Racing the Sky

by Layla Dorine

  “I am,” Terry replied as he stood, a smile crossing his face when he saw that she was setting three places.

  He headed out the back door, scanning the field until he saw Grandpa Lou in his worn coveralls, checking apples on the tree just up the hill. Terry headed his way, eager to hear what his grandpa would have to say about the mess he’d gotten himself in.

  ***

  “You want me to do what?” Vic declared as he stared wide-eyed at River.

  “Be my wing man, come check out this bar with me.”

  “I’m not really into the bar scene, never have been,” Vic pointed out.

  “Neither am I. But this chick I met at the tractor pull asked if I wanted to have a few beers with her and shoot some pool, and I’m not really sure I’m into it, so I figure, with you along, we can cut out early if things go south.”

  “If you’re expecting things to go south why did you even agree to meet up with her?” Vic asked.

  River gave him a sheepish smile. “If you knew my sister-in-law you wouldn’t have to ask. She introduced us and pretty much insisted I agree to meet up. To be interpreted as issued nonverbal threats on my life.”

  “So in other words, she gave you the glare of doom and you cowered like a little bitch so she wouldn’t kill you?”

  “Pretty much.” River laughed. “So will you help me out or what? Maybe we’ll even find you someone to hook up with; though I gotta admit to not being sure what you’re in to. I’ve never actually seen you with anyone.”

  Vic shrugged. “I don’t know. I really haven’t been looking. There was too much going on with Nicky and now work and…” Vic let out a long slow breath. “Guess I was sort of waiting to see what would happen after Terry and Nicky broke up. Figured I’d give Nicky some time and then…”

  “Oh shit,” River declared as Vic trailed off. “Man, that had to suck, living with them. How the hell did you manage it? I mean, seriously. I don’t think I could listen to someone I wanted to be with fucking someone else. I’d have been one serious bundle of pissed off all of the time.”

  “Yeah.” Vic nodded. “It was kinda hard to hide it sometimes. I guess I did a pretty shitty job of it too because Terry knew. He gave me shit about it the last few times we talked. Saying I must have been happy about how he screwed everything up since it gave me a chance to have Nicky.”

  “Guess he doesn’t know about Gray then?”

  Vic shook his head. “I don’t know. I hope he doesn’t. I wouldn’t put it past him to try and wreck that too. I always knew he was self-centered, but I never realized how much of a mean streak he had in him until Nicky got the sponsorship.”

  “Still, that’s gotta suck for you, knowing you’ve lost the chance to be with him, again. Or are you thinking Gray is just that temporary distraction?”

  “I did at first, but the way he stayed by Nicky through the accident and rehab proved it wasn’t some rebound thing. No, I finally had to face the fact that me and Nicky are just destined to be friends, which isn’t a bad thing at all; at least he’s in my life. But I guess that sorta means I’m on the market. So yeah, let’s hit the bar tonight and see what happens.”

  River grinned. “Perfect. Pull on a change of clothes and let’s go find some pasta. You know how much I hate bar food.”

  “Yeah, but pasta? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone eat as much of the stuff as you.”

  “What can I say? It’s cheap, filling, and there’s about a million different ways to make it.”

  Vic snickered, which got River to chuckling too.

  “Okay, when you put it that way,” Vic gasped. “It’s almost mildly disturbing.”

  “No, what’s mildly disturbing was both of us standing here thinking the same thing,” River stated. “I’d tell you to get your mind out of the gutter, but that would make me a hypocrite.”

  “Nah,” Vic said with a grin. “What it really says about both of us is that we need to get laid.”

