Royal Atlas

by HJ Bellus

  I’d give anything to snap a picture of it, but it’s their private moment and just standing here watching seems like too much. After the round of hugs have been exchanged, Guy steps back running both hands through his hair this time.

  “Holy shit,” he whispers, shaking his head back and forth.

  “Amos junior here at least had enough decency to invite us to your damn wedding, chump,” Garcia says.

  Guy whirls on his feet, hugging me to his chest, and then spinning me around. “Jesus, I love you.”

  “You deserve this, baby, have fun.”

  I hear new footsteps joining us. Guy sets me down on my feet and we all turn to see my momma, dad, and grandpa joining our group. The men all turn somber with respect streaming off them.

  “Welcome to Beartooth Ranch, boys.” Grandpa is the first to break the silence.

  They all nod and step up to shake his hand. Grandpa has been the rock for our family since I can remember. In this moment, he cracks. His strong shield dissolves before us as he meets the men who fought side-by-side with Amos.

  He wipes a few tears from his eyes as he meets the men. Nothing, but respect is shown from both sides. Long moments of silence dominate the group until Grandpa has the time needed to get himself together.

  “Men, it’s an honor.” He nods, turns, and walks back up to the porch.

  On instinct, I go to him, but my dad grabs me by the arm halting me.

  “He needs a second, Hop. He’ll be okay.”

  It takes everything inside of me to turn around and go back to Guy’s side. I’ve never seen Grandpa physically hurt. It’s like having the ground literally swallow you whole. Momma introduces herself and is excited to meet each of the men, same with dad.

  Guy takes the men on a tour of the ranch and I join my momma in the kitchen to finish dinner. She’s made one of Amos’ favorite meals of fried chicken and mashed potatoes. After everything is set and ready, the men aren’t back so I head up to Amos’ room.

  I twist the knob slowly and enter. I haven’t been back in here since the day of the funeral. His smell has vanished just as he did. It overwhelms and pains me. Walking over to his window, I pull back the curtains. A cloud of dust follows the movement and then I make eye contact with the men talking and laughing about something. And even though he’s gone, it’s like he came home in a strange way.

  It hurts, but it’s so bittersweet. It’s the fact of life we are facing right now. Deep down, I know he’s up in heaven smiling down on us. He wants us to be proud. I turn from the window and sit in the center of the floor running my fingers over the blue braided rug.

  Hours and hours were spent playing all sorts of games we made up. Amos was always the boss and won, but it’s the memories we made that mean everything to me. I crawl up into his bed fisting the pillows for just one lingering scent of him. But nothing comes except the tears and sorrow of losing him.

  I have no idea how long passes before the door creaks open. I don’t have to look up to know who is there.

  “Baby? Oh Hop.”

  The bed dips with his weight on it. Strong arms wrap around me, pulling me to Guy’s chest.

  “I know it hurts, baby, so Goddamn much.” He hugs me so tightly I’m unable to inhale oxygen. “Never thought it would hurt this damn bad.”

  We stay wrapped up in each other until our pain is dulled just enough to carry on. It’s just like the ways we’ve been spending our days since Amos died. He brushes my hair back from my face and kisses me softly on the lips.

  “This is true love, baby. You can call it faith or destiny, but it was all supposed to happen. Us.”

  I nod unable to speak, but his words couldn’t ring any truer. He’s my rock and everything that makes the world continue to spin around.

  “You know he’d kick my ass right now knowing that you’re crying days before your wedding.”

  A giggle escapes me. “Yes, he would.”

  “Let’s go eat, Hop, and try to enjoy our time.”

  “Thank you.” I pet his long beard. “For everything, Guy. I would’ve died right along with Amos if it wasn’t for you.”

  A loud ruckus ensues downstairs followed by laughter and howls.

  “Balls must be in full display.”

  “Balls?” I ask.

  “We all have names for each other. Kind of a bro code thing we are only allowed to call each other by them.”

  “What’s yours?” I ask.

  He grimaces for a beat before responding. “Pussy Boy.”

