Cowboy Summer - 22. A Place No Longer Home

His room was not his room, the house was not the house he left, and when his mother had said ‘welcome home’ he’d felt nothing but empty.

The flight had been fine, and mostly he’d slept with his hat tilted down over his eyes, smiled at the stewards and stewardesses, and been generally polite. The pair of little kids sitting in the seats in front had spent as much of the flight as they could between films staring at him over the back of their seats with hugs eyes. He tipped his hat to them and giggles and murmurs of ‘a real cowboy!’ made a lot of people stare.

His parents had hired him a taxi from the airport, and Rhydian turned the brim of his hat around in his hands and made smaller talk with the driver for an hour or so. Another half hour, and they were pulling up in front of a house he didn’t recognise. The Markey family has moved into an old Georgian terrace, all red brick and tile work with narrow windows and a tall roof. Rhydian had smiled to see his parents waiting for him, his sister absent, back at university, and gotten a couple of hugs and a pat on the back from his father.

‘His’ room had been painted blue with a wide grey band half way up the wall. He could see why his mum thought it looked good. Laptop on the desk, his collected random knick-knacks arranged along a shelf that held a few books and a couple of DVDs. New bed, new wardrobe, new carpet and curtains, and none of it felt familiar or safe or anything like he wanted. He took off his boots and put them by the bed where they left a little smatter of north California red dust, and sighed. He was five thousand miles away from everything he loved. He opened up his phone, and rang Bryce.

“’lo?”

“Bryce?”

“Babe!” the sound of his boyfriend’s voice in his ear made his heart speed up and jump about in his chest, “You made it back OK? How’s England?”

“Did I wake you?” Rhydian checked the clock, and tried to count backwards, “What time is it?”

“Doesn’t matter babe. I’m so glad to hear you. How is everything?”

“I miss you.” It was the first they’d ever spoken without touching, and Rhydian jammed his free hand into his pocket to keep his fingers from itching, “It feels weird being here, not being with you.”

“You’ll be fine, it’s just a week. You been showing off to your folks yet?”

“No.”

“Go then,” He could feel Bryce’s smile, “Go show off. I’m proud to call you my boyfriend Rhyder. I love you.”

“Love you back.” Rhyder wished he could kiss they boy he loved, but he had to settle for hanging up the phone instead.

His mother was laying out plates for a cold meat and salad lunch when he got downstairs and Rhydian washed his hands, rolled his sleeves up to the elbow and hung his hat over the back of his chair.

“You need any help with anything mum?”

“Gosh you even sound American,” His mother handed him a water jug and some glasses. Rhyder was surprised to see most of the crockery was new too. It was like being in a hotel. “What have they been doing to your lovely accent over there Rhydian?”

Rhydian snorted, and sat down. His mother had always been a fan of The Queen’s English, had made sure that at least at home, he and his sister had ‘spoken properly’ but Rhydian had let Sam’s thick Texan accent and Caleb and Bryce’s soft north California turns of phrase invade and change the way he spoke.

“So tell us all about your trip,” His father came to sit on his other side, “You know, I’d swear you grew while you were over there. You look taller.”

“It’s all in the leg,” Rhyder smiled, “Riding like we do really stretch the muscles in your thighs and calves. And shit kickers mean you stand better.”

“Rhydian!”

“It’s what we call western boots mum.” Rhydian shook his head and rolled his eyes, “I had to buy a second pair to give the ones Claudine bought me a rest. They started to smell a bit.”

“You haven’t brought a lot back with you.” Rhydian bolted his dinner as his mother spoke, “Slow down Rhydian. Try and taste your food.”

“But I have to…” The rest of the sentence died on his lips. He didn’t have to get back out to round up goats, or clean the tack, or make up the dinners, scrub down Shura, do join-up, teach the new guests. He didn’t have to do anything, other than get out of here as quickly as possible. “I left most of my stuff at the ranch mum, there was no point bringing everything back, make going back easier.”

“Well at least you have plenty of clothes here to see you through.”

“How many pairs of jeans do you think I can wear in a week?” Rhydian frowned across the table. He put down his fork, pushed his chair back from the table just a little in preparation for the impending explosion.

“A week?” There is was, the tone was coming out, his mother believing she could take control of any situation by being firm and brow beating anyone who tried to express a differing opinion. “You are not leaving here after a week. Not a chance. You’ve got offers from several good universities and you are going to pick one and go there.”

“I have a place at FRCC.” Rhydian made a fist under the table, “I’m going back in a week. Semester starts second week of September.”

