by Jake Mactire
“Ya know, Jeff, I just love cowboyin’. Even when I didn’t have any friends at some of the ranches, it was great.”
“Yep, even though we don’t have any beer, like the old commercial says, it don’t get any better than this.” He leaned his head on my shoulder.
“I never figured I’d find a boyfriend or partner I could just be me with,” Mike said, “I was always afraid if I did come outta the closet, it would be the end of bein’ a man. I’m really happy you showed me I can be both.”
“The important thing, buddy, is bein’ proud of who ya are. Do you know anythin’ about gay history and the gay rights movement?”
“Can’t say as I do; it’s not somethin’ they teach in schools in Nebraska.”
“The gay rights movement in the US started in 1969, in New York. At that time, it was normal for the cops to go into gay bars, raid the place, kick the shit outta some of the guys, I’ve heard rape some of ’em, but I don’t know if that’s true, and then arrest ’em, publish their names in the paper, and make sure everyone knew they was arrested in a gay bar. At that time it usually meant the end of the guy’s job, reputation, friends, just about everything. In New York, there’s this bar called Stonewall. It was a drag queen bar. One night the police raided it. And the drag queens fought back. They tore off their high heels and beat the cops with the spikes, they really fought back. The neighborhood was gay, and they joined in. And these drag queens beat the shit outta New York City policemen. It caused a riot in New York. The riot spread to San Francisco. And that’s how the gay rights movement started.”
“We’re still fightin’ for rights that everyone else takes for granted, ain’t we?”
“We are. A lotta people don’t understand how important it is to be able to marry, or at least get the same protection for our relationships as married couples get. Remember Terry Schiavo?” He nodded.
“Her husband wanted one thing for her and her parents another. And after goin’ through hell on both sides, the court sided with the husband, since in a married relationship the spouse is the one who makes those decisions. I know people in San Francisco and LA who lost their homes and everything else after their partner died. If they hadn’t made a will and remade it several times over, the survivor would be forced to sell their home and give half to the partner’s parents. Even if the parents were never there and hated their kid for bein’ gay. Let’s use you and me for example. Say we keep goin’ like we are, and fifty years down the road, we’re co-owners of the ranch. You pass on, and your father is still alive. He could force me to sell the ranch and give half to him.” Mike had a horrified expression on his face. “It’s just as important when a kid is involved. There’ve been cases of kids gettin’ taken away from gay parents, just for the parents bein’ gay.”
“That’s really fucked up.”
“There’s a lot of people who have a belief system based on hate. And they try as hard as they can to perpetuate hate against whatever group is up for that sorta thing. Did you know that one of the evangelical churches, I forget which one, just said in the 1980s that slavery was wrong? Their justification on havin’ previously condoned it was the Bible talks about how to treat slaves. Those people are the ones fightin’ against gay rights like they fought against racial equality, like they fought against religious equality and women’s rights.”
“Jeffy?” I could tell Mike was a bit upset about our talk and was gonna change the subject.
“Yeah, bud?”
“Do you mind if we just cuddle tonight? I mean, I’d love to play, and bein’ together with you that way is way beyond incredible, but I just want to cuddle and hold each other tonight.”
“I think you read my mind, buddy. That sounds just great; you about ready to turn in?”
“Yeah.” I got up and turned off the lamps. The fire in the wood stove had died down, but it was still throwing off some light. I climbed back into bed with Mike, and he threw the covers over me. We looked at each other for a few minutes before a nice long good night kiss.
“Mike, let’s get some sleep; we done used up this day.” I think we both fell asleep immediately.
IT MUST have been about two in the morning when I woke up. I’d had a couple of cups of coffee with dinner, and coffee goes right through me. I slowly and quietly pulled out of bed so as not to wake Mike. He mumbled something in his sleep and then turned over and began snoring softly. I like it when he snores. It’s not loud, and I know he’s there. I got it bad, don’t I? I pulled on my boots and my hat. I was dry by now, and the sky had cleared. It was a bit windy and cold, but that’s why I was wearing wool. I didn’t bother to go to the outhouse, but just walked a few feet away from the cabin and did what I had to do. While I was draining, I looked up. The stars were so bright it seemed like you could touch them. It was a dark moon, and the Milky Way was clearly visible. A shooting star streaked across the sky, then another, and still yet another. We must be in the midst of a meteor shower. I finished up what I was doing and went back over to the cabin.
