"Darnit, Lauren. I am a grown man! I know how to feed myself," he yelled at me.
I looked at his stormy green eyes as he angrily stared me down. Feeling my own eyes water at his harsh tone, I blinked a few times and nodded. I swallowed and stood straight, getting ready to take my leave.
"Fine, Pa. I was just trying to help."
"Well, I'm a grown man, Lauren. Just like you are a grown woman," he said in a mocking tone.
Not wanting to say anything else to make things worse or reveal my own hurt feelings, I raised my hands and stepped back.
"Fine then."
After my short response, I left the office biting my lip to stop the tears from coming. That afternoon, I took the small suitcase with my art supplies from the guest room at Tim's and headed out to a park nearby. Sitting in the middle of a field, I stared at my blank canvas while I searched for inspiration.
I felt so many emotions stirring within me; fear, hurt and anger. Without thinking of a subject, I went to my palette and began to mix the white, yellow and brown that would give me the exact color of yellow I was looking for. Once I had it together, I grabbed my paint brush and stabbed it into the color. On my canvas, I did a long swipe of yellow and almost sighed in relief. Release was coming.
Twenty five minutes later, I stared at the picture that was the embodiment of my frustrations at that time: my mother. Her name was Megan Louise McCoy, nee Dillon. She was forty-eight years old when she succumbed to cervical cancer. She left behind a husband, two sons and a daughter that would bear the brunt of her absence. It felt good to look at her face. It felt good to be mad at her. She should be here right now.
Picking up my paintbrush, I finished the painting. I modeled her neck, chest and arms after the woman with the baby at the rental house I'd seen more than a few days back. Instead of putting a baby in her arms, I put a piglet in there. I wanted to hate my mom as much as I wanted to hate the pigs.
Drying my eyes, I acknowledged the long-known realization that I couldn't hate her just like I couldn't hate the pigs. Both of them had their purposes and their own lives to live. It wasn't comforting, though.
As soon as my painting dried, I packed it up along with the rest of my supplies and headed back to Tim and Laura's place.
The next evening, Arnold accompanied me to the Bass Pro shop half an hour away to help me procure the things I would need for the show in Washington. I couldn't help but tap my foot on the floor mat as we pulled into the parking lot of the store.
"Why are you fidgeting so much," he asked as he pulled his big truck into a parking spot.
"Because I'm nervous. Because it is real now. I'm leaving in two days!"
Arnold smiled at me as he turned the ignition to the off position.
"I'm so jealous of you. Happy - but jealous."
Of course he would be, I muttered to myself. Walking through the parking lot and into the entrance I asked him if he would be nervous.
"Probably. But I'd still be ecstatic anyway."
"Even though there is a large likelihood that you would be the one to lose."
Arnold looked at me with shocked eyes and a surprised expression.
"Jiminy Christmas, Lauren! I know that you are a better shot than I, but do you need to be so rude?"
I kicked myself for my slip of tongue and put my hand on his arm.
"I didn't mean it like that, Arnold! I meant that there is a large likelihood that I will lose. There are twenty competitors! I have a 5% chance of winning this."
He nodded and sighed.
"Oh. Well, I know. Statistics are not on your side. But your good shooting is, Laura."
Walking through the women's shoe department, I spoke my mind.
"I don't think I'm gonna win this Arnold."
"Well, if you have that sort of mindset, you will lose."
I watched him as he searched for a certain type of boot in my size. The people at American Sharpshooter were very specific about what kind of supplies we would need.
"Well, I wanna win. But if I don't, I'll be okay."
"Well, that's a fair mindset too."
He then did a fist pump in the air as he pulled out a shoe box and handed it to me.
"Try them on."
Sitting down on a bench that had long mirrors on either side of it, I did as he requested. After I'd laced up my brown boots and walked before the mirror, he spoke again.
"It's about the journey, Lauren. It's about going far from home and meeting people that you would not have met otherwise. It's about having a story to tell your kids and grandkids."
