illphated
Don’t Lean on Me
By illphated
Published on illphated.com
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In the wind-scoured outskirts of Dusthorn, Texas, where the sky never blinked and the sun punched like a prizefighter, there stood a cactus so mean even the vultures kept their distance. No one knew its age or where it came from, but it grew tall and twisted, like it had secrets it refused to tell. Folks called it “Spineheart.”
Red Carver knew the name well. A tall cowboy with a dust-red beard and a past heavier than a double-barreled shotgun, Red wasn’t known for talking. He was known for getting things done — solo.
One scorched July morning, Red came riding into Dusthorn looking for water, work, and something close to rest. His horse, Ellie, had lost a shoe crossing the San Diablo Ridge, and his boots were full of thorns. He passed the saloon, ignored the lazy stares, and made for the only shade in sight: Spineheart.
He was halfway into a lean when the old man on the porch spoke up.
“Don’t.”
Red turned, his elbow hovering an inch from the cactus’s bark.
“Why not?”
The old man looked up from his whittling. “You lean on Spineheart, it leans back in its own way. Seen men lose more than blood trying to rest their burdens on the wrong things.”
Red grunted but stood tall again. The shade was tempting, the pain in his legs screaming for relief — but something about the old man’s tone made him pause. He adjusted his bandana, stepped back, and nodded.
“Then I’ll find another way.”
And he did.
Instead of leaning, he chopped old boards from a busted corral nearby and built a bench. Instead of waiting, he offered to fix the saloon’s busted well. Instead of asking for credit, he offered trade. And little by little, Dusthorn stopped treating Red like a ghost with a past and started treating him like a man with a future.
Years later, when they painted the big mural on the side of the Dusthorn general store — the one tourists love to photograph — it wasn’t a saloon, or a shootout, or a train robbery they painted.
It was Red Carver. Upright. One hand on his hip. The other near but not touching the cactus.
Above him, in big bold letters:
DON’T LEAN ON ME.
Below him, in small script:
There’s always another way.
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Moral:
Sometimes the things we reach for in desperation are the very things that’ll bite back. Pride isn’t about never needing help — it’s about having the strength to stand, even when it’s easier to lean. Always look for another way.
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