Booger Red & Cowboy
Waddie Greywolf
 
Chapter 4
 
 
They gave me two purple hearts before I left the service. I sent them home to my dad; one for him and one for Uncle Joe. I knew they'd mean a lot to them. I was officially discharged to reserve status two days before I left Hawaii. I flew into LAX and on to San Antonio. Dad and Uncle Joe met me at the airport. I was still in a wheel chair. I was getting stronger and able to get up and around, but I would lose strength quickly and have to get back in the wheel chair for a while. I cried in my dad's arms and Uncle Joe broke down when he saw me in the wheel chair.
 
"Billy, oh God, Billy, you're home! Thank God, my boy's home. You're safe now, Son. I love you so Goddamn much, Billy. I should a' never let you go," Dad cried.
 
"Dad..." I couldn't get anymore out. I couldn't talk for crying. I couldn't stop. They wheeled me back to the car and helped me in. I was so glad to see my old man, but I hurt so bad inside I couldn't even tell him I loved him. I forgot how much he meant to me and the silent strength he gave to me all these years until that moment. He was my everything; the center of my universe. I felt safe in his big cowboy arms. It was the first time I'd felt safe since I left for Nam two years ago. Aunt Ethel passed away my first year in Nam and my Uncle Bud died the night before I was shot. I didn't know what to think or do. I didn't want to go anywhere or see anyone. I slept most of the way back to Mason. I was coming home to a town I no longer knew. We passed through our little town and there was a huge banner across Main Street, "Welcome Home Cowboy"
 
I broke down and cried again. I didn't want any fanfare. Uncle Joe helped me into the wheel chair and they helped me to the steps to the front porch. I tried to manage the stairs with their help but almost passed out. Dad swept me up in his big arms and carried me the rest of the way as Uncle Joe brought the wheel chair. Lester, my sweet Lester, was there with a sad, worried face. He hugged and kissed me, welcoming me home. It was so good to see his old black weathered face. I broke down as he held me and sobbed with me like his old heart was broken. I did my best to comfort the poor old dear. God I loved that man with all my heart and soul. He always was my greatest champion, my biggest fan. In his eyes, B.G. three, could do no wrong. "Oh, Billy! Oh, Billy! I's so glad you's home. God done answered my prayers, Child." The old man couldn't speak anymore and broke down in my arms. I kissed him on the cheek and thanked him. Dad wheeled me into the house and headed for the living room.
 
"Son, we have a house guest for several days who wanted to be here when you came home. He's waiting for you in the living room." We turned into the living room and a big cowboy stood up with his hat in his hand with tears in his eyes. It was Buck's dad, Dan Yates. He drove all the way from Tucson to be there when I got home. I lifted myself up out of the chair, threw my arms around him and he held me as I once more cried my heart out. He cried with me, held me close and wouldn't let me go until I got it out.
 
"Oh, God, Mr. Yates, I failed you. I'm so sorry. Buck was a hero, Mr. Yates. He saved my life. I loved him so much, sir. His last words to me were to tell you he loved you. He and our other two brothers fell on top of me to protect me. I couldn't move. Oh, God, I'm sorry, Mr. Yates."
 
"There, there, Son, you did what you could, I know you. I wanted to be here so you wouldn't have to come to me. I wanted you to know I love you for being Buck's friend and brought you copies of his letters telling me what a great man he thought you were. He also loved your other two buddies, Ken and Rowley. He spoke of them often with the greatest love."
 
"I'm so glad you're here, Mr. Yates. You don't know how much it means to me. He didn't suffer, Mr. Yates. I was looking into his eyes when he took it directly through his big heart. He fell on top of me and kissed me goodbye. He knew he wasn't gonna' make it, but he threw himself on top of me to protect me. He was a hero, Mr. Yates. He was my savoir."
 
"They sent him home and we buried him in our family plot, Son. I'm doing better. Seeing you helps a lot. I love you, Billy, and I'm so glad you made it back. I just wanted you to know."
 
"When I get better, I'd like to come to Tucson. Would you take me to see him?" I asked.
 
"You know it, Billy, you're welcome anytime," he replied. Dan Yates stayed the rest of the week with us. I slipped a couple of times and called him Dad Yates. He would smile and get a tear in his eye.
 
"May I call you that, Mr. Yates?" I asked.
 
"Be proud for you to, Son," he replied. I began to introduce him as one of my dads, Dan Yates, my brother Buck's dad. In a small town everyone knows immediately what you're talking about. They never questioned. It was healing for Dan to hear me call him 'dad.' I came to love and admire him that week. As I spent time with him I saw the better parts of my beloved brother in him and wept at night by myself. It was little mannerisms his son copied that became a part of his personality as well as his dad's. The way he put his hat on and squared it away. The way he looked into my eyes, I would see Buck looking back at me and break into tears. The way he swaggered when he walked in his cowboy boots. Buck walked that way and to see his dad walk exactly the same way kept a lump in my throat. Yet, somehow, he was comforting. It was like I had a little of Buck with me for a while to ease me over the pain.
 
The town threw a big welcome home party for me in the park across from the rodeo grounds the weekend I got home. I tried to be up for everyone, but my heart wasn't in it. Dan watched over me and stayed close. I thanked him many times for being there and told him how much his presence meant to me. At times I felt Buck was sitting next to me. I wouldn't turn my head to see because I wanted to have the continued feeling my love was sitting there. I know Dan understood when he watched a tear run down my cheek, and I couldn't look at him. He'd gently put his big arm around me and pull me closer to him.
 
Aunt Laura talked to me at the picnic. She had some of Uncle Bud's things she wanted to give me. Aunt Laura didn't have the heart to pack his things and dispose of them. That's hard for anyone left behind. She ask when I felt better if I'd help her. I said I would. I didn't know if I was going to be able, but I'd make an effort. She had a bank pass book for money she and Uncle Bud wanted me to have.
 
"You also have a letter from Uncle Bud for me, right?" I asked.
 
"Yes, Billy. I was going to tell you about it next. How did you know? I never told a soul. I wanted it to be a surprise. I was going to have you over for dinner as soon as you feel up to it and give it to you then."     
 
"That'll be fine, Aunt Laura, I'd love to come for dinner. How did I know? Uncle Bud told me when he come to take my buddies, the cowboys, away. He came to show them the way; he told me I wasn't dead and had to come back and live. God still had things for me to do. There were several people who would need me. He died the night before. I knew before you wrote me. He told the corpsman who found me and saved my life. He told me to be sure and ask you for a letter he wrote to me and left with you."
 
"I believe you, Billy. If he could've saved you he would. He loved you so much and so do I. When your dad told him he was your biological father he was thrilled. However, he never wanted to replace your dad, he only wanted to be your Uncle Bud. I was thrilled, too, for all of us. I knew how close the two of you became over the years. He thought of you as his son before he ever knew. So did I, Billy. You were always so good to me, and I love you like you were my own son. Of course I shared that feeling with Ethel. You were the most important thing to her. She loved you so much.
 
