Twenty-One
Tait
I fling myself into the machine, and I have to swallow a yelp from the seat burning my ass. The heat feels like it’s increasing by the minute today.
Charlie climbs in on the other side of me and immediately sets to turning knobs on the radio until I hear his voice come through the headset. “Can you hear me?” he asks.
“Yep.” I push down the button under my chin and repeat it, and he nods in response.
“Henry?” he asks. Henry rides up next to us and grabs a walkie talkie that’s strapped to his chest.
“Yup.”
“Same here,” comes James’s voice.
“Alright, let’s roll. They’re still out on the eastern ridge area, so coming at them from over here will push them closer to the house and southeast, away from the main hunting areas.”
“All shit that we know, Charlie,” James drawls, making me laugh. It’s obvious Charlie is trying to do an overview for my benefit.
“If you push this button here before you speak, it’ll stay between you and I,” Charlie says as he shows me another button on the inside of my helmet. He points to the one Henry showed me. “This one goes out to everyone.”
I push it before I say “Okay” to let him know we’re good to go, and that I’m ready. I’m anxious to take off, to feel myself flying.
Henry and James speed off ahead, and Charlie floors it. I let out what I’m sure is a delighted, but very girly squeal as we propel forward, the rig gliding across the field. Every time we approach what looks like a huge divot, I’m shocked at how smoothly we skate over it. It takes a while, but eventually I stop tensing up for each bump and start laughing at the sheer delight of it all. The speed, the music blaring—90s country to be exact. Charlie is a Shania guy, apparently, a fact that delights me. I’m singing along at the top of my lungs without the bummer of having to hear myself, the roaring engine blocking out the sound. I haven’t felt so much pure, simple bliss in forever. The heat is intense, but the speed keeps it off of us and morphs it into a pleasant, breezy blanket that pours over my skin continuously in waves.
I’m aware that the impending awkwardness of whatever this rekindling is will be intense, but I feel an easy contentment settle on me, despite the chaos that carries us across the valleys and over hills.
Sometime later, as I’m singing along to Brooks and for reasons I’m not fully cognizant of, I want to head in that direction right now, and away from this conversation. I’m up and moving before I think on it too long.