The Mysterious Ryder

Intervention

"What is this?"

"Don't you remember it?"

"Of course I remember it," I snapped. "Why are we here?"

"Whoa, Kiddo, don't shoot the messenger. We're here because you need an intervention - you and Mom."

I stared at my older brother Oliver dumbly. Intervention. I didn't know what he meant by that, but if it involved my mother I wouldn't be caught dead in his scheme. He hated how much Mother and I argued, and was constantly trying to find a way to remedy it. Unfortunately, there are just some things that can't be remedied.

My mother and I had argued intensely everyday since my dad left. Nine years ago, almost to the day, he walked out on us. Our relationship had been on the rocks my entire life; we were just too different to ever agree on anything and we were both too stubborn to concede that the other might have been right. After Dad left it just got worse. I blamed her for driving him away, and she blamed me for turning him against her - but she did that just fine on her own.

I usually stayed with my brother, since I wasn't old enough to live on my own yet, and occasionally he would pull crap like this. He always had some crazy plan to get my mother and I into the same room to "mend our broken relationship." Like I said, some things just can't be remedied.

"I am not going in there," I stated. Then, more to myself, I mumled, "We don't even know each other anymore."

"That's what you think!" He got out of the car, taking the keys from the ignition on his way out. He came around to my door, and expecting that he would attempt to force me out of his truck, I locked it. He smiled and held up the keys. He unlocked it manually, but before he could grab the handle I had it locked again. That went on for a couple rounds; I know it was childish, but when it came to my mother I couldn't seem to act any other way.

Finally he got it open - he had managed to get to it faster than me. He slid his arms under my legs and lifted me from the seat. I kicked, trying to throw him off balance and allowing me to escape, but he was too strong. I hadn't got a chance in the world of trying to knock down my hard-working big brother.

He was older than me by four years, a giant, and incredibly protective. I never told him the extent of my fights with Mom, since he left the house before things got really bad, and I didn't want him hating her too. She was verbally abusive towards me, but since I sent it all right back at her, I never gave it much thought. But with anyone else, he became a bear of a man.

Once, I told him about a boy in third grade who was picking on me in school. He called me names that a third grader should never know under any circumstances, and was constantly pulling on my signature braid. My brother, a big, scary seventh grader, came to my school and confronted the kid's parents about his behavior. We'll just say that that story carried on into middle school, and I was never picked on again. That happened just after Dad left.

Oliver always kept his dull blonde hair trimmed, because if it were long it would get in his face while he worked. Work was everything to him. He had channeled my dad's departure in much more productive ways than I ever could. He put his best into everything he did - grades, jobs, relationships. I was the complete opposite of him. I grew my hair long, simply because my mother hated when it fell in my face and after Dad left, I started slacking. I kept my grades at average, sometimes just below. It was enough to pass, but nothing that could make me stand out. I wanted to fade into the background.

I didn't have many friends. I never attempted to make any in high school, and I was one of those Goth, loner freaks that nobody ever approached. So Oliver was really all I had.

"Please don't make me go in there," I pleaded, giving my brother a pouty lip and sad eyes, like a puppy whom someone had just kicked. He shook his head, giving me a small kiss on my forehead.

"Sorry, Kiddo, it gets worse. Not only am I making you go in there, I am dropping you off so that you two are forced to put up with each other. I'll be back in a few days with more food. Try not to eat it all before I get back."

My mouth dropped. "Are you kidding me?" He shrugged his shoulders as well as he could while carrying me. I started kicking again, more fiercely this time, hoping that he would drop me.

"What? You had to be carried in like the baby you are?" I stopped kicking and swallowed down a sarcastic reply - for my brother's sake.

"Mom, come on. You said you'd at least try."

"If she's willing to try, then so am I," I said. I urged him with my eyes to set me down. "Hello, Mother."

"Shane," she said curtly. I could smell the alcohol on her. That's another thing she took up - drinking like a fish.

"Alright," Oliver said carefully. "Well, I'm going to get going. You two have the whole summer to work through whatever issues you have."

"The whole summer?" we exclaimed together. We each sent hateful glares towards the other.

"Yes, the whole summer."

"I only agreed to a few weeks of this, and that was if I could take it that long!" My mother was beginning to turn red. But she would hold her tongue until he left; he had always been her favorite and very rarely disciplined him.

"I hardly even agreed to it," I replied. I would be more stubborn than her. She acknowledged my challenge with a crinkle of her old nose.

"Do it for me, both of you. I took care of everything at your jobs - your bosses know about the predicament and are more than happy to give you the time off. Even you, Shay."

I scowled. I hated my job, and my boss, but he took a liking to me. He wasn't much older than I was, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what exactly it was that attracted him to me. Even if I was more common than air. Of course I never told Ollie; he would have quit for me, and then I would have to find another job, which was quite the task when you looked like I did.

"Fine. The whole summer," I groaned. My mother agreed to the whole summer as well. He beamed at us and said goodbye. Mom went back in the house, but I followed him to the truck. "You'll be back in a few days, right?"

"Yes, Shane, I will. I promise. Text me if you need me to bring you anything, okay?" I nodded sullenly, and he kissed my forehead. "Oh, I almost forgot. Remember that horse you used to own? The one you would ride whenever we vacationed here?"

"Hermes? Of course. What about him?"

"The family we sold him to were more than happy to let you ride him for the summer. He's in the barn," he smiled. I grabbed his hand and squeezed lightly.

"Are you joking? Hermes is here?"

"He is indeed. He'll help you survive, I'm sure," he joked. He climbed into his truck and winked at me, blowing a kiss as he drove away. I grabbed my suitcases and ran into my room as fast as I could. My mother started yelling at me not to slam the doors, but I was too busy changing into clothes I could ride in to care. When I opened the door, she was right in front of me.

"Where do you think you're going? And why do you insist on dressing like that? It's disgusting!"

"I'm going riding, and I can dress however I want to dress!" I pushed passed her and ran back outside, where the barn stood a few hundred feet away. When I got inside, I saw Hermes in his normal stall, happily chewing on some hay. He looked up at me as I pushed the barn door open.

"Hey there, Hermes," I whispered. He stopped chewing and tilted his head to one side. "Yeah, hi, Boy. Do you remember me?"

I held my hand up to pet his snout, not quite touching him. He snorted a little bit and lifted his nose, rubbing it against my outstretched hand. I laughed a little and pet him as he wished. "Good boy, Hermes! Good boy!"

Oh yeah. With him, I could definitely survive this summer.