Dutch's Boy
Xavier Axelson
Dutch's Boy © 2011 Xavier Axelson
All rights reserved. Except for brief passages quoted in a newspaper, magazine, radio, or television review, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
First Seventh Window Publications edition: March 2011
Published in the United States of America by:
Seventh Window Publications
P.O. BOX 603165
Providence, RI 02906-0165
http://www.SeventhWindow.com
ISBN: 978-0-9828143-7-6
Dedication
To “E” who keeps my wild horses tamed…
And to Michele L Montgomery who took me under her generous wing
and to all my friends who insisted the gun “stay loaded”
1
“You know Daddy ain’t gonna like you leavin’,” Harry’s little sister said, as she tossed his socks into the huge, army-green duffel bag at the end of his bed.
“Well Daddy ain’t here and I gotta get to the rodeo if I’m gonna get to ridin’ those broncs. I can’t be sittin’ around waiting for the rain to fall. Sometimes you gotta make it rain, baby girl.” Harry began stomping around the floor, imitating a rain dance, making a ruckus with his new boots. His sister started laughing. From down below they could hear their Ma yelling for them to knock it off.
“Still, he ain’t gonna like it,” she repeated.
Harry tossed his old truckers hat at the young girl, just missing her as she managed to get one more pair of socks in his bag before running from his room.
“Damn right he ain’t gonna like it,” he mumbled to himself. “Shoot, he’s gonna hate it.”
Twenty-year-old Harry Reynolds wished he were like his friends who had started riding broncs while they were all in middle school. That’s not to say Harry didn’t know his way around horses. He could train, shoe, rope, and hell, he even knew about breeding them, but his daddy wasn’t having it.
His father was Dutch Reynolds one of the best-known and well-loved saddle bronc riders in the state and Dutch made it a point to have all his kids familiar with the livestock that roamed on his massive ranch. Dutch however made it clear that Harry was to finish school before he started working the rodeo circuit. He told both Harry, and his sister Joanna, that they were not gonna be like him, no sir, no high school diploma to speak of, forced to work and drop out to help his poor Ma who never had two nickels to rub together on account of his no good father. Dutch Reynolds was making sure his kids got an education and if after they graduated they wanted the rodeo life for themselves then he wouldn’t stop them.
Dutch, who was in and out of their lives like summer rainstorms, would say that Hell would have him before he would encourage either child to follow his lead. He came home just long enough to unpack and pack again but not before uttering the same ole warning in the direction of his impatient son. ‘You ain’t ready yet, and that’s my final word. Don’t be getting at your Ma about leavin' for the rodeo either or I’ll tan your hide when I get back’. Dutch was nothing if he wasn’t strict and that left Harry with no room to rebel. Harry would rather face a desert of prickly pears barefoot as to piss his father off. That wasn’t to say that Harry didn’t often think horrible things about his father. He would even go so far as to yell them out in the fields but when Dutch confronted him, he would fall back into line and would begin to wonder if he’d ever be able to break free from the cage of respect and obligation that his father had so carefully wrought.
“He ain’t gonna like it,” Harry said again into the back of the old curtains that just barely moved in the already hot morning air. “And I’ve waited long enough — too damn long. Christ, I’m already twenty; I can’t live under his rules forever.” Harry was tired of kicking rocks on his father’s ranch and going nowhere with his life. He tried community college, to please Dutch, but it wasn’t for him, his classes left him unfulfilled and frustrated.
At first he had let Dutch’s threats knock him down; he would mope about, not doing anything in particular but always feeling that yearning for something else, something more, it was not unusual to find him standing and just staring out at the fields beyond their ranch. Harry knew there was more out there, his gut had told him there was more to do and see and every day that instinct only grew stronger.
His Ma finally had to straighten him out. Harry remembered what she said one day after a couple of his friends had come around just before they were to leave for the rodeo.