“Mike, get out here. You gotta see this?”
“What, rustlers?” he mumbled, half asleep.
“No, buddy, get your boots and hat on and bring a blanket. You gotta see this.” He joined me pretty quick. There was a log placed next to a fire pit off in front of the cabin. We sat on the log, and I took the blanket and threw it around us.
“What’s up, Jeff, we coulda done this in the cabin where it’s warm.”
“Look up.”
“Holy shit! Lookit all them shootin’ stars! This is amazin’.”
“Okay, you seen it. You can go back in the warm cabin now.”
He smiled at me. “Sorry to be a grump.”
“I can deal with it.”
We huddled together for about an hour, watching the show above. It was an amazing sight to watch. Finally the time between the shooting stars was starting to stretch out, and we both noticed it was cold out! A frost had settled down, and the ground was a silver white in the starlight. We got up kind of stiffly and headed back into the cabin. Mike threw the blanket over the bed, and I added a log or two to the wood stove. We both jumped in the bunk and cuddled up to get warm again.
“So, buddy, you wish on one of them fallin’ stars?”
He looked at me all serious like. “I already got my wish, Jeff.” He squeezed me tighter. “What about you? You make a wish?”
“I already got it too.”
“I wonder if we wished the same thing.”
“I reckon we did; good night again.”
“Night.”
DAWN seemed to come way too early. Lucky it was clear and sunny, but windy and cold. Breakfast was cold stew and macaroni, and hot coffee. We both looked tired, but I wouldn’t have traded the shooting stars last night for the most comfortable night’s rest. Mike mentioned he felt the same way. Since we were coming back that night, we didn’t bother to clean up, and we left our rain gear in the cabin. We rode for a couple of hours and finally got to the high pastures. There was a lot of water and meadows with good grass here, but since the frost last night, the grazing would be better at a lower elevation, so we decided to drive all the cattle down. Charlie, my horse, and Mike’s horse, Thundercloud, were both good cutting horses and well-trained. We began slowly moving the beeves out.
I started singing to quiet the beeves. It seems when they hear something soft and soothing, they move along a lot more orderly.
“Come listen to a ranger, you kindhearted stranger,
This song though a sad one you’re welcome to hear,
We’ve kept the Comanches away from your ranches,
And followed them far over the Texas Frontier,
Your wives and daughters we guarded from slaughter,
Through conflicts and struggles I shudder to tell,
So fight your own battles and guard your own cattle,
For us Texas Rangers must bid you farewell.”
Mike joined in singing with me. We both have good voices and so
und nice together. The cattle seemed to calm down and moved along downhill where we wanted them to go. We kept singing for quite a while when we finished the “Texas Ranger’s Lament,” we sang “The Whorehouse Bells were Ringing.” A lot of cowboy songs are pretty dirty, but the cattle don’t know the difference. We continued on with “Sweet Betsy from Pike” and then “Joe Tucker.” The day never quite warmed up. Lucky it was dry though. We stopped a couple of times just long enough to get some jerky or dried fruit out of the saddle bags. I wanted to take the beeves down nice and slow, so they didn’t loose weight. Mike had forgotten his dip, so we shared my Skoal wintergreen. Herding can be a bit boring, but that’s good. We didn’t want the cattle to get away, run, scatter, or any one of the other hundred things that could go wrong. I figured now that the cattle were out of the area which backs up to the national forest, we wouldn’t have to worry so much about rustlers. It was a pretty big load off my mind actually.
