My name is Bryce O'Conner and I am the oldest of three. I am 21, my sister Cara is 19 and our younger brother Jackson is 18. We live in a small town at the foot of a mountain in the southwest portion of the United States. Our dad Clemson is a long-haul trucker who is gone Monday until Friday every week. He gets home every Friday, where he stays until Monday. Although he is gone most of the week, he never seems to miss anything that goes on during his time away. Whether good or bad, he has always been there for us. Our mom Katie is a part time schoolteacher and full-time mother. She keeps us all organized while keeping us on the straight and narrow.
Our house sits on three acres of pristine mountain forest. Lost Man Creek runs through the south end of our property and has some of the best Rainbow trout one could hope to catch. Pine trees guard our home with their peaceful manner. As kids, the three of us would spend hours running through these woods with endless imagination. We could be anything we wanted to be out here, and it was amazing. From the endless games of tag to playing Robin Hood to the summer nights spent outside, lying on our backs counting all the stars that would be out. It was an amazing place to grow up and that is probably why at 21, I still live with my family.
Growing up in this small town is what we all know. We are very active in our small community through sports, school and church. All of our neighbors are a couple miles away. Although that is far compared to city standards, I would bet we know our neighbors better than most city folk know theirs. Someone needs help fixing a fence? Just call. Need help painting a room or getting your kid to basketball practice? Just call. Dad had one too many and needs a ride home? Just call. That was the mantra we all grew up with in our town. Need something? Just call a neighbor and it was taken care of.
Being the son of a long-haul trucker has been great. Although dad is gone a lot, he has been able to build a family, along with his wife, that is strong, loved, smart and confident. He taught us that fear is just fuel to conquer the next quest. He would take each of us once a year on one of his runs. It would just be dad and you. It was great. We got to see big cities, open landscapes and the ocean. There was the noise and chaos in the warehouse districts. Trucks running and sounding their horns. Brakes squealing and yards bosses yelling. I loved it. I would hear cursing and the night prior's conquests from the dock workers. It was so foreign to me but had an easy quality knowing my dad was a part of this each week, but when he came home, he was the perfect gentleman.
As I said earlier our mom Katie is a part-time schoolteacher. She is a substitute when a teacher is ill. When principal Williams goes out of town for county business, our mom takes his place until his return. She has run the parent's club, the lunchroom, directed several school plays and comforted kids who forgot their homework or were just having a bad day. I love and respect my mom more than anything, but the list above represents everyone in our community. If something needs to be done, regardless the size or difficulty of the job, our town gets is done. It's a great place to live.
It was Thursday afternoon. Jackson was out on a run. He loved to run up and down the hills that surrounded our property. He said it made him feel free. Cara had ridden her bike over to Old Man Jacob's place. Once a month Cara would ride the 3 miles to his house. She would trim his hair and nails. Listen to his stories of the time he was in the war and take a look around to ensure Mr. Jacob's was not getting himself into any trouble. He loved to drink a bit of whiskey, while listening to opera and doing his best to imitate those who could sing the operatic tales perfectly. He fell a bit short on this talent. She would report later that he had been a good boy. I stood at the kitchen sink finishing a glass of water when mom walked in.
"Hey Hon." My mom said when she saw me. "Whatcha you doin?" she asked as she walked to the linen drawer to the left of the sink and put last night's washed cloth napkins into it.
"Not much." I said as I set the glass down.
I looked at my mom. She had recently turned 52 years old. Her and dad started late when it comes to making a family. Most families around here were started when the parents were barely out of high school. Rarely is it brought up out here but once or twice when on a run with dad I have heard small comments on his "old age". They have never seemed old to me. Just the opposite. They are young, funny, hardworking people and I am glad they are my parents. Although they go out of their way to embarrass us, like the time when I was in the 8th grade and had just won the spelling bee and dad stood up and asked in a very loud voice "how do you spell clean your room?' I just looked at him when he said, "Hmmm. It looks like I stumped ya." The adults laughed and applauded.
Mom now stood by the sliding glass window of the dining room which was adjacent to the kitchen where I stood. She has a bobbed shoulder length head of deep black hair. The bangs curled inward. Her face is round and soft. The skin was clear and white. It always looked to be so smooth and once you felt her embrace you and the softness of her cheek against yours, one knew everything would be fine. Her thighs matched you belly, strong and thick. Although she was bigger than most moms I knew, she carried a confidence that demanded respect.
She wore cloths that fit the day. Living rurally, one has to adapt to one's elements. Out here those elements could change in a heartbeat. Today she wore an ankle length navy skirt and a yellow sleeveless button up. I knew just by her dress that she taught today. At home mom wore t-shirts and jeans with work boots. At school a more professional attire. Today was no different. She did look somewhat tired. The blouse was wrinkled from sweat and hard work.
"How are you mom? You look tired. Rough day?" I asked
She looked at me and bit her lip. "I'm O.K. I have a lot on my mind. What time will your sister and brother be home?" She said as she pulled a cold soda from the fridge.
"Cara left about 2 hours ago to help Mr. Jacob and Jackson left for a run about half hour ago. So, I think they will be home in a few. What's up?" I said with a small questioning look.
"Oh, not much. I will tell you when we sit for dinner. Are you good with the leftover pasta?" she asked while looking into the fridge.
"Works for me." I said.
I went about setting the table as mom prepared the leftovers. The napkins were placed with the silverware resting upon its fold. Cara came in and went to help mom right away. There wasn't much to do while heating up leftovers, but the two of them loved their gossip. I decided to leave them alone. As I placed the pitcher of water on the table, Jackson walked in from the back door. He was drenched in sweat and breathing hard. His dark curls shined with wetness. He filled a glass from the pitcher, drank a long swallow and gave me the "what's up" nod. I returned the gesture.
Jackson set the glass down on the table and took a seat. Looking at mom and Cara, he then looked at me. He looked concerned. Although Jackson was the easiest going of all of us, when he had this looked, I knew something was bothering him. His look was far off and distracted but held a lot of concern. He looked back down to the glass.
"What's up man? You look like you have seen a ghost." I said as I pushed his shoulder.
He was still looking into his glass when he looked up to our mother. He stared intensely her way.
"Mom asked me this morning if I have ever had sex." He said deadpan while looking to her direction. I just stared at him. Jackson was the mellow one, but also the prankster. Not much bothered him, but when it did, he was impossible, I looked at him with the utmost concentration. He seemed far away. I didn't feel like a prank was coming. His demeanor had me worried. He looked confused. Slightly angry and embarrasses. But there was something else. I could not place it right away. As I watched him, him seemed to be locked on our mother. Her question had him bother.
"What did you tell her?" I asked
"I told her no! I know I haven't, but I felt I was in trouble in some way. She looked so...I don't know... disappointed but she also had that look when we were younger, and she was teaching us something new. You know what I mean?" He said, as the worry crept into his voice.
"Yes, I know that look." When we were younger, our mother would watch over us as we did our homework. She was very patient with each of us. She would offer encouragement when needed and could be stern when called for. Our mom was a good teacher and probably could have been one of the best, but she opted for motherhood instead. When we would come across a particular difficult assignment, she would get this look that was full of confidence while at the same time her small smile looked to me that she was holding a secret. When I saw this look, I knew I would be let in on the secret as well.
