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“Aba, someone’s at the door!” The small child yelled up the stairs. When no reply came, he simply shrugged and went to open it anyway. Stranger danger clearly wasn’t one of his strong suits, though perhaps this was to be expected from a six year old.
Luckily it was no stranger that opened the door, but the familiar face of a greying cowboy.
“Hel- oof“ He’d barely called out before a small blur of green barrelled into him at full force, causing him to take a step back.
“Howdy Wrangler” the man chuckled, ruffling the child’s hair affectionately “Where’s yer pa?”
“He’s in bed being boring” Wrangler looked up with a frown on his face “Have you come to play with me, Unka Wooly?”
“Hm, let me see your pa first” Wooly gently pried the clinging child from his leg so he could step into the house. That’s when Wrangler noticed the box he was carrying.
“What’s that?” He asked, secretly hoping for an exciting answer like “cake” or “sweets” or a cool bug.
“Chicken soup” Wooly replied instead, which was not as exciting as Wrangler had hoped. “Made it myself!”
“Oh”
Wrangler had been trailing Wooly like a loyal puppy ever since the cowboy had first walked in through the door, and by now they’d made it up the stairs and towards Spinner’s bedroom. Spinner Chait was sat up in bed, hot water bottle on hand and surrounded by piles of tissue boxes. His nose was a similar colour to his flaming red hair, which was mussed and tangled and had a small toy horse sticking out of it that Wrangler had no doubt put in there at some point.
“You’re looking good” Wooly grinned as he set his tupperware down on the bedside table.
Spinner replied with a mumble that could have been a swear, clutching his head.
“Easy Spinny, I brought some chicken soup” Wooly gently extracted the plastic horse from Spinner’s curls “It’ll do you some good”
Wrangler had stayed at the doorway when Wooly entered, looking all at once uncharacteristically nervous for such a boisterous boy. No child really wanted to see his father in such a state, even if they did occasionally butt heads over their personalities. However much his father annoyed him with his rules and ideals, Wrangler could tell he was genuinely sick and it worries him – Spinner was the only father he had, after all. And he loved him more than he resented those rules. Especially being so young, Wrangler needed that adult figure to look up to. Especially since it was his own bedtime, something Spinner seemed to have realised as he sat up further in bed.
“Woah there partner” Wooly placed the back of his hand on his friend’s forehead “You’re not going anywhere with that fever”
“It’s Wrangler’s bedtime” Spinner croaked out “Just let me put him to bed then I’ll come back and-“
“Not a dang chance” the cowboy retorted, gently but firmly pushing the other man back onto his pillow “Yer gonna rest up, you hear? Leave the boy to me. That’s a nasty cold you’ve got there”
Spinner eyed the two of them warily, but he knew he wasn’t really in any state to fight it so he allowed himself to be sat back and spoon fed a little of the soup his friend had brought over.
“Mm, is good” He mumbled, feeling a little embarrassed at being in such a state “But I feel younger than Wrangler like this” He pushed away the next mouthful “I’ll have more later, promise”
“I’ll make sure of it” Wooly chuckled, but conceded for now and put the rest of his soup aside “You get some sleep, ah’ll put the troublemaker to bed” He gestured with a thumb to the boy standing sheepishly in the doorway. “He’ll go down easy with me I’m sure”
“Probably too easily” Spinner muttered. He’d always been slightly jealous at how naturally Wooly and Wrangler seemed to click, but he couldn’t deny that Wrangler would likely put up less of a fight about going to bed with him. And less of a fight is what Spinner needed that evening, so he decided he’d allow it.
Wrangler straightened up as Wooly started walking towards him, trying to seem alert despite the fatigue slowly overtaking him.
“Um, can I say goodnight to aba?”
“Hm I wouldn’t get too close to him – can you say it from here?”
Wrangler nodded, leaning his head as far into the room as he could whilst keeping his feet outside “Goodnight aba” He paused for a moment “Love you”
Spinner replied incoherently, but it was obvious what he meant. Wooly closed his bedroom door quietly before turning to the child.
