Bolton, Texas. 2 years ago
The seasons were starting to change again. The air was cooler than it had been in months. That just meant that it was finally a reasonable temperature instead of the blazing Texas summer we had all been suffering through. The change in the weather signaled a few things, the start of school, which was last month, and the beginning of football season. My dad, my brother Adam, and I had been football fans since birth. But this season was different, this season Adam was going to be on the field.
When I got home I knew I had to feed the horses and do my other barn chores, then get ready for his game. This was the first home game of the season and we all were a little too excited for Adam's liking. He was easily embarrassed and didn't want us to make a big deal out of it - so we made it a huge deal.
Dad and Ezra had been fixing a fence on the east side of the ranch this afternoon. Both of them were sore and sweaty by the time they got back. I had just finished mucking out the stalls when they lead their horses in. I leaned against the rake I had in my hands.
"Did you ever reach any kind of agreement with the jackasses next door?" I asked dad.
"Savannah, language," he scolded as he took off his hat and ran his hand through sweaty dark hair.
The fence separating our land from the Thompson's farm had finally collapsed. We didn't know about it until Mr. Thompson came storming over here one afternoon, angry that our cattle had gotten onto his fields. The agreement Mr. Thompson's father and my grandparents had was that if the fence were to ever need repairs, we would split the cost down the middle. That time has arrived and now they are refusing to pay.
"No, we didn't. The stubborn bastard says that since its our cattle, its our fence to pay for," he answered.
"I still say that if they want our cattle off their cotton so bad, they should help pay for the fence. It isn't just our fence if it's benefiting their ass too. If they want our cattle to eat up all their crop, they can keep being difficult. Why do we bother fixing the fence and paying for it in full?" Ezra chimed in. Dad would never admit it, but I knew that he and Ezra had this special bond. Ezra is the oldest and looks exactly like Dad in just about every way, they even act similar. They've always been close, closer than I've ever been to either of my parents.
"I'll talk to him about it again soon. We can't get into it with them. We can probably come to some agreement eventually. I just wish the guy would respect what his father promised," Dad added. "Let's just finish up here so we can head to the game. There's supposed to be a good turn out tonight, we'd better get there early for good seats!" he smiled. His excitement was almost contagious. We all hurried to finish our chores and head inside to shower and get ready.
My grip on the little bag of popcorn was tightening. All of us were frozen staring at the field. I could feel my heart beating in my chest.
"Interception by Adam Montgomery," the announcer yelled into the microphone. Dad stood up and whistled, while the rest of us hollered. Adam was running with the ball towards the endzone, but the excitement was short lived.
We all cringed as Adam was tackled to the ground 20 yards away from a touchdown.
"There is no way that guy is in high school! What's he weigh, 280?" Dad complained, a little too loudly for our liking. His accent even more pronounced in the heat of the moment. He sat down in a huff as Mom grabbed his hand, trying to calm him down.
"I still think this sport is too violent. Why couldn't we have convinced him to play basketball like Ezra? No one gets hurt in basketball," Mom complained. She moved to adjust her umbrella. Mom didn't like being in direct sunlight.
"He's fine Olivia. Getting taken down every once in a while builds character. We wouldn't want him to go around thinking he's invincible, would we?"
"God forbid," Ezra remarked with an eye roll. He reached over and stole a handful of my popcorn. I yanked it away and sent him a glare. "Remember how bruised up I got in basketball Mom? Besides, convincing Adam to quit football is like convincing the sun not to rise in the east every mornin', and you know it," he continued.
"Speaking of the sun, honey the sun is going down, you don't need the umbrella anymore," Dad said, motioning to the thing blocking the view of the people sitting behind us.
"It'll still be up for at least another 45 minutes. I don't want to end up with leathery skin like you, cowboy. And you know I burn easily," Mom laughed.
"You'll always be stunning to me darlin', even if you look like a leather glove," he teased. Ezra and I fake gagged behind them. I don't think Mom will ever look anything but gorgeous. She has a few gray hairs framing her face, but they blend in with her silky blonde waves beautifully. Adam and I got her hair, thank God, instead of Dad and Ezra's dark unmanageable curls.
"You two are disgusting," I complained.
"You know when I lived in California, people played baseball, or basketball, and no one broke any bones!" she continued. Her umbrella shaking with the forceful words.
"This isn't California, honey. We play football here, good luck convincing anyone to do otherwise," Dad laughed.
"Mom, he's fine. You know how hardheaded he is. It would take a lot more than a tackle to ever dent that iron skull," I said with a laugh, looking back to the field. They were all in a huddle, the game was going to be close, but we might be able to pull a win.
"Savy, please promise me that you won't play a dangerous sport," Mom begged me. I smiled at her concern. She cared about us all a little too much for her own good. Working the ranch has its dangers and sometimes we would all come home to her pacing the porch outside when she thought we had been out too long. That's probably the reason for the tiny little crow's feet around her blue eyes. But I'd like to think it's her smile that caused them.
"I can promise that I won't play football mom," I answered. Ezra chuckled beside me and I kicked him lightly. The ref's whistle flew through the air, bringing our attention back to the game.
"I told you he was going to be good! I think we've got a champion in the family, Olivia!" Dad said excitedly as we all walked onto the field. Adam played really well tonight, better than we expected honestly. The team lost, but Dad was still so happy. We all took pictures with Adam, which he hated, but tolerated.
"We lost, I don't see the point of taking pictures. We don't want to remember this," Adam complained.
"In a few years we wont remember who won or lost, we'll just remember that you played so well in your first home game!" Mom beamed.
A few minutes later, Adam's coach was calling him back to the locker room. Apparently, he had some speech for them. Probably something to keep their spirits up or more likely to chew them out for loosing. Adam was going home with a friend tonight, so we didn't wait up for him. We all piled in Dad's pickup and started the drive back to the ranch.
My memories of everything after that are a little blurry. I remember listening to a really old country song on the radio. I hated this song; it was too depressing. I remember my parents holding hands over the console. Dad and I talking about our favorite parts of the game and how horrible the ref's were. But weren't they always? I remember Ezra mentioning the Thompson fence as we drove past the lights of the small town and into the dark ranch land outside it. Then I remember looking over at him and my heart stopped. There were two headlights barreling towards Ezra and Mom's side of the pickup. Then there was the sound of bending metal and breaking glass. I remember time slowing down and not being able to do anything. I looked out the window and saw the world spinning. Then everything stopped.
I first became conscious when I was still in the car. The world was motionless again and it was quiet. Very quiet. We were upside down, I knew that immediately. I couldn't see my parents. My heart began to race and I couldn't breathe. Where are they? Were they thrown from the vehicle? Are they just out of my sight? I only saw the headlights of our pickup shining into a field. My neck ached as I turned and looked over at Ezra. There was a lot of blood on his face and he wasn't moving. He wasn't moving. I slowly reached over to him. A sharp pain spread as I extended my arm. I didn't have much strength. I grabbed his hand and squeezed it as hard as I could. Then the darkness pulled me under.