"I loved your Uncle Bud with a passion few women experience. He loved me too and proved his love to me over and over. He didn't leave me when we found out I was barren. Some men would have. He wanted a son so bad. I wanted desperately to have his child, but I couldn't. Bud never made me feel guilty. His love sustained me through all these years. He was a good man and I miss him terribly," Aunt Laura said. She had tears in her eyes, and I took her in my arms. I held her until she recovered. Then I told her the story of Jim Redfeather and how he saved me. She thought it was miraculous.
 
* * * * * * *
 The afternoon before he left to return to Tucson, Dan and I got a couple of shakes from the Dairy Queen and drove to the park to sit and talk. It was a beautiful warm day in early January. It was a day we would refer to as Indian summer. It would be an exceptionally warm day in the middle of winter. Dan and I became comfortable with each other. "Billy? Would you answer a question for me?" he asked quietly.
 
"Sure, Dad, anything," I replied.
 
"Well, it's kind a' hard for me to ask because it involves a part of Buck I don't think he wanted me to know about. He could have told me anything, and I would've still loved him. He was my life. He's all I lived for," Dan said.
 
"Then, do you really want to know, Dad?" I asked. I knew what he was getting at, and I tried to think what Buck would want me to tell him. Buck told me if he and I went on the circuit he was going to tell his dad about us. He wanted his dad to know how happy he was and in turn, how happy we were. He wanted his dad to be happy for us.
 
"Yes, Son, I want to know. That's why I copied his letters and brought them for you to read. I know you ain't read none of 'em yet, but someday you will. It's good you wait for a while. They'll rip your heart out. You have no idea how much Buck thought of you. He was trying to tell me something but couldn't come to the point. I ain't so naive I can't read between the lines, Billy. Buck wrote how much he loved you and how happy the two of you were with each other. He admired you – no, Billy, he worshiped you. I'm not at all surprised Buck saved your life. You meant more to him than his own life, and Billy, I ain't sorry he saved you, neither. I've grown to love you through Buck, being around you the year we were rodeoing, and visiting with you this week. I'm proud my boy saved your life. He done the right thing. I just thank God you made it back and Buck had you for a mate. He couldn't have chosen better, Billy."
 
I was still vulnerable and broke into tears. Dan chose his words well to see if he could get confirmation of his suspicions without embarrassing me. I thought if Buck was going to tell him maybe I should follow my heart and share with him the love Buck and I felt for each other. I wanted to. From what Dan told me he wasn't going to run screaming from the park. He reached across the table and gently put his hand on my arm. I put my hand on his. There was a voice that whispered in my ear, "It's all right, Cowboy, tell him. I done told you to tell him how I wanted to love him. Let him know how much we loved each other. I couldn't, but you can." That's all I needed to open the flood gates.
 
"I loved him so Goddamn much, Dad, it aches in my gut to think about him being gone; to never feel him close to me again; to never again sleep with his arms around me all night; to never take him in my arms again; to never share love with him again; to never lie close to him and inhale the beauty of his body; to never hear his comforting voice again telling me, ‘You can do it, Cowboy!’ In this life I'll never again hear his wonderful laugh that lit up my heart; never hear him read his bible to me anymore; never feel his touch, to know his understanding, his compassion.
 
"I never thought I could love anyone more than my Uncle Bud, but I did. I loved Buck that much and more. We were going to share our lives together. He was going to tell you before we went on the circuit. He wanted you to know how happy he was; how happy we were. He wanted you to be happy for us. We wanted to rodeo until we got older, buy a big ranch and teach young kids rodeoing. We only had three months left to have our dream; three Goddamned, lousy months.
Rowley and Ken were going with us. We loved them and they loved us. The four of us were inseparable. They all three jumped on top of me to protect me.

“I rose up out of my body with Buck, Rowley, and Ken. My Uncle Bud was there, too, and they told me I had to go back, I had things to do yet. I had people to live for who needed me or would need me. It wasn't my time. I kept begging and pleading with Buck and my Uncle Bud to take me with them, but they told me I had to go back, four people would need me; my dad, Booger Red, you, and some giant hairy bear-like man whose a personal friend of the Old Man upstairs I ain't met yet," I spilled my guts to him. Dan looked at me stunned and tears began to form in his eyes.
 
"I begged them to take me with them, Dad. I didn't wanna' come back without Buck. What was I gonna' tell you? My Uncle Bud was dead from a heart attack the night before. He came for them and took them away. Buck's last words to me before he left were, "Billy, tell my dad I love him. Also tell him how I wanted to love him."
 
Dan Yates bit his lower lip and drew blood to keep from breaking down. He knew I was telling him the truth. He needed to hear it. I went on to tell him about my Uncle Bud going to a corpsman, Jim Readfeather, in his sleep. How we knew Jim, and Jim calling out my name across the battlefield. My uncle's spirit told Jim he was my real father and he and I didn't know until just before I left for Nam. I ask Dan, how Jim could have known unless it was true, unless my uncle did, indeed, come to him in a dream? How would he know to call out my name over and over until he found me? Uncle Bud and my brothers saved my life. I lay my head on Dan's arm and sat weeping uncontrollably. He said nothing for a long while, but gently placed his big hand on the back of my head and let me get it out.
 
"Thanks for telling me, Billy," Dan responded in a choked whisper, "I only wanted to know Buck loved someone and was happy when he died. I don't gave a tinker's damn whether it was a man or a woman. Love's love. As long as my boy was happy and knew love before he died, that's all I care about. I don't know why it's important for me to find this out about Buck, but it is – it's important. Maybe it's 'cause I sensed in Buck a deep need to find a great love in his life. I know he loved me and maybe more than I'm aware of; a dad can tell about his kid. I knew Buck had a passion to love someone with all his heart. I'm so grateful to you for sharing love with my boy, Billy. It's important to me, you have to know that.
 
"I knew from his letters, the way he wrote about his love for you, he felt more for you than a buddy. I knew before I came here about you and Buck's relationship. I always suspected since he was a kid. He used to come back to the motor-coach when we were on the circuit with a wet spot at his crotch, and I knew he'd been watching you and your uncle practice in the arena. He never came right out and said it, but I could tell he admired you both. He commented once you guys were what rodeo was all about. Your pictures should be in the dictionary under rodeo cowboys." I broke down again and told Dan I thought the exact same thing about them; even used the term.
 
"Buck asked me if I thought there was a chance you and your dad were lovers. At the time, we thought you were father and son. We never knew no different. As it turns out you were his son. Hell, you looked enough alike to be twins. I told Buck I didn't know, but if you were, there was nothing wrong with it. I told him, 'Love is love, Buck, no matter what form it takes. As long as two people share love what's beneficial to both, God's happy.'
 
