Tex Arcana

Chapter 1

“Push the point! Go! Go! Go!”

The clack of sticks rattled loudly as I mashed the buttons on my controller, focused entirely on the objective before me. I maneuvered my character avatar across the map, jumping, sliding, and peering around corners looking for the enemy. With the press of a button, I zoomed in on an enemy that had just come into view. I flicked the stick of my controller and hammered the fire button, locking in and downing an enemy.

“One shot, one kill, baby!”

A loud knock startled me, taking my attention from the screen. My father, formerly [Military rank] Alan Ainsworth, opened the door and stepped into my room. He cut an imposing figure in his grey army shirt covering a solid and muscular build, evidence of his years in the military, and a lifetime of ranch work. The crease on his forehead made it look like his face was in a perpetual scowl. He glanced at the screen and saw that I was playing the most recent popular military shooter. I could tell by the way he held his hands on his hips and the way that his face wrinkled around his nose and eyes that he wasn’t pleased.

“We’ve got a long day tomorrow, boy. Your Uncle Frank will be here first thing in the morning to join us. Turn off this game and get some rest.”

“Sure thing, Dad. Let me just finish up this match. We’re winning.”

“You sure?” My dad chuckled.

My controller rumbled as I looked back to the screen in a panic. Bullets flew from an enemy’s gun as I scrambled to save the point I’d worked so hard to hold before my dad interrupted. I downed the enemy in front of me and let out a sigh of relief. The timer on the match counted down the last thirty seconds while the screen showed my team slightly ahead. Suddenly the screen went red and my avatar fell. The point of view changed and showed a member of the enemy team in one fluid motion pull out their sniper rifle, zoom in, get me in their sights, and shoot.

“One shot, one kill.” My dad laughed.

The word defeat flashed across the screen as my father walked over and pressed the power off button to the gaming console.

“You know if you wanted a taste of military action you could have just joined the service like your brother.” My father said.

Not this lecture again, I thought. I was tired of the comparisons between my brother Brett and I. He had been the one that my father wanted to stay and work on the ranch with him but my brother had gone and followed in my father’s footsteps, joining the army right out of high school. He always did enjoy playing the hero.

“Listen, Dad. No arguing tonight. I’ll just go get ready for bed. It wouldn’t do to let mom hear us arguing again.” I said.

“Now, son, that’s not fair. Don’t use your mother’s illness as a way to get out of this conversation. I just want you to be a successful young man. If you put forth the effort and work hard you can take over the ranch someday.”

“Dad, I don’t know how many times I’ve said it. I want to start work on developing my own video game. I’ve got applications for college out in the meantime. If I can get someone to give me a chance I think I can make it.”

My dad sighed and sat down on the bed next to my chair.

“Listen, son, how often have we been having these conversations? It’s been over a year and you haven’t had an application accepted yet. Come work for me and learn the ranching business. You know I could use the help right now. This business can be good for you if you’re a hard worker. It can give you some security.”

“Yeah, right up until someone gets sick and you can’t afford to take care of them, huh?”

I regretted it as soon as I said it. I could feel my father stiffen up next to me before he stood to leave.

“We leave in the morning. Be ready to go.” My father said coldly.

“Sure thing dad,” I said as he left the room.

With a groan, I removed my headset and put down the controller. I walked out of my room and down the hall to the bathroom. I opened the cabinet and pulled out my toothbrush and toothpaste as I began my nightly routine of brushing my teeth and washing my face. As I finished splashing some water on my face I could hear my parents’ voices coming from the kitchen. I turned the faucet off so I could hear them more clearly.

“Honey, why don’t we just pay to have the cattle transported? You know I hate it when you are gone for days at a time. Especially now of all times.” My mother said, sounding distressed.

I slowly crept down the hall trying my best to stay silent and listening intently to the conversation my parents were having.

“I told you already. We’ve got to do this the old-fashioned way so that we can save some money to put towards your medical bills. I’ve got agreements from the families along the path we are going to take as well as a permit from the government to drive the cattle across public land. Frank and I have spent the last few weeks helping those families prepare for our drive-by moving their livestock out to different fields so ours can pass through with no confusion.” My father said.

“I know we’ve agreed to this already and I appreciate that everyone in this community is doing all they can to help. I’m just scared of being here alone. Why can’t Jason stay with me? I’d feel better if I had my boy around.” My mom asked.

“I’ve got our neighbor Meredith coming by to check on you a few times a day. Lord knows she needs something to keep her busy and she appreciates being able to do something to help. But Jason needs to come with me, He’s too wrapped up in those video games and some hard work will do him a lot of good.”

I had finally inched close enough to where I could see my parents sitting together at the kitchen table. My dad took my mother's hands and held them.

“Listen, honey, if we do this we can come close to covering the medical bills without having to sell off so much livestock that it takes us years to recover or let alone the possibility that we lose the ranch entirely. Frank, Jason, and I will only be gone for about a week. Trust me.” My father said.

I could hear my mother lightly sobbing as my parents stood up from the kitchen table. I went slowly back down the hallway towards my room. As I opened the door I turned and chanced one last glance and saw my parents standing at the end of the hallway, my father holding my mother.