“You gotta lot of time, Harry, and you’re just sittin’ around here like a bump on a bean. Why don’t you use the time you’ve been given and make some money? It ain’t cheap getting on the circuit and I can only help you so much and you know your Daddy ain’t gonna help, he just can’t see past his own self some times.” Harry saw her turn away and he could tell she was thinking of the past. She forced a smile when she caught him watching her. “I bet you can make and save some money working down at that fancy resort in town. They got horses; I’m sure they could use someone to take the city folk on trail rides, teach them a thing or two about horses. They’d be lucky to have you, they being the horses,” Ma paused and seeing Harry smile she added, “You being you, how could they not? You’re just so damn likeable Harry Reynolds. I sure like you an awful lot.” She patted him on his leg and waved along with him as his friends disappeared in a cloud of red dust.
She was right. Ma was always right. Harry stopped moping around and took to working harder than he ever had. They had plenty of horses at that resort and like his Ma said; they were more than happy to bring Harry on part-time. Harry didn’t waste a minute. When he wasn’t at the resort he rode, wrangled and cared for the ranch livestock right beside his father’s foreman. Between his work at the resort and his busy life on the ranch, Harry found that time passed and his pockets filled. Harry was soon able to save enough for his train ride to the rodeo and even a little more. He counted that money every week and with each dollar counted, he could feel the cage that had so long surrounded begin to fall apart.
There was also his friend Reb to think about, a guy from school who Harry had taken a liking to awhile back. Reb would come around and watch Harry ride the broncs and show off with the horses. Harry grew used to him being there that when he wasn’t, things didn’t sit right, and he felt out of sorts. He liked being rooted for, cheered on and it was Reb who gave him the idea of hitting the rodeo circuit to follow his passions. Harry could dream, but Reb could always dream bigger. Harry knew it wouldn’t be that great to start, hell, he didn’t even know if he would qualify for anything. When he would tell Reb this, Reb would just laugh his great, deep laugh and shake his head. “You got too much talent for that kinda worryin’; don’t they know who your daddy is?” Then they would both laugh.
“Reb ain’t gonna like it either,” he said sighing. Whenever he thought about Reb so did his dick, so he tried not to think about him when he was around others. He’d have a hell of a time explaining the bulge in his jeans. He pressed against the window frame and stifled a groan as he felt his stiffening cock press against the wood frame through his jeans. He closed his eyes and tried to erase Reb from his mind, tried to ease the pounding of his heart and the heat in his gut. “Damn Reb,” he groaned defiantly pressing his pelvis harder against the windowsill.
When he opened his eyes and saw Reb’s big old red truck coming to a stop just below in the driveway he thought he might be dreaming. He waited, his eyes wide, sweat that had been running down his face stung his eyes mercilessly. It wasn’t until he heard Ma call out that Reb was there that he kne
w it wasn’t a dream. He took a few deep breaths to steady his nerves and forced himself to walk to the bathroom where he splashed cold water on his face. When he looked up from the basin with water dripping off him, he found Reb standing in the doorway looking at him with deep brown eyes.
Harry’s bathroom was just above a patch of sweet lilac that grew wild around the ranch; Reb smelled of it and something else, straw or hay. Harry felt himself blush.
For a minute, neither man said anything. Reb was smiling, a knowing twinkle in his eye. Harry grabbed at a towel and pressed his face into it grateful for the reprieve. He could still feel the weight of his hard-on and could only hope that Reb didn’t notice.
“Reb, honey, you want something cold to drink?” Ma called from the bottom of the stairs. “ Is my good for nothing son up there? Not offering a guest anything to drink, you’d think he was raised outside and not in, Harry, you up there? I’m putting out some tea for you boys when you come down.”
Reb’s smile widened.
“What the hell you starin’ at?” Harry asked as he threw the towel at Reb and pushed past him and back into his room. Reb didn’t follow at first, only stood, and stared after Harry.
“I guess I was just wonderin’ when you were gonna tell me you were fixin’ on leaving is all,” Reb said from where he stood. “Does Dutch know?”
