The Cowboy

Derek hated wearing costumes, even as a kid.

Store-bought ones irritated his skin, and homemade ones required sewing skills that no one in his sports obsessed household had.

Not to mention crippling social anxiety made him especially vulnerable. Like a giant, bright spotlight following him around. He could never shake the feeling that other kids were whispering, laughing behind his back. Wearing a costume exacerbated that. Funny enough, his sister nicknamed him the Ebenezer Scrooge of Halloween (funny for his sister not Derek).

He’s staring down at a flashy business card, gripping it in one hand. Global Wrestling Entertainment inscribed at the top in fancy lettering. Underneath it in plain text is a name that sounds like an alias and a 213 area code number. In Derek’s other hand is a bright yellow eviction notice with three bounced checks stapled to it. He’s not looking at either but straight ahead at the wall, jaw a bit slacked, trying to process the words five thousand dollar cash advance. That’s what the man said when he handed Derek the business card.

Wrestling plus Hollywood equals spandex costumes.

Revealing, colorful, and sequined costumes. Fighting in said revealing, colorful, sequined costumes.

Fighting in said costumes in front of a live audience and a camera crew that’s recording every nanosecond at every angle.

Five thousand dollars.

Can dignity be bought? Derek wonders. Can it cure his anxiety?

The notice had been placed early; Derek was already up, pacing the tiny living room, restless and unable to sleep. A fleeting shadow under the front door frame, maybe there for all of five seconds, was all it took for things to go from bad to worse.

He planned to add it to the steadily growing pile of previous eviction notices, bounced checks, and unpaid bill statements he’d gone to great lengths to hide. But something cracked in Derek—his bones, his spirit, his manhood. It forced him down to the floor, his legs unable to hold up his weight anymore.

This paper was just more evidence of his failure as a husband and a father. Proof of his utter inability to provide for his family.

It chipped away another metal chunk off of his armor, which was probably about as revealing and protective as a pro wrestler’s costume at this point anyway.

Derek gulped, feeling like the weight of the world was in his two hands. Whatever decision he made would ultimately affect his wife and son too.

As if his thoughts were being read, there was a little cry from their room. A squeak of the bed. A cough.

His heart skipped a beat, a stone sunk in his gut. Derek crumpled up the eviction notice. He hated lying to Marissa, but he didn’t want her to worry anymore than she had to. Her mother was sick in the hospital, and Marissa was only able to visit with the baby late after work.

Derek was working overtime like crazy at the local grocery store, but even 65-hour weeks didn’t pay enough.

Clearly.

A few minutes passed, but neither Marissa nor the baby made another noise. It was four a.m., though; they would be up soon. Derek needed to make a decision now. Who knows what might happen if he prolongs this? What other notices might show up?

Derek makes an impulsive decision; he calls his older sister. Boston is two hours ahead. She would be up and getting ready for work right now. He’s scared, and he needs the help of his older sibling. She picks up on the third ring.

“You don’t usually call this early; is everything okay?” She says.

Ever the observant one, the natural detective, she had a knack for noticing the small details and patterns. An area where Derek struggled.

“I need help, Emmy.” Derek gives a brief rundown of his financial situation. He explains that he’s in debt, he’s behind on bills, and he’s just so overwhelmed. He was too panicky for pleasantries and felt bad for disrupting her routine with his problems, but she was always the voice of logic and reason between the two of them. There was a small hope that she would have the magic answer to solve all of his problems.

She graduated from Harvard; she’s a fancy criminal lawyer on the East Coast with her practice and employees who are hired just to bring her coffee. Dealing with literal nightmares every day. He felt silly for some reason, like his issues were too simple, like the answer was obvious to everyone else, and he just couldn’t see it because he wasn’t smart enough.

There’s a moment of silence, and Derek thinks he imagined her talking. He’s so out of it; the phone went straight to voicemail, and he’s hearing voices now. It just sounds like air on the other side, wind, and heavy silence.