* * *

The smell of coffee, cooking bacon, and toast woke me from my sleep as I sat up groggily from my bed. I fumbled from underneath the covers as I stood up and proceeded to head to the bathroom to relieve myself. When I was finished I walked into the kitchen, still wiping the sleep from my eyes as my mother stood by the stove with a spatula in hand, tending to the eggs in the frying pan.

“Good morning dear.” My mother said with a smile. “I hope you’re ready for your big trip with your father and Uncle Frank.”

I could only manage an unenthusiastic grunt as I sat down at the table. My mother proceeded to grab a plate and took a pair of tongs with which she picked up a few pieces of bacon and placed them on the plate. She set the plate down and took up her spatula in one hand and the handle of the frying pan in another. In one deft motion, she flipped the egg and placed the pan back on the stove. I poured myself a glass of orange juice as I heard the toaster go off, ejecting a pair of slices from its top. My mother walked over to the counter and removed the toast from the top of the toaster.

“Oh. Hot. Hot!” she exclaimed as she placed them quickly on the plate.

I smiled, stood up, and walked over to the counter to pick up my plate. My mother slid an egg on top of the piece of toast just before I could take the plate away. I gave her a swift kiss on the cheek and took my plate back to the table.
“
What was that for?” she said with a smile.

“I just love you, momma. Thanks for breakfast and everything else you do. I know it's hard right now.”

I caught the sad smile on my mothers’ face as she quickly turned around and tended to the remaining eggs in the pan. I could hear her begin to hum to herself as I settled into breakfast and took a drink of my orange juice.

My mother is a beautiful woman. Inside and out. She’s smart, creative, funny, and kind. She’s basically the opposite of my father. Although I suppose that s why they say opposites attract. She’s been the lifeblood of this family for as long as I can recall and it pained me to see her in so much pain. Most days you can’t even tell there’s anything wrong. She covers it with a smile, but as time goes on it gets harder and harder for her to hide. Usually, it's just the slight darkness around her gentle eyes that gives it away. Sometimes its when she has to stop to take a break and catch her breath from some task that anyone else wouldn’t think twice about. But it’s being awoken in the middle of the night to the sounds of vomiting that I find are the most heartbreaking.

The sounds of an old pickup rambling down the driveway snap me back to reality. I hear the barking of dogs and a car door slam as I began to wolf down the rest of my breakfast. Footsteps came up the front porch as I chugged down the last of my orange juice.

A man opens the back door of the house into the kitchen and steps in shaking off the cold; a package under one arm and his hat in the other.

“Uncle Frank the Yank!” I exclaim as I stand up and give him a hug.

He looks a lot like my father, he carries himself with the same no-nonsense attitude and solid frame built by years in the service. But that’s where the similarities end. Where my father's face frowns Uncle Frank’s face has smile lines. His hair is jet black and it hangs just low enough that he is always brushing it back behind his ears. There’s a touch of grey along with his temples and to each side of his goatee. He’s not my real uncle, although he is as close as family. Uncle Frank and my father both served together in the Army, doing a few tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. He smiles as he uses his free arm to wrench himself clear of me.

“Hey there, Tex. I’ve got something for ya.” Uncle Frank says as he hands me a package wrapped in newspaper.

“What is it?” I asked

“Impatient as ever, huh? Just open it!” he said.

I tore open the newspaper wrapping and found a cowboy hat wrapped in a long canvas duster.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Every cowboy needs a hat and jacket. You gotta look the part if you’re going on your first ride with your father and me, Tex.” He chuckled.

“I hate that nickname, Uncle Frank,” I muttered.

“I’m not that fond of Frank the Yank either, but it stuck.” He laughed as he tousled my hair and placed the hat on my head.

My Uncle Frank walked over to the counter and turned the dial on my father’s old radio. It turned on with an audible click and static popped from the speakers. He fiddled with the dial until music came from the speakers. The songs bounced between the current Top 40 hits, the local country station, and a hip hop beat until he finally settled on a local Tejano station. He turned the radio off and twisted the volume knob up to max volume as he turned and gave me a wink. He took down a mug from the cabinet and poured himself a cup of coffee and came to sit down next to me at the dining table.

I heard my fathers’ footsteps fall upon the back-porch steps as he made his way to the door and opened it, stepping into the kitchen.

“Ah. Frank, I’m glad you’re here already. I’ve got the horses loaded into the trailer and the bed of the pickup packed with our gear. I’ll check the weather before we head out and after breakfast, we should be ready to go.” My father said.

My mother handed my father a full plate of bacon and eggs. He placed his plate down on the table and walked over to the counter to make himself a cup of coffee. He pulled a mug out of the cabinet and poured the steaming coffee into his mug. He blew on the top of the mug and took a quick, slurping drink of his coffee, sighing contentedly. He walked over and placed the mug of coffee next to his plate of food on the table then returned to the counter and took up his newspaper. As he reached over to turn on his radio, my Uncle Frank nudged me in the arm and gave me a mischievous smirk. The radio blared with the bouncing beat of a loud trombone as a Spanish singer sang with gusto, words that I didn’t understand. Startled, my father dropped the newspaper and with both hands picked up the radio and turned down the volume knob. He gave Uncle Frank and I a disapproving glare as he took a moment to look for the news station that he listened to every morning.

“Ha! Good one, Tex! You should have seen the look on your face, Alan.” my Uncle Frank said as he clapped me on the back of the shoulder and wiped a tear from his eye.