I knew we weren't gonna' beat you in Ft. Worth because the bond between you and your uncle was too powerful. You didn't function as a team. Hell, you were one. Everyone remarked the two of you must read each other's minds. I never saw anything like it. You were like a well oiled, precision machine. By the time we went up against you in Denver, I knew you and your uncle would be our toughest competition. Buck was as happy for the two of you as he would've been if we'd a' won. When you caught the hinders of your steer we knew, without a doubt, you'd won. Buck yelled at the top of his voice, YES!  Almost like he was saying 'And by God you did it, Cowboy!' rooting for you and your uncle. He jumped up and down and hugged me and said, 'Number two ain't so bad, Dad. Ain't bad a' tall.' I think I was more disappointed than him, but then, I had to agree with him, number two weren't bad, 'cause we went up against the best.
 
"When I let my housekeeper, Mrs. Russell, read several of the letters telling me how much he cared for you. She broke down same's I did while reading them, then shared with me Buck came out to her when he was in high school. She confirmed for me what he was trying to tell me; the two of you bonded and were very much in love. He was afraid to tell me, and in a way, it breaks my heart he didn't trust me enough. I wouldn't have cared. I don't care. It's not going to stop me from loving my boy or you Billy. I didn't tell you I knew because I didn't know how you'd take it being so filled with pain right now. I thought if I hinted around you'd tell me if you wanted me to know and then I'd share these things with you. If not then I was sure after reading his letters, you'd reconsider.
 
"They're the greatest love letters I ever read. I sat and cried like a baby through each one I was so happy for him. I could feel his love for you coming through the words and, Billy, it was an incredibly powerful feeling. In a way, I felt like he wanted me to know and appreciate the depth and completeness of your love. I was happy for both of you. I thought about pouring my heart out to him in a letter and telling him if you had more than a strong bonding, brotherly friendship, I would understand and be happy for you. Much to my dismay, I never wrote that letter. I didn't want to embarrass him. I'm sorry I didn't. All those years I suspected I should have taken him aside and told him if he turned out gay it would never change my love for him. He was my life. I raised him by myself with Mrs. Russell's help since he was three years old.
 
"He didn't tell you, Dad, not because he didn't trust you, but because he loved you so much he wouldn't risk the gamble. If there was the slightest chance you might have turned away from him it would’ve killed him. He told me he would've taken a gun and blown his head off. The way he told me, Dad, I believed him. You were his world. He worshiped you. Our relationship gave him strength to want to tell you. He was going to but he wanted my support, to be there for him, to hold his hand when he told you. He was afraid of hurting you, of disappointing you by not turning out the way you might have wanted him to. He couldn't have lived with it unless I was there for him; he wasn't kidding, Dad. Buck would've taken his own life. Don't feel bad, Dad, it hasn't been a picnic for me to pour my heart out about all of this but a minute ago I heard Buck's voice clear as day tell me it was all right and for me to tell you what he couldn't."
 
"Son, you don't invest your life in raising a child then turn away from them, for any reason, simply because they didn't turn out the way you thought they should.  Maybe there are sick, ignorant folks out there too damn dumb and insensitive to see the greater picture of life who would do that to a child, but I shore' wouldn't. The two of you shared a great love and because he chose to share it with you, makes it all the more personal and wonderful for me. Your Uncle Bud and Buck were right, Billy, I do need you. I need to know you're alive and still in the world. I need to know you'll be all right and you're recovering from this pain. I need you to know how much I love you for loving Buck and how damn happy I am you made it home, Son. I'll be honest with you, I hope you'll come visit and spend some time with me. I'd appreciate it if you would, Billy, 'cause I think I need that. I think you need it, too. I'd like to get to know the man my son loved so deeply. Maybe we could even try our hand at roping together if you like," he finished quietly like it was a prayer of his.
 
We held each other and cried together. We held each other for a long while, until the sun went down, and it started getting cool, then we drove home together, father and son.
 
Three weeks later I went to Aunt Laura's for dinner one night. Aunt Laura gave me the letter from Uncle Bud. She told me everyone in town was happy for me and Uncle Bud. Hell, the whole town knew. You can't keep secrets in a small town. Later, several of the town folks told me they guessed for years Uncle Bud was my real father. When she handed me the letter she told me Uncle Bud's instructions were to read it in private. I put it in my pocket 'til I got home. I left soon after dessert and coffee. I hugged and kissed Aunt Laura goodbye, thanked her for dinner and the letter. I drove home as fast as I could, ran to my bedroom, lay across my bed and opened the letter.
 
My dearest Son,
 
I'm writing this in my office. It's a cold, bleak, wintery day but it's warm here in my office. You've been in Nam now a little over eighteen months, and I miss you terribly. The day you, Buck, Rowley, and Ken took off with your dad to drive to the airport in San Antonio, I watched a major part of my heart go down the road with it. That empty portion of my being hasn't been filled since you left and won't be until you return. I've been having some minor health problems and haven't been feeling too well for the past several weeks. I manage to get to work everyday, but I've cut out a lot of the rough stuff I used to do around here. It's probably better for me and the people we run through here anyway.
 
I wanted to write this in case anything happened to me before you got back. I know you'll come back. I was so afraid and prayed every night for God and his angels to watch over you; to let you come home to me and the folks who love you so dearly. One night an angel came to me in a dream to ease my heart and told me you would be hurt, but you would come home safely. I trust him. He also told me to write this letter. So, maybe I won't be here when you get home to welcome you, to hug you, kiss you and tell you how proud I am of you and how much I love you. If that's the case read the last line again and know how much I wanted to be here to do those things.
 
You have great talents, Billy. I've watched you grow and develop into a fine young man. I loved you every step of the way. The year we spent together on the circuit was the greatest year of my life. I haven't been able to stop thanking God and your dad for allowing me to love you. Your Aunt Laura is thrilled for both of us. She loves you as much as I do. The love that passed between us was the most wonderful thing I ever experienced. I love your Aunt Laura as much as you but in a different way.
 
You'll understand as you grow older you don't replace one love with another, you only add to love. A new, unexpected love becomes growth and a beautiful thing but you don't abandon or stop loving the older loves who have sustained you through the years; neither, should you love someone at the expense of another. That's what life's all about, Son. It's not just getting through it. It's loving, sharing, caring, and gathering as much love as we can to take back to God when we die. If God is love, as we've been told, then that's all he cares about, that we learn to love and share love while we're here.
 
Don't matter what form it takes as long as it benefits the people involved, don't hurt nobody else, and is done with the consent of both. Some misguided, religious fanatics might thump their bibles and yell certain forms of love they don't approve of is against God and their religious beliefs. Ignore them, God does. They don't know how to share love beyond their own petty needs of selfish aggrandizement. God will deal with them in his own way, and it won't be pretty.
 
