Shallow Creek
SHALLOW CREEK
by
Alistair McIntyre
PUBLISHED BY:
the4threalm.com
Shallow Creek
Copyright © 2013 by Alistair McIntyre
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Cover artwork by Ebook Cover Design
The4threalm.com
Alistair McIntyre, the author of this work, is part of the4threalm.com, a group of writers who work, edit, critique and publish collaboratively. He would like to invite you to see more of his work, along with that of several other talented people, at the site below. And be sure to participate in the discussion. We're nothing without our readers, and we want to know what you think!
Chapter 1
Shallow Creek
CITY LIMIT
POP. 20,934
Brendan Rhodes smiled as he passed the road sign welcoming him back to his hometown for the first time in nine years. Shallow Creek was a bit of an overstatement; the creek bed lending its name to the town hadn’t held a drop of moving water in the eighteen years he’d spent here. Off in the distance, probably five miles out, he could make out the first buildings of the small town. That was the way things went in west Texas. He remembered a family road trip to Lubbock one summer where they’d passed the Lubbock city limit sign and drove on for what felt like an eternity before leaving the desert behind and embracing civilization.
Stumpy little trees dotted the landscape as he slowed down while entering the
town proper. Tall trees couldn’t survive the strong winds across the flat plains, but their shorter cousins did a good job hiding local and state law enforcement. Sleepy towns situated on Texas highways were famous for cheap gas and speed traps. Brendan cruised on for a couple of blocks before pulling into one of the two name-brand gas stations in Shallow Creek.
The Exxon had received an overdue facelift. Instead of going inside to pay the cashier, Brendan slid his credit card through the reader attached to the pump. Marvels of the modern world had apparently crept out west in his decade-long absence. With the gas flowing and his credit card racking up points, Brendan took a moment to roll his shoulders and twist the crick out of his neck.
“Hey, stranger.”
The pleasant words startled him even as his brain pulled a face from deep in his memory. Sure enough, Michelle Prost stood right behind him, a big smile greeting him as she leaned in for a light hug. He returned the gesture, albeit awkwardly; there hadn’t been much opportunity to practice hugs in his recent life.
“It’s been a while, Michelle,” he said as she looked him up and down.
“And you are none the worse for wear there, Tenny,” she said with some approval.
Tenny
. There was a name he hadn’t heard in long, long time. He couldn’t even remember why she’d started calling him that back in elementary school, but the name had stuck, as long as only Michelle used it.
“The Marines will do that.
” Brendan stuck his hands in his jean pockets, not knowing what else to do with them.
“Right, right.
” Her voice trailed off as she watched a truck drive by. “You know, you never called again.”
“I know.”
“You left me here, and I didn’t even get the first call for two full years.”
“I know.”
“And then you did call me, promised you’d call again soon,” she said, still watching the truck down the street. “But you didn’t.”
He shrugged, suddenly ill at ease.
She turned her face to his. “You didn’t even come to the wedding. We missed you.”
“I’m sure,” he grunted, now trying to suppress dangerous feelings hidden a decade ago.
The giant engagement ring on Michelle’s finger hinted that her husband did pretty well for himself these days. “How is Grant?”
“Your brother’s doing well.
” She absently tucked some stray blonde hairs back behind her ear. “He used to talk about you a lot.”
The gas
pump clicked off, giving Brendan a welcome distraction. When he didn’t respond, Michelle continued. “We’ve got two kids now. Blain’s three and Sadie just turned one.”
“Good for you.”
He stood there waiting for his receipt to print, and for this reminder of his past life to move on. Instead, she lingered uncomfortably, probably not willing to admit that things could get so weird between such old friends. A lot had happened in the last ten years. People drifted apart all the time, right?
“So what brings you back?” she asked.
He fished his keys from his pocket. “I felt like reconnecting with my roots after getting out of the Marines.” That had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now after meeting just one old friend, he wasn’t so sure.
“Oh, so you’re out?” she asked. He nodded. “So what are you doing for work now?”
“I’m between jobs, but I got money to fall back on. Didn’t spend much in the Corps.”
“Oh, okay,” she said quietly.
Brendan turned his body slightly towards his driver’s side door, hoping she’d pick up on the hint, but instead she lunged forward and embraced him one more time.
“
It’s so good to see you again,” she said.
“Likewise.”
“If you do need a job, just ask Grant. He’ll hire you,” she said as she released him.
“And what does he do now?”
She smiled. “Sells ag products to farms. He’ll be back in town in a few days. He’s off to another convention or something.”
“I’ll be sure to call if I need to.”
“Oh, do you have our phone number?” she asked, already pulling out her phone.
