Booger Red & Cowboy
Waddie Greywolf

Chapter 11


I left Ft. Stockton and headed East. I had to go home. I needed my dad. Of all the decisions I ever made in my life that was the one I knew was the right one at the moment. There was no pain in this world those big cowboy arms couldn't make a little bit easier to handle. I figured Red would guess me to head West to Los Angeles, Vegas, or maybe even Tucson. I wouldn't put Dan in the middle of this thing between Booger and me. I loved him too much for that. I knew Red understood Dan Yates was out of bounds for him to contact. He knew if he ever wanted to smooth things over with me Dan Yates was not to be bothered with our petty squabble.

Booger wasn't a stupid man. I didn't worry about Red following. I knew in my gut he headed West to look for me, if he even did. He may have decided T-bo's hole was better than none at all. Fine with me, I didn't give a shit; I didn't care. I'd wait until the wind blew down then head back to Tucson where I was wanted. No, damn it, that's a lie! That's hurt and disappointment talking. I did care. I loved the old son of a bitch with all my heart and soul. I just couldn't understand why he did that to me. I didn't want to understand. I gave him everything he wanted including calling him 'master.' I became his slave. I never witnessed or heard of a master in our family doing that sort of thing to their slave.

The title 'master' should neither infer the right to break someone's heart nor do harm to another. Every part of my body hurt. Not from Booger hitting me, but from the impact of seeing the great beast I loved so dearly with his huge cock plunging in and out of T-bo's ass like a Texas oil pumper. That picture wouldn't leave my brain and I hurt so damn bad all the way down to my toes. My teeth even hurt from grinding them together ever time I thought about the grin on that little piece of shit's face afterward like he knew he'd won. His look said he thought he was a better man than me, because I was too weak to hold on to my magnificent beast. . . and, he was right.

I arrived in Mason, my home town early in the morning the second week in December. I pulled around in back of our house. Lester's rooms were in the back, and I saw his big, black face smiling like a ray of sunshine through the curtains as I parked my bike. I sat there smiling back and raised my hand in a small wave. He raised his window. "Laus' child, get chore’ skinny butt in this house. It's freezing cold out there. Old Lester's gettin' up, gonna' fix you some coffee. Um-hum. Meets you at the back door to lets you in. You's one damn fine sight for these old sore eyes, Son, I tells you!" Lester explained.

He met me at the back door in his tattered, old robe with the warmest hug. I followed him into the kitchen as he padded along in his worn over house slippers I gave him for Christmas two decades ago. He cut off the backs and the slippers were held on in front by his two big feet. He had to shuffle as he walked to keep them on. I must have bought him ten new pair over the years but those were his favorites. The rest he kept buried in the back of his closet. "For special occasions," he'd tell me. Wasn't long before the kitchen door burst open in a flurry and in marched dad with Uncle Joe close behind.

"Who the Hell's making all the racket in my kitchen at this ungodly hour of the morning?" my dad barked as an enormous smile came across his face and his arms opened wide. Never was I so happy to see three familiar faces in my life. Uncle Joe wouldn't let me go. He hugged me, kissed me, then hugged me again. You would have thought they hadn't seen me in years. Well, it had been almost two years. I traveled to many places and did a lot of things since I saw them last. I laughed at my thoughts about Uncle Joe. He took on a new importance after dad told me the story of how I came to be. Hell, if it wasn't for Uncle Joe's hot mouth sucking Uncle Bud off all those years ago I wouldn't be here. He gave the term 'mid-wife' new dimensions. It was a Friday morning, a work day for Dad, Uncle Joe, and Lester. I never knew them to miss a day's work.

"Fuck it!" Dad exclaimed and threw up his hands, turned to Uncle Joe and Lester, "We just ain't a' gonna' open the shop today. Our boy's home. All we got to get out is Dexter Bains's old IH tractor and he don't need that damn thing 'til spring no ways. Anybody’s got an emergency, they know where they can find us. Everybody get dressed, we're going to the diner for breakfast," Dad announced.

"I'll stay here, Mista' Gunn," Lester said quietly.

"Like Hell you will, Old Man. You've been part of this damn family for years. Time you started acting like it. Git in 'ner and git chore' clothes on, and step lively. You's going with us," Dad said.

"Dad, ain't never right about too much, Lester, but he sure called that one," I said to Lester as l started laughing. "I ain't going less'n ma' fish'n buddy goes. So get your ass in gear and let's go do it. Fuck this tight-ass little town," I said. Lester smiled and shook his head slowly, muttering to himself as he shuffled off toward his room to get dressed. At that moment, I think I was more proud of my old man than I ever was in my life.

