Red Dirt Heart

by N. R. Walker

  “Have you?”

  “What? You think it doesn’t bother me that I will have a solitary life? There’s no wife for me, no partner, no one to grow old with me. How the fuck am I ever gonna meet someone, a man for that matter, when I live in the middle of the desert, hours from another living person? No man would sign up for this life. No gay man.”

  “See, that’s where you’re wrong.”

  I scoffed and threw my hands up. “And what makes you the expert? You’ve been here for three fucking weeks!”

  He spun to look at me. He thumped his hand to his heart. “Because I would stay!”

  I shook my head, dismissing his words. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Frustrated or angry or possibly both, he thumped his chest again. “Ask me!”

  I opened my mouth and then closed it again. The words I wanted to say were stuck in my throat. “Ask you what?”

  “Ask me to stay!” he cried, throwing his hands up. “It’s not fucking difficult, Charlie. You open your damn mouth and you say ‘I don’t want you to go.’ Tell me you don’t know what it means, that this whole thing is confusing to you too, I don’t care, just tell me that it will break your heart if I get on that plane. Try telling me that, Charlie.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Tell me you’ll buy some proper fucking coffee and ask me to stay.”

  He clenched his jaw and his eyes shone with tears. “I thought you had demons, you know, like everyone else. But you’re not fighting demons, Charlie,” he said sadly. “You’re fighting a ghost. And you don’t even want to win.”

  “What do you want me to say?” I asked, probably louder than was necessary. “I grew up with that shit in my head, and I was resigned to bein’ out here by myself. What the fuck else could I do? I had to keep this place going, it’s in my blood, and if that meant never finding someone, then that’s what I had to do!” I told him. “And then you came here, and…”

  “And?”

  “I don’t know!” I cried, throwing my hands up. “You changed all that. Everything I thought I knew. You changed me.”

  He blew out a breath and started to smile.

  “I don’t know what it means,” I told him. “I don’t have a fucking clue what any of it means!”

  “If you want me to go,” he whispered. “If you really do, then tell me now.”

  I shook my head, reached out and grabbed his wrist. His eyes were so blue, so angry and hopeful. And as scared as I was, as much as I wanted to turn and run, I fucking stood there and let out a shaky breath.

  And then from outside, before I could say anything else, the word “fag” cut through the quiet, followed by loud arguing. I’d never had a fight here yet and I wasn’t about to start now.

  I ran out of the kitchen, got to the front screen door, ready to stop whatever was just about to start.

  I saw George first, standing in front of Fish. “I told you to shut your mouth,” George said. I’d never heard him speak like that. Ever.

  Fish threw his head back and laughed. It wasn’t a happy sound. “I saw those bites on him, but I didn’t know who did ’em. Presumed it was Trudy, or even your missus, George, and now you’s are telling me it’s Travis? All this time, the boss has been a fucking queer.”

  George stepped forward and swung his right fist, knocking Fish off the veranda. I burst out through the door, and George spun to face me. He looked horrified and sorry, and his anger was now tinged with sadness.

  Everyone was there. All my staff, and they stared at me. They knew I’m gay—they heard me talking to Travis, they saw the love bites—and they knew. There was no doubt.

  This. This was what I wanted to avoid. All my life. At all costs.

  I turned on my heel to go back through the house, but Travis was in the doorway. I took a sideways step, and backing away from everyone, and I ran.

  Just like I did when I was eighteen after I’d told my dad I was gay, and he told me I’d never be good enough. I ran then. And I ran now.

  I ran to Shelby, and without time to saddle her, I grabbed her mane above the hock and hauled myself up onto her. I kicked her hard in the flanks, and she bolted, straight to the only place I wanted to go.

  * * * *

  The scenery was the same. The red, red limestone ridge, the cluster of eucalypt trees and the clear blue water of the lagoon. It had been the same for tens of thousands of years.

  Except now it was different.

  He’d been here.

  With me.

  On the sheet of rock I sat on now, in the water. His laughter rang here. His hands had touched every inch of my skin here. He kissed me. I told him he was like no one else.

  My head was a fucking mess.

  He’d just told me he was falling in love with me. The most amazing gift, the biggest high. And then the ultimate low: my staff fighting over the one thing I’d tried to keep from them.

  For the first time in god knows how long, I had hope. I felt something with Travis, and to have him want to stay with me filled me with something I couldn’t quite name.

  And then to have stripped away, in the very next breath, almost made me wish I’d never known what it felt like to hope.

  I could kick myself for wanting.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man on a horse approaching. I recognised the way he sat in the saddle and, of course, the horse. I’d almost wished it was Travis, but in the end I was glad it wasn’t.

  The older guy got off his horse and walked over. “Got time for me, son?”

  “Always, George,” I answered. “Take a seat.”

  He sat down beside me, pulled off his boots, hiked up his jeans and put his feet in the water. He was quiet for a long while, and after a long slow breath, he said, “I understand if you have to let me go.”

  I shot him a look. “What?”

  “For punchin’ Fisher. I know you got no-fightin’ rules.”

