by Jake Mactire
“Jeffrey, at first it was cute, you being a cowboy, your ‘aw shucks’ way of talking, an occasional dinner of that lard-heavy chicken fried steak with country music, rodeos, and going two-stepping. But rather than just enjoy it occasionally, you make it a lifestyle. Can’t you see just how great it would be for the two of us if you could let that go? Let this go?” He gestured around, indicating the house and ranch. “Oh we can go out to the Rawhide II to go country dancing occasionally, or watch the gay rodeo when it comes to the Bay Area. You know I really like it when you fuck me all dressed up as a cowboy, but everyday gets very tiring.”
“Robert, that’s me though. You’re asking me to become someone else. I wouldn’t be happy bein’ different. I talk the way I do because that’s how I learned. I dress the way I do because it’s comfortable and practical. I like country music. I like chicken fried steak, and chili, and beef, and biscuits. I like this place, and feel real comfortable here. Can’t you see, tryin’ to change me is gonna make me miserable?”
He stood up. At first I thought he was going to come over to me and hug me. But he headed off to the office where he’d left his laptop. “I need to do some work before this cowboy fete later. I suppose I should take a couple of Zantac so the grease we’re bound to have won’t upset my digestive system.”
“Might be a good idea.”
“Think on what I said, Jeffrey; we could be very happy and good together. And being civilized never hurt anyone.”
“Whatever. I’m goin’ out to my studio in the shed and design a couple of sculptures.” The silence between us was profound as I went to get my shirt, got my boots on, and headed out the door. I could hear the keys on Robert’s laptop as he typed.
I had started working on a new model for a sculpture a few days ago. As I molded the plasticine model on which to make the mold, I lost all track of time. Before I knew it, it was already afternoon and time to go join the party in the bunkhouse. I put things away in my studio and headed into the house; Robert had already anticipated me and was dressed in another flashy cowboy shirt and pressed jeans.
“Ready?”
“Just let me wash up. I was out working on a sculpture.” He didn’t say anything, but his sigh let me know he didn’t approve. I quickly washed my face and hands, and we headed out and across the yard to the bunkhouse. The door to the common area was open, and I could hear voices. José had returned with Sandy and Maria.
“Hey, boss! Beer for you?” José thrust a Dos Equis at me and turned to Robert. “What about you, Roberto, a beer?”
“I’m not really fond of beer, do you have anything else?”
José looked kind of startled as if to say how could anyone not like beer, but then said, “The ladies are drinking lemonade with tequila. You like one of those, Roberto?” Mike snickered from the corner at the implication José was making, but Robert didn’t catch it.
“That sounds lovely.” Robert seemed to be happy that the cowboys were being friendly to him. He was missing the undercurrent though. I’d have to keep my eyes open.
“Hey, Jeff, hey there, Robert, buddy!” Mike sauntered over and clapped Robert on the back. “I’m glad you came. I made the son of a bitch stew I told you about. It’s real cowboy chow. I hope you like it. Hey, I got an idea; let’s do shots of tequila!” Josh immediately appeared with a bottle, several shot glasses, a bowl with cut up limes, and a salt shaker.
“Hey there, Robert! Nice shirt.” Josh was now bein’ really friendly to Robert, and the girls snickered. Something was goin’ down and at Robert’s expense, but for the life of me I couldn’t see what it was now. The common room to the bunkhouse was plainly furnished, but it had obviously been cleaned. I could smell the chile and hominy in the posole, and the meaty smell of Mike’s stew. “I Got Friends in Low Places” by Garth Brooks was playing on the radio. I took the shot of tequila that was being offered and the lime. I put a little salt on my hand and passed the shaker to Robert who imitated me.
“To friends!” Sandy made the toast. We all answered, “To friends.” I winced as the caramel taste of the tequila hit followed by the sour astringency of the lime and then the clean taste of the salt. Josh was refilling my shot glass, and he and I did another shot. Mike came over and draped his arm around Robert’s shoulder.
“So good buddy, you don’t mind spicy food, do ya?”
“No. I don’t care for it as spicy as Jeffrey likes it, but I do enjoy piquant food.”