  “Pussy Boy?” I asked trying to mask the grin taking over.

  “See there was this girl back in the States that I was absolutely head over heels for and was appropriately deemed with the name Pussy Boy.”

  “I like it. I’ll have to try it out on you one day.”

  We both stand and I straighten out my clothes and pat my face dry. It feels nice to be able to remember again.

  “Pussy boy.” I grab his forearm. “What was Amos’ nickname?”

  He grins widely. “Sponge Bob. He annoyed the fuck out of everyone.”

  We both laugh at the perfect nickname for him. By the time we make it downstairs all the men are gathered around our table ready to eat. It’s surreal, comforting, and a happy feeling to have our house alive and happy once again.

  The men don’t waste time filling their plates after Grandpa blessed the food. They inhale the food mumbling their praise around mouthfuls. Guy reaches over and grips my hand. When I turn to him he smiles at me and then leans to my ear.

  “Thank you so much for giving me this, Hop.”

  I tell him he’s welcome by giving him a sweet and quick kiss.

  Garcia catches us in the act. “See he still lives up to his nickname.”

  The men erupt in laughter and my mother questions them wanting in on the inside joke.

  “It’s nothing Brenda,” Guy growls while sending his friends a glare.

  “Some things should stay among men.” Dad pats my mom’s shoulder.

  The men also blow through the dessert before busting out some beer. Guy doesn’t indulge with them.

  “What do you do for entertainment around here?” Simpson asks.

  We’ve made it out to the porch while Grandpa went off to bed and Mom and Dad head into town for something.

  “Molly,” Stent answers for Guy.

  Guy punches him in the arm and then growls.

  “She is one fine piece of ass.” Richards gyrates behind me while moaning.

  “Dumbass.” Guy shoves him away.

  I giggle at the men’s interactions.

  “You think this is funny?” Guy quirks an eyebrow at me then pulls me down into his lap.

  “I like seeing you get all worked up.”

  “I’ll show you worked up, baby,” he whispers in my ear.

  This is leading in one direction and it’s not a good one, so I go for a change of subject.

  “There’s a local bar that’s pretty fun,” I suggest.

  “Lots of pussy?” One of the men asks.

  I stand up while the men go into another fit of conversation. “Why don’t you guys head down there and enjoy? I’ll stay back and get some light work done.”

  “No, Molly, you have to come. I plan to grab your ass and give Pussy Boy here a heart attack.” Stent holds his hands up. “Please, Molly.”

  I shake my head trying to hold back the laughter. “Go have fun and be all men like.”

  I give Guy a kiss and feel his smile under my lips. “I love you, Guy. Go have fun.”

  He kisses me back hard letting his tongue sweep into my mouth. He grabs the back of my head pulling me in tighter. We don’t break the kiss even when the men pepper us with hoots and hollers.

  28

  Molly

  “Dick slapping. Socially acceptable? Asking for a friend.” -Amos

  “Dumb fucker.” Someone roars.

  I wipe the sleep away from my eyes and crawl from the warm blankets. It sounds like a goddamn herd of
wild bulls are busting through the door.

  There’s a loud thump and then another roar of laughter ensues.

  “Jesus, I can’t get the three wasted bastards to bed.”

  When I open the door a mess of drunken men come into view. I have no idea what time it is, but it’s pitch black out. The smell of liquor and cigarette smoke nails me as I take in the men.

  “Brought your cowboy home.” Stent pushes a stumbling Guy forward.

  I gasp and then cover my mouth when he comes into view. It takes everything in me not to giggle. He has a cowboy hat sat crooked on his head. It looks like it’s been stomped on over and over again. A red bandana is tied haphazardly around his neck.

  “Save a horse, ride a cowboy,” Guy slurs out. He tries to sing the rest of the song, but it’s just a jumbled mess.

  “Come here, baby.” I hold my hand out to him.

  He takes it, but stumbles right into me. One of the men grabs him from the back, but he too is way too drunk. I step out of the way letting the two men tumble forward face first onto the floor. I realize it’s Garcia once they land.

