All I\u2019ve 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.<\/p>\n
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\u2019s still cooler out there. Plus, the night sounds are the best sleep machine on the market. The croakin\u2019 frogs from the river get in a rhythm that rocks me like Mama did once.<\/p>\n
On the nights I can\u2019t 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\u2019t sleep, I walk down to my best friend Teddy Roscoe\u2019s house.<\/p>\n
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.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m scared of leaving home. The rest of the world has different rules it lives by. They\u2019re complicated and tiered.<\/p>\n
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\u2019s how he tries to connect to us kids. Quality time they call it.<\/p>\n
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.<\/p>\n
But one afternoon, Teddy\u2019s 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\u2019s teeth. As Lesley spit it into the dirt, Mrs. Roscoe exclaimed, \u201cTeddy Roscoe! Get yourself back home now!\u201d<\/p>\n
Teddy\u2019s mom cooled off, and I was back in her good graces soon enough. I\u2019m Teddy\u2019s protector. He ain\u2019t like me. He\u2019s not a fighter, but damn if he don\u2019t 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.<\/p>\n
None of that matters now. Teddy\u2019s gone. But I\u2019m going to see him soon. I\u2019m scared. Funny how that works. Don\u2019t 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\u2019t need a protector. He\u2019s a college man now. A fraternity brother. Wears some letters like a branded steer to show he belongs.<\/p>\n
Soon as the sun is kissing the horizon, I\u2019m sitting outside Teddy\u2019s old house with my backpack. His mom is going to visit too, so I\u2019m bumming a ride from her. I\u2019ve been writing down all sorts of possible talking topics for us. It ain\u2019t easy censoring myself around her. I wrote down Teddy\u2019s name first because that\u2019s the most obvious thing we have in common.<\/p>\n
The sound of the screen door slapping back against the frame makes me look up.<\/p>\n
\u201cDonny. I could have picked you up, hon.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s ok. I don\u2019t mind the walk. Clears my head.\u201d<\/p>\n
Teddy\u2019s 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\u2019ll get anyway. I know I\u2019m smart, but my fate is the family business. The Pierces deal in tow trucks and salvage yards. It\u2019s always fed us, so I imagine I\u2019ll pick it up and keep it going for Papa.<\/p>\n
Once we hit interstate 85, it\u2019s a long shot to Clemson. I settle in the Buick\u2019s velour bench seat, careful not get too close to Teddy\u2019s mom. Leaning against the window, I close my eyes even though I\u2019m not tired. I\u2019m wired. My nerves are electric and buzzing. Teddy\u2019s mom can feel it.<\/p>\n
\u201cDonny, hon. You ok?\u201d<\/p>\n
I keep my eyes closed and nod. Her fingers are patting my forearm again.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s natural to be nervous. But remember that it\u2019s still Teddy. No matter what changes in your lives you\u2019ve always been there for each other. That stays the same.\u201d<\/p>\n
I open my eyes and give her a half smile. She means well. I have to give her something to work with.<\/p>\n
Teddy\u2019s mom got a hotel room, but I\u2019m going to stay with Teddy in his frat house.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m 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.<\/p>\n
Before I know it, Teddy\u2019s mom has pulled up to the hotel. There\u2019s 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\u2019m fast and block him. It\u2019s instinct to me.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, Teddy. It\u2019s so good to see you, hon.\u201d<\/p>\n
His mom doesn\u2019t want to let go of him. It ain\u2019t been that long since he left, but I stand back kicking at the asphalt with my work boots. Teddy\u2019s Cheraw Brave\u2019s hat has been replaced with a new version sporting Greek letters. Makes him look different. Like he don\u2019t belong to me no more.<\/p>\n
\u201cAlright. Well, I\u2019m going to get checked in and get a shower. You boys go off and visit. Pick me back up for dinner later?\u201d<\/p>\n
Teddy nods at his mom. I stand frozen to my spot on the asphalt.<\/p>\n
\u201cGet in the car, man. I\u2019ll take you to the house.\u201d<\/p>\n
Teddy starts the car and Garth Brooks serenades us at top volume. He turns it down, but I quickly crank it back up. I\u2019m too nervous to talk. Teddy grins as Garth sings about having friends in low places.<\/p>\n
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\u2019s different.<\/p>\n
\u201cCome on, man. Grab your backpack. You can stash it in my room and crash there tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n
My tongue still isn\u2019t 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\u2014new jeans and a Clemson Forestry and Life Sciences tee. And that new hat. Those Greek letters a signal that something has shifted between us.<\/p>\n
Maybe I\u2019m being too judgmental. Papa says assume the worst about people and you\u2019ll damn sure find it, so I guess I should stop assuming Teddy\u2019s pushing me out. And stop playing out in my head how his new friends will reject me. Besides, I\u2019m Donny Pierce from the Pee Dee. I\u2019ll whoop anyone\u2019s 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.<\/p>\n
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\u2019m not exactly a neat person, but damn. Teddy bounds up the front staircase and motions for me to follow.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019ve got a mixer tonight, man. Beer and girls and weed. You\u2019re gonna love it.\u201d<\/p>\n
But I\u2019m not so sure I\u2019m gonna love it. Everywhere I look I see someone that doesn\u2019t look like me. Doesn\u2019t sound like me. Hell, Teddy doesn\u2019t even sound like me no more. But I remember Papa\u2019s wise words and try to let go as Teddy takes me around and introduces me to his new brothers.<\/p>\n
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\u2019t even midnight yet. These boys mean business.<\/p>\n
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.<\/p>\n
\u201cDonny! Hey! Donny! Come over here.\u201d<\/p>\n
A blonde guy whose nose looks like old money is hollering at me. Teddy\u2019s eyes are glazed over already, and he can\u2019t meet my gaze. I wander over and take the seat offered to me, setting my warm beer on the card table.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019re playing a game. Join in.\u201d<\/p>\n
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.<\/p>\n
