Nostalgia

This is the best I can do with the time I've got. Due to the lack of excitement with my work life, this sort of highlights what was going on in my head. It is a mixture of fact and fiction, obviously the present tense being the fictitious part. Hope you don't want to cut yourself after you read it!

The bottle was heavy, giving me reassurance that I would be able to fall asleep peacefully tonight. The trip to the liquor store was almost more than I could tolerate. Smiling at the checker and not punching anything seemed to be a goal I would never achieve. Gritting my teeth, I was hard pressed to not scream until I was well out of town.

But now it was between my memory and I with our mediator, Mr. Jack Daniel. I perched on the tailgate, ripping the seal off as fast as I could. Jack always calmed my nerves, especially on nights like tonight. The first pull went down like a fresh serving of scours, burning and somehow making its way into my windpipe. I coughed hard, but before I was ready I took my next pull. My eyes closed in ecstasy, feeling the whiskey tentacles wrap around the part of my brain that caused all the problems. A bit of my reasoning went out the window, along with a bit more of my common sense. It made me think of the night in Cheyenne, the night we’d gone to the concert.

Her back had hurt so bad she was almost in tears. Despite the fact I was three sheets to the wind, I had wanted to cry with her. I wanted her to be the girl I knew she was- happy, cheerful, and loving life. Watching her sit there, in pain and miserable made me hurt. I guess drinking always puts me more in touch with my observant side. I could see that she was in fact hurting badly. I wanted to make it right. I didn’t care about the hundred thirty dollars I’d spent on tickets to the concert. It didn’t matter that I’d driven three hours just to get here. I was here to see her. Despite everything else, all I wanted was for her to feel better.

But, when we got the concert she was dancing up a storm. The enjoyment she showed made it all worth it. All the sleepless nights, all the wondering, the good dreams turned bad when I woke up; it was immediately worth it. She laughed and sang along and danced like she didn’t have a care in the world. It was then I knew I was in love with her. Logan could have not even been there as far as I was concerned. The talk we had about movies and music on the way home was epic. Even the little bit I remember, all we talked about was movies and music. I loved her even more two weeks later when I said “Kevin Costner” and she knew exactly the situation I was talking about. It was then she told me that I should come down to the ranch and see the guests. It made me feel somewhat warm and fuzzy thinking about it.

I opened my eyes and the sun was crossing the plane of the horizon. The golden blaze in the clouds was lost upon me for one of the few times in my life. All I wanted was for her to be here with me, watching time pass before our eyes. I wondered what she was doing. I figured that at eight fifteen she should either be close to town or there already. A reflection of my own experiences on a Tuesday night told me it was a Sundance night.

I took another long pull, knowing what kind of ******* I turned into at the Scumdance. I shivered at the thought of other guys treating her like that. I jumped off the tailgate, not wanting to think about it. A few paces around the truck, and I pulled out my phone. I needed a distraction. I dialed up Kevin. Six rings and no answer, he isn’t going to answer. I hung up and sprinted back to the truck, my mind spinning with memories. Jack hands me a bottle and offers more advice.

My mind flashes back to the day after the rodeo that I went home. I was exhausted. I couldn’t hardly keep my eyes open, even after a few hours nap on the corral porch. I’d promised I’d go to the hayride, but I couldn’t even imagine Monday morning after four hours of sleep. As I went to say good bye, she gave me a huge hug. I held on tight, not wanting to let go. I noticed her sister came up behind her, and with a small smile sandwich hugged her with me. That small detail with potentially giant meaning hit me later that week. Could that mean what I want it to?

It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t want anything to do with a lonesome ranch hand that lives too far away. I leap off the tailgate, landing awkwardly partly due to the sagebrush and uneven ground, but my buddy Jack has my head reeling with interference. Liquid sloshes in the bottle, a testament to the bit of my medicine already taken. Still though, the thought processes in my head are going strong. Her smile is still bright, and my heart pangs at the mere thought of it. Another dose of medicine might do the trick. I stumbled away towards the windmill up the road fifty yards or so. I don’t know what I’ll do up there, but maybe I’ll find the answer en route.

Sitting at the top of the windmill and watching the last few rays of daylight disappear at the peaks of the Continental Divide I was reminded of the night I’d tried to roll my truck. I’d damn near pulled an all nighter, getting to the ranch from the strip joint at three and getting up at six. I was exhausted, but I spent the whole day playing suicides with Logan, shooting signs, drinking and otherwise having a good old time. I was ready to go home by the end of the hayride. Logan was riding with me, and then she jumped in the passenger seat. I was ecstatic in her presence. I still had a slight buzz from my earlier meal from a bottle and kind of wanted to show off to this girl I had recently gotten to know.