  “I’m sorry, Molly,” Stent offers while dragging his hand over his short, dark hair.

  A burst of giggles escapes me and then I can no longer control the laughter, bent over laughing my ass off. Stent joins in on the laughter as the two move a little on the ground.

  “You’re chill, Molly. Most women would be pissed off.”

  I grab his arm and try to explain the feelings coursing through me. “You have no idea how Guy has been. It’s good to see him living again, beyond good actually.”

  He nods his head. “I understand.”

  Stent steps into the room, pulling Garcia up from the floor by the back of his collar. “I’ll take this joker and you get the other one.”

  “Deal,” I say and then catch the ink on his forearm. “Did Guy do that?”

  He holds his arm up in the light. There’s a glaze of clear ointment around it, but no bandage. Stent nods.

  “We all got it.”

  “You guys are crazy.” I shake my head looking at the yellow character on his arm.

  It takes Stent a few minutes to get Garcia out the door. I make sure the yard is lit up to the bunkhouse, so none of them break a bone or gain a concussion. Once their bodies disappear into the bunkhouse, I shut the door and then lock it.

  When I turn back around, Guy is perched on the side of the bed still wearing his cowboy hat crooked on his head with a big ass goofy smile on his face. This time he tries to sing “Cowboy” by Kid Rock. Laughter escapes me again and Guy frowns at me clearly not amused that I’m not turned on by his singing.

  “By all means, keep going, baby.” I step towards him.

  “You gonna ride me like I’m Seabiscuit?” He reaches and gropes both of my boobs.

  His hands fumble as his smile widens. His toothy grin makes me smile again.

  “How about we get your boots off first, tiger.”

  “No, you’re going to ride me like I’m a Goddamn champion.” He drops his hands to my ass pulling me to him.

  Our chests collide together as we tumble back on the bed. His awkward hands still fumble along my ass. He not so rhythmically gyrates his hips upwards and then rolls us over so he’s on top of me. He rearranges the crumpled black velvet cowboy hat atop his head.

  Guy sends me a wink through his blood shot eyes and then licks my face.

  “Hey, I thought I was going to ride you, Seabiscuit.”

  “Oh, shit yes. Ride me, baby, like I’m the studliest horse on the block.” His words slur together.

  Any moment he’ll be out like a light. He rolls us over once again being careful of my healing arm. I push up off his chest to straddle his hips. He bucks them up hitting my center.

  “God, you’re a damn angel, baby. I love you so much.” He reaches up to grab one stray curl.

  “I love you, too.”

  “My world is so complete now, Molly.”

  “I know, baby.”

  His eyes begin to flutter shut, so I take advantage of his state and crawl off him. I untie his boots and then pull each one off. There’s no way I’ll be able to get the jeans off this drunk giant, so I switch off the lights and then crawl in the bed next to him.

  His breathing is rhythmic and deep, but as soon as I cuddle up next to him, he rolls to his side, and pulls me to his chest. I kiss the front of his neck a few times before I drift off into my future.

  29

  Guy

  “Bird shit happens.” -Amos

  “I’m not drinking today.” I shove the beer back to Garcia.

  “Don’t want whiskey dick on your wedding night?” Simpson laughs deeply.

  “Fuck off,” I growl.

  It took me a whole goddamn day to recover from my night out with the men. I haven’t been in that much pain since my damn high school days. It was a quaint reminder of never drinking again. There’s just bits and blurs of that night. I’m pretty sure I rode a random horse out in a pasture and also told Molly to ride me like Seabiscuit.

  Molly, God I miss her, I know it’s only been one day apart and not even a full day at that. Her momma being in full bridal mode has kept Molly in the house all day. Hair and make-up people have come and gone along with the caterers and floral people. It’s been quite the circus and production, but all so special in the same essence.

  Molly not only brought all my brothers here today for our special moment, but she also had tuxes ordered for them. They’ll be at my side on the hill we laid Amos to rest while I take Molly as my wife for the rest of my days.

