Right Now This Ain't Real To You/Fourteen

Tim arrived outside my bedroom window the following morning. From his new place, just south of town, I was now on his way to the barn, so, when he’d dropped me off the evening before, he’d promised to pick me up a bit before dawn. My dad was also up and about, as he went in to the office very early. I wished I could crawl through the darkness, through my bedroom window, out to Tim, and, not have to walk through the bright light of the kitchen and face my father. I had instructed Tim not to come to the door, as he would get the dogs barking, and, wake the rest of the family.
I quickly pulled a sweatshirt on over my tight t-shirt, and, left my bedroom to make my way gingerly through the kitchen, where my father was having his morning coffee. “Want some coffee?” he wanted to know, cheerfully. “No,” I replied hesitantly, and, added, “My ride is waiting.” “Your ride?” my dad asked, and, peered at me over the top of his reading glasses with piercing blue eyes. “Tim,” I said curtly. I was trying to discourage any further questioning. My father, generally, had no idea what was happening in my life, however, occasionally, out of the blue, he’d be extremely conversational, and, begin to ask probing questions which made me excruciatingly uncomfortable. I could see in his face that he wanted this to be one of those times. “I have to go,” I said, breathlessly. “Alright,” my father said, with a sigh, returning to his newspaper. “Just make sure you get to school on time,” he added. I thought to myself, why? I was failing all of my classes. I was supposed to have graduated as a junior, however, had lost half a credit in every class, due to the frequent skipping of school that year, which had occurred, mostly, in the company of my friend Doug. I also rarely did homework. “Of course,” I replied quickly, and, kissed Zippy goodbye.
I could see Tim’s shadowy figure, waiting for me, beside his pickup. I approached him somewhat shyly, suddenly acutely aware of how very tall he was, and, feeling very small.
He bent to pull me quickly into his arms, whispering in my ear how lonely he’d been the night before. Surprised, I peered into his face, feeling quite…pleased. He pushed me away with a small laugh, and, opened his door for me to crawl in, patting me on the bottom as I did so. I glanced quickly behind me to make certain no one was watching.

On the way to the barn, we stopped at the convenient store to, as Tim put it, “Coffee Up.” Walking out of the darkness into bright fluorescent lighting of the store gave me a strange sense of reality. So often, while I was with Tim, it seemed as if I was living in a special, secret world, apart from reality. The clerk in the store was an old schoolmate of mine, and, he looked at Tim curiously as took the money for our coffee. We lived in a very small town, and, no doubt Darwin was trying to work out who Tim was, and, just what it was I was doing with him.
We rode the rest of the way to the barn in silence. I could not chase away the thoughts of the afternoon before, and, what had transpired. I wondered if Tim was thinking about it, as well. I wondered if he thought me naïve, or, silly, and, if he had regrets for getting involved with me. I wondered if he was remembering what I looked like, naked, in the bright afternoon light of his bedroom. These thoughts loomed so large that they blocked any others, preventing me from even making small talk with this cowboy. I couldn’t even sing along to the radio, as Tim was doing.
When we pulled up to the barn, Tim leaped out, and, grabbed my hand, helping me down. “How are you so energetic in the morning,” I wondered. He said, cheerfully, “Don’t you know? The morning is the best time of the day! It’s all fresh and new, and full of possibility. If you get up early, you get a head start on everybody!” I looked at him with some surprise. I couldn’t believe all that had come from the mouth of my cowboy. He was always surprising me. I, too, was a morning person, however, for some reason, I kept this to myself. It didn’t go with the image I was trying to create for myself. He was looking at me, and, in that moment, I realized that he was thinking about yesterday afternoon. My gaze fell away from his. Standing with him, in the dark quiet of the early morning, with the robins singing stridently all around, the smell of horses wafting along the breeze, knowing the intimacy we had shared only hours before, was a moment of acute intensity—too much for my young mind. I stared at his chest, which was just above my eye level. He turned me around quickly, then, and, patted me on the bottom in his customary style. “Time to get to work, kiddo,” he said, stating the obvious, and, ending the moment. Perhaps the moment had been just a bit too intense for him, as well. Something far down inside of me hoped that this was the case-- that I moved him at least partially as much as he clearly moved me.
As we rode, that morning, I had constant bouts with butterflies in my tummy—it seemed that every time he looked my way, I melted, and, he looked my way a great deal. I had difficulty focusing on what I was doing, and, made a couple of really silly training mistakes. As I was climbing off my last two year old, some of the other men who worked at the barn began to arrive. Most were from Mexico, and, Tim was chatting enthusiastically with one of them, the apparent boss of the stable boys, Gabriel. I had learned that Tim spoke fluent Spanish, which had earned him a bit of respect with the Mexican workers. As Tim was talking to Gabe, he kept looking my way, and, soon, he broke away and strode over to where I was hosing off a two year old filly I had been riding, “I know I’m going to hate myself for doing this, but, you wanna skip school today?” He asked, grinning. I couldn’t believe it. I wondered if he was serious, and, hesitated, not wanting to fall into a trap.
