Page 12 of Property of Riptide
“Issy told me a few things. He was a bit wild and wily from what she shared,” I tell them.
“There was this one time, he wanted to build Big Tex, you know who that is, don’t ya?” Riptide asks me.
“I do. He’s the feature at the State Fair of Texas,” I remark. “You can’t miss him since he stands as tall as a skyscraper and talks during certain periods of the day, his baritone voice carries for miles around the park. He was a favorite attraction of mine when we had school sanctioned fair days.”
“That’d be him,” Riptide laughs. “Anyway, he took our paps’ favorite pair of cowboy boots and nailed them to a thick sheet of plywood. Drove that nail straight through the tops of them and grabbed one of the ranch hands’ cowboy hat and superglued a string to it so it’d stay on our paper mâché man. He had Rio and me steal some chicken wire, all of the newspaper we could find, which just so happened to be on everyone’s porches from the delivery boy from that same morning, and we got to building. Somehow, he got Issy involved and had her steal a shirt and pair of pants from the wardrobe of those who were competing and we had our very own version of Big Tex.”
“Oh no,” I gasp. “I bet y’all paid for that.”
“Paps eventually found us out in the woods where we had just finished constructing it and whooped our asses with a switch all the way back to the clubhouse,” Rio mirthlessly chuckles. “I think I still have a scar on my ass cheek from it.”
“He whipped it like it was a lasso and got all three of us in one swing as we sprinted through the pasture. Running never helped because that old timer had some speed. I’d never jumped so high in my life as I did when that thing hit my skin,” Riptide muses.
“Gage was hopping like a rabbit every time he got a swat,” Rio recalls. “Funniest shit ever.”
“If we hadn’t been running for our lives, that shit would’ve no doubt been comical,” Riptide summarizes. “Nobody scared the living daylights out of me like Paps could.”
As I hand the guys a mug and set the carafe and fixings, such as creamer and sugar on the coffee table, I ask them, “What else can you tell me about Gage as a kid?”
Riptide mulls it over while he fixes his coffee and snickers. “When we were twelve or so, he convinced us that if we wore a cape we could fly like Superman.”
“What?” I ask, befuddled.
“Fuck we were impressionable,” Rio grumbles. “We were old enough to know better but too young to care. We were adventurous shitheads.”
“We never could say no to a direct challenge,” Riptide tacks on. “Needless to say, there were a lot of bruised body parts as well as egos.”
“What did y’all do? Jump out of a tree?” I query.
“Nope, off the roof of the clubhouse. Thank fuck there was a shitload of bushes and other stuff laying around to break our fall.”
“Fall? You mean leap, right?” I continue my line of questioning.
“Nope, we lost our nerve when we saw the height we’d be jumping from and started pushing each other toward the ladder so we could climb back down. During our freak out, we pushed each other right off the pitch of the roof,” Riptide corrects.
“Y’all pushed, I lost my balance,” Rio harrumphs. “We would’ve been fine if y’all hadn’t started shoving each other and me getting caught up in it.”
“You’re so full of shit, Rio,” Riptide says, shoving him with his shoulder. “You’re the one who tripped over his own feet and had us hurtling off the side of the clubhouse.”
“Lies!” Rio hisses, but the smile on his face and the laughter in his eye contradicts his words. “Don’t listen to him, Van, his memory isn’t what it used to be.”
These guys crack me up. Tears are flowing down the sides of my cheeks from how hard I’m giggling. “I can see how y’all ended up being the best of friends growing up. Your personalities and zest for life complement one another.”
“Those were the days,” Rio ruminates.
“What happened?” I ask, getting to the crux of why they’re here.
“We grew up, went our own way,” Riptide answers. “I moved to East Texas, Rio stayed here, and Gage followed the circuit.”
“You didn’t stay in contact with one another?” I probe.
“We did,” Rio explains. “It just wasn’t the same. Our lives took different paths.”
“Did Gage tell you about us?” Riptide inquires.
“He hinted at y’all but didn’t get into any specifics. I couldn’t understand why at the time, but now I’m starting to,” I admit.
“Why do you think that was?” Rio asks.