  “It’s time,” Brenda Marshall hollers from the front porch.

  It’s just like how she used to call us for dinner back in the day. The three of us would sprint up to the porch racing to beat each other with muddy clothes and dirty hands. Amos always won, but that was only because I’d stay back and help Molly. My heart has always been hers.

  We walk up to the grassy hill as a group of broken men trying to put our lives back together. It seems we are doing it step by step. When I inked the men, we’d talked about shit that I never thought we would. I’d always thought it was my fault for Simpson losing the ability to walk because I’d looked away just for a second and that’s when the IED went off.

  But it wasn’t that at all. Simpson told me he’d tripped over a rock even though he’d seen the line, but he couldn’t prevent the fall. He holds no judgment or anger toward me. Actually, the man has probably come to terms better than the rest of us. He’s living life, following his dream by going back to school to get his law degree and the fact is if he can do it any of us can.

  The hill is filled with wildflowers of all varying colors and lined white chairs and guests. There’s a happy country tune playing in the background. The feeling streaming through the air is contagious and light. Pretty much foreign to me, but I’m adjusting.

  I stand under the archway fidgeting with the white collar strangling my bulging neck. I undo the first button and loosen the tie. Brenda would have a fit since we had to compromise on a white button up shirt with a royal blue tie. She wanted the whole tux costume on me, but I didn’t. I needed to be me.

  As the time passes even more, I roll up the sleeves on my arms. The men stand quiet behind me causing me to become even more nervous. I’ve never in my life been on edge like this. Time seems to creep by just irritating me to the max. I need to see her now and give her my last name.

  A hushed sound gains my attention, and when I look up, I see Molly walking toward the archway with her dad and grandpa on each side of her. It’s cliché as fuck, but she still takes my breath away and I feel the tears well up inside.

  She’s fucking gorgeous in her simple white dress. Her hair is down in long, dark curls framing her face perfectly. There’s no veil to block her beauty from me. Her make-up is simple and the bouquet in her hands only lights up her face.

  Molly is smiling with happiness radiating off her. I bite down on my bottom lip
to hold myself in place and not run to her. If I move, I’d scoop up that woman and run off with her. My fingers itch to peel that damn dress off her and take her.

  A large hand pats down on the top of my shoulder and I turn to see Stent smiling back at me. He sends me one encouraging nod before I turn back to Molly. “Beautiful Drug” by The Zac Brown Band ends and I realize I didn’t even know it had started. Molly and I spent an afternoon picking out our songs for the wedding. Our love is a powerful one and damn difficult to nail down.

  The pastor who led Amos’ funeral clears his throat. “Who gives this bride away?”

  “Her family,” Grandpa replies.

  In the same moment, her dad reaches over and kisses her cheek. Molly turns and hugs both of them for a long time. My chest fucking cracks open at the serene moment.

  She finally steps up and faces me with a glowing grin.

  “Fuck this,” I hiss.

  I step up to her, pull her low around the waist until our chests meet, and kiss the ever loving hell out of her. Everyone laughs at the movement and then the pastor clears his throat once again. I pull back from Molly’s sweet lips. Her petite palms pat my chest before she takes half a step back. Our smiles mirror each other.

  The pastor asks everyone to bow his or her head as he gives a quick prayer. He begins in on a talk about undying love and how marriage is hard work. All I can think about while staring into Molly’s eyes is that this will be the easiest thing I ever do. I miss most of his words while drowning in my girl.

  We decided to write our own vows.

  “Molly Marshall, I love you and in those three simple words I promise to love you forever. It’s my main goal in life to give you everything you ever need or deserve. In all honesty, I’ve loved you since the first day I came to this ranch. You were always there much to your brother’s dismay.” I pause letting everyone enjoy a light laugh. I’m relieved when I don’t see sadness cross her features. “We’ve grown up together on this ranch, enjoyed happy moments, and endured pain and loss, but it’s here where we will live out the rest of our happy days together as man and wife.”