Bullheaded

He didn’t need charity or want to take it from the man who hired him onto the team, but he couldn’t think of a way to tell the older man that without sounding ungrateful. And he actually was hurting for money. Cody liked staying in nice places, and Johnny never really worried about how much Cody paid for their rooms after he handed over his share, but he was beginning to remember that being with Cody had given him a level of comfort on the road he couldn’t afford on his own. While Cody hadn’t paid him for helping on the ranch, Johnny still hadn’t been pulling his own weight.
    He sort of wanted to fume over it in private for a bit and also reject any pity handout from Vern, but he was tired enough from the train and the weekend event that he found himself nodding off and jerking his head upright repeatedly. To cover up, he said, “I could drive for a spell if you want.”
    Shooting a quick glance at him, Vern answered, “No thanks, we’re almost to a good rest stop. Bathrooms and showers. You have to pay to get a shower, but you can piss for free.”
    “Okay, let me know whenever you want me to drive.” Johnny looked out the window, not that he could see more than the shoulder, and beyond that, the blur of bushes and trees rushing past in the darkness. Speaking seemed to have broken his drowsiness, and now he was wide awake. He had to keep reminding himself not to think about Cody.
    Vern spoke up again. “If we’re going to ride together, we oughta have some ground rules. Like they say, expectations are resentments in training. First off, when I’m on the road, I can’t always find a meeting, so first thing in the morning, I call my AA sponsor and then I get down on my knees to talk to my higher power. At night, I speak with the wife. I expect privacy for those conversations.”
    “No problem.” Johnny had been wondering if he would score any privacy himself while traveling with his team leader.
    “Second, if you’re not ready to go when it’s time, I’m leaving without you and you can find your own way to the next event. You’re an adult, not my kid. If you get drunk, I’m not going to be pulling your ass out of no bar. I’m not your sponsor. You do what you want as long as you’re fit and sober in the ring.”
    “Okay.” In a way it was kind of nice to have someone who wasn’t planning his life for him or hovering over him with instructions.
    After another twenty or so miles, Vern slowed to pull into a large rest area. The vehicles already parked there consisted of big rigs, pickups, and expensive foreign cars. Johnny recognized a few of the livestock rigs from their logos; some of the contractors who supplied bulls to the tour also seemed to be spending the night here.
    Vern guided his truck to a spot under some trees near a fire pit. Both men got out to stretch their legs, Vern with his dopp kit in his hand. “We’ll go in one at a time. That way I don’t have to set the alarm.”
    Johnny nodded and hitched his butt onto the picnic table, slapping the air as a mosquito whined in his ear. It was warm and humid at night the way it never was back at the ranch. Even though the air felt heavy, he liked the way it closed around him. At home he would have been wearing a jacket. Here he was fine in just a cotton shirt and his jeans. The cicadas started up after he’d sat motionless for a while, humming to him as he stared up at the stars. Except for the lights on the outside of the block building that housed the restrooms, it was pretty dark, and the stars showed up bright in the sky.
    A familiar truck pulled in next to Vern’s, and Reese got out to stretch. Johnny lifted a hand in greeting.
    Reese said, “Taking turns at the john?”
    “Yeah, Vern’s in there now getting ready to hit the hay.”
    “Keep an eye on my truck for me for a minute.” Reese stretched again and headed for the restroom.
    Even though he missed Cody, it felt adventurous to be out on the road at night with no defined place to sleep. When he heard the crunch of boots on the gravel, Johnny slid off the table and turned to find both Vern and Reese had returned together. “All set?”
    “Your turn,” Vern said.
    Reese only nodded and went back to his own truck. Johnny imagined them hopscotching their way from show to show this way, parking next to each other at truck stops, probably grabbing meals together, living the gypsy life that most of the touring division riders did.
    Johnny grabbed his kit and headed