As the day went on, I was enjoying watching Mike ride. As I said before, he’s real easy on the eyes, and he has a fluid grace when he moves. It didn’t surprise me that he knew so little about gay culture, gay history, or anything gay. I guess he just had it rough trying to survive after gettin’ kicked out by his religious fanatic asshole father. I’d decided that I’d ask him to go with me to the gay rodeo in Phoenix. I figured the way we had roped together a few days ago, we had a pretty good chance at a couple of team roping buckles. It would be fun, and it would be a good way to introduce him to gay culture. Although there are a lot of drag queens at the rodeo, doing lip sync shows, the money they get they give to charity. I’d always had a riot at the rodeos. I’ve never been promiscuous at all, but when I was single, I did seem to hook up with someone every rodeo. They were a lot of fun.
You’d check into the host hotel on Friday night. Then you registered as a contestant. After that it was time to get all duded up and head out to dinner. After dinner you’d head out to the gay honky-tonk in Phoenix, Charlie’s. Charlie’s has to be one of the most fun bars in existence. No attitude, just cowboys and cowgirls having fun. The music was good, the beer was cheap, and there were a lot of hunky cowboys to dance with. I figure though, now that Mike knows how to dance, he’d be the hunky cowboy I wanted to have in my arms while I waltzed him round the dance floor. Anyway, the bars in Arizona close at one, so you’d head back to the hotel after that. If you were lucky, you had someone with you, so you’d get just about three or maybe four hours of sleep before having to get up and head over to the rodeo grounds. You’d be there bucking and roping until about seven or even later. There was just enough time to grab some fast food, and then get all duded up again and head back to Charlie’s. Then you’d repeat the whole thing over. By Monday morning, I was always exhausted. One thing I was thinking about is there are always a lot of souvenir and Western goods sales at the rodeo grounds, too, so maybe if I did do this dude ranch thing, it would be a good place to hand out brochures to the gay crowd. It might be a place to sell some sculptures too. I’d talk with Mike about it.
I was hoping the weather would hold through the week and let us get through the roundup without wrangling in the mud. Wet clothes I can handle, but when you’re covered in cold mud and know you’re out for a few days, it’s not a lot of fun.
We finally got the cattle to where we needed them to be for the night. There was water and good grass here, so there was very little chance they’d wander. Mike and I rode around the herd, singing and just making reassuring sounds. I hoped that the rest of the roundup went this smooth. Of course there was no reason to think it might not, but I’d feel safer once we got the steers sold off.
For the first time since he left, I thought about Robert. In hindsight, I wondered why I thought the two of us might work. We had some good times, and he could be witty, funny, and was pretty smart. I was thinking of sending him an e-mail telling him about the dude ranch thing, and he could have a free room there. I realized I was thinking quite a bit about this dude ranch setup. Sandy had done some research and e-mailed me information on just what dude ranches charge, what they offer, and a whole lot of other stuff. She figured I could use the spare bedrooms to house the dudes until I’d pulled enough money in to build some cabins. I had asked her where would she stay then if she was the cook and cruise director so to speak. She floored me by saying, “In the bunkhouse.” I told her I really didn’t want to explain that one to her dad, but she said, “Everyone’s got their own room. Just put a women’s bathroom in there, and you’ll be all set.” There were two bathrooms, so that would be fairly easy. I had a feeling Mike might be moving into my bedroom before we got this dude ranch thing going, so there would be more room in the bunkhouse. I wanted to talk with Wayne too. I respected his opinion, and wanted to keep the ranch a working ranch. So we’d see what happened there. Finally, the cattle started to quiet down for the night. I rode over to Mike and pulled Charlie upside of him.
“You ready to head back to the cabin?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty tired.”
“That makes two of us. Let’s get a move on.” We trotted back to the cabin. It was about eight when we got there. He took care of the horses, and I made some boxed macaroni and cheese and opened a can of spam and cut that into it. Not gourmet food, but it sure as hell tasted good. We’d shucked our shirts, jeans, and boots as soon as we got into the cabin. The fire was going, and even though it was cold outside, it was cozy in. We cuddled up on the bunk together after eating and cleaning up.