Brendan begrudgingly exchanged numbers with her and not so smoothly extricated himself from the situation by opening his truck door.
“I’ve got to get going, Michelle,” he said. “It’s nice seeing you again.”
She took a few steps backwards with a big Texas-sized grin on her pretty face. “Don’t be a stranger, Tenny.”
As she spun gracefully and walked off, Brendan caught himself admiring toned legs between boots and cut-off shorts. So maybe there were some things he missed about his old town. Even so, conflicting feelings that he hadn’t dealt with in a long time wrestled around inside him.
He climbed up into his truck and started the engine, but the growl from the tailpipes did nothing to distract him from
his racing thoughts. Nine years ago he’d left a brother behind who swore Brendan had ruined his life. Not even thirty minutes after returning, Brendan knew that Grant had stolen his.
Chapter 2
Brendan absently stuck the truck in park and killed the engine. Between the sound of the exhaust, and his mother’s general nosiness, he doubted he had much time to himself before his parents realized he was here. He spent those last free moments staring at the tailgate of his father’s truck, wondering why he’d
come back.
His mother’s face appeared in the entryway window, probably trying to work out who
’d parked a new truck in her driveway. The tinted windows were a necessity for a vehicle in Texas, due to the hot sun, but they also did a pretty good job hiding Brendan’s face from his mother.
The house
looked good. His parents had always taken a lot of pride in their residence and rarely let the maintenance slip, even when times got tight. Brendan took a deep breath, grabbed his wallet and keys, and slowly got out of the vehicle.
The walls of the house barely contained his mother’s screams. He smiled as she disappeared from the window and threw the door open. She rushed him, as much as an old lady can rush anyone, and showered him with hugs and kisses. A full foot taller than his mother, Brendan happily bent down to meet her enthusiastic
grasp.
“Why didn’t you tell us you were coming home?” she asked, now holding him at arm’s length, smile fading.
“I wanted it to be a surprise.” The words felt hollow even to him.
“Well, let’s get you inside,” she announced as she turned away. “I would’ve made your favorite pies if I’d known.”
“You know, you don’t really need to—”
“And we’ll put on a big spread for your homecoming,” she continued, oblivious to his interruption.
“Okay, but I don’t like—”
“Maybe we can get your brother and Michelle over with the kids. Wouldn’t that be nice
, hun?”
Brendan gave up.
“Sounds great, Mom.”
As they crossed into the house, she smiled at him before making a beeline for the kitchen, presumably to bake the pies that
his brother, Grant, had always liked so much. His mother’s absence left Brendan alone with his dad in the entryway to the small house. The two men sized each other up for a full ten seconds before Darryl Rhodes extended a hand towards his son. Brendan engaged in the cold handshake, surprised that his father’s bone-crushing grip no longer wielded its legendary power.
“You haven’t called in a while, son.”
Tired words from a proud, yet worn-down man.
“I know.”
After few silent seconds, his father turned and wandered into the living room.
“You got my letters, right, Dad?”
A grunt was the only response as his dad plopped down into the same old ratty recliner from Brendan’s youth. The television clicked on at that point, ending the conversation, even when Brendan’s mom appeared with a cheery smile and pound cake.
“Guess I’ll go grab my stuff out of the truck
.”
“No, no, hun.” His mom took a seat on the couch and patted the space next to her. “You just got here. Take a load off.”
Brendan relented and sat while his mom cut a piece of cake and slid it onto a plate for him. She asked if he wanted anything to drink, but he shook his head as he chewed his food. It was pretty good, so obviously store-bought.
He watched his mom as she sat anxiously next to him. She made motions like she was about to say something, but always hesitated at the last moment.
Just when he thought things couldn’t get more uncomfortable, she asked if he had a girlfriend. The gleam of hope in her eye didn’t make it any easier to tell her the truth.
“No, not yet.”
“You ain’t one of them queers, are you?” his dad grumbled without taking his eyes off the local news.
“No, but even if I was—”
“Darryl! Of course he isn’t,” his mom snapped. “That’s not the way we raised him.” After an awkward silence, she casually added, “There’s a lot of pretty single girls in town, Brendan. I can introduce you to a few if you like. I know all their moms.”
Brendan put his head in his hands and massaged his temples and across his eyebrows. He’d forgotten what it was like out here.
“You doing okay, hun?” his mom asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.
Brendan put his plate on the coffee table and stood up.
“Yeah, just a headache from all that driving today,” he said. “I’m going to go grab my stuff real quick.”
“
Well, okay. Just hurry back in.” She cut another piece of cake. “We got a lot to catch up on.”
