False Prophet

002. Two Uninvited Guests

✷

　Late afternoon, somewhere on the way from the Church of the Good Shepherd in Sapulpa to the Carter family farm.

　Before them, the Oklahoma plains seemed to stretch endlessly if you could get past the suburban mansions people have been trying to insert into the ill-fitting space for the past few years. To some it could be unsettling──the mostly shabby buildings and lone, withered trees too──but to Beau it was somewhat comforting. That illusion of infinity, of being small and mundane in a big world, had made him feel safe and loyal to Sapulpa for the past three decades.

He ran his hand through his hair as he and his mother walked back from church. The day had been mild, the kind of Sunday that felt like a God-given reprieve from the harder days on the farm, with a gentle breeze carrying the scent of freshly tilled earth and grass.

"That was quite a sermon today," Cathy said with a smile, adjusting the brim of her straw hat. Her voice held a lightness, and Beau didn't know if she was genuine or trying to joke.

"Yeah," he agreed, though his mind wandered a little, thinking about the long to-do list waiting for him back at his ranch.

"You'd know about helping out, wouldn't you?" His mother gave him a sideways glance.

He chuckled, shaking his head modestly. "It's just what you do, Mama. People help me out plenty, too."

They reached the gate of the family farmhouse, pausing for a moment, their steps slowing as the familiar sight of home came into view. Cathy turned to look at Beau. When he took his eyes off the horizon, he saw that hers were softened with a mixture of pride and... a certain sadness.

"Remember when you first bought that house of yours?" she asked, her voice tinged with amusement. "Never thought you'd get such a steal."

Beau smiled, a small laugh escaping him.

"I was only twenty. Still can't believe it myself, sometimes." He hadn't even been looking for a house at the time. An old family friend had simply offered the farmhouse to him, unprompted, for a price so low it had felt almost like a gift. That was that. He couldn't have refused.

Maybe──Beau wondered──it wasn't the fabulous fields that anchored him there, in the heart of the southern state. Maybe it was just the loan he took out to pay for most of the house as he refused to even look at the stash that was Kate's college fund. The friend, Clive, had been real patient with the rest. Said Beau could pay him off in milk, a piece of advice here and there, and the occasional repair.

In Sapulpa, helping out a person in need could get you anywhere. Similarly, Beau found it nearly impossible to refuse anyone, anything. On principle? Because he was born that way? He wasn't sure.

He nodded at his mother. "I like it──repairing fences, fixing roofs, giving away fresh milk from our cows. Folks around here, they took care of me, just like you always said."

"And now look at you," Cathy said, the inkling of a gloat swelling in her voice. "A full ranch, horses, cattle. You and Kate really couldn't be more different."

Again, maybe that was because Katie had no loans to pay off. Beau, on the other hand, was still working on getting rid of one even after a decade.

Some people──Beau could even think of a name off the top of his head──would call his life sad. He would have to disagree. It was stagnant, sure, but he liked it that way. Meek. Lowkey. Ordinary.

If he were a storm chaser, like Katie used to be, he would have to worry about his heart all the time. He would have no one to take care of his horses. There would be no one to take care of mom. And he, truly, did not seek out much more. In a film or novel, no one day can be too similar to another, because that's then boring to read about.