“How much do you need?” She asks after an eternity of silence.

“Three thousand.”

“Fuck, Derek. You know I can’t go easy on you in court just because you’re my little brother.”

She’s talking about when he was younger, getting mixed up in the wrong crowds.

At the time, it seemed like the best solution; home was weird, college felt pointless, and money was the only thing that made sense then. That, and drugs. His crew and the drugs felt like his only friends back then.

Until he met Marissa, and they had Collin. Derek had been a straight shooter, cleaned up his act, and vowed to never turn to that dark side again to solve his problems.

“Nothing! It’s not like that, Em. I’m not doing any of that anymore, I promise.”

Emmy let out an unconvinced “hmm” but said nothing else. Derek’s ears burned, and his face felt hot. Embarrassment, shame. He didn’t want to disappoint her—the smart one, the good one.

“I just thought that-“

“You could do it by yourself.” She finishes for him. It’s Derek’s turn to be quiet. It was all the answer Emmy needed. There was a reason she was the brain and Derek the muscle. Even in childhood.

Then words just kind of spilled out.

“This job is just shit and pays like shit, and everything is just getting so fucking expensive. Like, baby formula is fifty dollars! Even with my discount. And- and Marissa wants to go back to school and yeah, Em, I thought I could do it on my own. I thought if I could just prove him wrong, I could finally... I would be able to…”

Derek trailed off, unsure of what it was he would be able to do. There was just so much rage and vitriol that Derek just kind of went with the flow of it, assuming there would be some sort of plan. Derek kept telling himself there was a plan. “He” was always at the center of every motivation. Hell, sometimes it was the revenge fantasy that got Derek through his work shift.

But now, voicing it out loud, he just didn’t know.

“I know, I know. It’s okay.” Emmy soothed him. “I can do half. You’ll have to call him for the other half.”

“So not that I’m ungrateful or anything-“

“Haha. Marcia and I are remodeling the kitchen. We’re trying to spend frugally.”

“How is Marsh, by the way?”

“Derek,” Emmy said in a warning tone, not letting him change the subject. “If you want the rest, you need to ask Dad.”

“I’m not asking that bastard for anything. I’m not giving him any ammo.”

“Is it worth risking your family, though? If you don’t, you guys will be evicted, and then what? A young couple with a baby living in their car? If you can even afford that, It’s been years, Derek. Pride and ego are dangerous things. Let’s all meet up; I can be there for you as moral support.”

It’s more than just that for Derek, though. The man bullied him his entire life, to toughen him up, to make him into a man, and to teach him the harsh realities of life, beginning at the mere age of eleven.

But no version of Derek was acceptable to his father. No matter how many sports medals he won, no matter how many different kinds of sports he played in high school, or how many national records he broke, no matter how many scouts came to his high school just to watch Derek play, nothing was ever good enough. Emmy had a different childhood; he wasn’t mad at her for not getting it. Dad liked her.

“I’m sorry, Derek; I have to leave in a few minutes. I need an answer. Are we doing this?”

“No, I’m sorry I bothered you.” He hung up. And kept hanging up each time she called back until she didn’t anymore.

He panicked. He fumbled. He felt like a teenager again being scolded, triggered back to his childhood, comparing grades, intelligence, athleticism, and any little thing his dad could find to belittle him for. If his father had to be involved at all, he didn’t want it. Especially not in person.

Derek calls the number on the business card. A woman with a breathy voice answers instantly.

“Global Wrestling Entertainment, office of Chief Content Officer Angelini Badalamenti, how may I assist you?”

“Good morning, ma’am. My name is Derek Allen. Mr. Bada—I mean, Mr. Angelini gave me his business card a little while ago and told me to—”

“Oh yes, Derek!” The woman interrupted excitedly, as if she were remembering an old friend. “One moment, please.” And the line transitioned to their hold music, smooth jazz.

