Redneck Dawn

"But mom. Are you kidding me?! Your marrying him after everything. After dad?" I yelled through the fairly large kitchen towards my mom. She'd heard my rant before but she didn't give a shit about my opinion of who she should marry.

"Charlie. Please. Dan's a good man. Besides, what has he done to you that was so bad? All he ever did for you was buy you stuff and take you hunting. Will it really be that different?" Her eyes were big and the sharpness in her voice was clearly angry.

"Dad died 3 years ago. This is too soon." I didn't even wait for her response before walking down the wood floored hall towards the front French doors. I slammed one behind me and walked down the steps on the sidewalk to my truck. I slammed the door and roared up the engine. This was the truck my dad had given me when I was 14 and was starting to drive to school. Many thought my love for the blue, rusted machine was crazy since it got horrible gas mileage and hadn't had a good radio until I pimped it out. But that baby could plow into 10 deer and not even get a dent.

I found myself pulling into the driveway of the sorrowful graveyard. The road leading in was very narrow, like it was made for 4 wheelers and motorcycles. Not for this big ass truck. I pulled over on the side of the road and shut off my truck. The fall leaves fell down on top of the hood. I watched as they fell delicately, covering the blue of the metal. The memory of my dad and I making leave piles and jumping into them, when I was little, flooded my mind. Tears threatened to flow out of my eyes, but I shook them off.

I opened my door and started walking to the stone that had a tractor carved into it. I read the lettering, tears once again stinging my eyes. John Howell 1965-2010 beloved by a wife and 3 loving daughters. I fell to my knees and just stared at the thing that had kept him happy for 45 years. Tractors. They had been his life's work. Whenever he had the chance, he would be outside tinkering and moving things around with the John Deer.

My heart felt heavy. Like it always did when I came here. I looked over to the grave next to his. His brother's. He had died when I was like 8, but I was unaffected since I had hardly known him.

"Dad. I come here everyday. I'm not sure if your listening, or if anyone's listening to me. But, talking to you makes me feel better. About everything." The tears left my eyes, "But Mom's getting married. And I don't want her to. Especially not with Dan. I know you guys were friends but this...this is all to soon. I know I should be happy for her...but I can't. Plus, I'll have to live with Daisy under the same roof. But I know what you, and God want me to do. You want me to be happy for them, and not be selfish. So I won't be. I'll support her. And maybe Dan. I'll be Daisy's big sister and I'll be there for her too. Just please. You and Lord give me strength." I rested my hand on his grave before climbing to my feet. The weight on my shoulders didn't feel so heavy anymore. That's why I liked coming here. Things seemed better.

Before I knew it the truck was in front of my face. I looked back, and whispered, "Love you Daddy."

2 years passed and I found myself living in the white house I've spent half of my life in. Not my own. But Dan's. Your see, when my parents were busy or working Dan would hang out with me and take me hunting and fishing. Everything that rednecks do. 2 1/2 of my summers were spent there. Plus about half of 2 school years. My family had known him for a long time. He was divorced and lived with his adopted daughter.

I sat on the tan brown couch and flipped through channels as I petted my puppy, Pup. Yes. How original. But the Pup before her was so special so why couldn't she be the second? I flipped past Disney and eventually ended up on the outdoor channel.

"Are you gonna do anything today?" Dan asked through the kitchen window type thing as he poured his coffee. He rubbed his gray scruff and adjusted his camo hat as he walked into the living room.