Longrider

After dinner, Nathaniel helped clear the table with unsteady hands as the group paired off to finish work or settle down for the night. The pipes audibly creaked as Nicky began rinsing the dishes, whistling a tune he found unfamiliar yet offkey. Wymack unburdened Nathaniel’s hands, which was only a short-term relief as he only shoved a drying towel in his palm. Before he could agree or protest, the large man made his leave to help Abby pack up the sparse leftovers.

Nathaniel forced his grip tighter around the plate as he tried to wipe away the memories tearing through the depths of his mind. He glanced up as Nicky handed him another with a yawn, clueless to his unease. “Man I'm tired,” Nicky complained, lazily holding the plate out as Nathaniel carefully set his on the counter to trade them out. “You’re tired?” Wymack grumbled in his return. Nathaniel barely had enough time to push himself against the counter to avoid brushing against him as Wymack opened the fridge door to store the Tupperware balanced in his arms. 

“You don’t know tired,” His gruff voice was a muffled echo in the fluorescent light that brightened the small room. “-try going a week with barely any sleep because you have to check on your cattle every damn hour.” Nicky seemed unfazed by the man's squabbles, or he was ignoring them, as he sighed dramatically. “Stupid timezones.” Nathaniel didn’t miss Wymack's mumble of ‘Oh here we go’ followed by a heave as he stumbled back up. Wymack glanced at Nathaniel, rolling his eyes at Nicky as he gave Nathaniel an arms-length distance of space before closing the door. Nicky ignored that too. 

“My boyfriend, Erik, lives in Germany,” Nicky said with a quirked smile. “We FaceTime every night.” Nathaniel hummed in recognition. He’d never understood the whole dating thing, let alone why one would suffer long distance. “That must be hard.” He said politely. Nicky nodded, dramatically sighing once more. He gave a small yeah, only after Wymack made a quick exit did Nathaniel realize his mistake. By the time Nathaniel learned the proper places for all the tableware, he also could tell you Erik’s favorite color his allergies, and the mole on his back left- 

Nathaniel was spared any more detail as Matt rounded the corner. He was freshly showered, in fuzzy Hello Kitty pajama pants and a grey shirt that made him look less looming from this distance. “Showers all yours, Dude,” He said with a nod towards Nathaniel, extending a handful of spare clothes and a fresh towel. Nathaniel gave him a grateful smile, quickly grabbing them as an excuse to cross the room and make his escape. “Right-ill see ya later!” Nicky called out, but Nathaniel just gave a polite nod from out of sight. 

The oak stairs curve up from the dining room, to the right and back. The hallway painted tan, almost yellow in the dim lighting. “This is the only shower on the property, so get it while it's hot.” Matt chats idily. The photos scattered along the walls draw Nathaniel’s attention. He follows the trail behind Matt, scanning the contents. Shadow boxes of ribbons, stills from competitions in every color frame, candids from dinners and nights out. In such a familiar focus, his ambition caught in a still shot is Kevin. Nathaniel forces himself to look away. 

 “Does everyone stay here?” Nathaniel asks, seeing only three doors between the photoscapes. Matt shakes his head as he points around in a comfort that Nathaniel can't follow. “Nah. Technically my rooms out in the foxhole, but I hole up in Dan’s room so much that I got myself a drawer and a closet spot.” He looks back smugly with a gesture towards the far left room. Nathaniel just nods, although he is still talking. “Alison spends far too much on her hair not to have AC so she over in that room with Renee-” He gestures to the one before it, Nathaniel can only see colored lights around the rim of the door. “-and Wymack and Abby have the room down on the right.” He signals around the corner from the bathroom as they come to a stop, the hallway casts just enough light down to the closed door for Nathaniel to follow. 

Stopped at the still-humid entrance of the bathroom, Nathaniel pauses at the spot before the frame opens. “The foxhole?” He asks. Matt leans lazily with his forearm across the frame. “That’s what we call the ranch hands house out right. Boss built it to get the monsters off the couch and they made it their own.” Nathaniel wanted to ask about ‘the monsters’ but Matt must’ve mistaken his thinking for unease. “Don’t worry, Kevin’s stuck with Andrew and you can take my old bunk or room with Nicky. I’ll show you out when you’re washed up.” He said with a bright smile and a firm pat on Nathaniel's back that caused his tired shoulders to spasm. He gave a polite smile and gritted his teeth to hide his recoil. “Thanks.”