  What they got instead was a whole lot of conversation. River’s “date” proved to be both flighty and flirty, and when River wasn’t so eager to bite, she turned her attention to the other guys in the bar. Not like River really minded once he and Vic started playing pool. River found himself having far more fun than a casual hook up. Though they’d shared the same friends for years, he and Vic had never really talked. They discovered they were both hockey fans, loved the Red Wings, but hated the Ducks. Both shared a passion for old music, though River’s secret pleasure was the blues while Vic liked to lose himself in classic Motown. River hated reality TV, preferring cartoons like Nicky, or the Discovery Channel like Vic, and he wrote song lyrics, sad sappy shit he thought up while sipping whiskey in his garage when he was supposed to be souping up his car. Vic loved to read and was a big fan of science fiction, the more teched out the better, while River found himself reading poetry: a fact he’d learned to hide from most of the guys at work, except Nicky.

  “I never could get him to read any on his own. I mean, if I showed him one he’d look at it, but mostly he just listened to me read it. Said it sounded better that way. I read him my lyrics too. It was nice to share them with someone who wasn’t going to give me shit for it. It was like he was another person when he wasn’t around Terry. Like his soul would open up and there would just be… I don’t know, more I guess.”

  “Yeah, I saw that too,” Vic admitted with a sigh. “Maybe we’ll see more of that when he comes back.”

  “I hope so.” River racked the balls.

  “You can show them to me if you want,” Vic offered.

  “Huh?” River glanced over, fingers poised over two balls, momentarily startled.

  “Your lyrics. I’d love to read them. That is if you don’t mind.”

  “Hell, seriously? That would be kinda awesome.” River grinned.

  Vic broke and they dropped into the steady rhythm of the game.

  “So do you sing or play an instrument or anything?” Vic asked as he sunk the twelve and started scanning the table for another shot.

  River shook his head. “Tried to learn piano and even tried the saxophone, but I never could get a good grasp on it. I just like music, man, but I hate the sound of my voice, so singing is out. The words are just sometimes there, you know, so I write them down. Not sure what to really do with it all.”

  “You should let someone take a look at them, someone who knows music. Who knows, we could be listening to something you wrote on the radio one day,” Vic declared.

  “I’m not sure whether to be inspired by that or scared shitless.” River laughed.

  “Be inspired,” Vic encouraged. “Hell, I’ll even let you read some of my ramblings sometime.”

  “You write songs?” River’s eyes widened.

  “Nah, nothing like that; though I’m trying my hand at a story. All those quiet hours alone with no one else in the house had me going stir crazy, and I had to think of some way to fill them. I had all of these notebooks left over from school, so I’ve just been filling them with dialogue and story ideas. I don’t really have a plot yet, or a firm grasp on the characters, but what can it hurt? At least I’m not drinking myself into oblivion.”

  “Yeah, there’s only so many nights a week you can get away with that,” River pointed out.

  “Tell me about it. It seemed like that was all I did after Nicky’s accident. Well, that and beat myself up over not having been able to prevent it.”

  “No one could have prevented it but Terry, and he chose not to. My grandfather used to say that the gods worked in mysterious ways. I’ve never been one for religion, but I’ve learned that I do believe in fate, and I think Nicky’s accident has changed all of us in some way.”

  “Yeah?” Vic leaned against the table next to River. “How has it affected you?”

  “Are you two gonna play or are you gonna stand around talking like a bunch of old hens?” a voice growled.

  ***

  Vic looked up to see that three men had surrounded the table
, all mid to late thirties, rough and intimidating. Not the kind of guys he had much interest in pissing off. Too bad the narrow-eyed, feral look that had crossed River’s face was telling Vic he had no such qualms. But then River wasn’t the science nerd Vic had always considered himself to be. He looked like he was just a few years away from resembling the burly men looming around them.

  “Actually,” River responded, and Vic could hear the smart-assed tone creeping into his voice, “we were just sitting here imagining how your mother would look stretched out across the ba—”

  Vic slapped one hand over his friend’s mouth, while grabbing him by the arm and propelling him toward the door.

  “Ignore him, he’s drunk. He didn’t mean anything by it,” Vic insisted as he pulled. “Table is yours, guys, enjoy your game.” He shoved River through the door and followed him out into the night.

