It was during the last signs of Spring that I first laid eyes on her. School was just getting out for the day and I watched the children getting off the bus I should have been on. Once again I had skipped classes and stayed home. See, my mother was never very concerned with my whereabouts or lack thereof. My name is Parker Louise Petty and at that time in my life I spent most of my days sleeping in and eating the most fattening foods I could get my hands on. I was a chubby tomboy with hopes of being someone else, anyone else.

"Don't bet on it, hon!" someone yelled.

As I looked up I saw the most intriguing, gorgeous woman I'd ever laid eyes on. She was a woman who I would later learn was Miss Ruby. She was making her way out of McFinnigan's, one of the less respectable of our local watering holes. She was very tall, much taller than the women around here. Her hair was red. Not that fake kind of orange red you see women sporting but a deep cherry red with curls that flowed down her narrow back.

"Son of a bitch don't know a lady when he sees one! What kind of rearing did these people get anyway? Down home, a man knows a lady and treats her like one."

She reached down her long curvaceous leg to fix the strap of her high heeled black pump. She was wearing these funny stockings, kinds that had holes all over them. I always thought women tried to avoid holes in stockings.

Our eyes met, she smiled at me and said, "Oh, hey there darlin'," in an accent I'd only heard on television.

I wanted to look away or say something but I couldn't. She was the most spectacular sight I'd ever seen around these parts. She strutted by me and headed into Mrs. Williams' store that sold everything from Winstons to American cheese. I suspect that they also sold dirty magazines but could never quite prove it.

I was sitting in my favorite spot, below a cottonwood next to Mrs. William's store, as I watched the well-dressed, adequately loved kids from my neighborhood parade around my block. Our town was underdeveloped then. General stores, neighborhood bars, and houses that to me, seemed to hold happy, normal families.

I knew my mother would be home from work soon, and although she didn't care much about keeping my education she did care if I was home after her long day to help with supper, if she decided we would have one. She also liked me to clean the house while she napped before starting her nightlife. I could almost cry at the thought of losing touch with this beautiful, red headed stranger, having her disappear from my desperate life. But as much as I hated it I had a home to go to.

As I passed by Johnny Briggs yelled, "Hey Parker Louise, how come you missed school today? What were you doing, sitting around counting your rolls?".

He and the other boys chuckled at me while elbowing each other, but I calmly walked along the edge of the dirt road, turned my head in their direction, and burped as loud a burp as I could muster. Johnny looked disgusted and shocked at the same time.

"You're a pig, Parker!" he yelled.

"Right back at you, asshole!" I replied. God, those boys were harsh, but I always tried to keep up with their sadistic ways.

I wanted to call Johnny a bastard. This was the one thing that really pissed him off because his father died in Vietnam before he was born, and before his parents had the chance to marry. But you'd feel like a real jerk making fun of someone whose dad died trying to protect our freedom. Of course, there was also the fact my dad was nowhere to be found, so I knew it would be hypocritical of me to point that out to someone else.

The dirt road, Maggie's Road it was called, was my favorite road in town. The trees that lined the dirt bent over towards the middle of the road creating this kind of natural tunnel. I'd always imagined that when I got to the end I would find myself in a world far removed from my own that held magic and mysterious beauty. But to my dismay all I ever found at the end was a rusted out tractor in the field of the Top of the Hill farm.

Our house was the last house on the right on Pine Street. The outside was in decent shape. It was a small, old, gray house with bright white trim and a manicured lawn that was cut by Jeffrey Bishop, a neighbor's son and bi-weekly acquaintance of my mother. I'm sure their visits would have been more frequent if grass grew at a more rapid pace. I never actually saw them do anything together, but from Irene's body language and the way she would touch him as they spoke, I assumed they had. Jeffrey was the only 'friend' of my mothers that I envied her for. He was seventeen, black hair, rugged green eyes and he filled out his Levi's better than any boy I'd ever seen. Also, he was one of the few people that was ever truly kind to me.

I climbed the three steps to our front door and glanced at our Welcome sign. Irene, that's my mom, wasn't home yet. Every time I'd enter our house I'd think, God, I wish we had a dog. You know, someone warm and loving, always happy to see you. Irene never cared much for pets. She thought them a waste of money and attention I suppose. Sometimes I'd wonder if she felt that way about me.

I remembered Ribbons. A sweet little black curly haired dog. Ribbons was my best friend. We had her from the time I was four until nine years of age. I needed her. I loved her. Then Irene bought a fancy new rug. She got it 'wholesale' from a man who owned the local carpet store. I'd like to say Irene worked hard saving her money for this treasure but from the talk around town I had learned it was more of a 'barter' situation. Ribbons was an incredible dog. She never destroyed anything until the rug came. I don't know if it was the smell or design but she started shitting on the rug. Two times to be exact. After the second time, Irene told me we had to get rid of her. "No!", I'd scream through a veil of tears. "You can't get rid of her. She's my best friend. I'll die! I will I'll die if you get rid of her."

"Oh please, Parker. You're not going to die. She's just a dog for God's sake. She doesn't even have a soul!"

I thought it ironic, Irene claiming the dog soulless, but she didn't bring it up again that day so I assumed Ribbons and I were safe from separation. Two days later a couple showed up at our door. The woman had her hair in a bun with large moles hanging from her face. I didn't know them and didn't know why they were at my house until they bent down to pet Ribbons.

"Oh she's just adorable" the woman said. "Perfect size for our little girl."

I thought, what is she talking about her little girl? I was the little girl who owned this dog. She's mine. She loves me, not your daughter.

As I quickly realized what was happening, I took desperate measures. "She's vicious you know. Bit me more than once, and the boy down the street almost lost his ear to this sweet dog. Look I have the scar to prove it".

I revealed an old scar on my arm from a fall I took when I was younger. The woman stood up with noticeable fear while looking at Irene with disgust for having them travel across town for a rabid dog.

"Don't be ridiculous, Parker!" Irene scolded. "This dog has never bit a soul I can assure you. Parker is just having a hard time accepting Ribbons has to live somewhere else."

Now the woman's look of disgust was directed towards me. With that, the husband put his fat fingers on my shoulder and said, "It's just a part of life kid. Sometimes things just don't...