“I just don’t wanna take you to school today, Darlin’,” he explained, somewhat sheepishly, “’Sides, I gotta go outa town tomorrow, and, I’m gonna be gone a week.” My heart sank. I had been so thrilled only a second before. Now, the thought of him being gone a week, being at a horseshow with so many other pretty girls, made me feel slightly ill. The horseshow set, which I was very familiar with, was its own little community, with its own set of rules. For some reason, most of the girls who showed horses were very pretty. I recall taking a family friend to a show, once, and, him remarking that he had never seen so many beautiful girls in one place. And, these girls were sophisticated, and, early to mature. I had never been allowed to be a part of that social environment, but, had always looked, longingly, from the outside in. We ran with the older set, where I had always been treated like a kid sister.
He must have made careful note of my crestfallen expression, because he quickly looped his arm around my neck, and, planted a kiss on the top of my head, “Ah, Darlin’, don’t start makin’ me feel like a dirtball. I can’t take that shit. I gotta go. You know that,” he said softly, and, somewhat pleadingly. I could see Gabriel watching us, and, I pulled away. “Ah, now yer mad at me!” he exclaimed, forlornly, following behind as I led the filly back to her stall. “I don’t get mad,” I said quietly, closing the stall door behind the filly, and, turning to face him. I was being fairly truthful. I hadn’t lost my temper since I was a young child. “I don’t believe that,” he said knowingly. I met his gaze bravely, feeling inexplicably powerful, in that moment(though, I would have felt far more powerful had I not had to lean waaaaay back to meet his eyes). He put his long fingers under my chin and said very softly, “Why do you have to look so young?” I said nothing to that. What could be said that wouldn’t simply make him more aware of my youth? “I’m going to go ride Betty,” I said, breaking his gaze with some difficulty. Betty was up at Wayne’s to get bred. We were hoping that Jerry, Wayne’s stallion manager, could get her in foal. Betty was notoriously hard to settle. She’d been bred for four years, and, only had one foal, a son, whom we'd named Clark Gable. Tim followed me down to the mare barn, where Betty was stalled. She must have smelled me on the breeze, as she began hollering for me before I even started down the hill. As far as I knew, Tim hadn’t seen Betty since all those years ago at Fort Robinson, when we had almost lost her.
Betty was all kisses, and, ignored Tim completely. I had Betty’s bridle over my shoulder, already—just a simple curb bit—and slipped it on her easily. I looked at Tim, who immediately moved to give me a leg up. He surprised me by climbing on, behind me. Betty danced around, not certain she liked this new situation. Betty was not the easiest going mare in the world, and, I don’t believe she had ever been ridden double, particularly bareback. I spoke quietly to her, as I always did when she was nervous or upset, and, she calmed right down, as she always did. I guess Betty figured if it was okay with me, it was going to be okay for her. Despite Betty’s height (Betty was almost sixteen hands: A big mare), Tim’s feet dangled far below her barrel—absurdly close to the ground. Betty’s ears were moving backward and forward, and, her eyes kept rolling back to look at us, as she tried to work out what this giant was doing sitting behind her familiar small rider.
The giant’s hands were everywhere as we started down the gravel road which led us away from Wayne’s. I sat rather stiffly in front of him, as I was unused to riding this way. Like Betty, this was new to me. Tim said, in my year, “Don’t you ever ride double?” “No!” I said, laughing, “Not since my sister was about three, and, never bareback double!” “My big sister and little brother and I used to ride, all three of us, bareback on my old mare all over California” he said. I smiled at the thought, a bit surprised. Tim rarely spoke about himself, and almost never spoke of his childhood. I hadn’t known he’d lived in California, and, hadn’t known he had an older sister and younger brother. I had a difficult time imagining Tim as a kid. He seemed so ageless, really, and, so…worn, in a way.

I had to admit to myself that riding like this, with Tim, on my dear Betty, was an extremely pleasing experience. The sun had come up, new and soft, and, the smell of damp earth and alfalfa was strong around us. Betty was warm, under my legs, and, Tim was warm against my back. I could feel his breath in my ear. I always felt a strong communion, alone and bareback on my horses. This was something I had never thought to share with another human. The frequent moving of my family, due to my dad’s job, and, my involvement in the horse business, had left me with a childhood that was very isolated, and, it was foreign, as well as somewhat delicious to feel so emotionally connected, in that moment. The feeling frightened me, slightly, and, I shivered as an inexplicable feeling of doom poked at the edge of my consciousness. Tim’s hands had quit their roaming, and, now, rested quietly in my lap. His head nestled close to my own, and, we road in silence, with only the sound of Betty’s feet crunching on the gravel, and, the sound of the birds, instead of the radio, to keep us company. I wanted that moment to go on forever.