Remember the old saying: 'The devil can turn a verse in the bible for his own use.' Was our love a bad love? What do you think? It was bad only if we think so or allow anyone else to suggest it was. Of course it wasn't bad, and I'd do it again in a minute knowing what we know. I still dream of sharing love with you, but I'm not beyond wishing you all the happiness in the world with Buck. I saw what was going on between you that last week, and it felt good to my heart. I was so pleased you were going over there with someone you fell in love with. It would make it so much easier for you, and what better man for you to fall in love with than Buck Yates. You couldn't have chosen better. His dad and he are both fine men.
 
Rowley and Ken were pretty transparent, too. Your Dad, Joe, Lester, and I laughed our asses off at some of the shit that came out of Ken White's mouth. Funny, funny man but lovable to a fault. That last week we spent together at the lake you were so concerned for Booger and felt you might be betraying his love. You asked me to explain to Booger and I'll try; however, I've known him for years and know when he falls in love it's for keeps. Beneath the gruff, randy, ugly facade beats the heart of a good man with strong convictions about right and wrong. I don't know how successful I'll be, because once upon a time I broke his heart. I made the mistake of loving someone else at his expense. He's never spoken a word to me in anger all these years; however, I'm ashamed and sorry for what I did to him. I have lived to regret it, even today.
 
Take the talent you have for loving, Billy, and build it to become the greatest gift you can take back to God and lay at his feet. "Here, Master, here is the love I have sown, shared, or freely given to others. Here is the harvest of my life I bring before you. Now, I make a gift of it to you." What father wouldn't be proud of a son who brought him such a gift? Never make the mistake of thinking material possessions will bring you happiness or make you more attractive to anyone, including God.

When you leave this life, you can only take the soul God has allowed your body, as a vessel, to hold for a while, and it's the quality of your soul God is most interested in. You have to give it back to him, but in what condition will you give it back? How much better to hand him the gift of your soul with it overflowing with the light and joy of love. It’s that simple, Cowboy.

I'm not worried. We both have a leg up on that from the love we shared. You must go on to build on our love so your soul will become one of the greatest gifts a simple man can give back to his creator. A soul filled with the light and goodness of love and compassion for his fellow man.
 
If I'm not here when you return, I'll probably have moved on. Don't grieve for me too long, Son. Start as soon as you can to remember and build on our love. Don't hide your light under a bushel. You already know what I'm talking about in the way you've learned to love and appreciate your dad. He's a wonderful man, Billy, full of mysteries I never thought him capable of.

Of all the things your dad did in his life, the greatest, most noble, right, and wonderful thing was to have you. Even the way he did it was truly remarkable. I couldn't approve more, and I commend him daily for doing it. To open his heart and share you with me was an example of his greater, unconditional love.
 
I support Gunn in being your dad. I'm even glad you carry his name. I couldn't be prouder. I don't mean any disrespect to my dad, but I've always considered myself a 'Gunn.' Big Gunn is your only dad, Billy, don't forget that. The big cowboy worked for and earned the title and your respect as his son; besides, he needs to be your dad, and you'll understand this later, you need to be his son. No one, not even me, could love you more than that big, kick-ass cowboy who raised you. You're more than the apple of his eye, you're his heart and soul. You became his reason for living. I'm your uncle and your cousin. I never intend to try to replace your dad in your mind.
 
It's sometimes funny how life works out. I prayed to God for years complaining to him because I didn't have a closer relationship with you than being your second cousin and uncle by marriage. I bellyached to him about why you couldn't have been my son? I had this crazy feeling in my gut, I never shared with anybody, you were the son I was meant to have; however, something went wrong and you were born to Gunn instead. God heard my prayer and between him and his saint on Earth, your dad, my prayer was answered. I will forever be grateful to both, and I'll die a content and happy man. The beautiful boy child I loved and watched grow into one of the finest men I've ever known was unwittingly my greatest achievement in life.
 
I'll admit, at first I was a little jealous of Gunn, but I tried hard not to be. He was so damn generous with you and good to me for letting me love you, he made it impossible for me to be jealous. Besides, your dad and I fell in love years ago, and each knows we still have that love within our hearts; however, because of you, your dad and I have fallen back in love after all these years. I see a lot more of Gunn and Joe than I used to. They built a strong love for each other over the years. I thank God they've stopped drinking and fighting. It makes their love all the better for them. I thank God, every night, for your Uncle Joe as well.
 
I'm leaving you our winnings from the rodeo prize money, Cowboy. It's yours, you earned it. (Your Aunt Laura suggested it.) Combined with the monies from your Aunt Ethel's estate should give you a good start in life. I checked with your dad for his blessing and suggestions. He assured me it was all right with him. Remember, Son, above all else, I love you. I cherish the days on this Earth you walked by my side and loved me in return. I've never known a greater love with anyone. You will always be my cowboy, and I will always be your master. I can't end this letter by saying goodbye. It don't end here anyway, Son. So, I'll see you on down the road, Cowboy.  We'll love again, I promise.
 
All my love, Uncle Bud
 
"On down the road, master. Oh, God, Uncle Bud, I loved you so," I whispered. I held his letter to my heart and cried myself to sleep. As I drifted off I had a lucid dream of sitting in a huge pasture with Ben Stafford reading him Uncle Bud's letter. Tears were running down his handsome face. When I finish he breathed deeply and said, "What better words for a father to leave his son? Those words were not thought out or labored over, Billy. They came directly from Bud's heart."
 
Uncle Bud liquidated Aunt Ethel's property and the money she left me was in an account in my name in the bank. Aunt Laura gave me the pass book when I went for dinner. Uncle Bud left me all the winnings from our year rodeoing. He and Aunt Laura wanted me to have it. There was over a quarter of a million in the account. While I wasn't ungrateful, I could have cared less. I didn't care about anything. I had no interest in life. I didn't give a damn about living.
 
* * * * * * *
After Dan left and went back to Tucson, Dad moved into my bedroom and begin to sleep with me. He got tired of running from his room to mine to wake me up or comfort me. I would sit up in the night screaming and couldn't stop. He would hold me and gently speak my name. He would comfort me until I calmed down. Then I would cry myself to sleep in his arms. It was beginning to tell on his and Uncle Joe's relationship.

I knew I had to get away for their sake. I had to heal on my own and wouldn't take my old man down with me. I had come to love him too much for that. I watched him go from a fine looking middle aged man to a white haired older man right before my eyes. I was killing him. His heart was breaking. His son, his child, his boy he nurtured, raised, and loved was hurting deeply, but he couldn't do anything about it.
 
He wasn't the only one suffering for me. Lester turned white haired within weeks after I came home. He didn't want to intrude but the boy he loved and help raise all those years was in pain; however, he felt powerless to help. He even ask if I wanted him to go fishing with me one afternoon. I cried in the old man's arms he loved me enough to once again offer to take his little buddy fishing. Greater love hath no man.
 