I looked at his face and smiled.
"This journey sounds like it was meant for you, Arnold."
He shrugged as he leaned on a pillar.
"Maybe. But it will be a better journey for you. At least I'll be able to tell my kids that their aunt went on a shooting show and kicked butt."
Trying to lighten the mood, I changed the topic.
"Speaking of kids, how are you and Mara doing?"
Arnold's eyes and mouth opened wide at that. He then threw a wad of cut-off panty hose that he had balled up in his hands at my head.
"That there is a crass segue if I've ever heard one."
I blushed, feeling ashamed.
"Okay. It was tacky. I'm sorry."
I sat down on the bench and undid the laces to the boots I had tried on. As soon as I had my regular boots on and had pulled my jean legs down, I looked up at him.
"Seriously, though. You and Mara. How is that going?"
Arnold rolled his eyes at that and took the shoe box from my hands.
"Women's clothing...that's the area we need to hit next."
I stared at his back while I followed him to the next area where we would find needed items on the shopping list. Once we arrived at the section that held the fleece lined plaid shirts, he spoke to me.
"Things are going well."
He then walked to the section that held a rack of extra small sized shirts - my size. Without even looking in my direction, he handed me two shirts and told me to try them on in the dressing room. I held them but stayed standing there, waiting for some kind of elaboration about him and Mara.
Finally, he deigned to look at me.
"You said that you did not want to be the "go-between" for me and Mara. I'm just giving you what you want."
I rolled my eyes and dramatically groaned. "Touché!"
He laughed before gently pushing me towards the direction of the dressing rooms.
For dinner, we ate some pizza at the food court in the mall. We were both on our third slice of pizza when I saw a little girl run by our table with her little hand holding fast to a string which held a very pink balloon. She was dressed in pink, but had long dark hair trapped by a little ponytail at the top of her head. Immediately, I thought of Tim and my heart squeezed just a bit. She then stopped by a very green trash can and just stood there for a moment as she stared up at her balloon. The contrast between the green of the waste basket and the pink of her outfit was stunning.
"Brilliant Pink - Series B and Chromium Oxide Green Oil Paint," I said to Arnold.
His face split into a smile before settling his eyes on my face.
"Regular focus and with the flash on. I wouldn't need to do anything else but point and click."
I smiled and then laughed out loud. He laughed too.
"This is cool," he said after a minute.
"I know. I've never talked to anyone else about my painting before."
"I've never talked to anyone else about my photography and documentaries before either."
I smiled again and took a sip of my soda.
"Who do you think we get it from?"
He smiled and shrugged.
"I have no idea. Who would I ask? Pa? Nope."
We laughed out loud at that. I'd felt like my journey had already begun and I hadn't even left Texas yet.
I'd driven myself to the ranch the following morning, which would be my final day of work b
efore I left for Washington and the American Sharpshooter competition. Nervously, I wondered if my dad would talk to me. Would he ignore me? Would he tell me that he would never talk to me again if I went through with the competition? All of those questions rolled through my head as I drove my truck down the dirt path that went to our ranch.
An odd combination of relief and disappointment settled in my belly when I saw that my Dad's Jeep was missing from the side of the house, where we usually parked out vehicles. Curious, I went to the office where I found Arnold working on something on his computer.
"Where's Dad?"
He took a deep breath and then leaned back on the office chair as he looked at me.
"He took off early this morning. Said he'd be gone all day."
"Oh," I said, physically deflating onto the door jamb.
"He's avoiding you, I guess."
I sighed before answering that. "Seems that way."
Arnold's brow furrowed at that.
"Don't worry about him; he's old and set in his ways. Go there, kick butt and then come home. I bet that you'll find that he'll be looking at you in a different light when you're done."
"You think so?"
"I know so. You went and did something big and important - without his say so. That tells me that you are an adult."
I nodded at that. "Thanks."
"You are welcome. Now. Enough jibber jabber; let's get to work."
