The Pride of Howard County

by Kevin Bachman

  Chapter 18

  One Sunday morning Gus had been working on his quarterly tax reports when he realized he would need to get the receipts for any purchases John had made. Gus walked across the road, noticing a car in the drive he’d never seen before. Gus chuckled to himself thinking, that rascal. He quietly knocked on the door; waited a while, knocked again before turning the knob and stepped inside. Walking down the hall he wondered if he should be doing this and yet had to admit he was curious about just what he might find. John and he had not talked much about romances if any at all. The bedroom door was already slightly opened and when Gus knocked on the door it opened some more. Gus couldn’t believe what he was seeing. There in the bed was his farmhand and with him another man. They were entwined in each other’s arms and both of them were nude. Gus stumbled backwards nearly losing his footing. The two lovers were both awakened by the commotion. Gus quickly made his way out of the house, his mind whirling.

  John and Terry got out of bed and silently dressed, Terry felt the best thing to do was say nothing. This kind of thing was all too familiar to both men. They both were well acquainted with others who might not understand or approve of their way of life and it seemed as if it was always the hardest for those closest to them to accept. John knew he should have already told Gus and hated these feelings of being a coward. He just couldn’t take the chance of losing someone who meant so much to him. And now it didn’t matter, everything was out there in the open for better or worse.

  The skies of Howard County were dark and ominous. Storm after storm had dumped buckets of torrential rain.

  Terry felt like the best thing he could do at that point was just leave and let John handle this his way. He told John to call him if there was anything he could do and dashed through the rain to his car. John paced around the house for a while trying to decide whether he should wait a while or go talk to Gus right away. He decided it best to wait a while, let the raw emotions settle before confronting his boss with this latest development.

  John called George; he started the conversation with some small talk but George knew a phone call from John on a Sunday morning was not usual and cut to the chase.

  “What’s wrong?” George asked.

  John thought briefly to himself, “Am I that transparent?” but didn’t dwell on it as he then proceeded to tell the story of what had just happened. His old sponsor, hundreds of miles away said all the right things. “John, let’s play this out, what’s the worst that could happen?”

  “Well, I could lose my job, my house and one of the best friends I’ve ever had, that’s all!” John told him.

  After a few seconds of silence, John apologized for the tone of his voice. George didn’t even respond to John’s apology, their friendship was beyond that. George continued, “This is something that was long overdue and bound to surface at some point.” John knew he was right. John knew what he was feeling was guilt for being anything but less than honest with Gus.

  The suspense was almost more than he could take; his mind was doing its usual worst case scenario thinking. But having George in his ear was just the relief he needed and was grateful for George being in his life. John thought of their introduction on the sidewalk outside the Methodist church all those years ago.

  Before hanging up the phone George said, “I love ya man.” John felt childish that he didn’t have the courage to tell George he loved him and decided the next time they spoke he would. But that simple act from George gave John the strength to do what he knew he had to do.

  At one minute after twelve John made that long walk across the gravel road, his feet felt like they were in blocks of concrete. Lucky greeted him but Muncie wasn’t around; John figured he was under the porch sleeping. He found Gus in his office; he walked into the room and was met with pure ice.

  “Gus I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you sooner, I really did but…” John’s words fell on deaf ears as the old farmer sat at his desk staring at some invoices. There was a dreadful, familiar silence.

  It was a difficult moment but John steadied himself. He would not apologize anymore. He didn’t like seeing his friend this way but it was in that moment the fearful voice of a young boy was silenced for the last time.

  This time, this pain belonged to Gus, John would not own it. Either Gus would accept things as they were or he wouldn’t but it was not John’s decision to make. He turned away and left Gus as he had found him.

  When he got home John dialed Terry’s number and he answered almost immediately. Terry was relieved and happy to hear from him.

  The old man laid down his pen and listened to the sound of John’s car as it pulled out of the drive and faded down the gravel road. Gus felt betrayed; almost as if he’d been lied to but mostly he just didn’t know how to feel about all this. He wasn’t sure if he wanted John to come back or stay away. He found Lucky on the porch and she let him scratch her ears if it would help. Muncie slept through the whole thing under the porch.