I came to see how much my dad loved me. He may not have been my biological father, but no man could have loved me more. I grew to love him as much as Uncle Bud. I didn't give a fuck about biology, or who filled out my genes, the old man grieving his heart out for me was my dad. My subconscious pain knew no bounds, and it was going to come out no matter what I did. I wasn't going to let it destroy my family, the people who I loved most in the world.
 
I called Walker Johnson and asked if I could stay with him and Xander for a while. "Of course you can, Billy. Booger keeps calling. Asking if we've heard anything from you; say's you didn't answer his letters. He's disappointed, Son," Walker said.
 
"I can't see him, Master Walker. I can't tell you why right now. I can't talk about it yet. I hope you understand, sir," I said.
 
"I do, Billy. It don't matter anyway; you getting better is what matters to us. Come on up, we'll be happy to have you," he said.
 
"I'm a mess, sir. I ain't the boy you once knew. I'm really fucked up, Master Walker," I said and started crying on the phone.
 
"Hell, Son, you wait there. Xander and I will be down to get you day after tomorrow. Have your stuff ready," he said.
 
"I'll be ready, Master Johnson," I weakly replied as I hug up the phone.
 
Master Walker Johnson and his slave Xander drove all the way to Mason to pick me up. I introduced Master Walker and Xander to my family, and I could feel Master Walker and my dad bonded almost immediately. They would become good friends. I said my goodbyes to everyone and told them I'd be back when I got better. I had some things to work out. Dad cried. He didn't want me to go, but he knew it was probably for the best. He was exhausted and didn't know what to do for me.

I was withdrawing more and more into myself. I would spend days in my room lying across the bed staring at the ceiling. I wouldn't go out or see anyone. I had no sense of center, no balance or purpose to my life. There was nothing I wanted to do. No one I wanted to see. No where I wanted to go. Nothing mattered. There was no 'here' in life, there was no 'there.' Everything just was. There was no movement up, down, back or worst of all, forward. A stagnation of the soul. A loss of the spirit. Life became a limpid, silent, bottomless, dark pool of 'was.'
 
Master Walker and Xander were very protective and wouldn't let anybody know I was staying with them. They didn't lie to Booger. They just didn't say anything. I couldn't be around anybody I cared about because I was afraid I was going to bring them down like my dad or lose them like my Uncle Bud and my brothers. I was on the edge of sanity. I could’ve gone either way. Uncle Bud's letter helped. It was the only shred of reality I could hold on to. I kept going over his words in my head.  

Over and over, almost to the point of obsession. They were wonderful, comforting words. They made a lot of sense, but they weren't a road map to healing. They didn't tell me how to grieve properly nor did they tell me how to let go. (Years later I was alone in my room and heard a country and western song that doubled me over in recalled grief and pain. A young girl was crying beside the bed of her dying mother. Her mother asks her, "How can I help you say, 'goodbye'?") No one can help you say, 'goodbye.'
 
Master Walker put me up in a small one bedroom apartment over their huge garage. The garage was so large it had four one bedroom apartments and four single, bachelor apartments on top. Mine was facing away from the big front house looking out on the stables and pasture land. I didn't know if I was going to be able to stay by myself, but I tried. I woke up several times screaming. Walker and Xander were concerned. They could hear me in their bedroom on the front of their house. They were about to come to me when I suddenly stopped. I apologized and ask them not to come to me. I had to learn to face this by myself. I didn't want to destroy anyone with my pain.
 
Sometimes, it would take me five to ten minutes to figure out where I was. I started experimenting. I made a huge sign and nailed it to the wall across from my bed that read in five inch letters: Glen Rose, Texas and under that: Walker Johnson & Xander. I left night lights on in all rooms. I got a small clock radio and kept the radio on all night. It helped. It was like 'white' noise; something that was always there. My brain was asleep. It wasn't hearing or listening; however, the white noise of the radio was reality on tap; it was there when I needed it. I may have been 'there' but it was 'here and now.' It was reality. A reality I could relate to.

Music or the endless voice of blather made me feel not quite so isolated. Slowly, these things began to work. I was only having flashbacks five nights out of seven. That doesn't sound like much, but to me it was a major victory. Do you know what two solid nights of rest can mean to a soul lost in a sea of obsessive/compulsive thoughts and endless nightmares? Forget your gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Nothing is more valuable to the human psyche than a night of peaceful, dreamless sleep.
 
I stayed with Master Walker and Xander for about a month, went back home for a visit, and brought Dolly and Madison back to the Johnson Ranch. Master Walker suggested I bring them to his ranch because no one back home was interested in taking care of them. Aunt Laura ask me about selling them. I couldn't let her do that. Aunt Laura gave me Uncle Bud's old pickup truck, with camper and horse trailer to transport Dolly and Madison. They were happy at the Johnson ranch.

It was great to have the memories of the old camper and truck with me. I could sometimes imagine Uncle Bud riding next to me. It was so real I didn't want to turn my head to see he wasn't there. I would ride for miles feeling his warmth, his compassion, imagining him sitting next to me. It sounds strange but I began to feel a great comfort, and for a while, my heart was at peace. I swear today, as I write this, he very probably was sitting there helping me on down the road.
 
I started roping again and the big, tall, mean looking cowboy, Walker’s stable master, was a good amateur roper. He started roping with me. Leon was quiet, but I liked him. He left me alone. He didn’t intrude or try to force himself on me. I could be around him, but he didn't demand I entertain him or even speak. I spent hours helping him with the livestock, and if we said two complete sentences to each other in a day, it was a lot. I got to know his ways and learned how he wanted things done.

He never pushed; however, in and of itself, I found strength in his silence. My need to be with Leon was not necessarily sexual. I needed someone, anyone, for companionship who demanded nothing from me emotionally. Leon never did nor did he make any overtures for sex. He just let me be. Sometimes we would rope together by the hour and never say a word to each other. I got the idea he didn't want to be intruded on either; although, I did get the feeling I could've invited myself to his bed anytime I wanted. I didn't. I couldn't.
 
It was going on six months and I hadn't been with a soul since I got back. I tried to jack-off one night but couldn't even keep an erection long enough to climax. Major depression will do that to a man. I just gave up on the idea of sex. The idea of trying to bring Booger Red into my life and performing sexually was not an option. I simply had no interest. I was too psyched out to let anyone close to me. I wanted to, God knows I wanted to, but I was too afraid. I re-read Uncle Bud's letter every night and cried. I was reading my loss into his letter, not hearing the message in his words, but they were getting through to my subconscious.
 
I was trying to pay my way at the Johnson Ranch by helping Leon with the livestock and doing handyman work around the ranch. Hell, on a ranch that big there’s always something to do and the work kept me up and out. I would push myself to work from sun up to sundown. It seemed the more tired I was at the end of the day, the less likely I was to have a flashback. It kept me from feeling sorry for myself.