  “George,” I said, shaking my head, disbelieving. “You’re… you… I can’t do this without you. You can’t go,” I stammered out.

  “I punched a man,” he started to say.

  “You didn’t just punch him,” I said. “You knocked him clean off the porch.”

  George almost smiled. “He was saying some not nice stuff.”

  “I heard.”

  George sighed, and he looked… sad. “I kept telling him to mind his own business, but he wouldn’t shut up. I won’t tolerate no one talkin’ ’bout you like that.”

  “It’s okay,” I said, my voice was just a whisper. Then I asked, “Have I got any staff left?”

  “All of ’em. Except Fisher. I told him to pack his bags and be gone by the time I got back.”

  “How did you know where I was?”

  He smiled that time. “You always come here to think, to get away.” He looked up at the sky and sighed. “You did as a kid. You still do.”

  “You know me well.”

  He was quiet again, the way he usually was. Then he said, “We had a son. Did you know that?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “His name was Joseph. He died when he was just a few days old,” he said.

  I could barely speak. “I didn’t know.”

  He looked out across the landscape for a long while. I guessed his memories took him back to a place he didn’t fancy going to often. Then out of the blue, he said, “Charlie, you’re like a son to me and Ma.” He kind of blurted it out, then shook his head, all kinds of embarrassed. “From the time you was born, when you rode your first pony, even when you were drivin’ her mad, you were the light in Ma’s eyes,” George said.

  “You and Ma mean the world to me.”

  Then his smile faded. “And there ain’t nothing that you could do or say that will change that,” he said. “It kills me to hear you think you’re not good enough. Charlie, you gotta get that voice outta your head. The one that tells you you’re not good enough.”

  I looked out over the water and swallowed down the lump in m
y throat.

  “My dad—”

  “I know what he said to you. I was there. It was the only time I ever disagreed with your old man.” He shook his head. “Charlie, you’re a better man than he ever was.”

  I nodded and scrubbed the back of my hand at my stupid tears.

  He gave me a minute, and then he said, “Can I ask you something?”

  I nodded. “’Course.”

  “Now, you know it don’t bother me none about who you fancy. It never has. Guess losing my own son taught me to appreciate rather than judge.” George looked at me then. “But what about Travis?”

  “What about him?”

  “We didn’t mean to be listenin’ but you’s was yellin’ a bit,” George said. “He doesn’t want to go.”

  “Now, he doesn’t. What about later?” I asked. “When he’s sick of this place? The heat, the isolation, the dust? What then?”

  “Not everyone’s set on leavin’ ya, Charlie.”

  I looked out across the horizon, not wanting to argue the point.

  He was quiet for a while. “That night you were looking for Travis, yellin’ his name,” he said, talking softly. “We heard you callin’ for him. Broke Ma’s heart every time you yelled his name.” He gave me a sad smile. “It got quieter the farther you went out, but it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to listen to.”

  I looked at him and instead of being able to speak, more tears fell down my face.

  “Charlie, how does he make you feel?”

  I scrubbed at my face and wiped my nose on the back of my hand. “What?”

  George smiled. “I’ll tell you something, and I don’t want you to go repeatin’ it to no one. But she makes me honest. I try harder because of that woman of mine, and I think if I can go to sleep each night knowin’ I did my best for her that day, then I did alright.”

  I smiled at him and my eyes welled with tears again. That was the closest thing to poetry I’d ever heard. They had a relationship, a partnership, spanning decades and I wanted that. With every cell in my body, I wanted to know what it felt like to love and to be loved like that.

  “I want that,” I said, barely getting the words out through my tears. “Why can’t I have someone to love me like that?”

  George’s face crumpled. “Charlie, son… you do.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “He’s back at the house, cursing your stubborn hide.”

  I stared at him, not really sure how to answer. “Oh.”

  “He’s a good man.”

  I nodded.

  “Do you want him to stay?”

  I swallowed again and let out a shaky breath. “More than anything.” It felt good to say that out loud, to admit it, was like a weight came off my shoulders. “Peace,” I finally admitted. “He makes me feel at peace. And happy. And scared shitless.”

  George smiled at me. “Sounds like love to me.”

  My eyes opened wide and I shook my head, but George just laughed. “I don’t care about what’s gone on between you,” he said. “Ain’t nobody’s business but yours. But he’s right about one thing.” I looked at him then, waiting for him to continue. “Ghosts ain’t no company for the living, Charlie,” he said quietly. “You need to let your father go.”

  I didn’t say anything to that. I guess my tears said it all.

  “And he’s right about something else.”

  I wiped my face. “Yeah, what’s that?”

  “You need to go tell that boy to stay.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Whoever sang about sorry bein’ the hardest word obviously never had to say goodbye.

  The ride home was slow and steady. George was beside me, letting me have my peace and quiet, but in a you’re-not-really-alone kind of way. I was in knots about facing him, excited and petrified in equal measure. Like I wanted to run to see him, but my body was too scared to move. As we neared the house, I broke the silence.