  “Jesus Christ on a cracker, River, are you trying to get us killed?” Vic asked once they were safely in the car.

  Much to Vic’s dismay, River laughed at him. Neither had planned on leaving so soon and they both realized the quandary they were in at exactly the same time.

  “I know. I had too many,” River said as he held up his hand and started ticking off fingers.

  “I drank as many as you did, maybe one more while you were still dealing with that chick,” Vic said as he rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Man, I hope they don’t come after us,” River grumbled. They got out of the car to walk home.

  “Couldn’t you have thought about that before shooting your mouth off?” Vic asked. He locked up the four by four and stuffed the keys in his pocket.

  “Wanna go back to my place?” River offered. “It’s closer.”

  “Might as well.” Vic shrugged and glanced back, relieved to see that no one had followed them out of the bar. “Seriously though, three on two, and you just had to try and involve one of their mothers.”

  “Sorry, man, I don’t think sometimes. The truth is I got nervous, and I opened my mouth before my brain could tell me it wasn’t a good idea. I kinda owe you one for getting me out of there before one of them decided to use me for a pool cue.”

  “You’re not skinny enough,” Vic responded with a laugh.

  “I’m not straight enough either,” River shot back, laughing as well.

  That brought Vic up short. His mouth dropped open and his feet actually stopped moving. River had gone several steps before he realized that Vic was no longer walking beside him. He stopped and looked back.

  “What? What’s wrong? Gotta take a piss or something? Just pick a wall. No one’s out tonight.”

  “No, umm, nothing like that,” Vic said, shaking himself.

  “Then what?” River asked, clearly confused.

  “What you said, about not being straight enough. I, umm, it just shocked me is all.”

  “Oh.” River shrugged. “Ech. It ain’t everyone’s thing, but I believe in equal opportunity.”

  Vic just chuckled at that, but inside he was asking himself why it mattered, and why he was suddenly looking at River in a different light.

  ***

  It was late when Terry pulled into the dirt driveway of his father’s farm and killed the engine. The whirl of a power saw and barking dogs greeted him as he exited his truck. It had taken a lot of convincing from his grandparents to get him to head out here, and in the end, it was as much his curiosity that got him moving as any real desire to speak to his dad. Now that he was here, he thought about saying to hell with it, especially with growling masses of tan and brown fur blocking the path, but he seemed to be surrounded, or at least that was what the cold, hard snout thrust into his hand seemed to imply. He held still while he was pawed and inspected; but the dogs dismissed him when the wind blew a fresh scent their way. Terry hurried to find the source of the noise before the swarming mass of teeth and fangs returned. He found his father sawing one-inch thick slices off a tree trunk and adding them to a steadily growing pile. Not wanting to scare him, Terry stood in the doorway and watched until he was done.

  When his father set the saw aside and took off his goggles, Terry cleared his throat. “Hey, Dad, how’s it going?”

  For a moment, his father appeared startled. He wiped the sweat from his brow as he gazed at his son. “Been a long time, Terry. I’m guessing your Granny told you where to find me?”

  “Yeah, I, umm, just came from their place. Was kinda shocked you moved out here; it’s not the subdivision and all.”

  “It was time to be done with all of that,” Terry’s father admitted. “I’ve been kicking myself in the ass for how many years I spent worrying about how to take care of other people’s money. In the end, it left me with ulcers, high blood pressure, a broken marriage, and a kid who hates me. I’d have been better off raising you out here; at least maybe then you would understand the importance of working for things instead of getting them handed to you.”

  Terry sighed; the last thing he expected when he came here was a lecture. “I know that, okay?”

  “Knowing and showing are two very different things. Your grandfather used to tell me that all the time when I was growing up. I wish I’d listen, and I hope you’ll do the same.”

  Hanging his head, Terry slouched more, kicking himself for coming.

