Clay left his office, he and his father going out the back through the production floor. No one called him over for anything, telling him they had it covered.
He climbed into his father’s beat-up old truck that never left the property. It wasn’t even registered or had plates on it. Just a work truck that was needed to move around.
It roared to life when his father started it. The damn muffler fell off not that long ago, but he kept his lips sealed. He’d buy something else soon so that they could give this thing a proper burial. Should have been put to pasture over a decade ago.
They got to the barn behind the house and climbed out, went to the tractor and his father started it up. It coughed and sputtered, but together they got it running smoothly an hour later.
“Thanks,” his father said. “You hated doing this as a kid.”
He hated doing a lot of shit on this farm as a kid, but they all had their part to do.
Now he looked forward to waking up and seeing the sunrise over the mountains. No gunfire or sirens for him to run and take cover, strap on a gun, or gear to have meticulously cleaned and stored.
He still kept his gear clean though. Some things were hard to break away from.
“Yeah, well, we all grow up and change. It’s not such a terrible life.”
“You just had to do it your way,” his father said.
“Be honest, Dad, it’s not so bad, is it? Not worrying about a poor crop or the revenue not stretching as long as you wanted? Being short staffed and working eighty hours a week?”
“It’s all on you now,” his father said. “I didn’t want that either.”
He wasn’t so sure of that. His father talked for years about Clay taking over the farm. None of his other siblings were interested.
Neither was Clay, but as the oldest, he felt it was going to be forced on him.
His only way out of it was the service in his mind. His parents would always respect that choice in a career and he wanted to make the man in front of him proud.
It was the only way to do it.
Now he was trying to do it another way without tweaking too many egos.
“I’m young and strong. It’s not the same. I know it was hard for you to let it go.”
“Change is never easy,” his father said. “But in this case, our lives are easier. I want that for your mom. She’s a strong woman that has been through a lot. Working this place, raising you five kids.”
“Putting up with you,” he said, squinting at his father.
“Just like looking in the mirror with the two of us here.”
He laughed. Just a short one. The sound was foreign to him, but he was slowly coming around.
“Might be why she can handle me so well,” he said.
“She’s worried about you, Clay.”
He sighed. “There isn’t anything to be worried about.”
“You’ve been home now almost two years. Not that we don’t love it, but are you ever going to talk about what brought you home?”
“You,” he said. “You got hurt. There was no way we were letting Mom do it all and I was the only one that could walk away from my career.”
His father turned to look out over the mountains. “No one wanted you or any of your siblings to do that.”
“You didn’t ask. I didn’t offer. I just did it.”
As the oldest, he had to.