At least when my body was busy doing something, there were moments I didn't dwell on my grief, my loss, or my sorrow. Three 'my’s' in the same sentence. I guess I was so within myself I was pretty selfish. That happens, though, when you have loss and don't know how to grieve properly or how to let go. You turn in on yourself. Rather than do anything to work actively at grieving, I was keeping it bottled up inside with the lid screwed on tight. No one understood my pain, so I had to feel sorry for myself; in some ways, perhaps, it's the greatest selfishness there is.
 
Leon and I spent several days mending fences and painting the huge, long running white wooden fence around the property. We were hot and dirty and decided to cool off in the river. We threw our clothes off and jumped in. Holy shit, I swear Leon had a bigger dick than Madison's. I heard tell of his legendary cock, but I never saw it before. I just wasn't interested. I was kinda glad I hadn't invited myself to his bed, he would've killed me.

We began to horseplay a little; he grabbed me and held me. I struggled to get away. I didn't want to be held. Leon was determined, locked his arms around me forcefully but with no malice, held me until I calmed down and gave in. Then, without a word he released me. He simply let me go. I felt mixed emotions. Wasn't that what I wanted? Didn't I struggle to be free of him? Well, I got what I demanded; then, why did I feel so empty? Why did my heart suddenly feel so alone? Why did I suddenly want him to hold me again? I was a mess.

I turned from him, put my face in my hands and started bawling. Leon gently enfolded me again in his big arms and once again drew me to him. I threw my arms around him and pressed my head to his chest as he enfolded me in his big arms and held me tightly again. He didn't try to make any sexual advances, he just held me for the longest time until I got myself together. Time stood still in the middle of a rushing body of water. To feel another person’s body pressed close to mine without seeming to expect anything had a great calming and healing effect.
 
I looked up at him. Leon looked deep into my eyes and saw the hunger in my soul. He didn't say a word as he moved his mouth slowly toward mine and gently brushed his lips across them. He wasn't making a pass at me, he was gently letting me know it was there if I needed it, but he wasn't going to push. The decision had to be mine.

"Fuck it, Leon! Please, Cowboy, kiss me," I said. We were standing chest deep in the cool, swift, running water. He began to kiss me gently and then more forcefully as if he were inviting my wounded soul into his heart for repairs. He didn't rush, finished, then held me again without a word. He pulled my head close to his big chest and wouldn't let me go for a good while. Leon could communicate more with his touch than most men could with a dictionary full of words. "Thanks, Leon, I needed that," I spoke softly.
 
"Anytime, Cowboy," he said quietly without emotion. I was getting better, a little at a time. Master Walker didn't push and Xander was a love. He would ask how I was doing, and if I wanted to talk he'd listen, if not he'd understand and go on his way. I grew to love and respect him. I kept reading Uncle Bud's letter.
 
One afternoon three Harley's pulled up out front. My heart went to my throat. I wasn't ready to see Booger yet. I ran for the barn before anyone could see me. As it turned out it was Master Sam and two of his straight bikers buddies, Bull and Charlie. I got myself busy cleaning out stalls in the barn. I didn't want to go to the house to meet them. I was fond of Master Sam, but I was so shaken thinking that Big Red might be with them I didn't even want to think about it. I was angry at myself for feeling that way about a good, loving man who had done nothing to me but want to love me. I was not ready to love anyone again. I was doing good to get from day to day and the closest I'd come to opening up to anyone was the previous afternoon in the river with Leon.
 
It was another hot afternoon when Master Sam arrived. I had my shirt off and was working my ass off. I set a goal for myself to get all the stalls cleaned and fresh straw for the horses put down. It really was a two man job, but I was working out of anger. Anger at myself for feeling that way about Red and angry at God for taking my love away. I was down to the last three stalls when I sat on a bail of hay to take a breather. I heard Leon walk into the barn.

I was so used to the sound of his boots, I didn't open my eyes to see him approach. I didn't realize but my eyes were watering from the fumes from the dung and my thoughts. Leon sat beside me, but didn't say a word. He just put his big arm around me and kept his mouth shut. It was such an understanding, gently loving gesture I leaned into him and quietly started crying. He put both arms around me and held me tight.
 
"You gotta' talk about it sometime, Cowboy," he said quietly, but he didn't insist. We sat there for a long time with him holding me, "You know I ain't much of a talker, but I can listen with the best of 'em," he said. I looked up into his ruggedly handsome face and saw the pain he felt for me reflected in his eyes. He pulled his bandanna out of his back pocket and gently wiped away the dirt and tears from my face. Damn, I was filthy. Then he gently kissed me again. This time I didn't resist or hold back from the big man. My dam broke and the waters of my life began to flow again. My healing subconscious had taken over from my crippled psyche.
 
Leon told me with that kiss to put my trust in him and he would be my rock to climb out of the mire. He was inviting me to flow into him without criticism, judgment, or condemnation. I saw the pain in his face, the same pain my dad experience when I was home that almost destroyed him. With Leon I was becoming a silent killer. I didn't realize the big man was working with me day to day, by my side, giving me strength and absorbing more and more of my pain, without any words being exchanged between us. I couldn't do that to anyone anymore.
 
He had to have something from me in return and my body was the thing he most wanted. I could see the way he watched me when he didn't think I was looking. That statement sounded hollow, like Leon was a hound dog in heat and only wanted my body for sex. Not so. Leon wanted all of me, my body for what pleasure he knew he could provide both of us and my love, as much or as little as I could give him at the time. Leon was not an opportunist. He was a simple man with simple needs.
 
I wasn't afraid of hard work, and Leon appreciated my natural affinity for horses. I could talk a horse into being ridden. I learned it from a wonderful man when Uncle Bud and I were on the circuit. He lived alone on his ranch in Montana and Uncle Bud and I stopped to say 'Hello.' Uncle Bud knew him from his rodeo days. He taught me to 'whisper' to horses to get them to do anything you wanted once you got their trust. You didn't have to break them in a traumatic way. I could take the wildest of saddle bronc and within thirty minutes be riding him. Impressed the shit out of Leon and several others.
 
"Leon? May I come to your bunk this evening?" I asked.
 
"Only if you feel you're ready to give yourself to someone," he replied.
 
Damn, Leon surprised me. He was not going to let me use him without something in return. Good for Leon. Life is give and take. You give me some of yourself, and I'll give you back your life. Sounded like a fair-dinkum bargain to me. I hadn't planned to withhold anything from him anyway, but I was impressed by the strength of his statement. I kissed him again. "I will come to you clean and ready for your love. You will have all of me, Leon, I promise."
 
"Come on then, Cowboy, lets finish these last stalls. I'll give you a hand, and it'll go quicker. You did a good job on 'em. I don't want you to work that hard around here again without help. I appreciate your help and the good work you've done around the place. I ain't said nothing, but having you work by my side for the last several months has meant a lot to me. I wanted you from the first time I saw you three years ago. I prayed for you every night you were over there, for God to protect you and let you come home. My motives were selfish, I guess. I just wanted to see you again, to know you were safe," he said quietly.
 
