White Meat: A BWWM Romance

by Tyla Walker

  “This is what I want for my son.” I stared at the hand-lettered page, yet another rodeo ad.

  “I don’t see—”

  “Just goddamn read it!” He hurled it down on the table. Nathan’s little brow furrowed and he dropped his eyes to his apple. He hated it when Daddy yelled.

  I smoothed out the crinkled page. The ad promised a $25 prize to the winner of The Best Mutton Buster in Town contest, to be held on the rodeo grounds next weekend.

  “Are you gonna enter?”

  “Gawd, woman. How can you be so pretty and so DUMB?” Andrew explained that mutton busting is a competition for kids eight to twelve years old. “They wrassle sheep, and they win good money doin’ it.”

  “Wait. Are you saying you want Nathan—”

  “OF COURSE I WANT NATE TO DO IT!” He stomped in a circle, waving his arms in exasperation. “Whattya you think, I want YOU to do it?”

  “No, Andrew.”

  “Huh?” That stopped him short.

  “No son of mine is gonna chase some big ewe around a ring while the crowd eggs him on to hurt himself, or the sheep. It’s not safe. He’s not doing it.”

  “How can it not be safe? IT’S A GODDAMN SHEEP!”

  “And you said it’s for kids eight to twelve. Nathan’s too young.”

  Andrew’s face flushed red and sweaty, as it did whenever he didn’t get his way. And the hotter he got, the cooler I got. It was as if a switch flipped inside me, and I turned to ice.

  “No, Andrew. That’s final.” Andrew’s jaw clenched. He turned to Nate.

  “Beat it, boy.” Nate’s eyes widened and he looked at me. I touched his hand, sticky with apple.

  “Go play Spiderman in your room, honey. I’ll come get you when we’re done.”

  Nate slid off the chair and disappeared silently down the hall, turning once to catch my eye. But I couldn’t reassure him. Things were about to get ugly, and we both knew it.

  “You’re ruining that kid. He’s a soft little sissy ‘cause of you.”

  “He’s a good boy, Andrew. He just doesn’t like the rodeo.”

  “You poisoned him against it! He MIGHT like it, but you scared him off.” Here he slipped into the high-pitched, singsong voice he used to mock any female speech. “Oh, it’s so rough, Nate, it’s so scary, you could get a concussion—”

  “Andrew, that’s true. How many concussions have you had?”

  “AND I TURNED OUT FINE, DIDN’T I?” he spat.

  And so it went. Another evening of raised voices, broken furniture, and one frightened little boy, listening in the shadowed hall until Daddy banged out the front door. Until I laid my bruised head on the kitchen table, and made a vow. I will never allow anyone to endanger my son, so long as breath moves through my body.

  “Cindy?” Hank’s voice tickles my awareness.

  “Sorry.” I blink, clear my throat, massage it with both hands. How long have I been away?

  “You were gonna tell me…?”

  “It’s not important. I just have this weird feeling that Andrew might take Nate to the Rodeo Arena.”

  “There’s no show tonight. Just some guys drinking beer and practicing their falls.”

  “But there’ll be animals there.”

  “Sure, some.” Hank’s hands tense on the wheel. “Why?”

  “I think he might put Nate on a bull.”

  Hank grimaces.

  “And no, Nate’s never ridden before. He’s terrified of bulls.”

  “Hang on.” Hank pushes the accelerator to the floor, tires squealing in surprise.

  The Rodeo Arena’s parking lot is nearly empty. Nearly. Next to the tall front gates crouch a handful of beaten-up trucks, one missing a headlight, another with a long, rusted scrape on the driver’s side.

  In the center of the pack sits Andrew’s pride and joy. His big, black Ford F150, spotless and dent-free, chrome trim gleaming in the afternoon sun, trailer hitch dangling a pair of novelty steel testicles. How can he afford that truck when he can’t pay child support?

  I do a quick scan, but see no people. Only trucks. Hank parks a couple spaces down.

  “Should we tell the cops what’s up?”

  But I barely hear him. As soon as the car stops rolling, I throw open the door and run, legs pumping, hair streaming out behind me. I reach the ten-foot-tall gate, grab the bars with clawed hands, and pull so hard my back spasms.

