This is a short story and, yes, it is based upon the Kenny Chesney song x) There are going to be an estimated 5 parts, and this is the first.
Enjoy.
"Dear Lord God," I say, pressing my hands together against my head, elbows resting on the edge of the wooden coffee table. "I know I ain't much for prayin', but I'm a li'l confused. Alla them people keep on a'tellin' me that shit buffs out in the end, it'll all be okay in the end, but I gotta say I highly disagree with 'em. It's seemin' like the end fo' me, and it ain't gettin' any better. I'm hangin' on a thin rope here, Father. I'm frayin' a li'l, and in a minute I'm gonna fall. Show me where to go, God, show me..." I pause for a moment, staring at the chipped ceiling, attempting to look into the eyes of God. The ceiling retains its grim shad of off-white and all is still in my living room. "Fuck it," I say, standing up. "I always knew you ain't there."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
One March evening after dinner during my senior year, my father asked me to remain in the dining room with him after the rest of the family had left the table. This was a usual routine in the household, and usually transpired whenever my father felt the need to chastise one of his children. But this night was different; it was possibly the most important night in my life thus far.
For a moment we stood there, staring at each other, and I vaguely wondered if he could even summon up the courage to speak. But then he reached out and embraced me, holding me in as closely as possible. The hazy smell of old tobacco floated from its place in the stitches of his overalls to my nostrils. It was a familiar smell, the smell of my beloved father. And the feeling itself of being held so tightly by my father was pleasant as well, as it was the first time this event had taken place. For once, I could feel his love seeping into my skin.
"I'm truly proud of you, my boy," he whispered in my ear. "You've done your old man good."
Thank you, I thought, but did not say anything. There was no need for me to speak.
He pulled away, keeping his heavy hands on my shoulders, staring me in the eyes, an exultant smile spread across his wrinkled face. "The first Tremonti to get into the big schools is my own son, my Colten, my boy. I cannot describe how proud I am."
I shook my head. "It's okay, I know."
"I know I ain't been able to give you much. Hell, I can't even pay for the University stuff. But I done given you my love, and I suppose that's been good enough for you." I could almost see a tear forming in the corner of his right eye, an unusual occurrence for my usually gruff father.
"It's okay, Pa, the school's payin' for it. I made the scholarship. I'm gonna go do somethin' big in the world, jus' like we always wanted. Your love was all I ever needed."
He hugged me again; so close that I could hear the faint beating of his old heart. "I love you," he whispered.
That night I was sitting on the couch next to my older brother, Lyle, who was reading a magazine. I gazed lazily at the floral-painted wall, dreaming of the wonders of my future. I would be the first Tremonti to move out of town. I would go down in the history of my family.
"Have you told that girl o' yours yet? Ginger?" Lyle asked, looking up from his magazine.
I shook my head. "I was plannin' on goin' up to her house. Takin' her out to breakfas' or sommat."
"She ain't gonna take that news well," he said, chuckling.
"There ain't much that she does take well. And she's sure gonna give me hell for this."
"You're leavin' her, ain't you, Colten?"
The university I was accepted to was on the other side of the state. "Well, o' course I am. I ain't stayin' 'round this small town jus' fo' some half-brained girl."
"No, I mean you're breakin' up wit' her tomorrah."
For a minute there was complete silence in the living room. I looked at the cracked wooden floor, trying to think of words that I could piece together into sentences. "Yeah, I guess I am. It'll be easier that way. I'm leavin' in six months or so, anyway."
He set the magazine down on his lap. "Easier for her or for you?"
I shrugged, avoiding my brother's intent gaze.
"You know she don't love you."
"Yeah." I nodded my head slowly. "I mean, I might love her. She's cute, you know? Prettiest girl in the town if you as' me. And she's dumb, but I think it's cute. I don't wanna spend the rest o' my life wit' the girl, but I do love her. And no, she don't love me. She loves my face, maybe. But not me. But she'll give me hell for this, that's fo' sure. she ain't one that it's easy to let go of. If she wasn't so damn dumb, then he could go to school wit' me. But she ain't goin' to no college. She got the money, but she don't got the brains."
He laughed pensively. "I don't blame you, I'd do the same thing."
"Yeah," I said, slowly standing up. "I'm going to bed. I'll tell you how it all goes tomorrow. Like, after dinner or sommat. Tell you everythin'."
"Alright."
"'Night," I said, walking up the stairs towards my bedroom.
That night, as I lay in bed, I dreamed of the rest of my life. I would make a million dollars some day. I would have a yard full of kids, and I would able to provide for all of them. All of them would be able to attend whatever college they wished to. There was nothing left for me in that small town, and I could not wait to get the hell out of that place.
"This place smells like rotten milk."
I was sitting in a booth at a local diner with my girl, Ginger, all the while listening to her incessant complaints. Once she got on a roll, Ginger was known to be unable to quit her whining.
"God, and the waitress jus' gave me a sour look! Imagine that!" she said, looking at me, begging me to add to the conversation.
"Just shut up, Ginger," I said, my words escaping my mouth with more odium than I had expected.
Her painted red lips formed an "O" as she stared at me, her blue eyes wide as well. Even when she made strange expression such as that, her face was still beautiful.
"What?" she shouted. "What'd you jus' say t'me?"
I shook my head, my face contorted with disgust. "Just shut up. That's what I said, and that's what I meant. I came here to tell you some good news, and now I don't even feel like sayin' it."
Her expression immediately changed into one of interest. "Well, I got some good news for you too. Do you wanna go first?"
My stomach lurched at the thought of being forced to listen to Ginger's good news, which usually consisted of a new pair of shoes or some inane gossip.
"You can jus' go first," she said after I ignored her question.
For a second I did not say anything, and I instead tried to form the sentences in my mind, attempting to say them in the most compassionate way possible.
"Ginger, there ain't a real easy way to say this. So I'm jus' sayin' it. I got accepted to CWU. I'm leavin' in August. I ain't gonna live in this scrappy ole town no more. And no, you ain't comin' wit' me. I can't provide fo' both o' us. So, as of right now, you an' I... Our lives ain't inner-twined no more." I stared at the table, unable to look at her sad face.
"Is that all? You're breakin' up wit' me?"
I looked up, and to my surprise she did not appear to be anguishing in the slightest. "Yeah?" I said, confused.
"Alright, Colten. Well I'm gonna be talkin' to my lawyer, then."
I shook my head, repelled by her stupidity. "We ain't married, Ginger. You don't gotta call a lawyer. I just don't wanna be wit' you no mo'."
She shook her head slowly, repeatedly, leaning towards my face with a small smile. "Oh no, I most definitely do. You see, I got a li'l somethin' in mah belly. You ain't goin' nowhere."
The weight of her words hit me with the force of a charging herd of buffalo. "No... You ain't... Fuck..." I could not manage to form the words together, but then they burst out of my mouth with fury as I stood up. I shook my fist at her, shouting. "I ain't stayin' in this mother-fuckin' hell hole jus' cause you done got yerself pregnant! I ain't stayin'! Just get the damned thin' aborted! Fuck you, Ginger! Fuck you!" I ran out of the diner and into my truck, driving away, leaving her alone in the restaurant. The pillars of my world fell to the ground, crushing me with the wretchedness of reality.