The blonde guy pushes the shot glass closer to me. Without even using any words, he is telling me that no isn\u2019t an option. I try to catch Teddy\u2019s eye, but he won\u2019t look at me. It is like he is embarrassed of me. I inhale deeply and push myself up from the table.<\/p>\n
\u201cI said no thanks, man. Move on.\u201d<\/p>\n
Teddy stands up and gets between me and the old money blonde.<\/p>\n
\u201cDonny. Be cool. Unclench your fists, man. Don\u2019t do that shit here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t do what shit? Be myself? What do you care? You don\u2019t need me anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n
The blonde has tuned in to what is happening between us and announces to the table, \u201cTeddy\u2019s boyfriend is a church lady! No shots for the church lady!\u201d<\/p>\n
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.<\/p>\n
While the crowd and Teddy are still stunned, I take off walking. I\u2019m not sure where I\u2019m going, but I can\u2019t stick around and end up fighting my best friend, my brother.<\/p>\n
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\u2019t look much different from home, but the people sure are.<\/p>\n
I try paging Teddy a few times, and he doesn\u2019t answer. Doesn\u2019t 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\u2019s tire. I pick it up and slide down to the ground with my back against the car. I guess it is over.<\/p>\n
After about an hour, I hear some feet softly shuffling toward me.<\/p>\n
\u201cDonny, hon? What are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n
I look up at Mrs. Roscoe, and the dried tears on my face are refreshed with some new ones.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, Donny. Come here.\u201d<\/p>\n
And this time, I don\u2019t shrink away from her touch. I lean into it and let her absorb some of my sadness.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know it\u2019s hard for you, hon. It\u2019s hard for Teddy too.\u201d<\/p>\n
I\u2019m still clinging to her, but I don\u2019t say anything. She means well.<\/p>\n
\u201cCome to breakfast. We can make this alright again. We always do.\u201d<\/p>\n
I nod my head no and manage to choke out, \u201cThis time\u2019s different.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
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\u2019t brothers no more. My backpack leaned up against the car had been the sign. We were done.<\/p>\n
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.<\/p>\n
I was constantly driving all around town for work, and I would see Mrs. Roscoe from time to time. She\u2019d 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\u2019d always smile polite and return her hug. Her hugs made me feel connected to my old friend.<\/p>\n
Each time we ran into each other, she would take the opportunity to try and get me to call Teddy. She\u2019d say, \u201cOne of these days my boys are going to be together again. I know it. I\u2019ll just keep calling you both home to each other.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then Papa got sick. The cancer ate him up fast. The doctor said wasn\u2019t 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\u2019d come over to pay his respects to Papa. Maybe we\u2019d just pick back up like we were kids and that night in Clemson had never happened. But the horizon was empty.<\/p>\n
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.<\/p>\n
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\u2019s business going. It felt like a lifeline to him somehow.<\/p>\n
I\u2019d go to the cemetery once a week like clockwork. Take Papa some flowers and make sure things were kept nice. He\u2019d always been tidy, and death was no different.<\/p>\n
Wasn\u2019t long and Mrs. Roscoe was in that cemetery too. I\u2019d 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.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I kick my work boot against Papa\u2019s 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\u2019s game this time of year. My legs start to give out, so I stand up and rub my hand over Papa\u2019s tombstone one more time<\/p>\n
\u201cI sure do miss you.\u201d<\/p>\n
I say it out loud just in case he can hear me.<\/p>\n
Mrs. Roscoe\u2019s tombstone isn\u2019t on my way back to the car, but I take the detour anyway. Someone comes out here on the regular and makes sure she\u2019s tidy too. My heart always races when I\u2019m here, racing in anticipation of possibly seeing Teddy. Although, the last I heard he wasn\u2019t living close by.<\/p>\n
As I weave myself through those resting folks, I see him. He\u2019s 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.<\/p>\n
As I get closer, he sticks out his hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cDonny. Damn, man. It\u2019s so good to see you. How long has it been?\u201d<\/p>\n
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.<\/p>\n
\u201cBeen a long time. I\u2019m real sorry about your mama.\u201d<\/p>\n
Teddy drops my hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah. Losing mama was hard. Daddy\u2019s still kicking around. He\u2019s slower, but he\u2019s here. I\u2019m grateful for it. You know I\u2019m moving back now, right?\u201d<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t know, but it makes sense. Teddy always said he was going to take over his dad\u2019s cattle business.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe old man can\u2019t run the business anymore. I\u2019m hoping to turn it into a household name like that 44 Farms out in Texas.\u201d<\/p>\n
We chat for a decent bit. I tell him about the towing company and what\u2019s keeping me busy. He goes into more detail about his business plan. Talks about his wife and two girls. It\u2019s not like before, but we ain\u2019t like before.<\/p>\n
As we shake hands again with the promise of getting together soon, I look down at Mrs. Roscoe\u2019s grave. She is calling her boys home.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":182,"featured_media":21734,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-21216","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","writer-katy-goforth"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21216","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/182"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=21216"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21216\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":21735,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21216\/revisions\/21735"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/21734"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=21216"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=21216"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=21216"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}