  The gate cranks open just enough for me to squeeze through.

  Feet pound behind me. Hank’s there. I glance at him, and he waves me on.

  Hang on, baby boy. Mama’s coming.

  Twenty-Seven

  Hank

  “Oh, my god, Hank. They’re here!” Cindy grips the dashboard tightly as we pull up next to Andrew’s truck. A dreaded wave of relief washes over me, knowing that Cindy’s intuition was right all along but fear for Nate’s condition with his insane father.

  Cindy’s hands tremble as she gets out of the car. She gets to Andrew’s truck first as she quickly checks the windows if anyone is inside. To our disappointed expectation, there was none. There’s just only one place that Andrew and Nate can be right now.

  “They’ve gotta be inside!” exasperates Cindy as she tries to dash the dark and empty arena. There aren’t any shows for tonight, making it the perfect environment for Andrew to do what he wants with Nate.

  “Wait,” I ask Cindy as I hold Cindy by the arm, “I’ll go on first to see if there’s any danger. Things might only get complicated if you’re there, especially in the condition you’re in, Cindy.”

  Cindy glares at me, “What are you talking about, Hank? Nate needs me! Let me go!”

  “Cindy, please. You panicking is probably what Andrew wants. We need to keep a cool mind and think about this.”

  Finally, my words calm Cindy down as she nods to me.

  “Thank you now; call the police and wait for them while I go on ahead. I promise you, I’m going to get Nate safe and sound and, I will call you as soon as everything is safe and clear.”

  Cindy looks up at me with tears in her eyes, “You promise?”

  “I promise.”

  Cindy gazes deep into my eyes before she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls my lips towards hers. Parting from her kiss is almost painful as it is sweet.

  “You get back here in one piece as well, you hear?” she threatens.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I confidently reply before dashing towards the arena.

  The hallway to the arena is dark and quiet, but I see slivers of light permeating from the entranceway’s end. As I quietly dart over through the open door and into the open rodeo arena, I hear loud whipcracks getting louder and a familiar sobbing that stabs fear into my heart.

  Andrew stands in the middle of the dirt arena, all suit up in his rodeo gear and flashy white cowboy hat. His shirt dons the red, white, and blue of this great country, while the spurs of his boots graze the ground as he lashes his whip through the cold night.

  “Daddy, stop. I’m scared,” cries Nate as I finally spot him in one of the chutes, sitting on top of a massive and clearly agitated ebony bronc. Darleen fastens a helmet on Nate on the saddle and makes sure that he can’t run away.

  “He’s good to go, Drew-drew!” she screams back.

  Andrew puffs up his chest and lets out another loud whipcrack in the air, “That’s it, son! That there fear is just what you be needin’ to ride nature’s fury. You’ve got mah blood in ya, boy. And once your momma’s gonna see how I made you into a proper cowboy, she’ll surely take me back! And finally, we can be one happy family.”

  This guy’s batshit insane; the only thing he’s after is Cindy’s financial support. And if I don’t do something quickly, Nate’s going to get trampled by that bronc!

  But something crosses in the corner of my eye.

  Rampaging stomps grow louder as Dwayne charges towards me from the stands with his fluffy arms raised in the air; he must have been on the look-out to make sure no one disturbs Andrew.<
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  I try to evade his grip, but the fat lummox is surprisingly agile and wraps his large arms around me and lifts me two feet off the ground in a painful bear hug.

  My screams of pain get the attention of Andrew, “Well, look who decided to sneak in the rodeo. Doncha’ know it’s bad taste for a cowboy to watch a rodeo without buying tickets? Well, might as well enjoy your first-row seat to my boy’s rodeo debut, asshole.”

  “He’s your son, you bastard…” I scream back as hard as I can with what little breathing room I still have.

  “And that’s why he won’t grow up to be some nerdy little bitch, Hank. So shut the fuck up and let the real cowboys do their thing!”

  Andrew raises his hand, “Get ready to open the gate, Darleen!”

  Almost all the life in Nate’s eyes gets sucked out as he begs for his father to stop this madness. But Andrew only smiles maliciously as he glares at his son.

  The same eyes that Pa gave me before he slapped me away when he and Ma were fighting.

  Never again.