“I looked at that so-called university of yours. It’s nearly smaller than your school. There’s no way your passing up an opportunity to study at a place with history to go to somewhere that was founded after your father and I got married.” She barely even stopped to draw breath, “We agreed you would get a good all round degree. It will give you the best shot for your future. You think this ‘cowboy’ rubbish is going to support you for the rest of your life? It’s not that easy.”

“Stop.” His father had placed his cutlery down, a firm expression on his face, “When Rhyder was in California we agreed he could try.”

“He cannot move half way around the world because he thinks he’s love with some boy. It’s crazy.”

Rhydian stood, his chair tipping back with a thud onto the carpet.

“Well maybe I want crazy! Maybe crazy is fun. And I’m not going for Bryce. I’m going for Shura, and for Caleb and Sam and because I belong there.” Rhyder wrapped his hands around his head, “I can’t believe I’ve here just over two hours and already we’re fighting.”

“Rhydian…”

“Get over yourself mum. I’m going for a walk.”

“When will you be back?”

Rhyder growled.

“Later.” Well that had gone well.

*

He was swimming across the lake with Shura underneath him. He clung tight with his knees as the horse brayed, and Rhyder could make out Bryce standing on the distant shore. They swum faster and his hear soared. But Bryce wasn’t getting any closer, and the water was getting colder, darker, and choppy like the sea in a storm. They couldn’t reach him. Shura started to flounder and sag, all the big dapple horse’s energy giving out as he tried to swim for his human. Rhyder slid off his back, tried to help, but he couldn’t support the weight of the big horse, and Shura was sinking. The waves ripped them apart, and suddenly Rhyder didn’t care that he couldn’t get to Bryce, the boy was not as important as the relationship he was losing right then. He tried to shout, but his lungs filled up with water.

He woke sweating and shaking and completely lost. It took Rhyder a full minute to realise he wasn’t home in the little room under the roof, wasn’t at Bryce’s, and wasn’t sleeping out by the river or in the back of the truck. He wasn’t in his childhood home either. Once his brain had worked through all the possibilities and realised where he was, he promptly got out of bed and spent five minutes dry heaving over the toilet bowl. He felt awful, but his body wasn’t cooperating much. Back in ‘his’ room he used one hand to check that his passport was still safely under his pillow and laid back down on the bed.

Three days. He’d been in the new house for three days and hadn’t had a single conversation with his mother that didn’t end in shouting. She seemed to be unable to get it into her head he wasn’t staying, and he would not be going to university in the UK. Even his father was on his side, and for that at least, Rhyder was grateful as hell. The house was tense the whole time, and Rhyder spent as much time out of it as possible. His parents had moved, he had no friends nearby and most of them were gearing up to go to university anyway. He’d taken a day to get the train up and see his sister. Claudine had grilled him over a steak lunch about the ranch, about Bryce, about the horses. She thought he was mad to go back over there so soon, but she hugged him and wished him luck anyway.

Rhyder stared at the ceiling and thought about his boyfriend. He loved Bryce, but what he had said to his mother was true. If he had to pick between Bryce and Shura, the big horse would win every time. And he knew it was the same for Bryce with Indi. They had talked every day, sat up late at night on the web camera, but each time one of them had ended up close to tears with missing each other. Rhyder hated that he couldn’t hug or touch his boyfriend, couldn’t kiss him and run his fingers through the messy blond hair.

The clock said it was five in the morning. If he’d been home on the ranch, another hour of sleep would have been the first priority before the day began. But there was nothing to get up for. Maybe he would have gone out to the paddock, stroked Shura’s neck, murmured into the horse’s thick mane until he felt better and fallen asleep in the hay loft or at the empty breakfast table. But he wasn’t home, he was here, and there was nothing to do. Rhyder rubbed a hand over his bare chest. Working outside had given him definition he hadn’t had before, and he liked the way his body felt.

He thought about that last night with Bryce, on a blanket in the grass in the shadow of the big truck. Rhyder bit his lip to keep himself from moaning as he remembered Bryce smile, and his wicked fingers. They had traded pleasure back and forth until that was all there was. His boyfriend had been right, and it was better to remember the long night of hot kisses with the rumble of the freight train going by than to have wasted those memories on a quickie. It was five in the morning and he missed his boyfriend. Rhyder titled his head back, snuck his fingers under the waistband of his boxers and imagined his boyfriend in the double bed with him. Bryce’s heartbeat filled his ears and he missed the scent of apple shampoo. Rhyder closed his eyes, and brought himself off in the dark.

*

His mother went shopping at the weekend, and Rhyder went to go and find his father in the new study. His dad was behind his desk, the way Rhyder always thought of him, flicking through reams of numbers, his computer doing something technical and mathematic on the wooden surface.

“Dad.”