“We didn’t figure you was a wimp, but we did tone it down for the ladies. Hope you don’t mind?”
“Of course not!”
José approached me with another shot. I took it and we said in unison, “Salud.”
“Well, everyone, time to eat! Boys, each of you is gonna have two bowls since the stew is more of a guys’ dish.” Josh and José began setting out bowls of posole, tortillas, hot sauce, limes, and chopped onion. Mike was serving bowls of his stew. I noticed Josh spend a little time over one bowl, which he gave to Robert.
“Just gettin’ you some good lean meat in the posole, buddy!” he said to explain what was happening.
“Robert, try my stew and tell me what you think. It did turn out good if I have to say so myself.” Mike dipped into his own stew, and I followed. The meaty taste of son of a bitch stew was tempered a bit by a liberal amount of red chile. I had a piece of the heart and some liver in my stew. It was fork tender from long cooking. There were potatoes in the mixture, too, cooked to buttery softness.
“Mike, this is really good.”
“I told ya, Jeff, I make a mean son of a bitch stew. Let’s have another shot!”
Mike poured for me. It occurred to me that they were trying to get me drunk. I didn’t protest too much, given just what a bitch the last few weeks had been.
“What’s in son of a bitch stew Mike?” I noticed that Robert had finished most of his bowl. “I like it.”
“Well, buddy, it’s a real cowboy dish. Waddies on the range used to make it around calvin’ time. You know ‘waddie’ is just another word for cowboy, don’t ya?” Robert nodded.
“You take a fresh killed calf and put in the liver, heart, marrow gut, tripe, kidneys, and some meat, lots of onion and garlic and red chile and cook it all day. I put the balls in too. It’s my secret ingredient.” I heard Josh and José snicker as Robert turned green and pushed the bowl away. He drank a bit of his lemonade and pulled the bowl of posole toward himself.
“So what is posole then?”
“It’s a soup made with pork, hominy, and red chile. I use country style pork spare ribs,” José explained to Robert. “Like Mike said, we did leave out some of the chile for the ladies. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Robert took a spoonful of the broth.
I looked around the kitchen. On the counter where Josh had fixed the bowls was a bottle of hot sauce called Da Bomb. It was a sauce fortified with the chemical which makes chile pepper hot. Robert was turning a shade of red-purple. I could see sweat breaking out on his brow.
José had a very concerned look on his face. “It’s not too hot is it? We made it mild for the ladies.” At this both Maria and Sandy had a spoonful.
“Uh… no, uh… may I have some water, please?” Josh jumped up and got Robert a glass of water.
“Robert, you don’t have to eat it if it’s too hot.”
“Nonsense, Jeffrey!” He took another bite and continued to look tortured. I could see this was gonna be an interesting night, so I asked for another shot. Sandy and Maria did a shot with me. I leaned over and whispered in Robert’s ear.
“They’re funnin’ with ya again. Just keep bein’ friendly back; pretty soon, you’ll all be laughin’ together.”
“Don’t worry, Jeffrey, they’re not gonna get the best of me.”
“Don’t get in a pissin’ contest with ’em, okay?” He ignored me.
By the time we were done eating, I was drunk. I’m a happy drunk, so I ended up singing with Mike, although nothing so raunchy as
“The Old Jism Trail.” We sang “Ten Rounds with Jose Cuervo” and “Jose Cuervo (You Are a Friend of Mine).” Robert got this pained look on his face and asked where the bathroom was. Josh directed him, and as soon as he was out of earshot, everyone started laughing. He came back and made his excuses and started to head back up to the house. I got up to follow him, but by this time was pretty unsteady on my feet. Mike jumped up to help me.
“Okay, Jeff, my turn to help you out like you helped me when I was drunk last night.” He pulled my arm over his shoulders and put his arm around my waist.
“Ya know, Mike.” I was slurring my words pretty heavily by this time. “You got a really cute ass. If I was single, I’d be all over it like white on rice. Oh-oh….” Robert had come back for me and was glaring at me. He grabbed my other arm and began almost carrying me to the house.
“Well, buddy, ya ain’t single.” Mike was now glaring at Robert.