“Alright champ, you ready to go to bed?”
“Can I have some warm milk first?”
“Ah, uh sure”
They walked back down the stairs towards the kitchen. Wooly retrieved the milk from the fridge and – being a slightly old fashioned man who didn’t trust microwaves – got to heating it up on the stove top. He then grabbed a small glass from the cupboard and handed it to Wrangler.
“That’s the wrong cup” Wrangler frowned, as if this knowledge was somehow obvious “My milk goes in the green cactus cup”
Wooly blinked a couple of times, perplexed, wondering why on earth it mattered.
Truthfully, Wooly was not great with kids. Most kids that is, or children in general. He had been an only child and never desired kids of his own, so for the most part he had no idea how to deal with their inconsistent quirks. Sheep and horses, he found quite easy. He knew how to handle them at any rate and truthfully would rather hang out with his horse Calam than any of the other villager’s offspring. Wrangler was a special exception, and would have been even if there wasn’t such a large secret hanging over his head.
In truth, although the boy didn’t know it, Wooly was a biological parent to him. Not in any grand affair or whirlwind passion, oh no. Wooly wasn’t about that life and Spinner certainly wasn’t, being an aro-ace man who’s loneliness had caught up to him. When Spinner had asked if his best friend would consider donating to him under the agreement that Wooly wouldn’t have to be an active parent, it had seemed simple at the time. Truly, even if Wooly hadn’t have been Wrangler’s bio father, he’d likely have ended up in the life of any kid of Spinner’s, but it did add some extra tension to the dynamic.
Wrangler himself was currently blissfully unaware of the whole situation, and revered Wooly unto his idol of an uncle figure, and to him that was enough. Still, if it would make the kid happy, Wooly would find him that green cactus cup. He eventually found it in the dishwasher, and having made sure it was clean, transferred the warm milk into it. This time, Wrangler was much more receptive, and drank it eagerly. Once it was gone, he handed the little cup back to Wooly, trying to stifle a yawn.
“I think its time fer you to get your forty winks” Wooly smiled.
“I can’t wink” Wrangler retorted, rubbing his eyes. He attempted to demonstrate, merely blinking his eyes rapidly in his efforts.
“Ah meant it’s time for you to go to bed”
“But I’m not tired” the child protested, even as his eyelids began to droop.
“I think you are” Wooly chuckled, bending down “Come on, I’ll carry you back up”
This seemed to placate Wrangler, who clambered eagerly onto the cowboy’s back.
“Oof, you’ve grown since last week, I’m sure of it” Wooly mumbled to himself, starting to ascend the stairs “Can you brush your teeth by yourself?”
“Uh huh, but aba usually does it with me”
“I’m afraid Spinner isn’t really up to that right now” As if to emphasize his point, a particularly loud sneeze came from behind Spinner’s bedroom door. “But I’ll keep watch”
Once Wrangler had brushed his teeth and washed his face, he was finally content to clamber into bed, and snuggled up quickly with his favourite stuffed sheep plushie. Wooly sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing down the covers.
“You good to sleep Wrangie?”
“Aba reads me a story before bed. We’ve been reading the one about the three goats and the monster under the bridge” He pointed across the room to a large book of fairytales with patterned writing on the front.
“Ah, I’m afraid I can’t read from that book like yer pa - I can barely read English” Wooly grinned. This wasn’t a complete lie. Wooly COULD read, but he was slow to do so, having lacked most education in his life. Wooly had grown up a working boy on ranches and farms in a small town, far from the higher education his best friend had had that enabled Spinner to read to Wrangler in three languages.
“Oh” Wrangler seemed dejected. He loved Wooly, truthfully he was Wrangler’s favourite person, but even a child could see when something was out of routine, and he missed the soothing voice of his father reading the books. Wooly seemed to realise this too, since he coughed awkwardly.
“W-well er, I’m not too good at reading stories, buckaroo but I’m sure I could still tell you one”
“Okay!”
“Hm, lets see, which ones do I know? Do you know the one about Jack and the giant beanstalk?”