“Hey there cowboy,” His father leant back in his chair and smiled. Rhyder looked down at himself and wondered when putting on jeans and western shirts had become automatic for him. “What’s up Rhy?”

“Mum’s going to try and stop me from leaving isn’t she?”

“I’m afraid so son, she thinks all this is too much.”

Rhydian fingered the passport in his back pocket.

“Help me?”

His father smiled at him, and not for the first time, Rhydian wondered where this strong and involved version of his father had been his whole life.

“What do you need?”

It was amazing what you could do by web and by phone. His father helped him set up an international bank account until he got one in the US and moved all his money into it. When his father transferred an amount with several zero’s from another account, Rhyder blinked.

“Dad?”

“It’s yours. We gave your sister the same when she first left for university.”

“But that’s a lot of money.”

“Yeah, and you’re gonna need it. From what I can tell you’re going to need to support yourself and a horse? Buy a car maybe?”

“Two horses, and a truck. Not a car.”

“Right then. So you need the money, don’t be shy.”

Afterwards, they spent a while finding a flight for Rhyder to take back to Sacramento. His father paid for it and they booked him in for an evening flight, leaving in the late afternoon and arriving sometime midday the following day having lost eight hours by going backwards across the world. He was leaving on Tuesday. The sight of the flight number under his name made his heart soar.

He spent the rest of Sunday packing his gear. There wasn’t a lot he wanted, but his dad gave him a solid wall suitcase and together they folded up every pair of jeans he had, and all the t-shirts that weren’t made of holes. Winter coat, muck boots, thick socks, his laptop had a space in there too, a handful of books he actually liked. None of his school stuff made it in, until he realised he was actually going to university. So he packed a bunch of notebooks, pens and pencils and crap like that.

His mother came home with the shopping to find his suitcase lying by the bed, and went sort of ballistic for a while. Rhyder heard the tone, checked he had his phone and his passport, and walked out of the house. Two miles down the road on the outskirts of a town his didn’t know well, Rhyder sat down on a bench and put his head in his hands. He wondered if his stuff would have all been unpacked when he got home. Suddenly, he didn’t know if he was going to make it until Tuesday afternoon. His phone buzzed in his boot and he answered it without looking at the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey there pretty boy!”

“Jase?” Rhyder was shocked and delighted to hear his friend’s voice in his ear, “Dude, what’s up?”

“I was gonna ask you the same thing. When the hell you coming back? We missed you on Friday.”

“You go set something else on fire?” Rhydian chuckled, “Tell me you didn’t all end up sleeping in the trucks again?”

“Nah, just David passed out in the grass again.”

“Again?” Rhyder repeated, “And who drew a moustache on him this time?”

“Bryce did.”

Rhyder laughed, and the noise surprised him. He hadn’t laughed since he’d left.

“You’d better be being nice to my boyfriend.” He felt suddenly possessive and jealous. Jase and the guys were hanging out in fields, drinking and dancing and setting things on fire while he was stuck on another continent.

“Cowboy’s honour,” He could hear Jase’s open, honest laugh, “Caleb and Sam made sure he got home alright. When are you coming on back Rhyder?”

“I got a flight out on Tuesday evening. Should be coming into Sacramento Wednesday mid-morning.”

“We’ll make sure you get a welcoming party buddy. Everything else OK over there?”

Rhyder sighed and shook his head.

“You don’t wanna know Jase. It sucks.” He proceeded to tell his friend all about the issues surrounding his mother

“Well, you tell your parents I need my outrider back. Season is starting proper and State is in two weeks bud. I’ll give you twenty percent for being my hazer.”

“Same deal for you Jase.”

“How’s that kiddo?” He could almost see Jase’s confusion, “You need to be registered for State and have a bunch of qualifying rides.”

“Unless you get an invite.” Rhyder sat back on the bench, boot resting on one knee, feeling smug, “I won the County Open. My invite to State came through just before I left.”

“You jammy little sod!” Jase was laughing.

“You bet.”

“I gotta go pretty boy, see you Wednesday.”

Rhyder walked home with his thumbs hooked into his belt loops and his hat drawn low over his eyes. Halfway home a group of girls coming out from the centre of town whistled at the cowboy and smiled, flicking their hair and flirting. Rhyder touched the brim of his hat and walked on. He smiled to himself, secretly liking that they thought he was foreign and strange. His stuff was still packed when he got home, and instead of sleeping, Rhyder sat up late on the web camera talking to first Sam and Caleb and Moreta about his flight details, and later to Bryce until he could barely keep his eyes open. He said goodnight to his boyfriend in a sleepy eyed stupor, and only in the morning realised he’d forgotten his lover’s name and said ‘I love you Shura’ instead.