  “Do you think he’s still there?” I asked, wiping the sweat from my forehead. “What if he left with the others? What if he thought fuck this shit and left?”

  George did a mix of head-shaking and smiling. “He’s as stubborn as you. If he said he weren’t leavin’ then he’s not going anywhere.”

  “But what if he—”

  “Then you haul your arse into Alice and stop him.”

  I breathed out loudly and nodded. “And Fish is gone?”

  “And told never to come back,” George added. “I told him you’d sort out what he’s owed, and if he muttered one more word about Ma or you, I’d pull his head from his neck.”

  I snorted out a laugh, then sighed. “Thank you. And sorry. I’m sorry you had to do that, but I’m grateful that you did.”

  George gave me a smile and we rode our horses to the fence in the cooler shade near the shed. I climbed off Shelby and let the reins slip over her head. George took them off me. “You can’t put it off. He would’ve seen us come in. He knows you’re out here.”

  “I don’t know what to say to him.”

  “I ain’t no expert,” George said, “and God knows I’ve made mistakes that shoulda cost me more than they did, but I can tell ya the best place to start is with the truth.”

  And if I didn’t need any more encouragement, Shelby nudged me toward the house. The first few steps were the hardest. But then halfway across the yard, I kinda had to see him, and by the time I got to the veranda steps, I took them two at a time and called his name as I all but ran into the house. “Travis!”

  I looked right, into the lounge room, but he wasn’t there. So I ducked into the hall and checked my room. “Travis!” Then I checked his room, but still couldn’t find him. And it dawned on me, that maybe, just maybe, he’d gone.

  “Travis?” I called out as I made my way back into the foyer. He wasn’t in my office or the dining room. I all but ran into the kitchen. “Trav—”

  And there he was. Sitting at the table with the crutch at his side, eating a sandwich like it was just any old day, talking to Ma.

  They both stopped and stared at me. “Travis,” I said, out of breath. “I thought you’d gone.”

  “I told you I wasn’t going.”

  I grinned at him, and Ma stood up like she was about to leave, and smiled at me. “I was just telling Travis the story of when you rode your first bull,” she said. “You were six.”

  “It wasn’t a very big one,” I said, not taking my eyes off Travis.

  “It scared me half to death,” Ma said as she walked around the table to me. “And about a hundred things you’ve done since then. You’d think I’d be used to it by now.”

  “Ma,” I said, finally looking at her and fighting new tears. With everything George had told me still fresh in my head, I quickly scooped her up in a hug. “I got real lucky when you and George walked onto this farm. I couldn’t have picked a better mum than you.”

  I let her go, and she put her hand to her mouth. Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, love,” she said, her voice all croaky. She put one hand to my face.

  “I should have told you that before now.”

  Ma smiled as the tears rolled down her cheeks. She looked over to Travis. “Here, look at me, taking up all your time,” she said, shaking her head. “You two have so much to talk about. Where’s my Joseph Brown?” she asked, but more to herself, because she was already walking into the foyer.

  I looked at Travis then, knowing this was it.

  “I’m sorry I ran,” I said. I swallowed hard. “It’s not easy for me to talk about things, and you just blurt them all out like it’s no big deal. I can’t do that. Well, I mean, I’ll have to learn how to do that.”

  Travis smiled, and taking his crutch, he stood up and slowly walked over to me. “You just managed with Ma okay.”

  “That took me twenty years to say that.”

  Travis chuckled and stood in front of me. “Will it take that long with me?”

  I shook my head. “No.” I put my hand to his face and ran the pad of my thumb along his cheek.
“I have something really important to tell you,” I said.

  “What’s that?” he asked quietly, still smiling.

  I stared into his eyes so he would see the sincerity. I swallowed hard—my mouth was suddenly dry. “Stay.”

  Travis grinned. “You’re a bit late.”

  I nodded. “I know. But I should have said it before. I want you to know that I want you here. More than anything.” Then I said it again. “Stay,” I said, louder this time. “You’re right. I don’t know what this means, and I don’t know how long it will be before this land drives you away from me, but I don’t want you to get on that plane.”

  Travis smiled at my tirade. “You found some words.”

  I just kept going. “I want you to stay. With me. Here, in the middle of fucking nowhere, but I think if you gave it a chance, you’d learn to love it too.”

  He was grinning now. “I already do love it here. I wouldn’t stay if I didn’t,” he said softly. He cupped one hand to my face and ran his thumb across my bottom lip. “But I’m not staying because of the farm, Charlie. I’m staying for you.”

  “You really are, aren’t you?”

  He nodded and leaned in as if to kiss me. His face was so close to mine. “Well, you did ask.”

  I laughed, relieved, and he pulled my face to his, pressing his lips to mine. “You’re a stubborn man.”

  “You know,” he said. “Me being stubborn saved George a trip to Alice and you a trip to airport.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, George would have had to have driven me to town, then you would have stayed here and been all impossible, and Ma would have yelled at you for a being an arse and then you would have taken the chopper to the airport to stop my plane. It would have been all romantic and shit but expensive all round and completely unnecessary.”