Twisting Fate Read online

  Next came music from an old acoustic guitar he found that belonged to someone in his family. That was a worse disaster than drawing. I'm almost positive as I strummed my fingers across the chords it sounded more like a drunk falling into it standing against a wall in a pitch-black room. Clearly, the artistic side of me doesn't exist. I keep telling him to move away from music and art, but he is bound and determined to try each thing for a week to ensure nothing is potentially missed by not being thorough. I may not remember who I am, but I know when it's time to move on. His persistence tells me he would make a great salesman or attorney someday.

  I try to deal with it, because I could be doing this alone. Annoyance is better than loneliness. As I recall the memories of that goofy kid it makes me laugh, but it's just another workday for me, and time to get started. I step into my boots and cover my head with the hat that will protect it from the sun, later, when it decides to expose itself. I begin walking to the door, ready to get another day under my belt. I have bulls to breed, feed, and test. Duty calls and I have paychecks to make. I've already saved a nice cushion from my earnings and it's only been a month since I got here. Most of it is profit since I have no expenses. Here goes. I open the door and step into the cool morning breeze.

  As I do every morning, I come into the barn and saddle up my quarter horse. He's a beauty, this one. He stands tall and proud; a stallion built for speed. My first morning here Antonio gave him to me. He said he was about to sell him, because he won't allow anyone here to ride him, making him useless. When I came into the barn and walked by each stall he went crazy until I came to his and stopped. Antonio told me his name is Rabia, meaning Rage in my language and said, "This one has attitude."

  On that day he stood back and told me to feel him out, to see if he would let me work with him. He never moved as I saddled him up and mounted him. I'm assuming I have been on a horse before, because when I saddled him up it felt natural, as if I've done it a million times before. When I finished he said, "Looks like you've found your horse. I'm glad someone did, because I didn't want to have to sell him. He's the strongest horse here as well as the fastest."

  “Hey, boy. You ready to get some work done today, huh?” I rub his neck and scratch his nose every morning after I’ve saddled him. He loves when I talk to him. We’ve developed a little bond, he and I. He likes the attention and I have someone to tell my deepest thoughts to without worrying of it being repeated since I know he doesn’t understand. “Come on. Let’s ride.” I mount him and take off into the pasture.

  The first stop is releasing the males in to breed the females that are in heat. Daily activities around here are pretty much repetitive. As I'm riding across the open field a flashback occurs. I've been having them less as the days go on. I don't know if it's because of work keeping me busy, but I hope it's not a sign that they will eventually fade completely. They always start out the same; rolling through my mind like the clouds in the sky. It starts with a single glance at her, slightly blurry at first, but comes into focus similar to the lens on a camera. I always have the same reaction; stopping everything I'm doing to enjoy the show.

  Her body is resting against mine; always the same blonde hair, green eyed girl. Her curls are blowing in the wind and we're sitting atop a horse. I keep my arms wrapped around her, looking at her from behind. It feels so real, as if I am actually touching her instead of seeing it in my mind. Each time this happens I get a feeling that is never present otherwise. I think I love her, but how can you love a figment of your imagination? Is she real or is she just someone my mind created after the accident? Will I ever find out?

  She lets go of the horn on the saddle and throws her arms above her head in the air. As much as her hair is blowing behind her I know we’re going fast. I tighten my grip, but she doesn't take notice. She's lost in her own little world; living free, like a bird flying high. Her head falls back against my shoulder and we continue racing onward on the back of the horse through a meadow. She looks happy, content. The sun is setting across the horizon and she bends her arms, lowering her hands into my hair.

  I grasp onto every detail that I can incase I don't have another one for a while. Sometimes it ends abruptly without allowing me to finish the scene and sometimes it's so graphic I feel like I'm there. It's always on mute though. I can't hear any words or sounds except that once when I heard her say she loved me. She catches me off guard with what she does next.

  She places her left hand back on the horn of the saddle and throws her left leg over to the right side. What is she doing? My hand grips her hip afraid she will fall off a running horse. As if the horse knew, it slows to a trot. She takes her right leg and brings it in between our bodies before she releases it on my left side. She is now facing me and oh damn…a close up.

  She smiles as if she knows how much effect she has on me. That smile could change the world, move mountains, and color a world of gray. My hands grip the reigns so tight the leather digs into my skin, but I can't help it. I clench my eyelids closed tightly as the vision becomes hi-definition. Please don't stop please don't stop, I chant to myself mentally. My hands automatically find her waist, pulling her closer to me. She places a palm on each side of my face and locks those bright green eyes with my blues. When she does, I'm paralyzed; unable to break free from the hold that she has on me. My breathing picks up and I hold my breath, in an attempt to keep quiet, as if that would allow me to hear something other than the silent movie playing in my mind.

  I am completely zoned into my own head. I couldn't tell you what was going on around me if you asked. I have no idea where I am or what I'm doing, but I cannot lose sight of her. I need to keep watching. If she can do this to me without being present, I can't imagine what it would be like if she were really here. Please be real. I need you to be real.