  The next day was a beautiful Missouri Monday morning without a cloud in the sky and not a hint that it had been raining for the last several days except for the wet earth and a few puddles lying around. John checked the rain gauge, finding five and a half inches. He’d gone across the road as always and it had been disappointing to find that Gus had already eaten breakfast without him. John told him of the five and half inches but his boss didn’t respond. When he asked what he wanted him to do today, Gus coldly replied, “Do what you want to do,” then walked past him and out the door leaving John standing in the kitchen. John knew it wasn’t Gus’s fault; his generation just wasn’t equipped to deal with such things as this. He was only responding as he could and yet it hurt to feel their relationship crumbling.

  There just for a second or two John hated being gay. It had seemed to cause him so much trouble. And yet, John knew that these emotions would pass, he was familiar with them and had made peace with them. There had been a time when moments like these would have caused him great anguish and cast him into deep depression. But today John held his head high and said a little prayer for his friend. He’d found himself pondering deep thoughts such as was this a test of some kind or a challenge but finally decided there was no rhyme or reason for any of this, it was just life.

  The young farmer left the kitchen and sat on the top step of the porch and found the sun concentrating its beams onto his face and was grateful for its support. It was going to be another hot day and the humidity was very high. A red tailed hawk was soaring on the air currents, probably drying herself out after all the rain. John couldn’t help but to wonder if this was the end of his time here on the farm. He’d known people that had lost jobs because of their sexuality but never thought it would happen to him. It would have been practically unheard of in New York and here on the farm he’d been isolated from all the world’s societal issues and yet even here the real world was knocking on the door. He thought of George and what he would say right now, but couldn’t help but wonder if this whole thing was a bust. Muncie came out from under the porch, stretched a little and climbed the steps. He took his position under John’s right arm. Together they sat in the sun, two buddies against the world.

  John made a point of trying to practice the principal of gratitude. He knew he could go somewhere, practically anywhere and get a job. He knew being a contributing, productive member of society was important and yet he’d learned what’s really important for him to be happy was being a part of something much bigger than himself by helping others.

  On Gus Rogers’s farm John felt as if he were a small part of something far bigger than he. The raising of crops and cattle and his attachment to the land had made him feel like he had put his priorities into perspective.

  The chickens came around the side of the house followed by the rooster. Muncie and John watched them as they pecked at the ground.

  John had felt the sting of abandonment before. The emotional unavailability of his father was a form of abandonment. Some of society’s
leadership positions in organized religion and nearly an entire political party’s views of gay people was yet another form of abandonment. And yet, it was always those in the inner circle that hurt the most.

  That evening when Gus came in from the fields John was waiting for him on the porch. They exchanged a polite, “Hello” followed by a few seconds of screaming silence. Gus looked down at the porch turned and walked into the house. The screen door slammed with a bang that sounded like a gun shot. John had to remind himself crying was not an option anymore, he thought of his brother and how brave he always was, John told himself, he’d just have to man up.

  John called George that night and they talked a good long while. Near the end of their conversation John found himself laughing along with George as they talked and joked about the good ole days when life was simple. George then reminded John these were the good ole days and John jokingly told him he was supposed to be cheering him up. Before he hung up the phone he made sure to say, “I love ya, man” and realized it didn’t hurt one little bit.

  John went over to Gus’s at first light figuring that was his job. He’d decided if Gus wanted to fire him it wouldn’t be because he wasn’t doing his job. He’d decided that he would be all business and try to give Gus some space. Perhaps some time would smooth things over and they could get past this and be a team again. Gus hadn’t waited on John for breakfast and that was disappointing to the young farmer but he tried to act as if it were no big deal. There was no small talk, just an awkward smothered conversation of the more pressing issues on the farm. And then they parted suddenly without the usual second cup of coffee.

  John was actually relieved that they had at least spoken even if it had been torturous. Any form of progress gave him hope. As John went about his duties on the farm that day he couldn’t help but to think of his father. In spite off the fact they loved one another John’s life had driven a wedge of brokenness between them nothing in this world could have repaired. John knew if Gus had lost his respect for him it was all over. But he knew this wasn’t something he could do anything about. This wasn’t something he could repair.

  That evening when the two men collided on the porch there was only the painful silence. Again, neither man knew what to say. It was as if something dreadful had happened between them.

  Of course Gus had given this much thought over the last couple of days. The only thing he knew for sure was he didn’t know how to feel or how to respond to this whole affair. One minute he wanted to punch John in the nose and the next he just wanted to forget about the whole damn thing. It was definitely uncharted waters.