I hugged him again. "You know, I 've always loved you, you old fart, but sometimes you do the right thing, and it makes me proud to be your son. You gotta' stop doing that. It's hard on me heart," I said. Uncle Joe and I laughed and then dad started chuckling.

"Sheee-iit!" was all he said as he turned and walked away to go get dressed. Uncle Joe was the first one dressed and came back to the kitchen where I was having my second cup of coffee.

"Gotta’ tell ya'," he said in a low voice, "Lester ain't been the same since you sent him that money. Goes around muttering to himself, 'That boy, Billy, send me all that money. I can't believe it. Why that boy send me that money?' Uncle Joe laughed at his own imitation of Lester. He had him down pat. Your dad looks at him in frustration and tells him, 'Oh, for God sakes, Lester, get over it! The boy loves you – all right? Let it be!'

"Yes, Sa,' Mista' Gunn. I supposin' he does at that," then he'll giggle to himself and walk away shaking his head.

Dad was next to walk back into the kitchen to get another cup of coffee. I couldn't believe my eyes. His damn boots were shined and polished. I got a big grin across my face and he started grinning, too, knowing I saw them. "Well, what the fuck?" dad shrugged, "He makes me wear 'em to bed to fuck him anymore – they's gotta' be clean," Dad said with disgust. I laughed my ass off as poor Uncle Joe rolled his eyes and blushed.

"Well, Billy, Goddamn it, your old man looks hot in his boots. He always gives and gets a better fuck when he wears 'em, so why not? The son of a bitch almost ripped me a new asshole the other night, and he talks about gettin' old. I hope to God he does soon before I have to have a retread done on my asshole. If'n I do, I'm gonna' ask 'em for steel belted radials." I never remember Uncle Joe being that open and funny with me before. He and I were beginning to develop a new mutual respect for each other, and he felt more comfortable around me. I remembered what a good fuck my old man was and knew why Uncle Joe stayed with him all these years.

We marched into the diner and nobody said a word about Lester being with us. They accepted him as 'us' and to Hell with Lester anyway, Cowboy was home. Billy Gunn III, the local town hero who saved a prince's life. Son of a bitch, I ain't been hugged and kissed by so many of my town folks in a long time. Everyone wanted to hear about the Arab Prince whose life I saved, and am I really his brother now, a member of a royal family? When I pulled the emerald ring out of my jacket pocket and put it on my finger to show them you should've heard the 'oohs' and 'aahs.' Master Ben told me I didn't have to have it appraised. He knew exactly what it was worth, one and a quarter million dollars. I didn't tell the town folks how much it was worth. I told Dad, Uncle Joe, and Lester. They couldn't believe it. The town jeweler was there, took one look at it through his portable eye loop and whistled.

"Cowboy, I know what this stone is worth and there ain't enough money in this entire community to pay for it. I would guess conservatively in the area of a million."

"You know your stones, Carl," I told him.

They wanted to know what the prince was like. I told them the story of meeting him and him recognizing me, having dinner with him and later saving his life. I put most of the heroism on little Steve. He was the one who took the bullet, but my town folk were just as impressed I threw myself and the prince to the floor to shield him. We spent half the morning having a leisurely breakfast, and as word got around town Cowboy was home, cars and trucks came from miles around to the diner. Louise and Suzie, the two waitresses, were working their butts off. I gave them each a hundred dollar tip and wished them a Merry Christmas. They hugged and kissed me to welcome me home.

"You gonna' be home for Christmas, Cowboy?" everyone wanted to know.

"Most likely, less'n they run me out," I laughed, "I got some friends in Glen Rose, and Bandera I might stop in to say Merry Christmas to during the holidays, but I'll probably be here most of the time," I allowed.

"Do some rodeoing?" one of the men hollered at me.

"Maybe, if'n these two old geezers think they can best me and Phil Roamer," I shot back.

"Ooouuu...." from the crowd.

"Well, you know what that means, Joe?" my Dad asked his partner with disgust.

"Yeah, one handed roping when competin' against the kids," Uncle Joe responded with equal disgust to gales of laughter in the diner. I remember that morning as one of the best moments of my life. It was exactly what I needed to get my heart a million light years away from my problems and hurts. I couldn't hurt with all the love around me, and I hadn't even talked to my dad yet. He knew something was wrong, 'cause I was trying too hard to be up and well met with everyone. Can't hide much from my old man, especially since we broke down all the father/son barriers. We were invited to rodeo and picnic after church on Sunday at the rodeo grounds on the other side of the park. We accepted and finally got out of the diner. Lester was all aglow as I walked to dad's truck with my arm around him.