The first few minutes down the road was fun. We had the music blasting, and logan was passing around the flask of Jack D. We were listening to Jackson Taylor, having a grand old time and laughing it up. My mind was spinning, not believing this girl was actually in my truck, drinking whiskey and having a good time. I drove, getting more and more confident by the minute. It never crossed my mind that I was getting too confident, nor that I was going too fast until the truck began to tip over. I remember distinctly speaking to the air vent to the left of the steering wheel “This isn’t happening. This is not happening.”

The truck didn’t have enough momentum to roll completely, but a car not on its wheels is a rolled car. I made sure that both logan and her were okay before attempting to move. They both were sort of laying on me, but I was still concerned.

We ran back up the road to catch the Suburban full of staff, telling them we needed Jeff. I walked back down and sat with Walter, discussing faith and the likes. I remember asking him to say a prayer for me. I was in shock, knowing that I’d made one payment on the truck I’d just crashed. One payment out of thirty. I was so concerned about losing my grandfathers trust. I remember saying “I’d rather be dead.” All she did was say “You don’t mean that,” all the while giving me a big hug. She could have been very upset with me. Had someone just almost killed me the second time I ever rode in their car, I would have been upset. But she wasn’t. she just gave me a hug with a promise she wasn’t mad, then went to bed.

I drooped heavily as I hung backwards off the windmill. My head merely inches from the rapidly spinning blades, I didn’t care. Jack had my back. I noticed someone down below. None of her features were distinct except her black hair. I blubbered at her, telling her not to leave, scrambling as fast as I could down the precarious ladder rungs. I vaguely remembered there not being any steps the last ten feet as my foot fell onto nothing but air. My other heel caught a support wire and dumped me on my face on the hard packed earth next to the mill pump shaft. Nose bloodied and eyes watering, I looked for her.

“Hey!” I called. Nobody answered. Staggering to my feet, I crawled through the little fence surrounding the windmill. I looked down the road towards my truck. A shadow was sitting on the edge of the tailgate. There she was! I staggered to her as fast as I could, feeling something in my leg poking unnaturally. I ignored it, wanting to hold her close. I swung around to surprise her, but the bed was empty save for the numerous old beercans and the old ATV tire. Hopeless, I sagged to my knees, having only enough energy to crawl into the bed and curl into a ball. A few furious tears worked out of my eyes, even with my inner cowboy trying to shut off that vent. Cowboys don’t cry.
I told him to **** off. I needed it. I sat up and leaned against the bed wall. I tried to cry. Something was broken. The tears that I’d wanted to get rid of moments ago refused to come.

“Come . . . come on . . . . you ****ers,” I muttered, crawling to the tailgate edge. A misplaced hand sent me tumbling to the ground. I laid there absorbing the situation. What I needed was . . . more whiskey. I found the bottle a few feet away and drank deeply. The entire world was spinning around me. I wasn’t going to give up until she left. I looked over and jumped when she was lying next to me smiling. Somewhere in the small part of my conscious brain I knew this wasn’t right. I covered my eyes and crawled away, halfway gaining my feet before falling again.

“No! Stop it Skinny! She’s gone!” I realized I was crawling through a heavy patch of sagebrush and stopped. There was no way she could find me here. I lay back , somewhat relaxing. I took another drink, admiring the way the moon evaded my focal point. Must take a lot of talent to do that . . .

Footsteps. I sat up quickly. There she was. I still knew she shouldn’t be there. I gained my feet and tried to run again, my shirt snagging on a particularly virulent head of sagebrush. I fell. I felt the nasty brush scratch up my face. Blood ran to join the already dried blood from . . . from what? I licked my lips and tasted the coppery crust on them. Where did it come from? I took a drink from the bottle I found next to me, and closed my eyes.

There she was. All beautiful curves and sensuousness. I invited her down with me. She took my hand and fell down onto the soft wool blanket. Her hands in mine we intertwined, smiling at each other, knowing there was nowhere we’d rather be. I kissed her forehead and pulled her close, knowing the North Park cold would get to her.

Her breathing slowed. It was funny how hers seemed to mirror mine. The prickly feeling of sagebrush tickled my face. I waved it away and went to kiss her. Her lips met mine, and I sighed, looking at the sky one last time and drawing as close as I could to her. I looked at her and saw her sleeping. I loved watching her sleep. The night I’d said my good-byes she’d dozed off. I’d just watched her for what felt like hours, entranced and falling deeper in love every minute. My eyes drifted closed, and I floated away to a somewhat content but confused sleep I knew I wouldn’t wake up from.