We did just that. For the next couple of hours, I made a list of things that would need to be done over the next three weeks. I made a list of vendors that needed paid, a list of creditors that needed called, and a list of supplies that would need purchased. Going inside of the kitchen, I found that my dad had still not gone to the grocery store. He was almost out of coffee and was out of his beer. Not good.
"Oh, dad," I muttered as I stared at the nearly bare pantry.
I didn't have time to go grocery shopping for him, but did have time to make a call for him.
"Hi Miss Megan. This is Lauren McCoy calling you..."
Ten minutes later, I had a faxed list of groceries to the local supermarket and the promise of delivery by Megan Jones, the proprietor within the next four hours.
Arnold met me at my truck.
"Hey. Someone from Open Pantry called to verify a large coffee order for us. For delivery. What is that about?"
I told him what I did.
"Now how do you expect Daddy to grow up when you keep mothering him?"
I opened and closed my mouth a few times, not managing to get any words out.
"I...don't know," I finally uttered.
"Exactly. Go on. Get outta here. Tim and I will be taking you to the airport bright and early tomorrow."
I sighed and nodded, looking around at the ranch one more time. Would it look different when I came back? Would it be too small for me after seeing what's out in the world? There was only one way to find out. I hopped into my truck and headed back to my temporary home - Tim's house.
I was sitting on their small deck in the back of the house with Laura, drinking a glass of wine and eating some chocolate covered strawberries.
"You know, you won't be able to come move back in to your dad's house once you get back," she said out of the blue.
I furrowed my brow at her.
"Why do you say that?"
"After being on your own for a few weeks? After having lived here for a week? You can't go back to being your dad's little girl."
Was that it, then? My father was mad because he lost his little girl? That was too heavy for me to deal with just then, I decided.
I took another bite out of a strawberry and considered what Laura had to say. After a minute, I came to a decision.
"Okay. If the second place - the one with all of the pregnant women is still available when I'm done with the show, I'll take it."
Laura half-smiled at that as she took a sip of her wine.
"Why that one?"
"Well, because it feels like someone's home. I want that sort of familiarity."
Laura nodded at that.
"I'll keep an eye on it for you, then."
"Thank you much."
We clinked glasses at that and enjoyed the sunset for a while.
Later on in the kitchen, I asked Tim and Laura a question.
"Hey, am I cooking tonight? Because I'll be happy to cook if need be."
Tim gave Laura a hug from behind before answering me.
"Nooo... We have a little going away party planned for you at In Cahoots."
"What? No! I'll probably be back on a plane in three days!" I protested. I really did not want a big deal to be made out of the competition.
"No you won't, Lauren. You are going to put on a good show. I just know it," said Laura with a big smile.
My heart skipped a bit just then. They looked so darned happy cuddling in each other's arms. I so wanted for them to be parents already. Wanting to indulge them, I stopped fighting the get-together.
"Okay. I'll go out there and have some beer and ribs."
"Then what are we waiting on?" said Tim as he grabbed his keys off the island counter.
Smiling, we all piled into his truck and headed out. Arnold and Mara were there waiting on us along with a lot of other people we knew from our business. A lot of my old friends from high school were there too. We shoot some pool, drank some beer, did some line-dancing and ate some barbeque. It made for a wonderful send off. Still, I looked at the entrance every once in a while, wondering if my dad might join us. I should have known better though, as my dad had never set foot into that bar. Why would he come tonight?
Early the next morning we were on the road to DFW Airport. I was nervous. I was terrified. I'd never gone anywhere without my big brothers and without my Pa.
"You alright back there?"
I looked at Tim's reflection in the rear view mirror from my seat in the back. I wanted to tell him and Arnold who sat right next to him that I was scared. I wanted to ask them to come with me. I wanted them to turn back the clock so that this had never happened.
"Never been on a plane before," I said instead.
I watched Arnold nod his head.
"From what I've read, it is positively uncomfortable and unpleasant. Just make sure you use the bathroom before you board the flight and take plenty of reading material with you."
