High Creek Rising

By B.K. Smith

Rural communities share an intimate culture that can be experienced anywhere in the Small Town, U.S.A. Everybody knows your parents, varsity football players get a free pass and nothing is as greased as the rumor mill. So, when a curve-ball is thrown into the mix, things tend to get out of hand.

Texas State Trooper Ryan Hightower is as dedicated to his job as he is to keeping his truck’s radio an oasis for red dirt music. His relatively constant routine is destroyed when he falls for the most unpredictable and troublesome woman in town. As she forces him to face his own demons and straighten out his life, they’ll either fix each other or break themselves trying.

High school kid Titus Keller tries to balance on the line between delinquent and model teen but his rowdy friends make it difficult. When he experiences some of the most upsetting situations of his life, he’ll find that the brotherhood he has with his pals means never facing anything by himself.

After a rash of violent incidents plague the town, Trooper Hightower will need all the help he can get to put these demon's down. In High Creek, everybody knows everybody. For better or for worse.

• Language: English
• Publisher: B.K. Smith
• Release date: Aug 12, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370873951

B.K. Smith

I am 23 years old, a native Texan and currently employed in law enforcement. I have written for many years but have only recently put out public work. I'm a small-town kid who worked the land he was born from. I believe in love and humor as the two most pure paths to happiness in our lives. I also like to crash into trees on a snowboard from time to time.

Book preview

This book wouldn’t have been possible if I didn’t have a life that’s inspired it.

Firstly, my parents.

My mother whose endless love and support have motivated me to be more.

My dad who taught me my work ethic and common sense values.

My best friend, Dalton, who’s helped me make the worst decisions of my life and inspired the character Cameron (although Dalton is far less successful with the ladies).

To my other best friend Jace whose wild antics and good nature was the basis for Dixon (also thank you to my cousin for Kelsey for putting up with him all these years).

To Mrs. Watson, my 6th grade English teacher who’s always believed in me and helped with this book.

To my two fantastic brothers, wild friends and huge family, who’ve all contributed through experiences they’ve shared with me.

Finally – to McKinley Sanders, Thaddeus Couchman and Nicholas Esposito. Three of my best friends in the service and the first readers who helped me perfect this book.

I hope you all enjoy the ride as much as I have.

FOREWORD

I set out to write a book that captured the essence of a small town Southern community. The characters portrayed in this series are based on various people in my life whether it be past or present. To maintain authenticity (also, because I refuse to pander nor will I let myself ‘preach’ to the reader), I created accurate dialogue that could be reasonably expected from individuals in the Deep South that were of similar circumstance. There is no political correctness. There are no clear-cut relationship issues. Some situations do not work out how you would anticipate. Love does not always conquer and hate does not always destroy. Nor will I create a character that you unabashedly love or hate. Nobody is perfect. We are all flawed and so my characters will be, too.

- B

INTRODUCTION

The town of High Creek in Southeast Texas is nestled in the middle of a remote wooded area with a population of roughly 2,400. Most of the town folk have been rooted there for generations. In High Creek, everybody knew everybody and treated them like family. The town’s most notable features were a large football field for the high school, a very popular and famous dance hall called The Rowdy Cowboy, and a Walmart which was recently finished. Interstate 21 ran right through the middle of town and brought the few out-of-towners to Ronnie’s Diner and the town’s park. When the local teenagers weren’t causing trouble at The Rowdy Cowboy they would spend most of their time catching catfish and sneaking beer on Hammond Creek.

The town was getting more popular each year for being the location of the Stonebrook County Cook-Offs. The Cook-Off was a huge gathering for locals to sell their crafts, take their kids on the carnival rides and sample ‘exotic’ food. More importantly, it was a showdown of South Texas’ best cooks competing for the grand prize at the cook-off, a check for $35,000 and a new Gator 4x4. Teams of professionals, blue class families and companies having a social outing from all over Texas would camp out in the field and cook for three days. Even though this was a battle of the best bar-be-cue, everyone knew that it was just a gathering of Texans to drink all day and tell stories all night to the sound of red dirt music. Of course, the cooks were always careful to never divulge their secret recipes.

