Spurs for Studs.

25

Raising with the roosters, dark circles under bright blue eyes and a new found appreciation. Slipping into worn out Ariats and pulling the cracking leather belt into place behind the buckle won years ago in high school.  A new found out look. While Daddy wasn't a great man he loved in his own way and that meant more than she could verbalize. Heading out the back door can of chew in hand. Packing a lip as she stumbled blurry eyed into the barn, pulling bags of feed from their spot on the rack, walking through the stalls as she filled each trough to the brim before moving to the next. Orange beams spilling through weathered wood, pulling her eyes from the shit covered floor to take a gander at the master piece painted across the sky, stumbling into the wall after her knee connected with a level sticking out past the shelfs. Cursing the existence of the aluminum level just like her daddy did all those years ago when he built the dinner table, and the chairs.

All those years later and she was her fathers daughter, a can of Copenhagen wearing hole in the back left pocket her blue jeans, the buckle wearing smooth across the face, and the anger bubbling in her gut. Quickly realizing she was him, destine to the same fate; no matter how much Momma tried and Lord knows she tried she was going to live and die the same death her father suffered. Even if it wouldn't be lung cancer that got her. She would die in this stupid town and no one would give a damn, people would move on and she would be a headstone standing proud in a sea of sandstone right past the corner of the church.

Jess pops her head around the corner "What are you hollerin about?" She prodes with a cup of coffee in hand. 

Wiping away newly fallen tears before turning to face the blonde. "When you start drinking that?" Changing the subject rather quickly.

"Over the summer. You leaving made me take on all of your chores." I nod in response as I move the level. "Well I gotta finish before the school bus comes around." Only nodding wordlessly as Jess leaves the same way she came. Working quickly to finish the chores in the barn before stalking past the pins into the tractor pulled under a decrepit wooden car park. 

Climbing up the steps into the machinery, firing it to life, letting it turnover twice before the knowing roar of life. Pulling from the car park. Daddy had built it when she was all of seven years old. Worried about the hail, and standing water. Fried bologna sandwiches and red solo cups of sweet tea scattered about as she read off the number from the measuring tape, slapping a squiggly line on the point for daddy to saw off later. Driving towards the flowing field, wheat stalks dancing wildly in the wind, dropping down the blades as she followed the path ran deep from decades of harvest. 

Her phone sat idly in the cup holder, she'd check the screen every time she started a new row, praying for a text from Kristie. Or Abi. Just someone to talk to. Someone who hadn't marinated in the sadness. From someone who didn't pause every time they passed the third bedroom on the left. Door slightly ajar with an unmade bed and the underwear drawer still wide open. 

The field was taken down and the wheat was gathered, to be sold at a later day. Everything was for a later day. The clock struck five and I bided my time, snagging the keys to the beat up truck from their spot on the hook. A new can wearing the same hole in my jeans. Driving towards the creek. Pulling off to the side of the road just pass the clearing. Clambering from the hunk of metal with a half full pack of Busch light in hand, stumbling down the harsh cut path towards the bank. Perching herself on a rock. Cracking the first of many cans. Staring across the lake as water babbled over the rocks. It was then that it hit her as the sky opened up. 

You could run from grief all day long. But it will find you on a rainy day on a rocky shore and will sit with you whether you invite it too or not. Having ran from everything that reminded her of Luke had only brought it all back to her. The sky opened up and the small droplets started to pelt her, coming in from the side as one can turned into four. Littering around her on either side. A fifth of chew lodged between her gums. Lifting her head to the sky as it poured down on her. 

Her phone starting to ring from its spot pressed against my thigh. Pulling the device from my pocket I saw Abi's name flash across the top of the screen Clicking accept and raising it to my ear. "Lord knows we need it." Abi stated from her spot four states away posted up on the porch from her friends house with a half full mug of coffee in hand. Questioning " You're cage is open, Why don't you just walk out." I sat with it in the same predicament with a half empty can of Busch light in hand as the rain ran down sun tanned arms and soaked through worn blue jeans and pondered on it. She could play coy, But Abi wouldn't let her off that easy. She never did. 

"I ummm... I don't know. I mean If I don't do it who will?" Abi sat on the question for all of thirty five seconds before retorting "Others will. It's not just you against the world. You can't keep just doing everything on your own. The only thing that will accomplish is ridding everyone you've ever loved walking away." That hit harder. Harder than daddy's belt agaisnt my back, harder than Jacki. Abi continues " Coal... The stadium lights are off, the bulls are back in their pasture, why do you keep bucking when theirs no one left to watch you?"

"Because All I know how to do is Buck." I shout feeling the anger boil in the pit of my stomach. Hot, fat tears rolling down reddened cheeks. Mixing with the rain as the traveled down my chin. I was born with my mothers longing stare and my fathers need to distance. Raised with my head down low and my hands raised high just like all those nights way back when. 

"Figure out how to get off the damn bull. People aren't gonna keep waiting. And shit I might not keep waiting. All I do is watch you blow up everything good. Get off the damn bull coal." The call drops as the clouds darken. Sitting and stewing in the grief and the sadness. The roaring water roared with more might than ever before. Dropping the fifth can to the ground, stumbling to her feet. Pulling the faded crimson hat from her head. Stalking towards the water. Wading deep until the rocks beneath her feet ceased to exist. Sinking lower and lower until the need for air outweighed her need for silence, pushing towards the surface with everything in her. Swimming in long powerful strokes towards the shore. Water sloshed in the boots as she crawled back to her previous spot.  

When the sun dipped low beneath the surface and the pines whistle way out in the distance. I hear my father voice prodding "Have you checked the oil?" I sit and think of all things I've let go to shit in my life. How I need to call Kristie, and tell my Momma I can't become my Daddy, how Abi needs someone who is stable for her. I just need to figure out how to get my hand out and get off the damn bull that won't stop bucking for nothing. 

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This is like brain vomit. If it doesn't make sense my fault.