, May, May."

Quiet follows. I shut my one good eye, cuz there's gore splattered all over Ro and I cain't bear to see it. He lifts me into his arms, presses me into the blood he spilt fer my sake. I'm so tired, and the room's spinnin' faster and faster, and I don't wanna be here in this spinnin' fallin' down house, nor on this nearly dead farm, with its yield of nothin' but hardship and pain. I got only a few words fer Ro and then there ain't nothin' left fer me to give.

"Cain I go now?"

Red in my eyes, followed by blindness, my world's closing up fast. But my ears, ringin' from the shotgun blast, hold out long enough to make out the words, "No, May, you can't go. You can't go. May, don't go. May? May!"

He's shakin' me, callin' out my name in place of the gods, but I don't respond, cuz I'm already gone.

A/N: That was intense, wasn't it? It was also much longer than my usual chapter length. There was no good place to break this one up, so I left it whole. Hope you don't mind!

Well... now what? May is injured. Frank and Ro have killed the town leader's son. As May would say: "Ain't good!" 

What do you think will happen next?

It seems only appropriate that this chapter's votes go to May's brand new Campaign Against Horrible People. Orin may be gone, but you know there's more of them out there. She can use all the votes she can get! Thanks guys and gals!

Today's dedication is for Margaret Atwood, because she's awesome and because winning her Future Library contest in June 2015 was definitely a highlight of my life. I'm so very thankful to her!