MY HANDS GRIP THE 30-pound dumbbells tighter as I extend down on the last rep of my shoulder presses. “Damn that hurts.” My grip is too weak; just like it was last night on Young Gun. That damn bull thought he had me, but I gave my 8 seconds and got the hell off him. It felt like he was shredding my shoulder muscle into mincemeat. I crash landed upside down when I jumped off him, right onto my mangled shoulder.
I felt that burn for hours after the competition and long into the night; so much so that the pain got me up early this morning. Thinking a nice, long workout might stretch the muscle and soothe the problem before we hit the road today; I went to the gym early. Guess not— it still aches like a bitch. I drop the weights onto the mat and take a seat on the bench. My phone vibrates on the seat, and I look to see my son Rowan’s face on the screen.
“Hey, Buddy. How’s it going? You heading to school?”
“Dad. Dad,” he’s breathless on the other end of the line like he’s running for his life, “you gotta help her, but don’t call the cops.” His frantic voice pierces my heart, and I have a sinking feeling that he’s talking about his mother again.
“Slow down, Rowan. Calm down, and tell me what’s happening?” My mind is racing as I jump up from the bench seat and use the tale of my shirt to wipe the sweat from my face. I pace the floor stopping every few seconds to switch ears to hear him better. It sounds like he keeps repeating her name through his heavy breathing, but it’s all muffled noise coming through the phone. “Rowan. Rowan. Are you there? Talk to me.” Damn it; he must have set the phone down.
“Dad, I’m here. She’s slumped over the steering wheel, and I can’t wake her up.”
Jesus Christ. I can hear the panic rising in his voice with every second that passes. He’s only seven for God’s sake. Why does she do this shit to us?
“Rowan, tell me what’s been going on this morning? Is she sick again?”
“I don’t know, Dad. She was grouchy when I ate breakfast. Then she was fine right before we left for school. We stopped at the stop sign at the Michelson’s farm, and when we started moving again, we just rolled right into the ditch. I looked up to see why we were off the road and I watched her fall forward. Help her Dad, but please don’t get her in trouble.”
“Okay, Buddy. Give me a second to find another phone.”
I race out of the makeshift gym the PBR sets up for us circuit riders to see a mostly empty parking lot that’s full of trailers. It’s breakfast time at least; some people should be up and about. I just pray I don’t run into anyone I dislike at this moment.
“I need to use someone’s phone. It’s an emergency. Does anyone have a phone I can use?” I holler out to anyone that can hear me. Several people gawk and stare, but mostly they just keep on walking, minding their own business and not wanting to get messed up in my problems. I understand. I don’t want to be in my problems either.
As I pass Bill’s trailer, he’s the manager around here, he and a red-headed woman come outside just as I finish hollering to use a cell phone again. She turns to shake Bill’s hand, but I approach them a little too quickly and startle her, watching her pull her purse closer to her side. “Lady, do you have a cell phone I can use? It’s an emergency.”
“Um, sure, but it looks like you have a phone already?” I watch her eyes dart to my phone that I’m holding to my chest. She shakes her head in confusion but reaches into her purse and pulls her cell phone out, hesitating as she opens her palm and presents it to me.
“Brax, is everything alright?” Bill asks.
“It will be once I make a few calls. Thanks,” I say, taking the phone from her hand and nodding in kind.
I lift my phone to my ear and speak softly to ease his fears. “Rowan. Rowan, are you there? I’ve got a phone now. Give me a few seconds, and I’ll call 9-1-1 for help.”
“No, Dad. Not 9-1-1. They’ll send the cops and arrest her.”
“Buddy, I have to call 9-1-1 for the ambulance to bring her the medicine that she needs. I promise everything is going to be alright. It may not seem like it now, but I promise it will all work out.” I can hear his heavy sigh and know he’s going to trust me to save her and not cause more trouble.
“Okay, Dad. If you say so, just don’t let her die.”
I dial the Collin County Sheriff’s office for what must be the fifth time this year and ask for Trent in Emergency Services. Trent is my long-time school friend and the manager of the county’s emergency services. He’s bailed Julie out of her issues several times in the last decade or so since I introduced them.
“Trent Maybury, may I help you?”
“Trent, it’s Braxton. Julie and Rowan are out by the Michelson’s farm on South Maxwell Creek Road in Murphy. She’s apparently passed out and ran them into a ditch. Can you get an ambulance out there ASAP? “
“I’m on it, Brax. Hold on a sec.” I hear him giving directions to a dispatcher and answering questions in return. He knows all the answers since the tragedy of our life is an open book to him. He should. He’s no stranger to our problems. I hear Rowan’s voice through the phone, calling my name.
“Rowan, I’m here. Help is coming, I promise. Just keep saying her name in prayer, and holding Mommy’s hand, okay?”
“Braxton, I’ve got an ambulance on the way for a possible overdose of an unknown substance. What do you want me to do with Rowan?”
“I’ll call Dale Michelson and see if he can go out and get him. Rowan will need a ride to school, albeit a late one, but if he doesn’t want to go after all the excitement, I don’t want him going to the hospital. I’ll see if Dale can get him to his grandparent’s up in Parker. Thank you, Trent. I appreciate it.” I take a deep breath and pray they get there in time. I don’t want Rowan anywhere near Julie when she’s high, but especially if she’s going to overdose. No one needs to see their mother like that.
“I’m here if you need me for anything else. I’ve got your back, Brax. You just keep chasing your dream, because you’re gonna need that money, and hopefully not someday soon.”
