western – Lair of the SSStoryteller

CHAPTER 4: DANCING WITH NORE

All through the long, cold winter, Braden lived alone in the ranch house, caring for livestock and tending to the property. Though Chaz and Acorn kept him company, he found himself longing for human companionship. Back on the res, he’d been surrounded by sisters and cousins and neighbors. There was always someone to talk to or watch a game with on TV. He missed having someone else there to share the chores with, and to taste the foods he cooked.

When he said this to his sister, Chumani, during one of their weekly phone calls, she laughed. “Sounds like what you need is a wife,” she said.

Braden snorted. “I definitely do not need a wife,” he said.

“Well, then maybe it’s time to find you a girlfriend,” said Chumani, as though girlfriends were something he could order from an online catalog, the way he ordered pet supplies. Still, he thought, maybe it wasn’t the worst idea. Surely there was a women his age in Dry Gulch who’d be interested in a man like him.

He washed and shaved, then uploaded his photo to an online singles site. But though he checked his computer every day, none of the local women seemed to show any interest in him. Frustrated, he deleted his account and headed into town, where he played his guitar at the Prickly Cactus to earn a few extra bucks. This money, he stashed away toward his dreams of opening a restaurant.

As he was leaving, he was waved down by Annie, the woman who’d hired him to be a ranch caretaker.

“Listen, I never do this,” she said, “but my cousin, Eleanor, is staying with me, and I think the two of you would really hit it off. Would you mind if I introduce the two of you?”

“Umm…okay, I guess,” said Braden.

With a name like Eleanor, he expected Annie’s cousin to be somewhat old-fashioned and plain. But to his surprise, she was cute and lively.

“Call me Nore,” she told him. “No one but Cousin Annie calls me Eleanor.” She made a gag face.

Braden laughed. “Nore it is.”

“Hey…do you like dancing?” asked Nore.

“I like it, though I’m not so good at doing it,” Braden confessed.

“Liking it is the important thing,” said Nore. Next thing Braden knew, he and Nore were on their horses, galloping toward the Prickly Cactus, which, as it turned out, was also the local dance club. At first, Braden hung back, watching, as Coco wiggled and twisted around to the music.

“Come on, jump in!” said Nore, tugging him by the hand. She was impossible to resist. Braden began to copy her moves, and soon he was boot scootin’ and hay jumpin’ on the dance floor as well as anyone else.

It was too soon, he knew. Far too soon. But he thought maybe he was starting to love Nore.

CHAPTER 3: THE CARETAKER

Braden spent the next few days hunting for a job. It wasn’t easy, however, as Dry Gulch was a small town, and few people seemed eager to hire a dusty outsider with no local address. As Braden had no lodgings, he would tie up his horse, Acorn, and he and Chaz would curl up wherever they could to sleep—on park benches, in an abandoned barn, and once on the hard ground beneath the stars. He washed in a nearby stream and spent the last of his money to feed Chaz and Acorn, all while ignoring the hungry gnawing of his own belly.

Just when he was considering giving up and returning to the reservation, a woman approached him on the street.

“Howdy!” she called up to him. “Name’s Annie. Folks mentioned there was a young guy in town looking for work.”

“That’s right.” Braden dismounted and rubbed his palms on his dusty clothes before extending a hand to Annie. “Braden,” he said. “I can do just about anything. Tend livestock, chop firewood, even cook. In fact, cooking’s my specialty,” he added. “My grandmother taught me well.”

Annie laughed. “Whoa there. I just need a caretaker on one of my family’s properties. The job won’t pay much, but it’ll include room and board.”

“Hired!” Braden said quickly. His cheeks warmed. “I mean…yes! I’ll take it. Sounds like just what we were looking for.” Annie gave him some paperwork to sign and directions to the property. The house was small and needed some work, but otherwise, it was perfect for him and Chaz and Acorn.

The work turned out to be the same stuff he’d done his whole life on the res. He made repairs and cut weeds and took care of goats, sheep, and chickens.

Even though it was all familiar work, something was different. Being out here, so far from all he had ever known, made it all seem new, almost fun, like a kind of adventure.

One night, while he was headed to the Prickly Cactus for a drink, he ran into Stewart Smith, one of the men he’d met in therapy.

“Imagine—we both said yes to a dream and ended up in the same place!” said Stewart, grinning. “Makes you wonder how many people like us are out there, living dull lives and wishing they could live like cowboys instead.”

Stewart, Braden learned, had convinced his wife to pack up the family and purchase a ranch on the outskirts of Dry Gulch.

When they first arrived at their new house, his wife, Alicia, had burst into tears. The house was more like a shack—small and dark, and dingy.

“How are we supposed to raise our kids in a place like this?” she’d wailed. “Let alone horses!”

“Just have a little faith in me,” Stewart begged her. “It will take some work, but we can do this.” Alicia agreed, and the family set up a tent and lived outside while the shack-house was under construction.

“One day, we’ll have the biggest, prettiest, most successful horse ranch in Dry Gulch,” Stewart said with a tone of such confidence, Braden had no doubt it would happen.