We finished cleaning the stalls and I returned to my small apartment over the garages to clean up. I no sooner got out of the shower when there was a knock on the door. I didn't bother to wrap a towel around me. No one came to my door unless it was Master Walker or Xander. It was Master Walker. He looked me up and down and smiled. "Damnation, Son. You look so much like your uncle it took my breath away for a moment. I miss him, too, Billy. He was one of the finest men I ever knew," he said. I hugged him and thanked him for letting me stay with him and Xander. "Look, Son, you've more'n paid your way around here. I should put you on the staff payroll and will if you agree to it. Leon has been riding my ass to hire another stable attendant and wants you. I don't know what you're doing out there, but he can't say enough good things about you."
 
"Let me think about it, Master. I don't know how long I want to stay. I feel like I'm getting better," I said.
 
"It's up to you, Billy. I won't insist, but it's here if you want it; however, that's not the reason I come out here. We're grilling steaks by the pool for dinner. I'm going to go tell Leon next. After you dress, join us. Master Sam and two of his straight biker buddies are here. He'd like to see you again and introduce you to them," Walker said.
 
"Would you please ask Leon to come by and get me, Master Walker?" I asked.
 
Walker raised an eyebrow at me and smiled slightly. "Sure, Son, you and old Leon gettin' close?" he asked.
 
"It's time I let someone in, Master Walker, and whether he knows it of not, Leon's become my rock to lean on. Along with you and Xander, I owe him my life," I replied looking down at his big boots.
 
He grabbed me and hugged me. "I'm glad to hear it, Son. We been worried about you and didn't know what to do for you but let you be. Maybe if you open up to Leon you could ease Booger back into your life? He's hurting, Billy. He wants to see you bad. I can't keep him away much longer. The man fell deeply in love with you," Walker said. I couldn't answer. He knew what I was thinking. I still had a fond spot in my heart for my beast, but ghosts were just a little to big to let him through the door right now. Master Walker hugged me to him and didn't say a word. "Stay with us as long as it takes, Cowboy, you're loved here and you're welcome," he said.
 
About thirty minutes later, came another knock on the door. I opened it and there stood the most remarkable, ruggedly handsome cowboy with a huge black felt hat, new Wranglers, a beautiful western shirt, and new boots. Was old Leon looking good? "Come in you handsome devil," I laughed as I moved my left arm in a sweeping gesture.
 
"Not too shabby yourself, Cowboy," he replied with a grin. I grabbed my equally big black felt hat and put it on. Leon reached up, took it off my head and threw both hats on the bed. He took me into his big cowboy arms and kissed me in a lingering, gentle, passionate kiss. Took me breath away. I knew I was doing the right thing by offering myself to him. I felt his manhood growing in his Wranglers like a sneaky-snake. "Me, too," I said when he finished and he laughed.
 
"Grab our bonnets, Cowboy," he commanded.
 
We went to the pool to join Master Walker and Xander. We got cat calls and wolf whistles of admiration from everyone on the deck. Master Sam came to me, hugged, and kissed me. "Damn, Billy, you look like a carbon copy of your dad, Bud. Except you're slightly better looking. I could've sworn it was him walking toward us a minute ago. God, I loved that man. One of the finest men I ever knew in my life, Billy," he said.
 
"Thank you, Master Sam. Damn good to see you again, sir," I replied. Master Sam introduced his two friends to me and Leon.
 
The big mean looking one in head to toe leather stood up, shook my hand, then looked at me funny. "That ain't gonna' get it, Cowboy," he said. With that he grabbed me to him and kissed me so hard I almost swooned. I wasn't expecting a straight man to plant one on me like that. I didn't hold back from him either.
 
"Well, thank you, Master Bull. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," I said and chuckled.
 
"I ain't no master, Kid. I'm straight, but for you, I'd sure as Hell think about jumping the fence," he declared. Everyone laughed.
 
"Thank you, sir, that's a nice compliment," I said and smiled.
 
The other good looking man, Charlie, kissed me, too, but not so suggestively. He was well meaning and mannered. He shook Leon's hand as did Bull. There were four other couples there from Ft. Worth~Dallas area. They were nice, well met, good looking men. It was a pleasant evening and as dinner went on someone who didn't know me brought up the subject of what we were doing in Vietnam. I didn't say a word and would've been all right except they kept talking about it on and on. Master Sam tried to change the subject several times to no avail. He saw me getting uncomfortable. What was worse, they didn't have a clue what was going on over there and what a waste of good men it had become. Was it worth it? Then a couple of dumb statements like, “my country right or wrong, we're saving the world from Communism, and if we don't draw the line, who will?”' On and on they rambled. It was like a bulldog done bit my butt and wouldn't let go.
 
'At what price?' I wanted to scream. 'What price are you willing to pay? What price is too high? Who sets the price and why? If you set the price, would you go and fight by my side? Would you be the one to draw a line in the sand? Would you send your lover sitting next to you to die so some fat cat in Washington can line his pockets with more money? Let's talk price for price, here. Life for life. What price can you set on any man's life? Do you really think the men who manipulate these decisions are the least bit interested in who or how many good men die for their profit margin? Who will you send? Whose life is worth more than another's? We're not talking world war, here. We're not talking standing up for our country, putting our lives on the line so future generations may breathe fee.
 
We're talking about some Hell hole of a stinking rice patty thousands of miles away. We don't have the right to tell them how they should run their country. In the final analysis – bottom line – what's it worth? Buck's life? Rowley's life? Ken's life? Your lover's life? Look at him and tell him he has to die for his country because big business had a bad year. Is it worth your shattered existence as a surviving emotional cripple? Draw a line in the sand, my ass! My country does a Hell of a lot of things right. It's also capable of being wrong, dead wrong. Saving the world from Communism? What a load of horse turds you bought into. You're only spouting forth the rhetoric, with which our slanted media white washes the public. That's not why we're over there. Don't fool yourselves. I kept quiet and sank lower in my chair.
 
I saw Walker looking at me with concern. He could see the panic in my eyes and knew I was about to bolt and run. I listened for a few more minutes and had to excuse myself to go to the bathroom. I ran to the bathroom off the back entry to the big house barely in time to throw up. Leon came to find me and broke into tears when he saw me kneeling in front of the toilet retching my guts out, crying as hard as I could. He got a wash cloth and wet it with cold water and sat down with me to wipe my face and clean me. Walker came to check on us and saw Leon had things under control. He got tears in his eyes when he saw me and apologized for his friends. I felt like shit for embarrassing him.
 
"No, Master Walker," I said, "Leon, help me up. I have to face this. I can't go on this way," I said. I went back to the pool area supported by Leon and Walker.
 
