Chapter Five #3
“Dahn, let’s go.” I placed my hand on my son’s shoulder and steered him from his friends to our car.
He whipped his new school backpack onto the seat.
Once he was buckled, I looked over to see Phil climbing into an old Ford station wagon that had been redone.
Once I knew Phil was with his brother, I slid into my car, turned, and looked right at my child.
“I’m not sure I like what I saw taking place with Phil.
Would you care to tell me what that was all about? ”
Dahn stared down at his dirty knees. “We were just playing.”
“Playing? Push Pudgy Phil does not sound like playing to me. That sounds like bullying. Do you think you’d like it if a band of boys started shoving you into a pond on Dunk Dopey Dahn day?”
He shot me a look of pure venom. I’d never gotten such a spiteful glare from the boy before. Ugh, if this was the onset of puberty, I was in for a long, bumpy ride.
“Phil is pudgy,” he argued.
“And you’re Asian. Would you like it if someone made fun of you for that?”
“I can’t change being Asian. Phil can stop eating so many cookies.”
I sat there stunned. Where the hell was all of this coming from? I had to regroup. “Well, be that as it may, you know we do not make fun of people. It’s hurtful and cruel. On Monday, I want you to apologize to Phil.”
“I never pushed him!”
“I’m glad, but you stood by and let it happen instead of stepping up to stop it. That’s the end of this discussion, Dahn.”
He mumbled something under his breath. I thought of making him repeat it, but that would only add fuel to the fire, so I let it go.
I let things cool for a few moments. Dahn was pouting, arms folded, the very epitome of a preteen.
Yikes. Maybe I needed to start shifting my thinking about him from a child to a young man on the cusp of some very big changes.
“So, how was twirling class? I bet you’re excited for school to start so you can try out for the marching band majorettes,” I said as we cruised to the ranch, small drops of rain splattering on the windshield.
“I’m not doing twirling anymore. That’s for girls,” he boldly announced.
My mouth fell open. I snapped it shut. What?
“I’m confused, Dahn. You loved twirling just a week ago?
And for what it’s worth, it’s not just for girls.
Anyone can be a baton twirler.” His jaw remained locked.
Tightly. “Did you have a bad class? Everyone drops their baton now and again, even Bella, and she’s quite good. ”
He jerked his head to the side to stare at the cornfields, the leaves on the plants all drooping downward, the plants in need of some rain. Rain that they were going to get if the weather forecasts that Baker watched so closely were reliable.
“Right, well, you think on it over the weekend. I won’t make you take a class you’ve genuinely lost interest in, but I will call you out for saying that something is girly.
We don’t engage in that sort of stereotypical foolishness.
Girls can and do like sports. Boys can and should play house and parent baby dolls.
Saying something is ‘girly’ makes it sound like being a girl is bad, which it is not. ”
He remained stoic the rest of the way home, but I suspected his mind was gnawing on everything.
When we parked, he shot out of the car like he’d been fired from a cannon.
I sighed sadly, wondering where my sparkly little bundle of joy had gone.
Someone had replaced him with a clone, it seemed.
A prickly clone who suddenly didn’t think everything I had to say was golden.
Which kind of sucked because I was pretty wise, I thought.
I did go to college after all and graduated with a Doctor of Dental Surgery degree.
I was about to dart inside when a familiar car pulled up to the boutique.
Pausing, I watched as Mona Lou hurried into the boutique.
Unsure of what was happening, I made my way to the little dress shop, my hand on my hat to keep it in place as a gust of wind blew around the old springhouse.
Once inside, I found Bella chatting away with Mona Lou as she placed a bright green and yellow dress into an empty carton from a major online retailer and taped it up snug as a bug.
Watching from behind a dress form with a pink shirt and skirt combo, I nodded at the woman when she exited a few moments later.
“Hey, Dodge, are you looking for a dress?” Bella merrily called from behind her counter.
“Not this time. I was just making sure Mona Lou was being friendly.”
She swept up to me, rose to her toes, and kissed my cheek.
“You Bastian brothers are so gallant. Thank you for looking out for me, but she was here to buy another dress, which she is going to open in front of her husband. He’ll see the box, and that will be the end of her worries.
I told her to tell all the ladies whose spouses might have issues with me to hang onto their old shipping boxes. ”
“You’re a clever woman,” I said and got a glorious smile.