  Her eyes are astonishing, telling a story with each look. I need to learn how to read between the lines. She moves in closer and I swear my heart stops beating. No words come out, but I'm able to read her lips just before she joins her lips with mine. Together forever, was the message that they delivered. Her soft lips touch mine and just like that she slips away, leaving me sitting on the back of a horse in the middle of an open field at a dead halt.

  Fuck.

  I'm sick of this shit. I feel like pulling my hair out, screaming until something happens. Every single time, the vision gets better, then it slips away into the depths of my mind and I have no control over extracting them for private viewing. My mind has cursed me. I have fallen in love with someone I can't touch, except in my memories and even then it's limited. Antonio stops beside me on his horse. "Are you okay, Son? You look like you have seen a ghost, no?"

  I press inward on my skull with the heel of my hand, taking a deep breath to try and relieve some of the tension that is building. I begin pounding one of my temples with the hardened section of my hand in frustration. "It's nothing; just another vision of that girl. I don't know who she is, but she's the only memory I seem to be able juncture from who I was, and that’s assuming she’s even real. I don't get it. What's so special about her that my mind pulls her, but no one else? How can I even be sure that my subconscious is not just creating her from loneliness?"

  He looks at me for a moment, but doesn't say anything. That's how Antonio is. He doesn't riddle you with useless information. He remains quiet until something needs to be said and I like that about him. When he does speak, it's wise, realistic and keeps you coming back for more. "There are a lot of things that we question, but usually everything that happens is for a reason. Instead of asking why, embrace it when it comes. Our minds have a way of leading us if we let it tell us the whole story instead of taking piece by piece and trying to read between the lines or formulate our own plot. When it's ready to reveal everything to you it will. This could be part of it trying to heal from your injury. All good things come in time, Son. Patience is a virtue."

  See what I mean? The man is wise. I know he's right, but that doesn't make it easier.
I feel lost, and it's a horrible feeling to live with on a daily basis. I don't want to have to completely start over and build an entire new life. I want the life I had back no matter how good or bad it was. I'm beginning to zone out again and my head is starting to throb around my scar. I'm having a problem staying focused.

  At any given time I just recluse into my own head and forget the things around me. Sometimes it's when I begin having a vision of her and sometimes it's when I'm doing nothing at all. "Do you need to take the day off," he asks and I get pissed off. I don't want to look like I can't do my job.

  I need to figure out a way to get a grip on everything in my life. For some reason I drew the short end of the stick and got dealt this life. I can't change the outcome, so I might as well quit wallowing and move on. "Nah, I'm fine. I need to work. I don't do well with having time on my hands. What's first, boss?"

  He looks at me for a moment as if he's considering making me call it a day, but then shakes it off. "Come on, you're with me today. I'll have the other hand turn out the bulls. I don't want you around them if your head is bothering you. They are already aggressive creatures of habit; add in-heat females and it's a recipe for disaster with you not feeling well. You're still healing and that's fine, Son. Taking things slow doesn’t show a form of weakness. It will take some time; it doesn't mean you're less of an employee. I need to inseminate some of the older females. They only have a few more breeds left in them before I slaughter them for meat. You need to learn how to do it in case I can't be here."

  He takes off ahead of me and I follow. I need to find things to do in my spare time besides staying cooped up in the house and around here. If I don’t things are only going to get worse. Maybe I can talk to them tonight about taking Marcus out and exploring. I need something to take my mind off the situation at hand, something to occupy my time when I'm not working. Maybe I'll meet someone my age. Marcus has become my brother from another mother, but I need to find some people my age to hang out with on occasion; someone I can have adult conversations with. I have to really watch what I say around Marcus since he's just a kid. Being a bad example just isn't in my nature. His mind is still developing and he needs to grow into a decent person. Now that the ideas are flowing, I think that’s exactly what I'm going to do. I'm going to go out for a night on the town, maybe even alone.

  ***

  I'm standing in the mirror adjusting my shirt when Marcus comes barreling through the door. He has a smile plastered on his face until he sees the way I'm dressed. "Where are you going?"

  "Out." I turn from the mirror and walk into the lounge area of the small cottage.

  His face falls a little with disappointment. You can see it clearly drawn on his face. I come to stand before him. “Can I come? I bet mom wouldn't care. She loves you just like her own son. She trusts you; I know she does."

  I mess his hair with my hand, because I know he can't stand it. "Not this time, little buddy. We can go out Sunday, yeah? I need to get away for a while. I have a lot on my mind and plus, you don't need to be out with me at night since I don't know the area yet."

  I hate seeing him bummed, but there isn't anything I can do about it. I need some space or I won't be good for anyone. I can't deal with this depressed bullshit anymore. I need to find something or someone to take my mind off the things that are stressing me out. I need to find a way to release this anxiety and frustration that keeps building with no exit point or I’m literally going to explode. "It's because I'm a kid isn't it?"

  Shit.

  "Come here, little buddy," I say as I grab him in the crook of my arm and lead him to the couch. "Let's have a brotherly talk, okay?" He nods and sits at the same time I do.