I spoke, then, breaking the silence for a moment, when Betty darted a bit, “Betty is a bit spooky, so, don’t get too relaxed.” Tim laughed softly, “She oughta be dead broke, by now, yer ole’ mare,” he said. “Betty has never been dead broke,” I confessed, quietly, “That’s why I still have her. We couldn’t sell her. We’re hoping Jerry can get her in foal, this year.” I explained to him Betty’s trouble, and, also, tried to explain Betty’s desperate need to be a mom. Tim laughed at my stories of Betty stealing other mare’s babies. “It’s a shame that someone who wants to be a mama so bad can’t stay in foal,” he said softly. “I know,” I said sadly. “I sure hope you ain’t in foal,” he said, suddenly, catching me off guard. I was so surprised by his statement, I couldn’t speak a word. We rode in uncomfortable silence for a few moments, before he added, “I’ve been covering you at least twice a day since our first time naked together, and, I ain’t been takin’ no responsibility at all.” “How do you know I’m not on The Pill or something?” I asked, somewhat annoyed that he had assumed that I was not. “Are you?” he asked softly. My instinct was to lie(I did that a lot), however, for some reason, I did not. “No,” I admitted. “You got a doctor?” he asked me, gently. I thought of our family doctor, who had put no less than half a dozen casts on various parts of my body. “My dad would find out, though,” I said painfully. “You ain’t never been to a female doctor?” he asked, sounding surprised. I could not admit to him that I had not, so, I said nothing. He then answered his own question, “I don’t guess you would have. I keep forgettin’ yer only seventeen.” He kept forgetting? God, I hadn’t noticed. I wished he would forget about my age. “I don’t really want to talk about this right now,” I said, loathe to completely lose the feeling of communion I’d been reveling in only moments before. “I know, Darlin’, and, I’m sorry I scared you. We’re gonna have to talk about this some time, though,” he said, kissing my neck. Had I been standing up, no doubt he’d have patted me on the bottom, then. And, how had he known he’d frightened me? “It ain’t yer fault, sweetheart. Yer just a little girl. I’m the one shoulda been knowin’ better. You just turn my brain to mush, when you look at me, and, I can’t hardly remember my name, much less to keep from puttin’ a baby in yer little belly,” he said, very softly. I know that he was trying to make me feel better; however, he was simply making me feel like a teenaged delinquent, in that moment. Tim had this unique, and, mostly, charming way of talking to me as if I was the only female on earth, while at the same time being somewhat matter of fact about things which were sacred, to me.
I was afraid to say a word -afraid to give him even more leverage with which to hold my age over my head. I wanted to ask him, if I’m just a little girl, then why are you fucking me? I knew if I used the, ‘F,’ word, it would get his attention. And, it had been a question on the tip of my tongue for some time. I feared that, one day, I would just blurt it out. Today, however, I just didn’t have the courage. I did move his hand from my lap to my thigh, however. Why had he ruined our moment by bringing up something that was so embarrassing? I felt him sigh, before he said, “I’ve pissed you off again.” I said, with some exasperation, “I’m not mad. And, I’m not…pregnant. We haven’t even done it during…that time, yet.” What time is that, Sugar?,” he wanted to know. I hesitated, again, embarrassed. “During my period,” I said with great difficulty, my voice barely a whisper. “Oh. No, I don’t guess we have, Darlin’.” We rode in silence for a few more moments. Betty had relaxed, and, was walking along with her ears forward, enjoying her morning, oblivious to the conversation that was going on atop her back. “Shell?” Tim said my name, softly. “Yes,” I replied, bracing myself for more embarrassment, “I don’t think that’s how it works,” he said, very softly, kissing my ear. “How what works?” I wondered. “I don’t think you get pregnant during that time of the month, Darlin' “ he replied, gently. Oh. I supposed he likely knew more about this subject than I, so, I dared not argue. I had, however, been operating under the assumption that menstruation was rather like a mare’s heat cycle. We always bred mares when they were in heat, so, I surmised that that is when a female was likely to get pregnant. I knew that Tim and I had not made love when I was menstruating, so, assumed that I was not at risk for getting pregnant. I sighed, hugely, and, leaned back against him. It was all too much for me to contemplate, so, I surrendered to the moment. He seemed willing to let it go, for the time being, and, I was willing to let him. We rode awhile longer in silence, while Betty occasionionally threatened to dart out from underneath us, spying a pheasant taking wing, or, a plastic bag blowing in the morning breeze. Strangely, Tim seemed to accept this, and, adjust to it easily. It was Betty’s way.
After awhile, I could hear Tim’s lighter, and, knew he was lighting a joint, which he reached around and handed to me. We passed the joint back and forth, for a time, until it was time to turn back. I wondered if he still planned on letting me skip school. I couldn’t imagine how on earth I would face school, today. I just couldn’t. And, I couldn't believe how green all the trees were, and, the alfalfa, which surrounded us on the way back.