“You know, Jeff, it will be great to be back in your bed tomorrow night.” I looked at him trying hard to hide a smile. “Umm… I mean if you want me there; if I was pushy or somethin’, I didn’t mean it.” I had to laugh.
“Buddy, you got a standin’ invitation in my bed. If for some reason I don’t want you there or you don’t wanna be there, we just gotta speak up. Can’t see what those reasons might be, unless one of us is sick though.” He looked really relieved.
“Good. I’m sorry if I seem so jumpy about it all. Datin’ anyone or havin’ a boyfriend or whatever is real new to me.” I pulled him close and gave him a kiss.
“Don’t worry about it, you’re doin’ fine. I did want to ask you though, what do ya think about this dude ranch stuff?”
“I dunno, Jeffy; I’m just a waddie, a hand.”
“Well, you’re my waddie, so that makes your opinion mighty important to me. Mike, seriously, you are one sharp guy. You’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for. That’s another reason I value what ya got to say.” He was quiet for a few minutes and then spoke up.
“You’re not usin’ all those bedrooms in the house. And look at all the fun the folks had over on Saturday. Hell, we had fun too. You got a way with people, Jeffy; they just kinda naturally like you. You’d make a great host.”
“And just what would you be doin’?”
“I’ll be your right-hand man. I’ll do the stuff that needs to get done, that you can’t do. And Sandy said she’d be the cook and cleaner.”
“I ain’t gonna put all that on Sandy. Both of us would have to help.”
“No problem by me.”
“So what if we get folks like Robert? They like the idea of a ranch, but when they get here, it’s not their cup of tea.”
“There’s enough to do in the valley here to keep folks entertained. And they really don’t have to do nothin’. They’ll be on vacation; lot of ’em might just wanna sit and read or watch movies or relax.”
“I reckon so. Maybe we could do a weekly little rodeo type thing in the summer and fall. I suppose we could guide pack and huntin’ and fishin’ trips.”
“Honestly, Jeffy, I think it’s a great idea. You’re good with the numbers; why don’t you run some. Do you wanna keep the ranch a workin’ ranch?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you’ll need to hire a couple more hands. If I’m workin’ with you doin’ dude herdin’, I ain’t gonna be able to cowboy a lot. You gonna have it gay, straight, mixed?”
“I’d like it mixed. It seems to me, when people mix and see each other as people rather than walking stereotypes, they get along a lot better.”
“Maybe you should try and get a gay hand then. One who can work with gay dudes.”
“What about a lesbian hand?” I asked that mostly in fun, but Mike’s answer surprised me.
“You said there was a lotta gay women in the gay rodeos, why not, when we get to that point. Hell, you may wanna hire her first, since we got two gay cowboys already.”
“See, buddy, that’s why I value your opinion; I can bounce stuff off’n you like this, and you have some good thoughts about it. I got a lady rodeo buddy who cowboys; she’d be perfect. I’m really close to her and her partner.” We were sitting on the lower bunk, right next to and touching each other. I had my knees drawn up, and Mike’s hand was on my knee. He leaned in and rested his head on my shoulder.
“Thanks. If you really want my opinion, I reckon you ought to go for it. I think you’d do a great job at it, and I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”
“I reckon the next thing then is to see how much it’ll cost, how much to charge, and to start to look at how much it would cost to build some cabins and furnish ’em.” He turned his head and kissed my ear.
“It’ll turn out just fine.” I changed the subject on him, but my thinkin’ about the rodeo today really made me want to share that with him.
“Hey, buddy, you ever think maybe we should compete together in team ropin’? I can just see those buckles with our names on ’em.”
“Sure, which rodeos though, here in Winslett and Okanogan County?”
“I was thinkin’ of the gay rodeo in Phoenix, and maybe some of the others around the country.” He hesitated a bit. “Nickel for your thoughts.”
“I’m just so used to hidin’ who I am, you caught me up short, that’s all. So we’d go together, and compete together?”