“Yeah”
“Little red riding hood?”
“Uh huh”
“Ugly duckling?”
“Yep”
“I’ll be honest I’m plum outta stories, kiddo. Never grew up with much myself”
“What WERE you like as a kid, Unka Wooly?”
“Me?” The cowboy pondered for a moment, then grinned “I think I was a lot like you”
“Really?” Wrangler seemed a lot more interested now. He’d never actually heard anything of his idol’s childhood, and was curious to know.
“Heh, yeah, this one time me and some ranch hands – those are the fellas that help herd the sheep and cattle and stuff like that – we found a huge gator in the local lake – luckily just before Alejandro jumped in!”
Wrangler’s eyes widened with amazement as Wooly told several tales from his childhood and teen years (that were child friendly, of course) they came more naturally than any fairy tale to him since he’d lived them, and he’d never been the creative type anyhow. When Wooly had finished his last tale, Wrangler thought for a moment longer before asking;
“So … did you have parents, Unka Wooly? I know zayde and bubbe are aba’s parents, but what about yours? Were they bossy like aba?”
“Watch it kid, show yer pa some respect” Wooly grinned, endeared by Wrangler’s brazen cheek. A sudden dark look came over his face, but he quickly replaced it with one of neutrality, shaking his head.
“Ah, my parents were. Well. Ya see kid” the cowboy paused again, wondering how best to broach a sensitive topic. Both for his sake, as well as Wrangler’s. “Some people aren’t meant to be parents, I think. I know you think yer pa’s a bit of a stick in the mud sometimes, but he loves you very much”
Wooly wished he could have said the same about his own father. Truthfully, Sheriff Sherman had been a vile, twisted man who hid his corruption behind his shiny gold star. There were probably worse men out there, Wooly knew that. Sheriff’s flaws lay mostly in neglect rather than outright violence, but he had a temper, and terrible habits. Too many nights on the bottle or too many losses of poker and Wooly and his mother would have bared the brunt of it for the rest of the evening. His excessive habits are what had put him into an early grave, and Wooly couldn’t have said he was entirely upset to receive that letter several years ago.
Wooly’s mother, who he’d loved far more, had ultimately also let her son down by running away when he was a teen. Wooly still had some contact with her, as well as her new man he was at least grateful treated her better, but in some ways he felt he’d been let down by the both of them. It was what had been a contributing factor to Wooly’s decision not to be an active parent. He despises his father, yet he felt a lot of his tendencies within him. Wooly tried so hard not to let himself fall victim to those addictive substances, he owed his childhood self that much. The scared, cowering boy that had wedged himself between the back of the sofa because he heard his father had lost his week’s wages down at the bar again and was looking for something to take it out on.
Wrangler was so lucky he thought Spinner’s rules were the height of unfair parenting. Wooly swore to himself that’s the worst he’d ever know. Wooly was all at once very glad his father wasn’t around anymore, because he was certain he wouldn’t have let him go anywhere near Wrangler. The boy would have been everything his traditional, hypocritical, right wing Christian father would have hated, and Wooly was glad of the life experiences he’d had to have not succumbed to the same ideals. Despite his better relationship with his mother, Wooly hadn’t even told her that she was a grandmother – at least partially since he didn’t want to risk her not understanding the delicate situation surrounding the matter. That and he hadn’t seen her in person for many years, and wasn’t about to start now. Somethings were better swept under his rug, because that’s the kind of man Wooly Sherman was.
“Alright kiddo, time to sleep”
Wooly pulled the covers up to Wrangler’s chin, and tucked the little sheep plush in beside him. Wooly had actually been the one to buy him that as a post-baby shower gift for Spinner. He was pleased he liked it so much. Wrangler was clearly trying very hard to stay awake a little longer, but his eyelids were drooping just as fast as he kept trying to open them. He finally gave in, yawning loudly before settling his head on his pillow.
“Goodnight, Unka Wooly”
“Goodnight Wrangler”
Wooly had almost said ‘son’, but he didn’t.