  "I'm a big kid, you know. I'm ten so you don't have to treat me like a little kid. Give it to me straight, Bryce." I have to fight to hold back the laughter brewing over him trying to act grown. I can honestly say he's the ray of sunshine in the doom and gloom that I've become. Even though we don't share the same DNA, he's a brother by heart, which is all that matters.

  I bend forward and rest my elbows on my thighs and he follows suit, copying me. It makes me smile to know that he looks up to me. I guess I serve some kind of purpose and I really need to remember that when I get down. I need to be grateful that I have a family that cares about me and that I'm not out on the streets. They actually feel like family and not just an employer. "You know you're my brother, right?" He looks at me, now with a huge grin on his face as he nods.

  "Well, sometimes brothers need a break from each other. It's not because they get bored with each other, but just to do their own things for a little while. I know you're a big kid and I love our bro time, but I'm still older than you. I need to go do things that people my age do every once in a while. Does that make sense?" He looks at the floor and begins imaginarily tracing the tiles of the floor with his finger. I'm waiting for him to reply when he finally nods.

  "I wish I was older so I could go with you," he says and continues watching where his fingers move along the grout lines.

  "Never wish that, little buddy. You have plenty of time to be a grown up. Plus, it's not as great as you think it is. I wish I could remember being your age. I haven't seen Dr. Rodriguez in a couple of weeks and I have to make time for him too. He's done a lot for me and he invited me to meet his family. He said that he has a son around my age he wants me to meet. You wouldn't want me to be selfish with my time would you?" I'm trying to find a way to explain to him in a way a ten year old would understand without being crude.

  He stops drawing the floor tiles and looks up at me. "Okay, I get it. I guess I'm being kind of stingy. So tomorrow then?"

  I called Dr. Rodriguez when I got off from work and told him I needed something to do to get away for a while and that I was getting really depressed. He said his son is home for the weekend from the college he attends and would be thrilled to take me out and show me around. He instructed me to come over for dinner and meet his wife and son. Since it's Saturday night and I don't have to work tomorrow he said I could just stay over and he would return me tomorrow. He should be here any minute now to pick me up. "You have my word. As soon as I get home we'll do whatever you want. The day is yours." His smile comes back and I take it he's happy with my answer.

  "Come on. Let's go find Mom. I need to tell her what I'm doing." I know she's not my mom, but since I got here she has never once made me feel like an outsider. I watch the way she treats Marcus and she treats me the exact same. One night when everyone had gone to bed last week she came out here to tell me good night. It was a little awkward at first, but she said she had something weighing down on her that she needed to tell me.

  At first I wasn't sure what to expect and that maybe I had done something wrong, but I was completely off from what it actually was. She wanted me to know that she would never pressure me to call her anything other than what I felt comfortable with, but that I could call her mom if I wanted. She said that she would never try and replace my biological mother whether I remembered her or not, but that she became an orphan when her parents were killed in a car accident. She lost them at a young age and she knows how lost I feel right now. She also said she knew how important it was to feel like you have a family and that you are loved by someone.

  We talked for a while. She explained that she was lucky to get adopted by a family that loved her and just because we weren't descended from the same bloodline doesn't mean that we aren't family. “Family is the people we choose to love and protect on a daily basis,” she said. The longer we talked I realized I would always be a part of this family even if I didn't make a home here permanently. That night we developed a bond that I’ll never forget.

  At first, I was a little stunned by her forwardness and I had to stew on it for a little while. In the end, I came to the conclusion that just because she didn't bear me doesn't mean she's any less of a mother to me. Reproducing a child doesn't make someone a mother, love and nurture do. Having an adopted family here has made everyt
hing that I'm dealing with more tolerable.

  Marcus and I walk to the main house and enter. I look at him. "Hey, little buddy, do you mind giving me a minute with mom?" He shakes his head and turns in the direction of his room. "Mom," I call out as I walk through the corridor into the kitchen.

  "Aqui, hijo (in here, son)," she says and I follow her voice. I think sometimes she answers in Spanish out of habit from answering Marcus since they're bilingual. I'm picking up words here and there, but in no form am I fluent.

  When I find her she is folding a basket full of clothes. She looks up at me and smiles as I come into her direct view. "You look nice. Are you going somewhere?"

  I take a seat beside her and reach for a towel to try and help as I sit here, but she swats my hand before I can grab it. "Your work is outside and that's enough. I can do this, honey. Rest and talk to me."

  She pats my thigh and goes back to folding her clothes. "Well, I called Dr. Rodriguez."

  She stops and looks at me; a look of concern spread across her face. "Dr. Rodriguez, why? Are you okay?"

  "Yeah, it's nothing like that. I've just been kind of down lately. I don't know." I start rubbing my hand over my hair on my forehead, pushing it into my eyes. It's starting to get longer and I need a cut, but that's the last of my worries right now. It's curling out over my ears and at the nape of my neck. I then sweep it to the side as I think of what to say. I let out a deep breath. "I had another vision of her today."

  I finally told her about the visions the night she came and checked on me in my quarters. She told me something about her and it made me feel I owed her the same. She lays the bath towel back in the basket and turns toward me. "The blonde, yes?"