Texas Tea - Post Malone

Austin (Bonus)

Austin grabs the hay bale and throws it as far as he can. "I hate this fucking place!" he shouts. Angry now and unable to stop the tears that stream down his face. He is weak and pathetic. He feels trapped and undermined. He feels like he has no control over his life, not even when he forces it. He wipes his eyes dry and holds up his contract again. He got it. Flyhalf for the Dallas Cowboys. He should be happy. It's his dream, but even now as he stares at the contract it feels wrong. It feels like it's not his dream and that pisses him the fuck off. For years he sat and listened to his brothers and his cousins speak about their dreams. He knew they would all come true. They are determined people with Cottonwood running in their veins.

They have a choice.

He feels like he never did.

It's as if his life was mapped out for him before he was born. He fills his lungs with air and lets out another scream then attacks another hay bale. He can't even fault his family. They support his choices. They accept him for who he is and what he wants, not one person has even tried to make him feel bad for accepting the football position. So why does he feel like he is letting everyone down?  It's not fucking fair. He punches the hay bale again then climbs up the ladder to the barn loft and over to the large open ledge that looks out at that dam mountain. He hates that mountain. His mother says it will call to him. He listens carefully for a long time. But, he hears nothing.

It's silent.

"It won't call till you are ready, Texas."

He turns and sees his grandfather sitting on a bale of hay in the corner. Cottonwood. The real Cottonwood. That's what all the town folk call him. His great-grandmother had started Cottonwood and his mother now carries it. But it is his grandfather who will always be Cottonwood even after he is long gone. "I don't want to hear it," he confesses. His grandfather doesn't look disappointed or heartbroken by his words, instead, his face has an understanding tone to it. "I am afraid you don't have a choice, boy," he says eventually. "I have tried to hear it... it does not call to me," he says. Part of him thinks this whole 'the mountain will call you home' is bullshit. He has dreams that do not include that stupid mountain or this stupid ranch and he refuses to feel guilty about it.

"Because you are trying to listen to the wrong mountain, Texas."

Austin frowns. What the fuck is this old man on about? The wrong mountain? There is only one fucking mountain. But, his life is so fucked up that he might as well humor the old coot.

"What mountain am I supposed to hear, Granddad?"

"She's a faint one. Far away. Timid and soft. She calls. I can hear her. She needs ya, but you will need her more."

"Hear who?"

"Your mountain, Texas."

Austin frowns. He should not have asked. He is now more confused than he was before. His grandfather sighs and stands then walks slowly over to him and sits down next to him. "Mount Eve is just a mountain. Rock and dirt, ain't no mouth to call from," he says. Austin's whole life has been a lie? He has been told to listen for the call of the mountain. It will call to him. Bring him home. But, now he is told it's just rock and dirt?  He watches his grandfather's head drop slightly and shake. "Dam woman," he mumbles under his breath. Austin listens carefully and hears a shuffle behind him. Then his grandmother's face pops between them. "I will be quick," she whispers. "Use your words, rancher or you will sleep under my beautiful cherry blossom," she whispers to his grandfather then crawls toward a hay bale. "Oh!" she says turning around and crawling back then kissing each of them on the cheek. "I love you both...and you are both bullish. Ok, that's all," she whispers quickly then crawls away. "Pain in my ass," his grandfather mumbles.