Harry glanced at him from the corner of his eye and went back to stuffing more items into the already bulging duffel.
“Dutch don’t even know how old I am, never mind what I’m doing.” Harry replied. “ He wants me here to do what he oughtta be doin,’ looking after his family. Hell he ain’t even here now, what a surprise!”
“Yeah but you’re going anyway, with or without Dutch’s say so.” Reb finally moved from the doorframe, into Harry’s room and perched on the edge of an old comfy chair Ma had moved in his room ages ago.
“So what?” Harry said. He couldn’t figure out why he was angry with Reb, but he was definitely angry.
“So nothin’ I’m glad your leavin’, get you gone boy, get you gone!” Reb was almost laughing, “It’s time you spread your wings.”
Harry wanted to punch him but instead he stopped packing, sat on the end of the bed, and stared at his feet. He began tapping his boots nervously. He could feel the burn that had been in his belly in the corners of his eyes. “Aww hell,” he grumbled, unable to look up.
“You don’t think I like the idea, do ya? Not one bit,” Reb said, standing up.
Harry listened to the sound Reb’s boots made on the floor, but he still wasn’t able to look up.
“You’re gonna make a fucking great ol’ bronc rider, don’t they know who your daddy is?” They both laughed at the familiar joke. Reb crouched down, put a hand on Harry’s shoulder, and quietly said, “you go boy, you go and then I’ll come one day to see ya, you won’t be back, we both know it.”
Harry finally looked up and noticed that Reb’s eyes were shining; he could feel the heat coming from Reb’s hand. “I’ll come back,” Harry said, his voice strangled, “I will—”
Reb put his other hand up to stop him. “Don’t say it, because I don’t want you to. I want you to prove your daddy wrong in every way and that means you don’t come back til you’re a huge hit, you hear?”
Harry nodded and took Reb's hand from his shoulder and held it until both men realized what was happening and pulled away. “Let’s go get some tea,” Reb said standing and straightening himself out. “It’s hotter than hell up here.”
Harry wondered if it was the same burn he felt inside that was making Reb hot.
The next morning Ma hurried Harry off to the train station before Dutch was due. There would be no stopping his father’s rage if somehow Harry and he managed to cross paths. Harry could tell by the look in Ma’s eyes that she still hadn’t quite puzzled out what she would tell Dutch but like Reb, she knew it was time for Harry to go.
“Now listen to me, I heard that they are letting people get on these damn trains with guns now! With guns, can you even imagine such a thing?” Ma said in a panic.
His sister placed her hand over her mothers unsteady ones and said, “Yeah but they ain’t loaded, Ma, you only listen to half the story,” Harry’s sister remarked, giving Harry a look they both understood.
“Your gun ain’t loaded is it, Harry?” Ma was following him closely and practically yelling at him.
“Ma, the gun ain’t loaded. They have to take them all before you sit down; they are all put in some safe somewhere. It's fine and I’ll be fine,” Harry said. He pulled his ticket from his pocket and got in line to board the train wishing his sister would drag their ma away so he could get on with the start of his new life.
“Heaven only knows if I’m doing the right thing letting you go like this, Harry, heaven only knows, but you’re twenty now and your daddy, he might never let you go, if only cuz he loves you so much.”
“Ma, I gotta go.” Harry leaned over and kissed his mother on the cheek. She grabbed him around the neck and pulled him close so that his new cowboy hat almost fell off. “Ma, come on, people are staring.” He looked around and could feel the familiar blush rise to his cheeks.
“I’ll miss you, Harry. Have fun and be careful out there,” his sister said pulling at their mother so Harry could board the train.
“Will do,” he said with a wink. The whistle on the train sounded, he heard someone shout ‘All aboard,’ and the train started rolling. He watched his sister and ma from the doorway until they were little more than specs in the distance. “Here goes nothin’,” he said making his way inside the train car. He walked up the aisle and peeked into the almost empty compartments nodding. He’d have his own; he just had to pick one.
