Right when I’m close enough to jump up, he makes a hard right.
“Fucking hell, Dad!”
Abandoning the side-by-side, I take off running as he serpentines around the field, completely fucking up the damn pasture, and I see his shit-eating grin. Finally, I’m able to get close enough where I won’t cut my damn foot off as I race around the tractor and up to the door.
As soon as I’m there, he pushes the lock down.
“Dad! Open the door.”
He bobs his head to the music and smiles as though this is the perfect day.
I swear, there’s a reason I haven’t put him in a home—I just can’t seem to remember it.
I slap the glass with one hand while holding on to the handlebar with the other so I don’t fall off. “Do you want me to put you in the senior center? I’ll do it.”
That gets him. He turns the music down and cracks the window. “Tristan? Is that you?”
I grit my teeth. “You know it’s me. You may be a lot of things, but you’re not stupid. Stop the tractor.”
“Can’t do that, son. I got work to do.”
“Dad, this is the wrong pasture to mow.”
“Huh?”
“Open the door.”
“Sorry, no can do.”
“Dad!” I shout. “Unlock the door.”
He smiles up at me. “I would, but I won’t.”
Days like this, I question all my life choices. Why didn’t I just sell the ranch and move?
Anywhere.
“You’re mowing the wrong pasture,” I try again. Maybe at least if he’s going to be obstinate, he can do it in the right place.
“No, I’m not. You forgot to rotate this one.”
I glance up at the sky. “Deliver me.” Some days are harder than others when you’re trying to raise your parents. “This one is where the horses were coming to graze next week. Please, Dad, stop the tractor.”
Like the lights coming back on after a power outage, he blinks and then slows the tractor.
Finally.
“Are you sure?”
I nod. “Yes, I’m sure.”
He purses his lips. “I think this one had better hay than the one you wanted to mow.”
Half the damn field is ruined now, so it’s pretty much useless for what I had planned. I could argue, make him feel bad, screamabout how he gave up his right to run the ranch, but that would only break him.
I don’t want to break my father.
I want him to be happy, to live on the land he loves as much as his family, where Momma is buried. Where he feels alive because this place is as vital to him as air.