Life for Ryan Hightower and Titus Keller had been a routine for as long as they could remember. But, a series of events would tie their lives together in ways they couldn’t have imagined. Together, they would learn to mourn, forgive, grow and experience life in a way they hadn’t before. The differences felt between a Texas Department of Public Safety law enforcement officer and a small town high school student would ultimately begin a path of redemption for them both.

Ryan Hightower was a Texas State Trooper in his early 30s. Ryan was assigned to Stonebrook County which was both good and bad for him. The good part was that this is where he grew up as well as where all his family and friends still lived. The Stonebrook County Sheriff’s Office and High Creek Police Department had a lot of ground to cover with few officers so he was relied upon for a lot of regular police calls instead of being a just a ‘highway warrior’. His parents lived down the road from him in a large country-style home afforded by his father’s retirement as Stonebrook County Sheriff and his mother selling her clothing store. Ryan had three blood uncles and three blood aunts who were in the Stonebrook County area, which led to a lot of barbecues and pool parties. Ryan had gone to state police after his enlistment with the Army as an 11B infantryman. During his term, he had spent several combat tours down range in various FOBs and had extensive combat experience. The memories of his enlistment had followed him long after he received his separation papers.

Titus Keller was a student at High Creek High School finishing his last few days out as a Junior before Summer break. His toned muscles, short blonde hair and attractive features made him a well-liked person, especially among the high school girls. He was a defensive end on the football team, but most of his time went to hanging out with his friends as well as his long term girlfriend, Alexis Lamb, who was also the Sheriff’s daughter. His mother was a pleasantly plump woman who worked as a family practitioner at the local hospital. Lydia Keller had raised her son to be a Southern gentleman. She was the strongest person that Titus knew. Of course, she had no choice but to settle down for her boy’s sake. His father was a deadbeat scumbag who came in and out of Titus’ life throughout his childhood. Titus’ father, Axel Lyons, always had trouble with authority which netted him a rap sheet as long as Interstate 21.

Yet, for a reason even he couldn’t explain, he still longed for the day his dad would come to stay in his life.

Chapter One

Highway 21 in High Creek, Texas

Saturday Morning

6:30 A.M.

‘Every Scar Has A Story’

The feelings that trail the loss of a person in your life are complex. You cannot discern if it is the person you miss or the past in general. When you remember the person, you’re really remembering that entire chunk of your history – the circumstances will shape the impact they leave in your heart. Often times when you think you miss an individual, you may just be missing those moments in time.

Titus Keller was only seventeen years old when he was riding with his mom to the outskirts of High Creek to identify his father’s body.

At the time, Titus couldn’t quite remember the last time he had seen his father. He figured it must had been at his thirteenth birthday party when his dad barreled into the house drunk as a skunk. He swung at another parent who, quite embarrassingly, put him on his ass while Titus’ mother, Lydia Keller, called the police. Titus wasn’t feeling all that ashamed as he watched his father being put in handcuffs in front of all of his friends and family. If he was being honest with himself, he was actually pretty happy that his dad had showed up at all.

Now here he was, receiving news that his estranged father had taken his last breath. The young Texas State Trooper told them it appeared to be a suicide. A loaded pistol was found in Axel’s hand. As Lydia took a moment to collect her thoughts, the State Trooper took Titus aside.

For a reason that Titus couldn’t pin down, he took a second to study this Trooper. He looked like he was in his mid-20s. He had short, jet-black hair in a crew cut. His jaw was wide, as Titus imagined came standard for cops and soldiers. On the ends of the Trooper’s jaw was that bone that flexed every time he ground his teeth. It almost created a dimple near his temple.

The Trooper’s eyes were piercing blue and shaded with bushy eyebrows. Interestingly, the man’s eyelashes themselves were so dark that it looked like he had some kind of makeup on them. It was distinctive.

Finally, Titus took note of the man’s stature. He wasn’t wide or stacked but the Trooper was definitely muscled. His biceps stretched the short sleeves of his uniform and dark shadows lined his forearms where the muscles caved out.