  After a couple of minutes on the porch they mutually decide to call it a day. There would be no iced tea or small talk. There wasn’t the warmth of a friendship as the sun set that evening, only another wave of late afternoon storms blowing in.

  John and Gus lay in their beds that night listening to the thunder and pounding rain. It was late into the night before either was able to drift off to sleep.

  It had rained nearly another two inches over night but the morning was bright and glorious.

  John was absolutely delighted when he showed up over at Gus’s and discovered his friend had waited on him for breakfast. It was strained, but bacon and eggs never smelled so good.

  After a few brief comments on the agenda of the day Gus went to the barn and started up the tractor. He hooked up the mower and pulled out of the driveway with Lucky and Muncie running alongside. John watched them get smaller and smaller until they were out of sight. There was only one pasture that would be mowable after all this rain. It was a small piece of land and sat on a hill top so it drained well. The fescue grass was lush and thick.

  There were two things that bothered John about this, first of all, he was the one who normally did the mowing and secondly, If Gus was to mow that pasture he’d have to cross the Piney to get there.

  The Piney River was normally a small river; during hot and dry spells it can get so low it practically stops flowing. The catfish, perch and gar that usually swam freely would have to pool up in the deeper holes to survive. But with heavy rain the Piney can become a raging torrent of water.

  Gus pulled the tractor up to the river crossing he had built years ago. It was a concrete dam-like structure he had poured when the Piney was low. Of course the river was now flowing over the bridge. The question was how deep was the current? The next decision Gus made was probably the worst decision he’d ever made.

  John had let the chickens out and was scooping out the coop while lost in his thoughts of the last couple of days when out of the pale a familiar sound came to him. It was the tiniest little whiff at first almost unnoticeable, just a hint of a dog barking way off in the distance. John’s ears tuned in to the barking dog and listened for a few seconds when it hit him, that was Lucky and she was barking wildly. He knew Lucky well enough to know she didn’t bark like that unless there was something wrong.

  Gus had pulled the tractor down to the edge of the Piney. Had he not been thinking of John and doubting his reaction and how he’d handled the situation he probably wouldn’t have risked the crossing. Although he couldn’t help feeling disappointed, he knew on some level that John’s sexuality should not be an issue in their relationship. He had known others over the years that rumor had it were homosexual and that had no real effect on how he thought of them.

  He was about half way across the Piney when he realized he’d made a terrible mistake. It was when the water began rushing over the tops of the tires on the front of the tractor he knew he was in trouble. In an instant the front of the tractor swung around in the current and Gus lost his steering. He jammed on both brakes and threw the transmission into reverse trying to get the tractor back to the bank where he’d started. The black smoke gushed from the stacks of the big diesel motor and for a few seconds he thought he was going to make it. But the current of the flooded Piney began to win when it floated the big rear tires from the submerged concrete bridge. Suddenly Gus and the John Deere poured into the current like a big green toy.

  Lucky’s instincts were telling her something was wrong as she ran along the banks of the river barking.

  Gus was at the mercy of the river and had no choice but to ride it out. He was hoping to stay upright until he came upon a gravel bar or a snag. There was no time for fear; it was all happening too fast. Suddenly and slowly the tractor began rolling over onto her side in the middle of the river, she scrapped along on the gravel bottom until hitting a large submerged rock and rolled over. The cab of the tractor was filling with the black water. Practically upside down with the door of the tractor lodged against the bottom of the river there was no way for it’s passenger to open the door. Now nearly completely submerged in the deadly flood waters, Gus knew he would have to get out of this situation or it would be his watery grave.

  John had run for the truck and was gunning down the gravel road, he had seen a blast of diesel smoke and then the skies cleared. At one point he pulled to a stop, cut the motor and listened for the sound of Lucky’s barking and sure enough it sounded as if it was coming from the direction of the crossing in the Piney and John’s earlier fears were now a terrifying reality.

  The cab was now three quarters filled, Gus realized he was going to have to break the glass of the cab or die. There was a tool box he had mounted to the floor of the tractor next to the seat but now it was above his head. When he opened the toolbox the tools spilled out into the cab and sank to what was now the floor. Taking a deep breath he went searching in the dark water for something that would break the glass. After the third try he’d came up with a hammer and a large screwdriver. He placed the screwdriver against the glass and pounded it with the hammer several times. The glass broke but didn’t shatter as it was tempered but with several more whacks with the hammer the glass was compromised enough that with a few kicks the glass gave way enough for Gus to crawl out into the raging river.