The skill of undressing and cleaning oneself without looking in the mirror had become a habit of Nathaniel’s. His scars puffed out too much, too discolored, and his eyes too bright they burned him. He quickly buried the hoodie and messed shirt deep into the bottom of his bag. He’d triple-checked the lock on the door with once more for good measure before tucking his bag between the toilet and the tub. The shower was a relief, for his aching muscles and his mind as the silence flooded the room. The superficial wounds he'd travelled all these miles with still stung under the pressure. He tried to steady his breathing. Of course, he’d chosen the one place in town where Kevin was staying by dumb luck. Memories flashed of a young boy on a farm in a place Nathaniel didnt know the name. His mother’s laugh. Her eyes. Lifeless now. So much blood. So much- 

Nathaniel shut off the shower and got dressed as fast as he could, ignoring the sticking of the clothes against his skin. He threw together his belongings and shut off the light, swinging the door open and panting into the hallway. He gripped the door frame to steady himself and try to force out the thoughts. “Hey man, you good?” Matt asked cautiously from his doorway. It sobered up Nathaniel’s thoughts so quickly that he felt he’d faint. When he looked up, he noticed Dan peaking around the corner looking different than this morning in sleep shorts and a tank top. Her smile was replaced with concern. “I'm fine,” He said in excerpt steadiness, straightening himself up which in turn caused his stomach to flip. They looked skeptical, sharing a long glance before Matt kissed her cheek and gestured for Nathaniel to follow without further pressing.

The foxhole was a small building on the back right of the trail off the main house. Tucked into the tree line and lit by only plug-in lamps. It had one bathroom with just a toilet and sink and four bedrooms off the joint kitchen and living room. Nathaniel could hear the faintest whispers of German from the room in the back right, which he assumed was Nicky. Only one other door was shut across from it, Andrew and Kevin Nathaniel supposed. Matt led Neil to the room on the other side of the kitchen. It was quaint, with two beds on either side and a dresser between them. The color palette was dreary, both beds a dark metal and the room floor-to-ceiling wood. The one bed was made up of blue sheets and posters along the wall. 

The other had decoration, but only a few pieces here and there. Everything was orderly but it didnt much match the side Nathaniel assumed was Matt’s. “Just uh… yeah,” Matt said, his tone now bleak, his gaze purposefully avoiding half the room. “You're welcome to crash on my side tonight, we can stop into town to get you some things to make it more you later this week…” He said, rubbing his ear in an awkward tick. “Sounds good.” Nathaniel nodded, setting his stuff on Matt’s old bed. He caught Matt glancing at the other side for only a moment before turning back to Nathaniel and forcing a polite smile much dimmer than his natural. “Just try not to mess with over there. It's kind of a sentimental thing for some people.” He said with a shrug. Nathaniel nodded, casting one more glance before settling his stuff under the bed. “Well rest up, big day tomorrow.” Matt rapted gently on the frame before disappearing back out the door judging by the creaking. 

Sleep didnt come easy to Nathaniel that night, nor had it in the past so it didn’t come much as a burden. Nathaniel could feel the sun kiss from the day's walk setting in. While the South Carolina heat was suffocating in the daylight, the moon brought a faint bite that he welcomed atop his neatly made sheets. He now faced every memory, the panic pounding in his chest and playing in the shadows cast by the swaying curtains blocking the cracked window. German whispers from across the house didn’t take pity on his imagination. 

Foreign languages whispered behind closed doors, the handles Nathaniel was barely tall enough to reach. His father had odd people with varying scars and emotionless faces in and out of those doors. Nathaniel never knew what they were talking about because they spoke in riddles and code when in English or entirely incoherent words to him. He’d hide around the corner when their footsteps made the loose floorboard creak, careful to make no noise with his breath. 

He only did it a handful of times, he’d gotten good at hiding. He was fast and quiet as he ducked into the linen closet, a gap just big enough to slip his tiny form into. He heard the footsteps rescind down the hall, giving them just enough time to fade away before slowly creaking open the door and crawling out. His father always wore fancy shoes, the type that scuffed the wooden floors as he walked now and then. The neat laces are a matching shade to the leather and tied in precise bows. He stilled as he came face to face with them. He slowly raised his head to those blue eyes, iced over with anger as his foot drew back. 

The muffled slamming of the screen door caused Nathaniel to shoot up, clutching his side. He heard it like the echo of gunshots, his eyes adjusting to the flash of sunrise cast against the far wall. He steadied his breathing until he felt the rising bile return to his stomach and eased himself off the bed. He replaced his borrowed pjs with the cleanest shirt and jeans he had in his sack, before slipping out into the living room. He glanced around, his eyes still trying to find their reality. He could hear nicky's faint snoring. Yet, It looked as still and untouched as the night before. Except the thin string of morning light peering through Andrew and Kevin’s slightly cracked door. He glanced at the front door. Time to face the music, as his mother would say. God rest her soul.