Staying Grounded [BXB]

Baby Steps

CRAIG:

"You have the opportunity for a fresh start here, Son. You can leave all this mess behind, flip the page and begin a brand new chapter."

Those were the words of counsel my dad gifted me on my sixteenth birthday.

Roxy wasn't even a wish I dared make back then; Christopher didn't yet exist, and my mum had been ignoring my existence for months.

I'd taken to practically living in the summer house, and that's where Dad found me late into the night. "Your mother and I, we only want the very best for you," he said, settling into the rocking chair and handing me a can from the six-pack of beers he'd brought with him. "It's time, now, for you to invest in that effort as well. This single mistake needn't stigmatise you. The slate can be wiped clean, Craig, if you're willing to make the necessary sacrifices."

And that...

That turning point is where I am in my head when Sebastian trots Firecracker up alongside me and tugs at my reins, asking: "Somewhere interesting?"

I startle around on him. My dappled-grey loaner, Basil — a placid beast who needs little guidance — draws to an immediate halt. "I'm going to talk to my dad."

Today is a glorious spring Sunday, clear and breezy. We've been out riding for most of the afternoon, now making our leisurely way back to the stables. Dusk is creeping in, deepening the blue sky, and the horses take advantage of our sudden distraction to lower their heads and graze on the roadside grass. My rump feels sore, and my muscles ache, and I'm wired. Looking about myself, an errant smile teases my lips with the realisation we've stopped in almost exactly the same place at which another pivotal twist to my life occurred.

"On my terms this time," I continue. "I shouldn't be waiting for him to come looking."

Sebastian is frowning at me. "Okay, good, and you intend on doing this when?"

"Honestly..." It's a plan I've barely developed beyond thought, but: "I'm ready now. Like, impatient-ready. Right now. While I'm feeling bold."

He nods, still frowning, a gentle tug on his reins reclaiming Firecracker's attention. "Sure thing," is his only response as he guides the horse back on course toward Strathall.

"And I'd like you to come with me."

"I'd be delighted."

"Just for, you know, moral support?"

"Best whip your butt into gear, then."

I'm not remotely confident he's serious or whether he doesn't believe me to be, but he moves away at a fair clip before I've even turned around. Basil is several beats behind in following, and the stretch of road between us lengthens as Firecracker steadily picks up pace.

"Whoa, hold up!" I shout, caught off-guard.

Sebastian rides straight by the stable entrance without a backward glance. "Hurry up!"

"The fuck, Bas?"

He disappears around a bend, and I curse him a few more times, urging my steed faster in pursuit. I stand little chance of closing the distance, never mind overtaking; he is far more practised in the saddle, and Basil is no match for Firecracker even discounting the head start. It's not until the junction — at least two miles out — that he begins to slow, his laugh reaching me as he cuts onto the fork leading to town.

"What part of 'right now' and 'impatient-ready' did you not mean, Craig?"

"The bit in the middle which didn't involve your truck."