Braden wondered about his own dreams, which he’d barely thought about since he’d moved here. Could he really do it? His days were now so busy with farm chores that come night, all he could dream of was sleeping in his warm bed. How could he possibly manage all of that and open a restaurant, too?

CHAPTER 2: THE PRICKLY CACTUS

Braden had no intention of starting small. True, he didn’t have any money. But that was only a minor setback. His mind was made up. He was going to leave the reservation and head to the town of Dry Gulch. Once there, he would get a job and start saving his money to fund his restaurant dream. He would also start working toward his other, larger dream—the one he’d never mentioned to a soul.

“Why Dry Gulch?” asked his sister as Braden was preparing to leave. “Why go so far away from home?”

“There’s nothing for me in this place,” said Braden. “It’s time for me to say yes to new opportunities.” He was parroting the group counselor, he knew. But he was ready to do whatever it took to get his life on the right track. Even if it took him out of his comfort zone—another of the counselor’s favorite phrases.

The journey to Dry Gulch two two days on horseback. At nights, he camped on the side of the road with his dog, Chaz, curled beside him for extra warmth. At last they trotted into town. The sun was was just rising, bathing the entire town in a soft glow of rose gold. The air smelled of horses, dust, and hope.

Braden dismounted his horse in front of the Prickly Cactus, a local bar where he’d applied for work. He parked himself on a nearby bench and waited for the bar to open before sauntering inside to speak with the owner, Mr. Chay.

“You’re the young man I spoke with over the phone?” asked Mr. Chay. His eyes narrowed as he looked Braden up and down, taking in his mud-splattered clothes and greasy hair. Braden shifted in his seat, uncomfortably aware that he hadn’t bathed in several days and probably smelled worse than horse manure.

“Look, I’ll clean up,” he told Mr. Chay. “I’m a hard worker.”

“Okay, how about a test,” said Mr. Chay. “Go on behind the bar and fix me an old fashioned.”

Braden looked at him blankly. An old fashioned? He had no idea what kind of drink that was. Back on the res, most people just drank whiskey or tequila straight up. “Look, I don’t know how to make those,” he admitted. “But I’m a fast learner. Just give me a chance.”

But Mr. Chay just scowled and waved Braden away. “Forget it, kid. I need someone with actual bartending experience.” Braden watched in dismay as Mr. Chay stalked away. He’d been counting on this job to help him achieve his dreams. Instead, he was far from from home with no job, no family, and no place to sleep. What was he supposed to do now?

CHAPTER 1: THE YEAR OF YES

Life on the reservation was all Braden had ever known. Since he was very young, he had labored beside his family, caring for horses, tending to cattle and chickens, and planting crops in the rich, fertile soil. But now that he was a grown man, he felt a restlessness stirring, a pull toward a life he had only ever dreamed about.

When he tried to share his dreams with his sisters, they burst into giggles.

“Don’t you know you need money for something like that?” said his sister, Chumani.

“Yeah, last we checked, you were po,” said Wachiwi. “Too poor to afford the last two letters!” They both roared with laughter.

Braden balled his hands into fists. “Oh, just forget I said anything!” He stalked away before they could see the frustration and sadness he felt inside.

“Okay, pause right there.” Sam the therapist held up a hand to stop Braden’s story. “So you had this great dream, and your family stomped all over it? What were you dreaming of doing?”

Braden swallowed hard, then looked at the other men in his therapy group. “I wanted to move off the res,” he said. “And save money to open a restaurant.”

None of the other men laughed. They, too, had their dreams stepped on. Stewart Smith taught business courses at a prestigious university. But he dreamed of going on sabbatical from his work and becoming an honest-to-goodness cowboy. His wife thought he’d lost his mind.

Bentley B. Garner was living the dream and had managed to retire in his early forties. But retirement turned out to be dull. After days sitting on park benches, staring into space, he decided that what he wanted to do most was buy a vineyard and start his own wine label. His wife thought he’d lost his mind, too.

“The thing is, life is short,” said Sam. “I can’t emphasize that enough. Life. Is. Short. If there’s something you really want to try, something that will bring you joy and fulfillment, no matter how small, you must find ways to say yes. As often as you can. Yes, yes, yes.”

“But how am I supposed to just up and say yes to opening a restaurant when I have no money?” said Braden, shaking his head. “That’s impossible.”

“And how do I say yes to being a cowboy when my wife says hell no?” Stewart protested.

“Maybe you don’t start with the biggest dream,” said Sam. “Start small. Each of you. I want you to say yes to every opportunity for the next year. Commit yourselves to one year of yes and see how your lives change. If your wives complain, try reminding them that this is your prescribed treatment from your therapist. The year begins now. Are you ready to improve your lives?”

Braden, Stewart, and Bentley looked at each other then at Sam. “Yes,” they said in unison.

THE YEAR OF YES (a short story)

Braden Howahkan, Stewart Smith, and Bentley B. Garner meet in a radical group therapy class and embark on a Year of Yes. Their individual dreams converge in the not-so-wild west town of Dry Gulch, where they experience wins and losses as they learn to break out of their ruts and say Yes to life.