Titus didn’t understand the feeling of comfort that came from talking to this Trooper who was not tremendously far from his age but had a hardened face, searing eyes and a seemingly permanent facial expression that must be taught in the police academy. He felt… safe. Almost as if the officer had all the answers that Titus wanted.

For a few minutes, the Trooper let Titus vent his thoughts but, even seeing his father dead, he wasn’t an emotional kind of guy. Although, he did feel a twinge of comfort from the caring State Trooper.

I… don’t know what to feel… what to say, Titus sat on the paved edge of the highway. His arms were crossed and resting on his kneecaps. He looked to his right past the dozens of emergency vehicles and watched traffic zoom towards him.

As he looked back forward where his father’s truck was in the grassy shoulder, he noticed that the Trooper was sitting next to him.

It’s okay, said the Trooper, It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to think. Heck, it’s okay to laugh. Any type of response is valid. I’ve delivered news like this a hundred times and there’s not any two reactions that are the same. You’re allowed to take this in how you want. What’s your name?

Titus, he mumbled. He was vaguely listening to the Trooper out of respect. But, he was more consumed in his own world of remorse and self-pity.

Titus, I’m Trooper Hightower, you can call me Ryan.

Titus just nodded, the last sentence having flew right over his head.

His mother returned so Titus stood up and turned to her. She ran to him and threw her arms around Titus, wrapping him in a hug. He was fairly confident that it was more for her than it was for him.

Trooper Hightower gave a small smile and nod at Titus from behind his mother then disappeared among the crowd of emergency workers.

While Titus softly wiped away a tear from his mothers eyes, another officer came up to reveal a final detail. It seemed that Axel had parked his truck right before the city limit sign and shot himself. He hadn’t left a note or anything of interest.

All he left was a hole in a teenage boy’s heart that was about a mile wide.

Keller Residence

Sunday Morning

8:30 A.M.

Lydia Keller didn’t cry after that. Neither did Titus… at least not in front of his mother. She hadn’t had a real conversation with Axel Lyons since he had left their home for good. She resented his truly random and unwanted appearances in Titus’ life. Understandably, his visits would always end up with a fuming Lydia and an upset Titus. Each time, he would swear to Titus that he was staying for good and going to try to be a part of Titus’ life. Of course, that was a promise he never kept.

The next day was a flurry of people coming to visit the Keller home, offering their condolences and struggling to find something nice to say about the late Axel Harp Lyons. Titus was pretty stoked that he got to stay home from school, but he felt uncomfortable every time one of the countless middle-aged High Creek mothers wrapped him in a bear hug and cried in his ear.

At around four in the afternoon, with a group from the First Baptist Church in his living room, Titus went out to the front porch and stretched out his arms ferociously. Between the sun and solitude, he felt at peace.

Titus turned and strode to one of the four wooden lawn chairs by the door. He slowly, yet dramatically, lowered himself into the chair as if he was an old man compensating for a faulty back. He furrowed his brows as the sun reflected off the windshield of his parked truck straight into his eyes. He inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of freshly cut grass and oak burning from the neighbor’s brush fire. His hand moved to the front door to make sure it was fully closed. He was reassured that he wouldn’t be suddenly bothered so Titus slid out a small tin can from his jeans pocket, withdrew a pinch of tobacco and stowed it in his bottom lip. He gripped the arm rests on the chair, squeezing and releasing the stiff, old wood as if it were a stress ball.

Music began to spontaneously fill the quiet, sunny afternoon.

…trying to remember all those crazy nights we had, now I’m empty but I’m not sad, talking about the good times and drinkin’ down the bad…

Titus heard the Texas Country song blaring through open windows as a red Chevrolet Silverado tore across Interstate 21 and onto Greenland Road, stopping in front of the house.