The red-head whose phone I’m using is watching me like a hawk but from a short distance; not short enough though. Every word I'm saying vibrates through the air and into her ears no matter if I turn my back to her or not. I only know this because her neck and ears are craning in my direction. When I try to take a few steps farther away from her for privacy, she takes a few steps closer. Damn nosey woman.
I put my phone back up to my ear, and I can hear Rowan praying.
“Dear God, heal my mommy. Take away whatever is making her sick all the time. She used to be a fun mommy. Please make her be like that again; the laughing and wrestling mommy that could find an earthworm in the knee-deep grass so we could go fishing. Make her the mommy again that cooks macaroni and cheese and dinosaur chicken nuggets instead of peanut butter on broken crackers. Please make her better God. I won’t ask for any Christmas presents on Jesus’ birthday this year if you can do this for me.”
I look up Dale’s number in my contacts while Rowan prays and dial it into the lady’s phone. Hopefully, he answers an unknown, long-distance number calling.
“Hello, Michelson’s Farm.”
“Dale, it’s Braxton Ryder.”
“Well, hello Braxton. It’s been a while. How ya doin’, man?”
“I’m well, thank you. I’m riding the circuit this season. Hey, Dale. I need a favor, and I hate to ask, but it’s an emergency.”
“Sure, what can I do for you?”
“Well...Julie’s gone and done something, umm, something really bad, and she had Rowan in the car. They are out at the stop sign on the south end of your farm in the ditch. I’ve called 9-1-1, and an ambulance is on the way. I’m hoping you can go out and get him?” I stop blathering and give him a moment to take in my request. It’s a lot to ask of someone, especially once you explain you’ve had to call 9-1-1.
I put my phone to my ear and listen for Rowan, but my heart plummets when it’s silent on the other end of the line. “Rowan, are you there, buddy?”
“I’m here, Dad. I was just listening to you talk to someone else. Mom still won’t wake up, but her breath is warm on my hand.” I hear him whimper in his small voice.
“Everything’s gonna be alright, little man. I’ve got help coming. I won’t let you down.”
“Dad, I can hear an ambulance siren. They’re coming,” he bellows with excitement. “Help is coming, Mama. Just hang in there with me. Dad, there’s a silver pick-up truck pulling up. What do I do?”
I put the lady’s phone back up to my ear and hear Dale’s truck tires crushing gravel. “Brax, I’ve got him. I’m here. There’s a siren in the distance, but I can’t see the ambulance yet.”
“Rowan, that’s Dale. He’s a friend of mine, and he’s gonna stay with you until your mama is stable and then take you to your grandparents. Okay?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You go with him; he’s a good man. I’m gonna let you go to call your grandparents. I’ll call you later this evening, so charge your phone. And mind your manners for your grandparents. I love you.” Hanging up that call is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.
“Thank you, Dale. Once she’s secure and on her way to the hospital, could you take him to his grandparents’ home in Parker? They live next to Southfork Ranch.”
“Of course, I can. Is this your new number in case I need to get a hold of you?”
“No, use my old number. I was borrowing a phone so that I wouldn’t have to disconnect from Rowan. He’s so scared and doesn’t need any more drama in his young life.”
“You’re a great father, Braxton. Don’t you worry. We’ll take care of him for you, and just so you know — you can trust me. This never happened in my book.” Sincerity rings true in his voice. Small town gossip will never die, I guess, but true friends will always have your back.
“Thank you, Dale. I appreciate it more than you know.”
I hang up the phone and start a slow walk back to the lady to return her phone. She’s not as close as she was before, sitting on the cab steps of a large Chevy 2500. She must have finally had a little faith in me. She stands and starts walking towards me to re-claim her prized possession. We meet halfway in between the parked trailers, and all of a sudden this large lot seems small.
“Thank you for letting me use your phone,” I say dropping it into her outstretched palm. “There was some trouble, and I needed...I needed to call for help.” I stutter, swallowing the ball of tension that has been building in my throat. The morning sun catches her hair, and I realize it’s more strawberry-blond than red. She has it pulled back tight into a neat ponytail, but the cinnamon-colored streaks are what catch the light, and draw my eyes to her. She’s pretty, but her gray eyes are harsh and distrusting.
“Do you need a ride somewhere? To help the boy?”
“Not unless you can teleport me to Dallas,” I snap at her. “Do you always listen to other people’s conversations, Nosey Rosey?”
“Nosey Rosey? Really? And yes, I do when they are in a public lot and occur on MY phone. This is Los Angeles” she gestures with a sweeping hand in the air, “nothing is private here.”
“As I said, thank you for the use of your phone, ma’am. You’ve done your one good deed for the day. If I were in my rider gear, I’d tip my hat to you in goodwill, but I don’t think you’d offer me peace in return.” I walk past her as she grunts in disgust and head to my trailer a few rows over. I can feel her angry glare burrowing holes into my back. Maybe that heat will ease the tension in my shoulders since my workout was cut short.
I push the door to my trailer open and let the satisfying feeling of neat and tidy living wash over me. After the drama of this morning, I know I wouldn’t be able to walk in here and clean up a mess. I set my keys and phone down on the kitchenette table and take a seat. Ten more seconds of silence is all I need before I have to pick up that phone and call Julie’s parents. Maybe fifteen seconds. Yeah, fifteen. I close my eyes and picture Rowan’s face. It’s a mirror image of mine, but he’s got his mama’s dimples. Someday soon, Rowan. Someday soon, we’ll be together, and this will all be a nightmare in the past.
I clench my fists and release them as my thick, gnarled fingers fumble for the phone and pull it to me across the table. Sliding the green arrow across the screen, I dial the number by heart.