Page 2 of Cougar

“You be safe and check in when you can. I don’t need to worry about you and your old man now.”

“I got you, Uncle Rob. See you soon. I love you.” He doesn’t say goodbye. He never does; the line goes dead. Another wave of emotions hit me, and I quickly take the next off-ramp to a gas station and park, trying to breathe through the tears and the wave of whatever swarm of emotions that are hitting me again.

It takes me another thirty minutes of deep breathing before I feel regulated enough, and I’ve gathered my nerves to call Hal and cut my final tie to this place, not that I had many. Three long droning rings echo through my car before Hal’s gruff but comforting voice comes on the line.

“James, thought you went home sick?”

“Hal, I have to go home. My dad needs me, and it turns out I need my parents. I’m really sorry.” I do feel bad leaving him in a lurch like this.

“Don’t suppose you’ll tell me where home is so I can check up on you?” He asks, clearing his throat. Hal may be a grizzled old mechanic, but he did look out for me like a father.

“No. But I promise I’ll let you know that I’m okay.” It’s the least I can do for him, but I can’t risk ruining the life this baby’s father has with his soon-to-be four other kids.

“Take care of yourself, James.” Hal’s voice holds a softness to it that is rarely heard.

“Do me a favor,” I need to make sure that this is a clean break. “Don’t…don’t tell anyone.”

“Ain’t my business to tell, James. Ain’t my business to tell.”

I know it’s a risk that Hal knows I’m pregnant. Kline could find out, but my saving grace is no one knows a thing about me. They don’t know where I’m from. Besides, I know there are people where I’m going who can make me disappear if needed.

“Thanks, Hal.”

We hang up. This is gonna be a long drive, but I know it’s needed. Daddy is about to spiral, and if I have any chance of raising this baby right, I need both of my parents.

“Time to go home,” I say while looking in the rearview. Putting the car in drive, I make my way to my trailer. Once there, I pack up the few clothes I have and a couple of items I can’t live without. My home here is mine. I’ll figure out what to do with it later. Maybe rent it or something. Locking the door, I get in my car with my things and take one last look.

“Alright, you little intruder, let’s go see Pappy and Gramma.”

One

Cougar

*Four and a half months before Rambo’s epilogue*

“That was Bill, treating us with his titillating rendition of I Touch Myself,” the MC calls over the speaker as the rather large drunk man stumbles his way back to his friends.

I’m here most weekends when I have nothing planned with the club. Music is my release. It’s a place where I can escape the cruelties of the world and the demons that seem to be following my brothers and me as of late. I don’t have many options because I might be needed at a moment’s notice, so I can’t go far. So here I am—at a watered-down chain karaoke bar. The guys don’t know that I come here, and I don’t tell them. It’s my place. This is for me. I love everything about my club, but the drama that seems to be following us lately, sometimes I need to get away from it.

Coming here, I can listen to drunk farmers, ranch hands, and random people sing. They all think they are going to get discovered gyrating to the latest chart toppers. It’s good to have dreams, I guess. Especially since most of the time, not a single one of them can sing. They give good stage presence. I’ll give them that. I ain’t like them. I don’t want to be discovered. What I want is what I do. I shut my brain off, sing, and lose myself to the music.

“Looks like our local cowboy is back for more this weekend. John Wayne, you’re up next.” The MC bellows. I chug the rest of my beer and head up to the stage. Cheers ring out as I make my way up. My cowboy hat is nestled on my head, dropped low on my brow. It became a staple in my life once I moved to the ranch. I only take it off for work, and even then, not always. However, it’s been forcefully removed once or twice.

I get myself settled behind the mic. As the soft intro guitar of Catch by Brett Young starts, I see her green eyes. She’s sitting alone, right at the front of the mini-stage. It feels like a shot has gone through me, yet I don’t feel pain. I feel a new form of elation. I always envisioned what it would feel like to meet the girl that set my world on fire. My brothers always talked about how it’s like skydiving. The rush, the thrill, all to get the experience of the high when you hit the ground. Now, here I am, and the moment I see her, I feel a pain in my chest. One that feels like it won’t subside until I got closer to her. I need to meet her, talk to her, touch her, and claim her as mine. So as the words spill from me, I feel them in a whole new way.

What is wrong with you?

Reality slaps me in the face that I shouldn’t feel this way, but as I keep singing the song, I promise her everything I can in that moment. Three minutes are over way too fast, and I’m being ushered off the stage.

I got my name because older ladies, and some men, tend to flock to me. I am constantly being hit on by women old enough to be my mother. Typically, this doesn’t phase me. I find it fun, and it’s harmless flirting. Let me tell you, there have been times in the past when their comments were the highlight of my day. So much shit has been going on that those few minutes of relentless flirting would bring my spirits up. But I didn’t want that tonight. Tonight, I want to find the woman that has rewritten my outlook on life.

I attempt to beeline toward her, but those cougars I find their way to me. It’s the same older women who are here every time I am. I don’t know if they’re here daily or what, but right now, I don’t care. I don’t want to listen to their comments or feel their hands touch my arms. I want to find the stunning green-eyed woman and learn her name.

I politely decline their advances when the MC’s voice comes over the speakers. I try to listen, but the women are relentless tonight.

“Thanks, ladies, but I have to go. I have to…. Shit.”

I couldn’t think of anything else, but that miraculously seemed to do the trick. They move aside, and I start to head toward the table she was at, but when I get there, I learn that I’m too late. Her spot has been overrun by a group of girls.

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