“Don’t he got a cute ass, Robert? Oh, I forgot, you just take it, you don’t give. Sorry!” They carried me up to my room. Mike tugged my boots off, and Robert unbuttoned my shirt. About that time I passed out, so I had no idea just who took off my pants.
Chapter Four
MY HEADACHE woke me up the next morning. My mouth was dry as hell, and it seemed my tongue was glued in place. My teeth felt like they were coated with pond scum. Robert was making a huge racket, and it only made my head throb more. I dragged myself to the bathroom and had several glasses of water.
“For God’s sake, Jeffrey, put some clothes on. The way you run around in your underwear, you’d think you were some type of an exhibitionist or something.”
“Mornin’ to you too,” I said thickly. That much water so fast was making me a bit queasy. I looked in the mirror above the sink. I looked like hell—circles under my eyes, and a hang dog expression on my face.
“Do you remember last night?”
“Bits and pieces, why?”
“I suppose you don’t remember telling that blond cowboy that he has a cute ass.”
I reddened a bit. I didn’t remember, but I ain’t exactly shy, and Mike has an adorable little ass, so I probably did. “Well, he does. You even said it yourself. No harm done, I don’t think. If he’s pissed, I’ll apologize.”
“Don’t bother apologizing to that little cock teasing bastard! About the tenth time I ran to the john last night, I realized they must have spiked my food with something! That’s why they were being so friendly.”
“Remember when I told you not to eat it if it was too hot for you? I saw a bottle of super hot sauce on the counter and figured they might’a put some in your posole. That’s why I also told you they were funnin’ with you. Worse thing you can do with ’em is tryin’ to BS your way through. They’ll respect you if you do say it’s too hot.” Robert glared at me, as I reached into the cabinet in my bathroom and got some aspirin.
“They were all in on it, weren’t they? Even the women! And they were making fun of me all night. You told me, and I finally realized that when I thought about some of their comments, ‘the ladies are drinking lemonade do you want some? We cut the spice down for the ladies. Is that okay with you?’ Bastards! How can you deal with trash like that? Oh, yes, I forgot, you like garbage. You like it enough to lust after that blond cretin’s ass.”
“Robert, I’m sorry if I caused ya any upset. I’m not in the mood to argue right now.”
“That fucking blond guy couldn’t keep his eyes off you when we had to carry you to bed and undress you last night. All he is, is a tease. I told him he was welcome to stay with me, and he told me ‘Nope, you’re in a relationship with a guy I respect’.”
“You came on to Mike last night?”
“You haven’t been sleeping with me.”
“Well, Robert, with the constant put downs you throw my way, and that holier than thou attitude, you sure as hell ain’t been very attractive lately.” I could feel my temper rising, and I didn’t care. “You say you want me to come back to San Francisco with you, but all you do is put me, my life, my friends, and what I like to do down. I am fucking sick and tired of it.”
“As I have repeatedly said, Jeffrey, I am trying to change you for your own good.”
“No, you’re not! You’re tryin’ to change me since you realized that your cowboy fantasy is great when you want a roll in the hay. To have a real cowboy park his boots under your bed is a threat to you. You told me about when you were just a little guy bein’ teased about bein’ a sissy. Well, I got teased too. And I beat the crap out of the motherfucker that did it. That threatens you. Any display of masculinity that’s not fake scares you. And Robert, I am sick and fucking tired of your shit. If you really loved me, if you ever loved me, you would accept me for who I am. All I was to you was a cowboy fantasy. You need to get the hell outta here and get back to San Francisco. ’Cause I sure as hell don’t want you anymore. This is where I belong, and this is where I’m stayin’.”
“I can’t believe you’d stay here in the middle of nowhere with all these hicks rather than be with me!”
“Robert, I’m a hick too. Just like them. And I’m damn proud of it. Now git! Pack your stuff and leave.”
“What about your things?”
“I don’t reckon I’ve got a whole hell of a lot of stuff there. Just box it all up, and I’ll send you some money to send it to me.”
“So this is it? You’re not even going to try to make our relationship work?”
“You think that I haven’t tried to make it work between us?”