He sounded so damned positive and sure of himself. Didn't he know how scared I was? Didn't he know how terrified I was?
"I will," I said.
We were at the departures section of the airport way too quickly.
"Are we here already?" I gently asked.
Arnold and Tim looked back at me as we walked up the ramp to the ticketing counter.
"Are you scared?" Tim asked with a smile.
"No," I replied.
"Liar," said Arnold.
"Yeah. Don't be a baby," said Tim.
That was all they needed to say. Pushing through the both of them, I made my way to the automatic doors and for the line where I would check my bags. I might be their younger sister, but no way was I anyone's baby sister.
"What's the big hurry?" asked Tim.
"I've got somewhere I need to be," I said in a perfunctory tone-of-voice as I gave them my back.
Ignoring their muttering, I pulled out my driver's license along with the printout for my boarding pass ready to present it to the ticketing agent. However, my bluster only lasted long enough for me to get to the metal detectors. I watched at all of the people separated into two crowds before the seatbelt-looking barriers - those who were going somewhere and those who were staying put. I turned to face my brothers one more time. The humor in their expressions had disappeared. Timmy came and set his hands on my shoulders.
"There are going to be other shooters with all sorts of accolades and fame. Others will boast their achievements to anyone who listens to them."
I nodded at his words while I nervously swallowed.
"You are an excellent shot, Lauren. Don'
t you forget it," he added.
Arnold took his turn with me and leaned down low so that he could look in my eyes.
"Lauren, some might make fun of you because of the way you talk and from where you are from. Don't let them bother you. Even if it does bother you - don't let 'em see it. They will have won then."
I swallowed again, feeling even more terrified at their words that were probably meant to strengthen me.
"I'll be okay," I said in a thick voice.
Tim pulled me into his arms into a big bear hug. I couldn't help but let out a sob just then. I'd never been away from my brothers before. Arnold then pulled me from Tim's arms and gave me another bear hug. The tears came then.
"Why are you crying?" asked Arnold.
"Everything's changing! I'm leaving you guys! I've never left you guys before. Dad's not talking to me either. I'm scared."
Arnold swallowed and blinked a few times before speaking again.
"Hey - it is okay to be scared. That is alright. That don't mean you have to quit, though."
Tim nodded his ascent at that.
"Go and try, Lauren. We'll be here waiting for you whenever you are done."
"But I might not win," I said as I tried to wipe the tears off my cheek.
"That is okay, Lauren. You have already made us proud by auditioning. And by going."
I nodded at that. Arnold cleared his throat then.
"And you have to go, Lauren Elizabeth. Get your butt in line and get to your gate. You don't have to win but you sure as well better try."
I recovered some of my strength through his tough love. I gave them one small wave before getting through a winding maze of barriers with my carry-on baggage.
"Take your jacket off and your shoes off too, Lauren!" yelled Tim.
I nodded at that.
"Take all of the stuff out of your pockets too. Oh! And take your driver's license out of your wallet and present that with your boarding pass to the TSA agent. They'll want to match your picture to your name!" hollered Arnold.
I laughed and rolled my eyes then. They were really starting to get overbearing. Still, I did as they told me when I approached the agent. I also listened to their advice when I approached the stack of white trays for personal belongings.
Feeling better and even a little excited about my adventure, I turned back one more time to face my brothers and smiled. However, their own smiles had disappeared as they stared back at me. They look nervous; no, they looked positively terrified! I gave them a small wave and then walked through the metal detector. They didn't wave back, but kept staring at me. I was able to get one more glimpse of them after putting my boots, jacket and belt on again. I waved again and then gave them my back, and headed towards my gate. I saw lots of other people walking around me - of different ages, faces and forms; I'd never seen anything else like it before. It kind of excited me that I had something in common with all of them - I was a traveler. I couldn't stop my face from splitting into a huge smile.
Nice Shootin' Tex Page 6