All I’ve ever known is the Pee Dee River. The entire town is only a handful of miles long, and my family owns a few squares of that. Mama used to call it the gem of the South and swore she would never leave. I think she had more of a love affair with the land than with Papa. But Mama has been gone a long time now. Left Papa all alone to fend for the rest of us.

There are six of us Pierces crammed into this tin can house together. Three tiny bedrooms to divvy up best we can. Most nights you can find me on the back deck sleeping on a cot. Even when the air is so thick you can slice it, it’s still cooler out there. Plus, the night sounds are the best sleep machine on the market. The croakin’ frogs from the river get in a rhythm that rocks me like Mama did once.

On the nights I can’t sleep, I walk. I find walking empties my head, so I can make better decisions. And once my head is empty and I still can’t sleep, I walk down to my best friend Teddy Roscoe’s house.

Teddy and I have grown up together here on the Pee Dee. But Teddy left about a month ago for Clemson University. Said he was going to study agriculture and come back to help his daddy. He will be back. This place is like a boomerang. Shoots you out into the world, but you get slung right on back.

I’m scared of leaving home. The rest of the world has different rules it lives by. They’re complicated and tiered.

Nothing is simple past the river. Growing up, Papa said all of us kids needed to learn to take care of ourselves. He wanted us to know how to keep a house, stay fed, and defend ourselves. Papa was a fighter when he was in the service. He was a lightweight boxer with a decent winning streak. I think it’s how he tries to connect to us kids. Quality time they call it.

Papa built us a fighting ring in the front dirt, roped off with some tow line rope. On Sundays, his only day off, he spends hours in the hot sun with us teaching us techniques. We share licks just like we share a last name. Teddy used to sneak over and watch us. It was nice to have someone yell my name in support.

But one afternoon, Teddy’s mom must have realized he was missing. She showed up just as my youngest brother threw a right hook and knocked out one of my sister Lesley’s teeth. As Lesley spit it into the dirt, Mrs. Roscoe exclaimed, “Teddy Roscoe! Get yourself back home now!”

Teddy’s mom cooled off, and I was back in her good graces soon enough. I’m Teddy’s protector. He ain’t like me. He’s not a fighter, but damn if he don’t attract them. My role in our relationship is to make sure no one even thinks of touching Teddy. And for that, Mrs. Roscoe forgives me and still loves me.

None of that matters now. Teddy’s gone. But I’m going to see him soon. I’m scared. Funny how that works. Don’t plan much of a future living out here on the river so looking ahead at something is new to me. I worry that Teddy has changed. That he don’t need a protector. He’s a college man now. A fraternity brother. Wears some letters like a branded steer to show he belongs.

Soon as the sun is kissing the horizon, I’m sitting outside Teddy’s old house with my backpack. His mom is going to visit too, so I’m bumming a ride from her. I’ve been writing down all sorts of possible talking topics for us. It ain’t easy censoring myself around her. I wrote down Teddy’s name first because that’s the most obvious thing we have in common.

The sound of the screen door slapping back against the frame makes me look up.

“Donny. I could have picked you up, hon.”

“It’s ok. I don’t mind the walk. Clears my head.”

Teddy’s mom pats at my forearm as if she understands how nervous I am for the trip. Donny Pierce going to college. Probably the closest I’ll get anyway. I know I’m smart, but my fate is the family business. The Pierces deal in tow trucks and salvage yards. It’s always fed us, so I imagine I’ll pick it up and keep it going for Papa.

Once we hit interstate 85, it’s a long shot to Clemson. I settle in the Buick’s velour bench seat, careful not get too close to Teddy’s mom. Leaning against the window, I close my eyes even though I’m not tired. I’m wired. My nerves are electric and buzzing. Teddy’s mom can feel it.

“Donny, hon. You ok?”

I keep my eyes closed and nod. Her fingers are patting my forearm again.

“It’s natural to be nervous. But remember that it’s still Teddy. No matter what changes in your lives you’ve always been there for each other. That stays the same.”

I open my eyes and give her a half smile. She means well. I have to give her something to work with.

Teddy’s mom got a hotel room, but I’m going to stay with Teddy in his frat house.

I’m not going to fit in. I know that already. But I worry about what Teddy will do. Am I still his brother? Or are these people his new brothers? Probably just my nerves talking. He did invite me down, so he must have missed me.

Before I know it, Teddy’s mom has pulled up to the hotel. There’s Teddy leaned up against his old S-10, the red paint starting to fade to a pink. He hugs his mom, and then he pretends to land a right jab in my gut. Pretend or not, I’m fast and block him. It’s instinct to me.

“Oh, Teddy. It’s so good to see you, hon.”