“There’s more than one way to outfox a bigot. Let’s go inside. I’m closing up early. Baker said it’s supposed to get ugly for the next few days.”
We made a run for the ranch house, the raindrops falling faster, and joined the rest of the clan at the kitchen table. Nearly the rest. Dahn was in our room, door closed, probably sulking.
“Looks like the rain has arrived,” Granny said while placing a loaf of banana bread on the table along with a pot of coffee. Linc, Ford, and Baker all grabbed a slice, while I declined and Bella went upstairs to take off her damp clothes.
Baker dunked his slice of bread into his mug of coffee before shoving it into his face. Even Lincoln blinked, and I’d seen him do the same with a slab of meatloaf just last week.
“I’m going to secure the goats in the barn tonight,” Ford said around his bite of bread.
He did that every night, leading them back inside and closing the barn doors.
Too many predators roamed the plains to leave them in their pastures.
They were much easier prey than a beef cow.
“I mean like locking the doors against the winds and closing the windows.”
“Leave them cracked just a bit to allow fresh air,” Baker replied after a noisy swallow.
“We’re going out at first light to herd the cows in.
This system that’s moving in now is going to park its fat ass over us for at least two days, according to the National Weather Service.
If that plays out, we’ll have flash floods.
Every dry creek will be roaring in no time, so we’re bringing those heifers and our bull in before they get stuck.
Set your alarms for four. I want to be on our way no later than five. ”
We all nodded along in silence. None of us city boys were really looking forward to riding hundreds of miles on a horse or ATV in a fucking downpour, but the livestock’s safety came first. Welcome to ranching, as Baker liked to say just about daily when one of us would bitch or balk at the manual labor and long hours.
“I’ll be up early to make sure you all have something in your bellies before you go,” Granny said from her seat at the head of the table. Bella could be heard coming down the stairs.
She arrived in the kitchen in jeans and a crop top. “I’ll help you stir up some oatmeal,” she offered, glancing at the back door as it rattled on its hinges. “Wow.”
“Yeah, it’s going to be a soaker. We’ll get everything that can be tied down or brought into the barn secured before it gets dark.
” Baker plucked another slice of bread from the platter.
“I’m riding out with my moronic boyfriend in a bit to see if he can get these damn rain images he’s so het up about.
We will be back before dark. You all see that everything is battened down. ”
“Will do,” I said, easing into a space between Linc, who had risen to give Bella his seat, and the fridge. The door to the old parlor, my bedroom, creaked open. Dahn appeared, his scowl not as pronounced. “Hey, son, you want some warm banana bread?”
“I left my backpack in the car.” He shot outside like a streak. I reached around Ford to get a slice of bread and buttered it for my son. Dahn came thundering in, hair flat to his head, eyes as round as manhole covers. “Holy crap, it is raining so hard!”
“It’s going to be that way for a day or so,” I explained as he dropped his wet backpack to the floor and held out a white plastic grocery bag. My gut flipped.
“I found this bag under my bag. It’s your underwear, Dad. Why is your underwear in a bag by the emergency puke box?” Dahn enquired. Every set of eyes in that suddenly stuffy old kitchen flew to me.
“Yeah, Dodge, why is your underwear in a bag in the back of your car?” Linc asked with all kinds of licentious intent. The asshole. Baker had a brow raised. Ford was confused. The ladies were a little put off by the appearance of dirty skivvies in the kitchen.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Oh, okay, sure, shit. “Oh damn, I forgot about those. Too many beans with the franks last night. You know how it is. All that fiber loosens your stool.”
It was a terrible lie, but I could not tell the truth. Bella’s small hand covered her twitching lips. Linc, Ford, and Baker nearly choked on banana bread. Granny snickered softly.
“Eww, Dad, you messed your pants!” Dahn laughed out loud.
Yes, I had, in a manner, but that manner would go to the grave with me.
I grabbed the bag from my son and hid it behind my back as I wiggled my way to the laundry room.
The titters—and flatulence jokes—followed me into the cramped space with a washer, dryer, and a beat-to-hell double sink, making me mumble under my breath.
Guess that teasing-your-sibling thing was just as much fun for the others as it was for me, I realized while washing my briefs out by hand.
Nothing said bonding like giving your brother guff.