The loud diesel engine cut off and the door swung wide open. A pair of dirty, old cowboy boots appeared from the cab of the truck then hit the ground attached to a dirty pair of jeans and a crooked smile. Titus grinned and got up as he saw his best friend Cameron stride up to the front yard gate. Cameron was a tall, muscular boy with short black hair and tanned skin. He had sharp features and jaw structure which made him popular with women. He always dressed in worn-out blue jeans and faded shirts with his favorite black Costa ball cap.

Titus grinned and yelled out, What’s up, asshole?

Hey, brotha’, I’m sorry to hear ‘bout your old man, Cameron said softly as his smile faded.

Titus nodded, Shit happens, man, I wasn’t really close to him anyways.

Yeah, well, I’m ready to step in as your new father an’ I’ll be a real good man to ya’ momma, Cameron offered with a smile before he spit a long stream of brown tobacco-filled saliva onto the driveway.

Goddamn! Too soon, dick, Titus replied with a smirk.

Can I bum a dip off of ya’, bud? asked Cameron as he pulled an empty small tin can out of his back pocket, I just took my last pinch and I forgot to go to the store.

Nope, but I’ll walk with you to the gas station to get some, replied Titus.

Cheap bastard, scowled Cameron as he turned to start walking down Greenland Road with Titus following.

They walked back down Greenland towards Interstate 21 with the smell of hot asphalt lingering in the air. The gas station was on the intersection of both roads just fifty feet down from Titus’ house. They rounded the corner of the building and went through the front doors that faced the Interstate.

What’s up, fellas? asked Mark, the cashier who graduated high school about four years prior.

Yo, Mark, can I get a can of Grizzly Wintergreen? asked Cameron as he rested his elbows on the counter.

For sure, replied Mark, his long hair flying when he turned to the tobacco rack and searched for the can.

Titus walked to the back of the store and was looking at energy drinks when he felt his pocket vibrate. He took out his phone and saw that his mom was calling.

Shit, he muttered.

He answered the call.

Where are you? his mother asked instantly.

At the gas station, Titus replied.

With who? asked his mother, concern evident in her voice.

Cam, said Titus as he opened a glass door and picked out a sugar free energy drink.

When are you coming back? questioned his mom.

Jesus, like five minutes, mom, chill, Titus shot back.

Don’t tell me to chill, Titus Harp Keller, I deserve to know where you are at all times, came a stern reply.

Mom, I will be back in five minutes, Titus stated as he walked to the cashier.

Do you need me to pick you boys up?

Titus gave a sharp laugh, No, mom, it’s fine, we’ll be just a few minutes.

Okay, Titus, I love you.

Love you too, mom. Then he hung up the phone and shoved it into his jeans. He rounded the last aisle and saw Cam was still talking to the cashier so he strode up next to him and set the energy drink out with a few dollars to pay.

Y’all going to the fair? asked Mark as he handed Titus a receipt.

Yeah, man, Titus’ family rented a few trailer spots so we’re gonna’ enter the Cook-Off. Cameron nodded towards Titus. Mostly gettin’ fucked up.

Cool, be careful, TABC are going to be swarming that shit this year, offered Mark. He brushed his long hair out of his face and eyed both the boys.

That’s what they say every year, laughed Cameron.

There were always rumors that the Texas Alcohol Bureau Commission was going to send undercover agents to the Cook-Off to bust underage drinking. Each year the rumors seemed more plausible as the Stonebrook County Fair has started drawing thousands from around the state each year.

What about you, Keller? Mark asked as he cut his eyes to Titus.

I’ll probably be the one carrying Cam at the end of the night, grunted Titus as he began to walk out the front doors. He stopped as soon as he emerged outside when he heard a piercing yelp from a police siren. He turned to see a Texas State Trooper cruiser tearing down the highway with the lights flashing. It seemed like the Troopers out here were always keeping themselves busy.

He wondered if that was the same Trooper who had comforted him during his dad’s suicide. He wished he had remembered the name of that Trooper who was so nice to him.

They arrived back at the house shortly after to see a familiar black Ford Taurus in the driveway and all of the church folk gone.

Oh, shit, said Titus quietly as he saw his girlfriend hurry out of the house, her eyes trained on Titus and followed by Ms. Keller

Trip me, whispered Titus to Cameron.