  Gus bobbed to the surface but instantly he was going downstrea
m like just another piece of driftwood in the flooded Piney.

  John had pulled the truck up to the crossing but was disappointed when he didn’t see a tractor. He looked downstream and spotted something sticking out of the rapids. To his horror he realized it was a tractor tire. As he ran down the bank of the river something spilled out of the river just downstream of the tire. Lucky was still barking and even Muncie was now barking. John focused on the object now floating along in the current and realized it was Gus.

  It was everything Gus could do to keep his head above the churning water. Over and over again he sank below the surface, emerging back to the surface just long enough to gulp air before the river would drag him under again. Then everything went black when Gus’s head smashed into an overhanging tree that was now submerged in the rapids. He was knocked out cold, floating like a dead man.

  John found the river bank too difficult and too slow to navigate, Gus was moving faster in the current than he could run down the bank. There was only one thing he could do and dove into the raging Piney. The current swept him downstream and yet he was able to make his way in the direction he’d last seen Gus. He was beginning to panic when luck or God’s grace would have it he spotted his target. Gus’s limp body had been swept onto a log jam a few yards away. When John got to him his first thoughts were he was too late. Blood was streaking down his face and John couldn’t tell if he was breathing. He knew the first thing he would have to do is get them out of this rising water and that would not be easy. His body wanted to rest for a minute but there was no time for that. He wrapped his arm around Gus and plunged back into the waters of the Piney with his friend’s life literally in his hands.

  John was a strong swimmer and although he seemed to be making progress the going was slow. The two men were swept downstream and the water was beginning to take its toll on John but he knew that giving up wasn’t an option. The river had carried them seventy yards and John’s muscles were burning; he had not taken a breath when the muddy water didn’t try to invade his lungs. He could feel this battle slipping away but to give up now would mean certain death at least for Gus and he himself would die before he’d abandon Gus. They were now going further and further under the rolling waves and getting back to the surface was now a matter of just hanging onto life.

  And when John felt as if he had one last stroke and one last breath his free hand reached out for what might have been one last time and grasp onto something soft and wonderful, John’s free hand clutched onto the fur of Muncie.

  For hundred of years Muncie’s relatives had been bred and born to do one thing, swim. The Labrador retriever’s instincts told him that now was his time to do what he did best. The Piney was no match for the muscles and the will of this young and powerful dog. His webbed paws dug into the water; with each stroke they were closer to shore. With each stroke, Muncie’s surge practically raised him up out of the water pulling his valuable cargo towards the safety of shore. His wide nostrils flared open, sucking in air taking oxygen to his lungs in an oversized chest cavity. His otter like tail propelled them forward; his coat shed the waters of the flooded Piney. Muncie was a swimming machine, he was panicked, adrenaline was pumping through his veins and there was just no stopping him from saving the man that had saved him.

  John felt the gravel under his feet and pulled Gus onto the bank of the river. There was no time for resting; the old farmer was unconscious and not breathing. He dragged him up the river bank away from the rising water. John didn’t really know how to perform CPR but had seen enough television shows to do the best he could. He blew his breath into Gus’s lungs waiting a few seconds in between breaths. Gus was not responding as John turned him onto his side and pounded on his back; it was alarming to see the amount of river water that flowed from his mouth. Back and forth he did this for what seemed like an eternity until Gus finally began to sputter. A few more sputters and finally the old man began coughing out water. And still there was no time for rest.

  John hoisted Gus from the ground onto his shoulders and began to make his way to the truck. The going was rough along the river bank with its overgrown vegetation, tree roots and mud. Several times he had to put him down and let the strength back into his aching body. Finally he reached the truck, laying Gus down; he got on his cell phone and dialed 911. For twenty agonizing minutes he held Gus in his arms until a life flight helicopter out of Columbia came into view. John was on the phone with them, directing the chopper to their location. They landed in a nearby pasture and quickly had the farmer onboard. Gus had never regained consciencenous.

  And then after what seemed like forever, it was all over. John, Lucky and Muncie stood in a pasture near the raging Piney River and watched the life flight helicopter sail away. It became quiet; very quiet just the sound of the wind, panting dogs, and the almost tranquil sound of the Piney as it rushed along through Howard County.