*

It was Tuesday. He was leaving. And his visa paperwork to take to the embassy was gone. Gone.

Rhyder snarled as he tossed all his belonging out of his carry-on kit bag. The sheaf of papers, all signed by himself, supporting statements from Caleb for his sponsorship and the letter of attendance from FRCC had been sitting in the bag underneath the knotted head collar he’d made for Shura. He hadn’t been able to sleep without touching it first for a few nights now, the only physical symbol he had the horse he loved with all his heart really existed. And now, the sheaf of papers wasn’t there. Inexplicably.

After going through everything he’d touched in the last five days he rounded on his mother.

“Well why would I know where you put your silly paperwork Rhydian?” Hand in her hip, she rolled her eyes like he was still a forgetful eleven year old trying to find his tie for school.

“Well it didn’t get up and wander off by itself!” Rhyder kicked the new parquet floor of the hallway with his boots, leaving a scuff mark that would drive his mother mad until she could get the floor polish out, “Where is it?”

“You think I took it?” She put a hand to her chest, shocked by his accusation, “Rhydian how could you say such a thing?”

“Easily!” The cowboy snapped, “You’ve done nothing but complain and express your horror at my decision to move back to California.”

“Well, if you think this rodeo stuff is going to-”

But Rhydian cut her off.

“I’m an adult mum. I’m going. Today. With or without your blessing and with or without the paperwork.”

“But without the visa application, you can’t go!” The desperation in her voice was the tell-tale sign she was lying which Rhyder had been looking for. He stuck his thumbs in his belt and snorted with derision.

“I don’t have to file for the visa while I’m here. It just makes the process easier and means less cross Atlantic phone calls. But I don’t have to. I can apply for it all while I’m out there. All of those bits of paper are easy to re-create.”

“B-but…”

“Don’t you get it mum? They want me out there. I’m needed. I got recruited to the college by a scout, I wasn’t looking to go. Caleb offered to have me stay, he gave me the horses. I didn’t ask. Not once.”

“You’re that good?”

Rhydian took off his hat, ran his fingers through his recently buzzed hair and set the felt back on his head.

“Yes mum. I have an invite to the State Rodeo in a couple of weeks. You guys can even watch it on TV if you want. I won’t win, but the top five all get prize money.” Rhyder sighed, and offered his mother a small smile, “This really is what I’m supposed to do mum.”

“Oh…” Shoulder’s sagged, and a look of concern passed over her features, “What do you mean you won’t win?” There was the voice Rhyder recognised. The demand of his mother he should do his best and succeed in everything he did, “If you’re going to be a rodeo cowboy you’d better stop thinking with such a defeatist attitude.”

“Yes mum.” Rhyder hugged his mother with one arm, “Does this mean I can have my visa paper work back? I have to take a train to the embassy.”

*

Rhyder waited in line at check in, answered all the inane security questions the girl behind the desk could think off, and checked in his hold bag. Then he went and stood in line at security, put all his liquids (being nothing but toothpaste) in a clear Ziploc bag and had his bag, boots, belt and hat scanned as he went through the metal detector. Getting dressed on the other end, he saw one of the security attendants elbow his co-worker and grin.

“Dude thinks he’s a cowboy.”

“Pffft!”

Rhyder picked up his bag, checked his boarding pass and walked on over.

“Rhyder Markey, winner of the Plumas County Open bulldogging competition,” He put on his best pretending-to-be-Sam accent, “I ride for the FRCC rodeo squad. Nice to meet ya.” He grinned at the stunned looks on their faces, tipped his hat, and walked on through to the departure lounge.

He hadn’t left a lot of time to wait for his flight. Just enough to stock up on fruit gums and get a bottle of water before lining up for the plane. In his seat, he stowed his bag overhead, and sat with Shura’s head collar in his lap. People stared, he nodded and smiled in the easy way that had come with living at Iron Hill Lake, and didn’t mind. He was a cowboy. When he got back to California, he was going to be a foreign cowboy, but officially or not, Rhyder didn’t plan on being classed as foreign for long.

He sat back in his seat as the flight attendant began her welcoming message and crossed his boots. They’d seen a lot of action those boots. They sagged now when he wasn’t wearing them. They were no longer able to stand up under their own weight of creased leather. He pulled his black, pinch fronted, broad brimmed felt hat down over his eyes, remembering the moment Sam had turned with a smile and shout and stuffed it on his head. It felt like years ago, not weeks. ‘Now you’re a cowboy.’

As the engines started up, Rhyder Markey smiled to himself. It had taken him a summer to become a cowboy, and though he might fly to England every now and again, in his heart, he was never coming back. He closed his eyes, and dreamt of Shura.