  “No!” I scream out as a burning wave of rage coarse through my body. I snap my head back and feel Dwayne’s nose cartilage crush. He curses in pain and instantly lets me go before stammering behind me.

  I madly dash towards Andrew, cocking my fist in the air. But he turns towards me and snaps his whip towards me.

  A searing pain blazes through my chest. The whip tears through my shirt while the sheer force tumbles me to the ground, just in front of Andrew’s boots.

  “Open it!” Andrew happily commands Darleen. The chute opens, and Nate hangs on for dear life as the bronc kicks and heaves to get him off the saddle.

  “No!” I scream out as I get up and swing my clenched fist at Andrew, who was distracted by his crying son. Andrew drops to the ground with his back towards me.

  “Wait! I give up. You’re the better man, Hank!” grovels Andrew as he puts both his hands behind his head.

  “Call off the bronc, Andrew. Now! Before your son gets…”

  But before I can finish, Andrew throws sand in my eyes and punches me straight on the jaw. The world gets dizzy as I fall on my back, no longer able to move my body.

  Andrew gloats at me overhead as he takes a knife out of his boot and lightly grazes it on my neck. “This will be the last time you interfere with my family and me, bastard. Goodbye, Hank.”

  But Andrew stops when he notices something’s wrong.

  It’s too quiet. The bronc’s neighs nor Nate’s screams no longer fills the air.

  If anything happened to Nate, I’m going to make you pay, Andrew! I scream in my mind as I try to move my unresponsive body.

  “Nate?” Andrew asks as he turns around.

  It’s only then that two massive hooves collide with Andrew’s face and sends him flying a few feet away from us. When I finally catch my breath, Nate smiles at me on top of a calm black horse.

  “Nate?” I ask, surprised at how calm the bronc has become, “How did you…”

  “What are you waiting for? Get him!” Andrew interrupts from behind us. To my horror, Dwayne, with a bloody nose, charges towards Nate and me.

  And I don’t think I have what it takes to take him on any longer with my battered body.

  I step in front of Nate and brace myself, “Run, Nate. With that horse, you can easily get back to your momma. I’ll hold ‘em off for as long as I can.”

  But instead of sobbing and crying, Nate giggles back at me, “She’s already here, silly.”

  What?

  A loud gunshot pierces through the air, and a voice from a loudspeaker from the entranceway blares at us.

  “This is Sheriff Walter. Andrew Raymond Brautigam, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in a court of law. And if you try to resist, you will be shot on-site. So please, make my day and resist.”

  A dozen deputies flood through the arena and surround Dwayne and Andrew.

  Dwayne holds one of his hands in the air and one on his bleeding nose, “Godfuckingdammit.”

  “Nate!” screams Cindy as she breaks through the crowd.

  “He’s here!” I scream back.

  “Hank! Thank the lord both of you are safe!” she happily runs at us. Until she sees Nate on top of the black horse.

  “Look, Ma, I made a new friend,” Nate shouts back gleefully. The black mare snorts and trots around in a circle. “I’mma call him Robin. Can I keep him?”

  “But that’s such a bitch-ass name!” complains Andrew as a deputy puts handcuffs on his wrists. “And just when you did the impossible and tamed a bronc, son!”

  “That’s okay, Drew-drew,” interrupts Darleen as she gets rounded up with Andrew and Dwayne, “You’ve still got me.”

  “Oh, will you just shut up,” snaps Andrew as they get led out of the arena.

  “Thanks for bringing the cavalry,” I say to Cindy before clutching my chest in pain.

  “Jesus, Hank!” says Cindy as she runs over to me and assists me in walking, “Are you okay?”

  “Now, I am, thanks to Nate here,” I whisper to her before turning to Nate, “Good job, cowboy. You’re my hero.”

  Nate lights up as he and Robin walk alongside Cindy and me, “Just like Batman?”

  I nod as I give him a high-five, “Just like Batman.”

  Twenty-Eight

  Cindy

  “And then the pendejo got the bejeezus kicked out of him by El Negro and sent him straight to the stands, man,” claims Ernesto as he regals us the story of how Nate saved my life.

