February 3, 1963 cont.
More than anything else is the world, Bobby Warren wanted to hate Annabeth Washington. That girl had always been a hindrance for him, ever since he could remember, and it seemed as time went on the obstacles related to Annabeth only grew larger.
He had tried his damnedest to hate the girl in kindergarten when she kicked his shin and made him bleed. It was the same day he told Annabeth her dress was pretty and she told their class that he ate boogers. Bobby cried all the way home until he saw the same ribbon haired she-devil pick up a bird with a broken wing, her touch delicate and caring, as she carried it back to her house to heal. His anger at the pig-tailed child subsided almost instantly, replaced by an innocent wonder that stuck with him as they grew.
Bobby wanted to hate Annabeth when she asked Howard Morton to the 8th grade Sadie Hawkins dance. Instead, Bobby went with Missy Carlisle and caught Annabeth's eye as he spun his date around the dance floor. Annabeth smiled at him from across the crowded gymnasium, and his hate was replaced by a harmless crush that developed into a slight fixation as the years went on.
Finally, Bobby wanted to hate Annabeth after he finally thought he had won her over only for her to completely break his heart. She hadn't want to be with him after all. She wouldn't admit it, but there was someone else. It was clear as day to Bobby the moment she broke up with him in the front seat of his truck.
Finally, for a short time, he thought he could finally hate the infuriating, selfish, evil woman.
Then, she came into that cabin- their cabin- her wet hair plastered to her face, her purple lips shivering, her eyes wide in worry, and his hate was once again replaced by a different emotion- A protectiveness that covered her in a warm blanket and led her to dry in front of the fire.
Now, because of Annabeth- the girl he couldn't hate no matter how hard he tried- Bobby was combing the woods for a man who was practically a stranger to him- A black man that had apparently been beaten up for spending time with the same girl who had been driving Bobby mad for practically his entire life.
It was all starting to become clear to Bobby. He recalled the recoil in Annabeth's stance when they had gone to the activist center in Birmingham. She was excited as hell one second, only for her face to fall dismayed the moment Terry White stepped in front of them.
He could also remember the shock on Terry's face at seeing her standing there. How his eyes fell to Bobby's hand on Annabeth's waist. Henry saying that Terry had a woman named Annabeth that waited for him in Alabama. The quiet, contemplative ride home, followed by the end of whatever relationship the two of them had.
Finally, it all made sense.
And Bobby felt like an idiot.
Even more so now, that he was spending his day trying to help the man who had stolen the heart of the woman he been in love with his entire life.
The brutal weather made it feel as if the search were endless. The overcast sky kept the forest dark and the wildlife running for cover from the rain kept the shadows constantly moving. More than once, Bobby worried that he would scan right over Terry by accident and he would have to leave him to fend for himself in an unfamiliar and unsafe territory.
Bobby was worried about him. He knew Terry didn't deserve whatever those men did to him. Bobby knew how easy it was to fall for Annabeth. How could he blame him for doing something that he himself had easily done?
If anything, he blamed Annabeth.
Finally, just as Bobby was debating on giving up the hunt, he spotted Terry's hunched over form leaning back against a tall Oak tree. Bobby jogged up to him, leaning down and resting a hand on Terry's shoulder.
For a second, it appeared as if Terry was unconscious. Then, he slowly recoiled, his swollen eyes opening cautiously at the human contact.
"I'm here to help," Bobby whispered to Terry as Terry tried to pull himself away from Bobby's touch.
Terry calmed, his quick breathing beginning to come out at a more even pace. Terry considered Bobby's calming face, recognition slowly settling upon him before he nodded his head the best he could.
Bobby reached out and used all his strength to help the injured man to his feet. Terry stumbled more than once, but eventually, the two of them began to keep a steady pace as they headed arm in arm toward the little cabin the woods.
*~*~*
Annabeth kicked off her boots and placed them in front of the fire. She hurried out of the rest of her wet clothes, with the exception of her undergarments, and draped them over random pieces of furniture in front of the fireplace.
She secured the old quilt to her body the best she could before frantically searching through every nook of the cabin, looking for anything that could help her in case Terry was badly injured. There was nothing of use besides an old shirt that she could tear for bandages, and another much smaller blanket than the one she had swathed around herself.
Annabeth paced back and forth, her body finally warm and dry but her mind moving at the speed of light.
What if Bobby couldn't find him? What if he was too hurt for them to help him? What if being with Annabeth had gotten Terry killed?
She wasn't sure how long it was before the door to the cabin finally opened. Annabeth's clothes were dry and back on her body, with the exception of her boots and coat that still held on to the wet due to their thickness.
Her eyes widened as Bobby stumbled through the door, a large body slung over his shoulders. She shrieked and ran forward. She stopped herself when she saw how much Bobby was struggling with Terry's weight. Annabeth wasn't sure how he could've possibly picked him up, but she knew as well as anyone that Bobby was full of surprises.
Bobby stopped by the side of the bed and stood still, probably trying to figure out how he would set Terry down without hurting him further.
"Let me help," Annabeth whispered in the silence.
"Grab his head," Bobby commanded. "I'm going to have to do this fast, Annabeth. You ready?"
Annabeth nodded quickly and reached out, trying to keep Terry's head from hitting anything on the way down to the mattress. Bobby counted to three, and then he quickly dropped to his knees on a moan as he let Terry's large frame drop from his shoulder.
Terry slumped onto the bed but made no sound, nor did his eyes flutter and open as she was hoping they would. Instead, Terry lay still as a board.
"Is he..." Annabeth choked, silent tears streaking down her cheeks.
"No." Bobby answered shortly. "He was awake a little while ago. I had him walking and then he just collapsed on me. I had to grab him up and carry him the rest of the way."
Terry's face was covered in lacerations and bruises, his lip split at the side and a pale purple from the cold. Little droplets of water clung to his short, curly hair. He must've been freezing, but he lay completely still.
Annabeth looked to Bobby. He sat on the wooden floor, trying to catch his breath, a look of utter exhaustion on his face.
She believed him when he said Terry was alive, but she reached out in search of a pulse anyway. Annabeth found the gentle rhythm on his neck and sighed in relief.