"Gentleman, I'm sorry if I've ruined your evening. I have no control sometimes when people talk about Nam. You know only what our government wants you to know about Nam. I apologize to each of you, Master Walker and Xander. Please forgive me. You want to know what it's like over there?" I asked in the calmest of voices. "You really want to know why we're there? You want to know why I was sent over there and what I was fighting for? You want to know what I went through? The price I paid? You want to know whether we should be there or not? With my boss's, Master Walker's permission, I'll tell you my story." I looked at Master Walker, and he nodded approval to me.
 
"Master Walker, Xander and their stable master, Leon, don't realize it, but they've become my saviors. I wouldn't be able to attempt this without the love and support they've given me this last six months. I'll tell you what I went through. I'll tell you what I saw with my own eyes. You can hear it from someone who's been there and lived it day after day for what seemed like a Goddamned eternity. Maybe, you'll have a better perspective of what's really going on over there. Then make up your own minds, decide for yourselves whether we should be over there. It'll be the first time I've told anybody.
 
"Leon says I have to talk about it sometime. Maybe he's right. I want more than anything to begin healing. I can't go on slowly destroying those I love with my pain because they love and care about me unconditionally. Somewhere in life every man has to draw his personal line in the sand and say to himself, 'If you don't like what you've become, change it. Do something about it. It don't matter if you move up or down, but by God, keep moving.' I refuse to let what happened to me in Nam destroy me or the love my family and friends have for me.
 
I told them everything from winning the nationals in Ft. Worth, competing against Dan Yates and his son Buck, being drafted with Buck, boot camp, the four cowboys, being inseparable, falling in love, them dying on top of me to protect me and talking with them after they were dead. Three of the men were crying in their lover’s arms. Xander was crying in Master Walker’s arms. Bull had tears running down his cheeks as he was holding Charlie who was sobbing. Master Sam lay his head on his arm on the table and was crying. Even mean looking, hard, stoic Leon had tears running down his weathered face as I described the unbearable pain and deplorable guilt of surviving; of having to go on when you don't want to. Yet you don't want to harm those around you who are trying to care for you and love you. Leon had his arm around me as I went on and on.  I gave them the lecture about the real reasons we were over there and it mostly boiled down to corporate greed.
 
Finally, I stopped. Master Walker, Xander and Leon never heard my story and didn't know about my love for Buck, Rowley, or Ken. They were devastated and began to understand why I was the way I had become. I was glad I got it out. I felt like a big burden was lifted from my shoulders. I felt like healing could begin. I could go on and give myself to Leon with no regrets. A change brought about because I stood up and said, "I'm not going to run any more. You folks are gonna' know what it cost me. Damn you if you can't or worse, won't understand. Once again, Gentlemen, I apologize, but before you think bad of me for this evening be generous enough to consider you may have helped heal a crippled spirit; helped set him on his road to recovery, at no greater cost to you than to listen what I have to say. For that, I'm grateful. Thank you." I didn't say another word.
 
Everyone was quiet for a good while. Then they assured me they needed to hear what I had to say. There was no doubt in their minds we shouldn't be over there. I asked Leon if we could take off to his place. He agreed and we left. I sent Leon back to talk to Walker and Xander to tell them how sorry I was. He returned and told me they had no idea what I went through and were more resolved than ever to stand by me. "They both understand, without doubt, why you can't see Booger right now. Master Walker said to tell you he would run interference for you as long as it takes. You can see Booger and deal with him when you're ready. Also whether you like it or not you're on the books as of this week as a full time employee. You're family now, Son," Leon said.
 
That night I lay in Leon's strong, comforting arms. I was ready for him to take me but he didn't. He made the most understanding and comforting love to me and held me close. He was in no hurry. He wanted whatever passed between us to be the best for both of us. He knew he could have what he wanted anytime, but he wanted it on his terms, from someone who could offer themselves to him wholeheartedly as a complete soul. I was getting better, but there were still times I was very much an emotional cripple.
 
Underneath Leon’s quiet facade was a sensitive man who felt deeply about people. To say he wasn't overly demonstrative was an understatement. If you got a hug from Leon, it meant he was quite fond of you. If you got a hug and a kiss on the forehead, he loved you deeply as a friend. If you got a hug and a kiss on the mouth he was in love with you. I scared him to death during the night, even though I warned him about my flashbacks. I told him to hold me 'til I could orient myself. Call my name and tell me his name and where I was. Most times the delusions were so real I was totally unaware of my current surroundings.
 
I would find myself back there. I would be running though that horrible jungle, tripping, falling, getting up again to run. Leon ended up holding me tight as I once again cried myself back to sleep. I couldn't keep doing this to others and myself. I had to start healing. I truly wanted to repay Leon for his unassuming efforts to help. Being there and not demanding. Not pushing. Just allowing me to be. He wasn't a saint. He was a man who was trying to care. His strength radiated through his silence. The term, 'the strong, silent type' never fit a man better than Leon.
 
The next day was Sunday. I was up early and went to the barn to feed and do the chores. I slipped out of bed and dressed quietly so's not to wake Leon. I wanted him to sleep in because he was up with me half the night. I came back, showered, cleaned myself, slipped back into bed with him and took him in my arms. I woke him when I did. "What time is it?" he asked groggily.
 
"Time for some good old fashion cowboy lovin,' Hoss," I replied with a smile.
 
"Can't! Gotta' go feed and take care of the horses," he said as he yawned and stretched.
 
"It's done, Cowboy," I told him.
 
"You already done it?" he asked bleary eyed.
 
"Yes, sir. Got up two hours ago and let you sleep in. Cleaned myself, came back to bed in hopes I could tempt a certain handsome cowpoke into riding his old cayuse off into the sunset."
 
Leon smiled as he stretched and pulled the sheet back to show me his morning erection. Damn, I didn't know if I could take that thing or not, but I was going to give it the old college try. Then it hit me. He would be the first person I would have sex with since I last shared sex with Buck. I could handle this. I won't get emotional. Think of your original reason for offering yourself to Leon. Partial repayment for allowing you to tap his strength. Do it Cowboy! The man deserves your very best and your all. 'You can do this, Cowboy,' I heard the sound of Buck's voice echoing in my brain. I lay there holding Leon rubbing my hands over his hairy chest and pectoral muscles. "Thanks, Cowboy," I said quietly. He didn't respond but simply turned his head up to mine and kissed me gently.
 
"Anytime, Cowboy," he said, "Let's mount up and play pony express."
 
"How ya' play that?" I asked innocently.
 
"I'll stick a stamp on your forehead and ride you fast and hard 'til you deliver," he replied and grinned.
 
"Saddle me up, Cowboy, and slap some leather. Don't spare them spurs, none, neither. I promise this old hoss will deliver your mail on time," I said.
 
With that, he took me long, deep, and hard. The only way a cowboy should mount his pony. Then he rode me on down the trail. He didn't spare the leather either.
 
 
End Chapter 4 ~ Booger Red & Cowboy
Copyright ~ © ~ 2004 ~ 2016 ~ Waddie Greywolf
All rights reserved
Mail to: waddiebear@yahoo.com
12/19/2015