Derek fidgeted with the phone cord, getting it tangled up on his pointer finger. He looked at the clock: 4:45. The baby would be up any minute. Marissa could roll over too far and notice that he’s not in bed.

“I knew you’d come around!” A deep, boisterous voice boomed on the other end.

“I’ve been telling all the guys here about the hotshot, gunslinging cowboy from Devil’s Tower and how he’s going to take GWE International. I told the boys that when I saw you stocking cans, I knew instantly he’d be a hit. My hand grew a mind of its own, and before I knew what was happening, I was handing you my business card! Derek, here is GWE material, I thought. He’s got the ‘devilish’ good looks; see what I did there? The rippling muscles, the god-like height! California will just love that twang of yours.”

Mr. Angelini was an imposing force even over the phone, not letting Derek get so much as a breath in until Mr. Angelini paused to take a drink.

“Thank you, sir; I truly appreciate that. Um, it’s just-“

“Just what, son?”

“I’m from Riverton.”

“Well, obviously, we’ll have to come up with a new backstory for you, something more entertaining for the audience. You got a family?”

“Wife and son nam-“

“I don’t know if I want that for your character yet; I need to do some brainstorming with the boys tonight. What about parents? Siblings?”

“I have my sister Em and my dad, but we’re...”

“Idea: a lone wolf cowboy. No family, no wife, no kids—an outlaw always looking to pick a fight. Prove his worth to anyone that gets in his way.”

Derek is speechless. His brain is frozen. Mr. Angelini takes his silence as disapproval.

“Ah well, we still have time to work out the kinks. Your flight leaves in a few days, so we can plan then.”

“A few days?” Derek sputtered. “That’s not enough time! I need more time.”

“Is that not why you called? Or are you just wasting my time?” Mr. Angelini’s voice changed, laced with something sinister and threatening.

“My time is valuable, Derek. I’m a busy man with an empire to run; I don’t have time for indecisiveness. What is there to think about? You need money; I’m offering you a job.”

That is why Derek called, isn’t it? Why he hang up on Emmy, refuse three thousand dollars, and refused her help? Why he’s hide the eviction notices and the statements from Marssia?

Suddenly, the baby is crying, and he can hear Marissa cooing at him.

Shit.

As a pacifist, she would never go for this. She would say it’s too dangerous and would be a bad role model for Collin. Too much violence.

He couldn’t exactly discuss this with her. His childhood was so different from his that she wouldn’t understand the pressure he’s feeling right now. To do the right thing. To figure out what the right thing is.

Derek’s heart is pounding in his ears; he’s sure Mr. Angelini can hear it. He’s very predator-like and can probably sniff the fear through the phone. His hands are sweaty, and he nearly drops them.

“I just thought I would have more time.” He repeated it; it felt like his world was tearing in two. Falling apart, ripping at the seams.

“Welcome to showbiz. There’s never enough of it. But I’m feeling benevolent today, so you get an extra thirty seconds to decide.”

He didn’t have to finish his sentence for Derek to know that he would never call again. Once he hung up, it would be all over. Nothing like this would ever happen again.

The bedroom door squeaked open.

“Derek? Hon? You out there?” Marisa called out.

“She sounds like a really nice kid; it would be a shame to lose her.”

The baby is crying, the clock is ticking, and a rooster is going off somewhere in the distance.

“Fifteen seconds.”

Derek’s head is full; he can’t process anything else or he might combust. It feels like his lungs won’t expand, like they’ve deflated. He can’t feel his heart beating, but there’s a pain in his chest where it would be. It feels like the walls of his living room are closing in on him, making the tiny apartment even more claustrophobic. The navy blue walls that usually remind him of a peaceful night sky just look like an angry void, an oblivion, a black hole that was going to swallow him up.

“I gotta say, I’m disappointed, Derek; I thought you were more of a man.”

At the very last second, before Marissa and Collin walk into the living room,

“I’ll do it.”