His mom doesn’t want to let go of him. It ain’t been that long since he left, but I stand back kicking at the asphalt with my work boots. Teddy’s Cheraw Brave’s hat has been replaced with a new version sporting Greek letters. Makes him look different. Like he don’t belong to me no more.

“Alright. Well, I’m going to get checked in and get a shower. You boys go off and visit. Pick me back up for dinner later?”

Teddy nods at his mom. I stand frozen to my spot on the asphalt.

“Get in the car, man. I’ll take you to the house.”

Teddy starts the car and Garth Brooks serenades us at top volume. He turns it down, but I quickly crank it back up. I’m too nervous to talk. Teddy grins as Garth sings about having friends in low places.

We only get through one full Garth song before we are pulling into a gravel lot. A two-story white house with a small front landing looms over the lot. There are beer cans decorating the tops of the holly bushes that run across the front. I step out of the truck, and the air snaps at me. It’s different.

“Come on, man. Grab your backpack. You can stash it in my room and crash there tonight.”

My tongue still isn’t working right. I nod at Teddy and grab my pack. My flannel shirt, Pierce Tow Truck t-shirt, and work boots suddenly feel like a prison jumpsuit. I stick out and not in a good way. My eyes settle back on Teddy—new jeans and a Clemson Forestry and Life Sciences tee. And that new hat. Those Greek letters a signal that something has shifted between us.

Maybe I’m being too judgmental. Papa says assume the worst about people and you’ll damn sure find it, so I guess I should stop assuming Teddy’s pushing me out. And stop playing out in my head how his new friends will reject me. Besides, I’m Donny Pierce from the Pee Dee. I’ll whoop anyone’s ass that looks at me wrong. This type of thinking is like mentally pounding my chest. Building me up and giving me the confidence to jut out my chin as I walk up the front steps of the big white house.

I shuffle into the front door, and the smell slaps me. Stale beer, skunk weed, and B.O. coat every surface of the joint. I’m not exactly a neat person, but damn. Teddy bounds up the front staircase and motions for me to follow.

“We’ve got a mixer tonight, man. Beer and girls and weed. You’re gonna love it.”

But I’m not so sure I’m gonna love it. Everywhere I look I see someone that doesn’t look like me. Doesn’t sound like me. Hell, Teddy doesn’t even sound like me no more. But I remember Papa’s wise words and try to let go as Teddy takes me around and introduces me to his new brothers.

Later that night, the house turns into a nightclub. The bass of the music rattles my teeth and makes my stomach jump to the beat. There is already a wall of PBR cans almost touching the ceiling, and it ain’t even midnight yet. These boys mean business.

I lost track of Teddy about an hour ago and have been wandering around nursing the same beer. I step out back to take a break from the music and see Teddy sitting around an old card table with a bottle of Jack Daniels.

“Donny! Hey! Donny! Come over here.”

A blonde guy whose nose looks like old money is hollering at me. Teddy’s eyes are glazed over already, and he can’t meet my gaze. I wander over and take the seat offered to me, setting my warm beer on the card table.

“We’re playing a game. Join in.”

He slams down a shot glass in front of me and fills it to the top with a few drops escaping down the side. I shake my head no and push it away from me. Something is turning my insides and telling me to keep my wits tonight.

The blonde guy pushes the shot glass closer to me. Without even using any words, he is telling me that no isn’t an option. I try to catch Teddy’s eye, but he won’t look at me. It is like he is embarrassed of me. I inhale deeply and push myself up from the table.

“I said no thanks, man. Move on.”

Teddy stands up and gets between me and the old money blonde.

“Donny. Be cool. Unclench your fists, man. Don’t do that shit here.”

“Don’t do what shit? Be myself? What do you care? You don’t need me anymore.”

The blonde has tuned in to what is happening between us and announces to the table, “Teddy’s boyfriend is a church lady! No shots for the church lady!”

My fists are still clenched. Teddy is so close that I can smell the last Marlboro he smoked. I shove his chest with my open palms, and he sprawls out backwards taking the card table and the Jack Daniels bottle down to the ground.

While the crowd and Teddy are still stunned, I take off walking. I’m not sure where I’m going, but I can’t stick around and end up fighting my best friend, my brother.

I walk for hours all over the campus. It is beautiful, and my legs pumping up and down the hills relax me. I pass by the university dairy farm. All the cows standing close together with the moon providing a spotlight. This place don’t look much different from home, but the people sure are.

I try paging Teddy a few times, and he doesn’t answer. Doesn’t even acknowledge the last 911 I send. I start back toward the hotel as the sun is coming up to meet the sky. As I walk into the parking lot, I spot my backpack propped up against the old Buick’s tire. I pick it up and slide down to the ground with my back against the car. I guess it is over.