It wasn’t until the train began to move that Harry was able to relax. He kept waiting to hear Dutch’s big booming voice calling after him and settled only when the noise of the train blocked out his thoughts with its steady rhythm that almost lulled him into a trance.
His sister had slipped a note in his pocket when they had hugged at the platform and he could feel it now tucked comfortingly inside his shirt pocket. He’d read it later like she had instructed, when he might feel a little lonesome. Reb had called earlier wishing him luck.
The train began to pick up speed and between the incessant motions and sounds Harry fell asleep and began to dream
It was hot, dusty and there was Reb looking so damn good, so close to being perfect. Harry found it hard to swallow. When he did, he tasted hay; the familiar smell that followed Reb mixed with the acrid taste of dirt and sweat. Reb was sitting on the fence not looking at Harry; instead, he was looking off into the distance. Harry could hear the horses moving about, hear the buzz of flies and saw the swarms of gnats that seemed to materialize in mid-air during the warm months. It had to be summer because he was hot, the air was sizzling, and the longer he stared at Reb the more he thought he could see the heat moving in waves around him.
“Crazy, crazy things go through a guy’s head in this heat.” Harry heard Reb’s voice even though he knew Reb hadn’t spoken. Reb still hadn’t even looked over at him; he was still staring out into the fields, and beyond. Harry could feel the weight of his cock between his legs, he was suddenly more aware of his cock then he had ever been. He needed Reb now, needed to quench his passion. Even in the intense heat, Harry felt his mouth begin to water.
“I want you so bad,” Harry heard himself mumble. “So bad,” he repeated quietly as a nearby a horse broke into a run; Harry could hear the pounding of its hooves in his ears. He felt his fingers unbuttoning the frayed jean vest he always wore when he was out working with the horses. It fell away as if it was made of air, as if it had never even existed. Reb still wasn’t looking but Harry could hear Reb’s voice in his ear.
“The heat makes you want crazy, crazy things,” Reb moved a little on the fence. Harry could hear Reb’s boots as he adjusted his feet. Every sound stroked Harry like a phantom hand, even the air seemed heavy,
the heat stroking him, forcing cold sweat to run down his back inciting a delicious shiver that made his nipples harden. He moaned out in need, his hand sliding down his hot body to stroke his hardening dick.
“I need you so bad, Reb,” Harry said again, this time he was certain he had said it aloud. “So so bad.” Harry’s other hand found its way to his chest, his fingers finding and fondling his nipples just to the point of pain and then letting go. “Don’t you want me, Reb?”
Harry didn’t question how he came to stand in front of Reb, he just was. The air was heavier than it had ever been, a storm was brewing in the distance, promises of rain danced in the air. Harry undid the button on his jeans, his hand slipping in his boxers, flesh on flesh; he urgently grabbed his cock and squeezed to stop the impending release. One thought came to mind, one face, one name, they all belonged to the man he was in love with. “Reb.” With heavy eyes, he noticed Reb looking down at him from where he sat with that half smile that always drove Harry crazy with desire. His pulse quickened his breaths now nothing more than pants, his hand worked faster to end the sweet torment.
“I want you too, Harry, it’s the heat though, makes me want you like I never wanted anything else. I want you like this land wants the rain.” Reb got down and pulled Harry so deliciously close so suddenly that Harry felt breathless. In all the years, he’d known Reb, they’d never been so close, and Harry could barely contain himself. He saw Reb’s wild blue eyes; and he could see not only himself in those eyes but the fields out beyond his father’s land. The world was in those eyes and Harry was part of Reb’s world.
“I want to kiss you, Harry,” Reb said taking a hold of Harry’s scruffy chin gently in his hand. “I want to,” Reb said pressing his lips roughly against Harry’s face, “Put my tongue in your mouth. I have to taste you.” Harry could smell Reb’s familiar hay smell and his sweet almost licorice breath. Harry felt his pulse begin to race; this is what he wanted he could only nod against Reb’s strong hands.
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