What the fuck? laughed Cameron as he turned to Titus.

Fuck it, hissed Titus. He tried to be quick enough to confuse anybody watching as to what he was doing. He took a very short step to allow his opposite foot to collide with the other, causing him to roll forward onto the sidewalk.

As he fell, he turned and quickly swiped the dip out of his bottom lip and wiped it on the ground as he pushed himself up. All this because he knew his mother would kill him for dipping.

Oh my God! gasped Alexis Lamb who quickly scurried through the small picket fence gate and ran to her boyfriend, Are you okay?

Nope, call the paramedics, he broke his uterus, said Cameron as he walked past Alexis towards Titus’ mom. Cameron softened his look as he approached Lydia Keller, offered his condolences and wrapped her in a big hug.

Alexis walked around Titus, inspecting him for damage and then hugged him tightly.

I am so sorry to hear about your dad, babe, she said softly and then pulled away, looking into his eyes, but, Ty, why didn’t you tell me?

I just…I don’t know, I didn’t really want to talk about it, explained Titus, I mean, we weren’t that close.

I know, but it’s still your father! exclaimed Alexis with concern bulging in her blue eyes, You must upset to some degree, babe.

I mean, I guess I am, I just don’t feel like talking about it, shrugged Titus as he moved his eyes to the ground, shoving his hands in his jeans.

Titus Hammond Keller, I wish you would stop trying to hide your emotions from me, conveyed Alexis as she put her hands on Titus’ broad shoulders. He noticed that when she was passionate her Texan accent would come out smooth as molasses. Usually, he liked it but he was in some kind of mood today.

I’m not hiding shit, I just don’t want to talk about it, retorted Titus.

Wow, sorry for prying, I just care about you… Alexis’ eyes softened and Titus could see that he had hurt her.

Look, I’m sorry, I just-..

..she don’t talk about religion, she talks about the Stones, oh she’s every girl I’ve every known…

Titus was interrupted as loud Texas Country music once again blared out of open windows as a silver Dodge Ram pickup marked with rusted pock marks came roaring off the Interstate. The beat-up truck screeched up beside Titus on the sidewalk and filled the air with diesel fumes. The engine cut off.

Dixon hopped out of the driver’s seat and stretched out. He was a tall, lanky guy with shaggy brown hair that had a farmer’s tan and always wore muscle shirts and jeans. The passenger side door opened up and Todd jumped out of the lifted truck, waddling over to Titus, his big beer belly wiggling.

Todd was pretty fat and fairly short, had round facial features and he kept his brown hair cut close to his head. He was always wearing a backwards baseball cap with collared shirts, jeans and very clean cowboy boots.

Bro, we came as soon as we heard, grimaced Todd, as he offered his meaty hand to Titus who took it and pulled Todd in for a big hug.

Yessiree, but we were setting trot lines on Hammond Creek and the only thing we caught was a buzz. Dixon let out a very extravagant belch.

Real nice, Alexis scowled as she waved the sour fumes away from her face.

Dixon winked and gave Alexis a quick hug and then went over to Ms. Keller.

A couple of turtles snagged on the lines… lotta good that does us. Check ‘em out, beckoned Todd. He went to the back of the truck and picked up a large turtle, holding it against his wide belly.

Alexis walked over and inspected the turtle as Titus turned and returned to the front lawn where his mother, Cameron and Dixon were talking. The conversation stopped as Titus walked up and his mother gave him a small smile.

Is everyone staying for dinner, honey? she asked.

Naw, unfortunately, there’s a show tonight at The Rowdy Cowboy, grinned Cameron.

The Rowdy Cowboy was a large dance hall and bar that was adjacent to the gas station and extended to behind the Keller residence. It had both large indoor and outdoor areas for concerts and dancing as well as around five staffed bar areas scattered around it. It was a very popular location on the weekends but made it quite hard to sleep for the Kellers.

Well, y’all can eat real quick and then walk on over, offered Ms. Keller.

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