I stood outside the door for a few moments. I could hear a Mexican melodrama playing
loudly from inside, then a series of grunts which could only be Tom struggling
to get on his cowboy boots. Tom yelled, “son of a bitch,” and stomped the floor
signifying that the boot was finally on. “I know you’re out there, Colter. It
may be Texas, but you can hear that diesel from down the street.”
“I’ll be out here, Tom.”
“Let’s go get,” the front door flew open and then
Tom slowly opened the screen door and stepped out onto the front porch. “Let’s
go get a cerveza, right? With Ben and Lilly.”
“Yeah, okay. I have to talk to Ben about
something.”
“What? Is it important?”
“It’s just something to talk about it is all.”
“All right.”
We rode into town in near silence; Tom decided to
switch it up from Nirvana back to Peter Greene. The way it started, this dumb
and long, at times frightening and maddening journey. I surely didn’t miss the
rain back home, the clouds and the mountains. I would miss this space, the
unending sun and heat. The funny thing is that it would take some real time to
be able to separate Texas from Canadian whiskey and I guess now low bar vodka.
Every time I would think about Texas I would think about the ridiculous
struggle to find consistency, to get real answers, and to see peace. All those
things shouldn’t be taken for granted in any space on any planet, or state.
Although, Texas and this journey brought them more to the surface than I
imagine anywhere else. And that’s all fine and truly good. Even without finding
comfort, I can find comfort in the feeling of truly living in a time and place
that I probably won’t see again. No matter what the annoyance or stupid nature
that took place, there was a time to exist and feel different, because in my
existence I feel as if there are a lot of times in life that feel similar. This
experience isn’t one of those, for better or worse, and there’s some sort of
beauty in that. Some sort of reminder that moments are particular, instances
don’t always correlate, and the option to keep some chaos dripping from the
well isn’t anything to be taken for granted.
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