  Hank, Uncle James, Nate, Ashley, and the rest of the kitchen staff are gathered on a makeshift table outside Ma’s house on a beautiful cloudless Sunday evening while Ma prepares our dinner. It’s been a week since Andrew kidnapped Nate, but it is still on everyone’s mind.

  “What? The arena’s a hundred feet in diameter!” argues Uncle James, “There’s no way Andrew would’ve survived a kick like that! But tell you what, I’d pay good money to have seen that.”

  “I’m telling you, holmes, that’s what happened,” continues Ernesto, “I saw the miracle with my own two eyes; God came down in the form of El Negro and saved Hank. How else could you explain it?”

  Hank almost answers the question until I nod my head slightly at him.

  After the incident, Hank and I decided to keep Nate’s talents a secret for now and let him have the childhood he wants to have. If Andrew was really right that Nate is destined to become a great bull rider like him, then Nate will definitely decide that for himself once he gets older.

  I just pray that whatever kind of man my child grows up to be, he’ll be more like Hank than his father.

  Nate puts his Batman comic down when things start to get quiet, “Mommy, what’s a ‘pendejo’?” I angrily glare at Ernesto while everyone else is too busy to think of a good explanation.

  With everyone mumbling for an explanation, I turn to my son, “You’re going to understand a lot more things when you get older, baby. So, how about for now, why don’t you go with Hank and the others and play some football?”

  “Yey!” exclaims Nate as he runs off into Rebecca’s house.

  “It’s on top of the piano, sugar,” Rebecca shouts as she leaves the house with a huge plate of tacos in her hands, “Here comes the appetizer!”

  Juan, Miguel, and Ernesto immediately leap off of their chairs when Rebecca puts the huge plate on the table.

  “Oh, Mrs. Kingford, you truly know a way to a man’s heart,” compliments Ernesto, even though his eyes are glued to the plate.

  Rebecca’s eyes light up, “Well, don’t be a shy neighbor and dig in!”

  “Here it is!” Nates shouts as he comes running out of the house with the football in his hand, “Let’s go, guys!” He turns towards the open field of grass on the opposite side of Rebecca’s house.

  And just before Juan, Miguel, and Ernesto could grab a piece, Hank drags them both towards Nate, “You heard the little man.”


  “But the tacos!” Ernesto and Juan complain as they slowly look as they grow farther and farther away from the table.

  “Well, don’t mind if I do,” says Uncle James as he takes a taco and devours it in seconds. “Why, these tacos are out of this world, Rebecca. Interested in cookin’ in the Burnet High?”

  “Uncle James! Rebecca’s still recovering,” I scold.

  “Why I’d sure love to!” answers Rebecca, “As long as there are no leftovers for tonight.”

  “Ha! It’s in our family policy to never leave leftovers,” boasts Uncle James, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, ladies. I have a football game to watch, and my grand nephew is playing.”

  Uncle James then gets up, takes the plate of tacos, and follows the boys’ rest. Ashley blows her lid off, complaining about the boys not leaving any food for us.

  “Well, if it’s food that you’re looking for, then why don’t you pretty ladies help me inside?” suggests Rebecca.

  “Uhm, see, that’s not really my thing, Mrs. Kingford,” answers Ashley, “So, I think I’m gonna go and play as the cheerleader for their game.” She immediately dashes off before I could have any say in the matter.

  “Well, it looks like it’s just going to be you and me, Cindy. What do you say?” asks Rebecca.

  My heart is beating extraordinarily fast. I’m speaking to Hank’s mother, after all. But I feigned confidence with every ounce of strength in my voice, “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Helping Rebecca out isn’t really as difficult as I expected it to be. Rebecca does most of the cooking and only asks me for help when she can’t reach for a certain ingredient or needs from the other room.

  But what is strange is that while she cooks, she tells me everything about the food, from the number of spices to the duration of cooking.

  “Rebecca,” I interrupt, “Why are you telling me all this? These are your family secret recipes.”

  “Ain’t it obvious yet?” remarks Rebecca, “Cindy, I’ve never been happier that Hank finally met a decent woman like you. Before he met you, Hank had this carefree yet lost attitude. But now, he’s the most determined man that I’ve ever seen. And I have you to thank for that, so you better do a good job of taking care of my son, you hear? Or I’m gonna turn over my grave and haunt you.”