After about an hour, I hear some feet softly shuffling toward me.

“Donny, hon? What are you doing?”

I look up at Mrs. Roscoe, and the dried tears on my face are refreshed with some new ones.

“Oh, Donny. Come here.”

And this time, I don’t shrink away from her touch. I lean into it and let her absorb some of my sadness.

“I know it’s hard for you, hon. It’s hard for Teddy too.”

I’m still clinging to her, but I don’t say anything. She means well.

“Come to breakfast. We can make this alright again. We always do.”

I nod my head no and manage to choke out, “This time’s different.”

 

A decade has gone by now, but I still remember that night as fresh as when it happened. Mrs. Roscoe begging me to come to breakfast that morning. Begging me to talk to Teddy. I knew better though. We weren’t brothers no more. My backpack leaned up against the car had been the sign. We were done.

The Pee Dee always calls me back home no matter how short my travels are, and it had called me home that day too. I started working for Papa at the family towing service. It was hard work and sometimes dangerous, but I liked getting into a rhythm with Papa. It was nice to look up throughout the day and see someone so familiar.

I was constantly driving all around town for work, and I would see Mrs. Roscoe from time to time. She’d show me pictures of Teddy and his new bride, which through the years turned into pictures of Teddy, his not-so-new bride, and their kids. I’d always smile polite and return her hug. Her hugs made me feel connected to my old friend.

Each time we ran into each other, she would take the opportunity to try and get me to call Teddy. She’d say, “One of these days my boys are going to be together again. I know it. I’ll just keep calling you both home to each other.”

Then Papa got sick. The cancer ate him up fast. The doctor said wasn’t much could have stopped it. Not even a good health insurance plan. It was blazing hot the day we put Papa to rest. I tried not to look off into the woods surrounding the cemetery. There was hope in my gaze. Hope that I would see Teddy Roscoe somewhere on the outskirts, waiting a respectable distance until the crowd dispersed. Maybe he’d come over to pay his respects to Papa. Maybe we’d just pick back up like we were kids and that night in Clemson had never happened. But the horizon was empty.

Mrs. Roscoe had been there. Patted my hand as she held it tight and told me Teddy wished he could have made the trip. Told me to call him.

The years piled up on me some more, and the business putzed along, ebbing and flowing as small businesses do. It was important to me to keep Papa’s business going. It felt like a lifeline to him somehow.

I’d go to the cemetery once a week like clockwork. Take Papa some flowers and make sure things were kept nice. He’d always been tidy, and death was no different.

Wasn’t long and Mrs. Roscoe was in that cemetery too. I’d stayed away from her funeral. My siblings thought I was being stubborn. I was really scared. Scared Teddy would still turn me away even after all these years.

 

I kick my work boot against Papa’s tombstone to let him know I am here. Then I bend down and wipe away some of the pollen coating his name. Wiping away pollen is a loser’s game this time of year. My legs start to give out, so I stand up and rub my hand over Papa’s tombstone one more time

“I sure do miss you.”

I say it out loud just in case he can hear me.

Mrs. Roscoe’s tombstone isn’t on my way back to the car, but I take the detour anyway. Someone comes out here on the regular and makes sure she’s tidy too. My heart always races when I’m here, racing in anticipation of possibly seeing Teddy. Although, the last I heard he wasn’t living close by.

As I weave myself through those resting folks, I see him. He’s squatted down by her tombstone just staring. My brain tells me to stop, but my legs keep going. Teddy hears my movement and turns his head. A smile spreads across his faces as he pushes himself to standing.

As I get closer, he sticks out his hand.

“Donny. Damn, man. It’s so good to see you. How long has it been?”

I take his hand, feeling the smoothness of it against my callused one. Two boys born and raised on the Pee Dee yet living in different worlds.

“Been a long time. I’m real sorry about your mama.”

Teddy drops my hand.

“Yeah. Losing mama was hard. Daddy’s still kicking around. He’s slower, but he’s here. I’m grateful for it. You know I’m moving back now, right?”

I didn’t know, but it makes sense. Teddy always said he was going to take over his dad’s cattle business.

“The old man can’t run the business anymore. I’m hoping to turn it into a household name like that 44 Farms out in Texas.”

We chat for a decent bit. I tell him about the towing company and what’s keeping me busy. He goes into more detail about his business plan. Talks about his wife and two girls. It’s not like before, but we ain’t like before.

As we shake hands again with the promise of getting together soon, I look down at Mrs. Roscoe’s grave. She is calling her boys home.