'I'm so sorry, Curtis. Please forgive me.'
Ollie stared at his phone and sighed as he deleted the message. He'd typed and retyped it at least a hundred times over the last 20 hours or so that he'd been on the bus, but he couldn't bring himself to actually send it to his dog. The dog that hadn't come with him in the end. The dog he'd left behind.
The sheep was exhausted. He hadn't slept at all since leaving CVU, not that he wanted to. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Curtis. Apparently he wasn't exhausted enough to stop crying, though, as he felt his cheeks grow damp once again. He shifted to face the window and tried not to look at the empty seat next to him. The seat Curtis was supposed to be sitting in. They were supposed to escape from this place together.
Escape
But what was he escaping, really? University? His friends? His family? Himself? Ollie felt lost, separated from his flock.
He wiped his furry arm across his face and tried to steel himself once more. How long did it take to get from Colorado to Park City anyway? How much longer was this trip? How much longer would he have to suffer before he could go home and just forget?
His phone began to buzz and Ollie glanced down quickly, hoping it would be Curtis.
FAKE MOM - DO NOT ANSWER
The text flashed at him from his screen and he felt his stomach drop. He quickly forwarded the call to voicemail as images began to flood his mind. Of a beautiful and kind sheep with wooly white fur that always gave the best hugs. She was as round as the pies she loved to bake, and twice as warm.
The phone rang again in his hooves.
MOM - DO NOT ANSWER
Ollie frowned at his screen. He paused and read the text over and over as he flexed his thumb in preparation to forward the call again. Why was he hesitating? She smelled of vanilla and oats and sang when she thought no one was listening. She was patient, even when he didn't deserve it. He shook his head and ignored the call once more before pulling up his location on his phone.
He was nearly there from the looks of it. Maybe another hour and he'd be in the town, then he could make his way to the resort. He looked out the window and tried to distract himself with the trees that rushed past, their leaves in the early stages of changing as Summer neared its end. It was a warm September day, even this high up in the mountains. He pulled out his phone again and pulled up the resort's website.
ELK RIDGE MOUNTAIN
UTAH'S ORIGINAL OKTOBERFEST IS BACK.
NOW OPEN
The highly-anticipated festival begins late-August and lasts through mid-October, taking place every Saturday and Sunday, along with Labor Day.
If his assumptions were correct (and he had to admit they were half-baked at best) he would be able to cross over sometime this week since the resort seemed to operate on a weekly basis. He had enough money to stay somewhere cheap for a couple weeks if need be, and he figured he could ask some of the locals for more information. At least Stripes and some key individuals at CVU seemed knowledgeable about the switch-over, so maybe it worked the same way here? He just hoped he wouldn't have to wait until the snow came. Maybe he'd look for a job? Was Mr Fairhauser still hiring at the ski lodge coffee shop?
His phone rang again.
MOM
Guilt racked Ollie's chest as another memory pushed its way to the front.
His mom's comforting grip as she pulled the little lamb through the crowd on a beautiful autumn day. Leaves were everywhere, but his favorite were the orange ones because they reminded him of the pumpkins his parents grew. It was Oktoberfest, after all, and Pumpkin Ale was the crowd favorite. His mom stopped at a stall and bought them a pretzel to share with cheese AND frosting dipping sauces. It was his reward for being such a big sheep on his first visit to the festival to see his dad at work. His little brother and sister were still too young, so they were with his Gran-gran and Pop-pop for the day. He eagerly tore into his bit of pretzel while his mom chatted with the raccoon that ran the stall. His parents knew all of the stall-runners, after-all--it was a close-knit community here. He finished his pretzel just in time to see his dad waving and smiling as he leaned over the white barrier to the beer-garden.
Ollie shook his head and realized the call had gone to voicemail again, this time on its own. Memories clashed in his mind's eye. He tried to banish them but they reasserted themselves in force, stronger and stronger. God, he wished he weren't stuck on this bus so he could go for a run to clear his mind. He looked out the window again and realized he knew exactly where he was. He'd driven this way so many times; he'd even run it on occasion. In High School.
No. He hadn't! He was from the South, not Utah.
Well yeah, but his family had moved here when he'd turned 4, even if he could only barely remember the ordeal. His dad always bragged about bringing over the best of the Southern Craft Breweries with them. They just did things diff'rent there.
Before he knew it the bus was pulling into the station. And then he was standing in the middle of town. He felt dizzy.
-
Ollie felt better once he had some coffee, even if he was still exhausted from his trip. The caffeine helped him to clear his thoughts. It was finally time to make his final trip as a Sheep. The thought made him anxious and sad, but he pushed through and pulled out his phone to order a pickup on the local rideshare app. He stopped when he saw the notification of the previously missed calls from his mom. The most recent had a voicemail, but he was afraid to listen to it.
Guilt gnawed at his stomach. She was probably worried sick. He hadn't spoken with her since he'd left for college and she likely just wanted to know if things were going well. He'd promised to keep her updated and had clearly failed on that promise.
Maybe he could make it up to her with a quick visit. His house was pretty close, after all. Just a couple of miles away, actually. And he could really use a rest. Besides, who even knew when he'd be able to make his crossing?
-
The house was eerily familiar as he walked up: decently sized with the aesthetic of a modern, elevated cabin. It was brand new to him, but why did he have so many specific memories here? His first kiss behind the boxelder tree on the side of the house. Chasing his siblings through the bushes and across the street as they played their night games. Family Parties. The first time his dad let him try a sip of his signature brew.
Dread gave way to nostalgia as he stepped onto the porch. He raised a hoof to knock at the front door, but felt silly knocking to get into his own house. He opened the door and stepped inside, careful to avoid making too much noise with his hooves. The smell of vanilla filled the air as he made his way into the kitchen. And there she was, bustling about as she sang to herself. His mom.
He was so distracted that he bumped into a stool at the counter bar and she spun in surprise.
"Ollie! I've been tryin to call you! What in the world are you doin home?" She didn't hesitate a moment before coming to pull him into a big hug.
She always gave the fuckin best hugs.