25 Luke By Wednesday, Luke’s headache had abated slightly, but he feared he wouldn’t be well enough to compete in Macon, Georgia, over the coming weekend. After that, the next event was in Florence, South Carolina, and he wondered whether he’d be in better condition by then. From there, the tour moved to Texas, and the last thing he wanted was to head into that stretch of the season with a serious physical handicap. Beyond that, he was beginning to worry about the expenses. Starting in February, the events required that he fly. It meant extra nights at the motels. Extra meals. Rental cars. In the past, when pursuing his dream, he’d viewed it as the cost of doing business. It still was, but now, with the loan repayment set to triple in six months, he’d found himself scouring the Web for the cheapest flights he could find, most of which had to be booked weeks in advance. As best as he could estimate, his winnings from the first event would cover the cost of travel to the next eight events. Which meant, of course, that not a dime would go toward meeting the upcoming loan payments. It wasn’t about winning to chase a dream anymore. It was about winning regularly because he had to. Even as the thought entered his mind, however, he could hear Sophia’s words, contradicting him. That it wasn’t about the ranch, or even about his mom. That it was all about the guilt he wanted to avoid. Was he being selfish? Until she’d said it, he’d never even considered the idea. It wasn’t about him. He’d be fine. It was about his mom, her heritage, her survival at an age at which her options were few. He didn’t want to ride. He was doing it because his mom had risked everything to save him, and he owed her. He couldn’t watch her lose everything because of him. Otherwise he’d feel guilty. Which made it all about him. Or did it? He’d called Sophia three times on Sunday night, another three times on Monday. Twice on Tuesday. He’d texted, too, once each day, without receiving a response. He remembered how upset she’d been by Brian’s stalking, which kept him from texting or calling on Wednesday. But by Thursday, he could take the silence no longer. He climbed into his truck and drove to Wake Forest, pulling to a stop in front of the sorority house. Two identically dressed girls were sitting in the porch rockers, one of them talking on the phone, the other texting. Both glanced up briefly, then did a double take when they saw who was walking toward them. As he knocked, he could hear laughter drifting from inside. A moment later, the door was opened by a pretty brunette with two piercings in each ear. “I’ll tell Sophia you’re here,” was all she said, moving aside to let him in. Off to the side, three girls sat on the couch, craning their necks to get a glimpse of him. He guessed they were the same girls he’d heard from outside the door, but now they simply gawked at him, the television blaring in the background as he stood in the foyer, feeling out of place. It was a couple of minutes before Sophia appeared at the top of the stairs, her arms crossed. She stared down at him, clearly debating what to do. Then, sighing, she approached reluctantly. Noticing 315/414 everyone’s attention, she said nothing to him; instead, she nodded toward the door. Luke followed her out. She didn’t stop at the porch but walked down the sidewalk out of sight of those in the house before turning to face him. “What do you want?” she asked, her expression blank. “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry,” Luke said, hands in his pockets. “For not telling you sooner.” “Okay,” she said. She added nothing, leaving him unsure what to say next. In the silence that followed, she turned away, studying the house across the street. “I watched the video of your ride,” she said. “On Big Ugly Critter.” He kicked at a few pebbles lodged in a crack in the sidewalk, afraid to face her. “Like I said, it was pretty bad.” She shook her head. “It was more than just pretty bad…” She turned to look at him, searching his face for answers. “I knew it was dangerous, but I never thought that it was a matter of life and death. I guess I didn’t really understand how much you risk every time you step into the ring. And that bull and watching what he did to you. It was trying to kill you…” She swallowed, unable to finish. Luke, too, had watched the video once, six months after his ride. Back when he’d sworn he’d never ride again. Back when he’d felt lucky simply to have survived. “You should have died, but you didn’t,” Sophia stated. “You were given a second chance. Somehow, it was ordained that you should have the chance to live a normal life. And no matter what you say, I’ll never understand why you’d want to risk that. It doesn’t make sense to me. I told you once that I’d thought about killing myself but that I never really meant it. I knew I’d never go through with it. But you… it’s like you want to do it. And you’ll keep going until you succeed.” “I don’t want to die,” he insisted. “Then don’t ride,” she said. “Because if you do, then I can’t be part of your life. I’m not going to be able to pretend you’re not trying to kill 316/414 yourself. Because I’d feel like I was condoning it somehow. I just can’t do that.” Luke could feel his throat close up, making it difficult to speak. “Are you saying you don’t want to see me anymore?” With his question, Sophia thought again about how much the tension had drained her, and she realized there were no tears left. “I love you, Luke. But I can’t be part of this. I can’t spend every minute that I’m with you wondering whether you’ll live through the weekend. And I can’t bear to imagine what it’s going to be like if you don’t.” “So it’s over?” “Yes,” she said. “If you continue to ride, it’s over.” The following day, Luke sat at his kitchen table, truck keys on the table. It was Friday afternoon, and if he left in the next few minutes, he’d reach the motel before midnight. His truck was already loaded with the gear he needed. His head still ached a little, but the real ache he felt was when he thought about Sophia. He wasn’t looking forward to the drive or to the event; more than anything, he wanted to spend the weekend with Sophia. He wanted an excuse not to go. He wanted to take her horseback riding on the ranch, envelop her in his arms as they sat in front of the fire. Earlier, he’d seen his mom, but their interaction remained strained. Like Sophia, she didn’t want to talk to him. When work made it necessary to speak to him, her anger was palpable. He could feel the weight of her worries – about him, about the ranch. About the future. Reaching for the keys, he heaved himself out of the chair and started toward his truck, wondering if he’d be able to drive it back home.
Posted on: Mon, 11 Nov 2013 11:21:33 +0000
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