  His father wiped his hands on a rag and inspected the pile. “So, what led to you tracking me down, anyway?”

  “Life,” Terry muttered. “Mistakes. My past. I can’t race anymore, and working at the shop is just...it’s not working out. I’ve got some money saved, but I gotta figure out something permanent, and I was kinda hoping Grandma and Grandpa would let me stay with them for a little while, but they insisted I come talk to you first.”

  “Why don’t you tell me what’s been going on with you and then we’ll see if there’s anything I can do, but I’m warning you now, Terry, if you’ve got legal issues you’re going to have to handle them on your own. You’re too old for me to be bailing you out of that kind of jam.”

  “It’s nothing like that, I swear,” Terry explained. “It’s more personal.”

  “Okay, personal I can deal with. What could be more intense than you coming out of the closet, unless you’re going to tell me you’re straight. If that’s the case, just call yourself bisexual and be done with it.”

  Terry nearly doubled over with laughter at hearing that. “No Dad, I’m still firmly intent on dating guys, just... I wrecked my relationship with Nicky pretty badly and I’m kind of working on making sure something like that doesn’t happen again.”

  “You and Nicky had a falling out? Never expected that to happen to be honest; he always seemed like the one person you couldn’t manage to piss off. I always admired that about him.”

  “Turns out even he had his breaking point.”

  “Yeah?” Terry’s father asked as he opened a cooler and lifted out a couple beers. “Wanna tell me about it?”

  Terry told him everything over a six-pack, his dad’s expression changing from confusion to outrage by the time he was done.

  “Hell,” Terry’s father began, his voice low and measured. “You have me wishing I’d taken my belt to you more often when you were growing up.”

  Terry ducked his head. “Dad, you never took your belt to me.”

  “Well, that’s on me then, because you needed it. Wanna tell me what you think you’re going to accomplish staying out here? I mean, I’m just not sure what it is you’re thinking you’re going to find?”

  “Me,” Terry said, without hesitation. “I feel like I tied all of my self-worth to that bike and always needing to be better. Hell, at one point I remember thinking Nicky would have no reason to keep me around once he had the sponsorship. I was in a race to be the best for as long as I can remember. I don’t even remember when it stopped being fun, just that it did, and I need to find out what else I can do, and what I really want out of life.”

  For a while Terry’s father simply looked thoughtful, passing a bottle cap b
etween his hands as he studied his son. “I’ve got a spare room here,” he said at last. “Stoves are wood burning, so if you stay, you’ll have to help chop. Everything here is subsidy living. I grow my vegetables and raise or trap my meat. Hope you still like to fish. I eat a lot of it, and since you won’t be commuting you can help out in here and with the stand. You don’t like it, there’s the road. You slack off, there’s the road. You get mouthy or give me a hard time—”

  “I get it,” Terry said softly, but his tone was respectful. “There’s the road.”

  “Maybe if I’d been that strict with you when you were a kid you wouldn’t have turned into a little shit. Your grandpa never slacked off when it came time to put me in my place.”

  “Then why did you?” Terry dared to ask.

  “Mostly because I was being stupid and blind,” his father admitted. “Your mom always did like being the center of attention. To be honest, there were times I felt like she only had you for the attention she got for being pregnant. Once you came along and she realized it was actually the newborn that got fawned over, she started demanding more and more of my time. Taking her out, showing her off, showering her with things; she demanded I get you a nanny so she could run around with her horde of bored housewife friends. I hated the idea of a nanny, especially after the first one we tried seemed more content to watch our TV and eat our food than actually pay attention to you. That’s how you ended up at Granny’s, and I never should have taken you away from there either. I just really loved your mother and numbers, and figured I could find a way to balance both. The problem was it didn’t leave much room for you in the equation.”

  It hurt hearing it, but it wasn’t as if Terry hadn’t always known his mother had little interest in him. “So why’d you stay after you knew she was cheating?”