He looked down. “I don’t know, maybe.”
“Believe me, Robert, I have tried. For us to work out, we’d have to meet in the middle. You don’t seem to be willin’ to do that, and to be really frank, I’m not sure if I want to. Can’t you see that unless both of us change significantly, we ain’t ever gonna be happy together? Look how angry and upset you’ve been since you got here. You’re not happy here. I understand that. Robert, don’t you know I’m not happy in San Francisco? I thought it would be great, bein’ a gay man there and bein’ with you, but I belong here. Yep, this is the end. Just be careful what you wish for next time ’cause when you get it, you just might find out it’s not what you really wanted.”
“Spare me the cowboy philosophy poetry.”
“Goodbye, Robert.”
He looked back at me. “You know, Jeff, I guess you’re right. We just aren’t right for each other. Maybe someday we can be in touch without hurting one another. Goodbye, Jeffrey.”
“Goodbye Robert; please take good care.”
“You too, Jeffrey; I’m sorry we both want different things.”
“Me too, Robert.”
I turned and walked into my room and closed the door. I listened for a few minutes as he got his stuff together and headed out. I could hear the car door slam, and then the engine start, rev, and get quieter as the distance increased. When I couldn’t hear the car anymore, I became aware of clapping from downstairs. I grabbed a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, and put on a pair of socks, and headed down. Sandy and Maria were at the kitchen table. A pot of coffee was on the stove, and Mike, José, Josh, and Wayne all stood there grinnin’ at me. Sandy and Maria both looked happy as hell. I couldn’t help but smilin’ a bit myself.
“I reckon y’all heard that?” A chorus of yeses answered me.
“Jeff, I am so glad you got rid of him.” Sandy jumped up and gave me a big hug.
“Yeah boss, you deserve lots better. He was always nagging on you. He is an idiot.” José clapped me on the shoulder.
“Thanks. Just remember, he’s hurtin’, too, okay? Right now I really need some coffee.” Maria jumped up and grabbed a mug and poured a cup.
“Cream or sugar?”
“Just black, thanks, Maria, I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. I think both of you will be happier now.”
“You happy, Jeff?” Wayne was lookin’ at me all serious-like now.
“I reckon I will be when I
feel a bit better. I had way too much to drink last night.”
“Well, as long as you’re happy.” He gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder. “It’s time we got a move on. Josh, why don’t you take the ladies home? Mike and me are gonna ride up to where the cattle was rustled. If there are any cattle around that area, we’ll herd them away from there. José, you want to make sure the cattle pens are in good shape? It’ll be roundup time in a few weeks.”
“What ya got for me to do, Wayne?”
“You just get over your hangover and work on your art. Your dad told me how good you were, and I aim to see. So you get out there and make somethin’ pretty.”
“Sure thing, Wayne, and thanks; I do gotta go into town in a bit. I saw Mike on Saturday and need to tell Sheriff Johnston.” Wayne stared at me, and then clapped Mike on the back.
“Lucky break for you boy, that’s great!”
“After you talk to Dad, if he doesn’t throw you in jail, come by and I’ll have a burger and a beer for ya at One Eyed Jack’s.”
“That makes me remember when we were kids. You always used to say, ‘my dad is Sheriff Johnston, and he’s gonna throw you in jail if you don’t stop it’. Are you workin’ tonight?”
“Nope, Maria and I are celebratin’ with you that you’re single, and Mike’s free.”
“That’s right, Jeff. And Mike, I am happy you are in the clear; I knew you wouldn’t hurt Pedro.” Maria gave Mike a hug, and he turned beet red. She and Sandy filed out, followed by José, Josh, and Wayne. As Mike turned toward the door, I said, “Mike, buddy, a word?”
“Sure, Jeff, what’s up?”
“If I was outta line last night, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get ya upset or anything.”
“You mean when you told me I have a cute ass?” Mike grinned at me.
“Yeah, that’s what I mean.”
“Well, buddy, the way you run around in your underwear, I kinda noticed your ass is cute, too, so I guess we’re even.”
“I hope Robert didn’t do anything to get ya mad either.”