"Billy, I wants to thank you for sending me all that money. I couldn't believe it when the little lady at the bank tells me it weren't no thousand dollars, it was TEN thousand dollars. I had to get home real quick to go to the bathroom. Laus,' child, you should a' seen me, I's a' doin' the green apple quickstep, double time. I thought I was gonna' mess in my good pants," he said, threw back his old head and laughed hardy. I laughed as hard with the old man.

"Well, I wanted to do something nice for my fishing buddy. All them years I dragged yore' ass fishing and you's hating it so. But you went 'cause you loved me more'n you hated fishing," I said, "You don't forget a man what'll do that for you," I told him.

"Damn, Billy, you's can carve to the bone sometime," the old man said as he wiped away a tear. "You don't know how much that means to me, Son. My sister and her kids need lots of stuff, and thanks to you, I's able to get her some of the things she needs. They's gonna' have a fine Christmas this year thanks to you."

"Did you save or spend some for you, Lester?" I asked sternly.

"I's still got lots left, Child, but old Lester don't need much. I got's you, your old man, and uncle to look after. Hell, they's a handful," we both laughed. "Thank God, they's slowing down as they gets older. Ain't seen no black eye on your uncle in nigh onto five years. When he walks around the shop limping like a saddle sore cowpoke and favorin' his butt when he sits down I knows they's be gettin' 'long jis' fine." We both roared with laughter as my old man and uncle looked puzzled as to what we were laughing about. I loved that old man. He was worth ten times the ring in my pocket. We hadn't been home more than an hour or so when the phone rang.

Dad answered. "Yeah, he's here, Phil. Wanna' talk to him?" he asked and handed me the phone.

"Hey, Brother, what's up?" I asked.

"Down here to the rodeo grounds with two roping ponies. Get chore' ass down here. We gotta' practice if'n we're gonna' take on your old man and uncle. They got their act together in the last year and been winning ever' damn rodeo they entered," Phil declared.

"You be shittin' me?" I replied.

"Am not! Ask anybody. You don't get down here and rope with me, they's gonna' wax our cowboy butts," he allowed.

"We can't let that happen. Be there in an hour, Hoss," I promised.

A big smile grew across my dad's face as he winked at Uncle Joe. He knew Phil Roamer let the cat out of the bag. Those two old snakes weren't going to say a word and then laugh their asses off when they won. I still had some of my old Western clothes and a favorite old pair of boots in my closet. I even had my old Hoss Cartwright hat on the shelf in a big box. It smelled like moth balls, but what the Hell, my balls probably smelled just as bad.

Got down to the rodeo arena and met up with Phil Roamer. Phil was a solidly built, deputy sheriff who worked under Uncle Bud and roped with me and my uncle for years. He was better than damn good with a rope. He and I were good together. He was married to the prettiest little girl, and had two of the sweetest kids you'd ever want to meet. A little cowgirl about five and a strapping little cowboy about nine, although he lied and told everybody he was ten.

Phil's wife, Wilma Jo and I were best buddies all through school and everybody thought Billy and Wilma Jo were going to be family. We knew better. Wilma Joe and I were buddies, we knew each other’s secrets, and we were comfortable with one another. She never said a word, and we dated all through high school. Toward the last year she started dating Phil who was older than us by about three years. As soon as she graduated, she and Phil announced their engagement. I couldn't have been happier for them, and I was Phil's best man at their wedding. Hell, I'm Godfather to their kids.

Wilma Jo ran up to me when I rode up on the bike in my cowboy duds. She threw her arms around me, hugged, and kissed me. Damn, it was good to see her and the kids again. They were all over me and the bike wanting a ride. "Well, maybe later kids, if'n your parents say it's all right."

"Take a number, Kids, momma's first," Wilma Joe said.

"Daddy's second!" yelled Phil as he swaggered up with his big ham of a hand out. I took his hand, and he pulled me to him for a big hug. Shit, he was a huge bear of a man.

"Damn, it's good to see you, Cowboy," he said. I couldn't believe it, old Phil had a tear in his eye. "Goddamn, you look so much like Bud Cummings when you rode up on your bike I thought my heart was gonna' stop," he said. "I never missed a man so much in my life, Billy, as I miss him. He was like a second dad to me and Wilma Jo. We owe him a lot. When he told Wilma Jo and me the story of how you came to be and he was your real father, he cried like a baby. Damn, he had Wilma Jo and me crying, too. We couldn't have been happier for the two of you. It really meant a lot to him. I know how close you were to him over the years. That man worshiped you, Billy. We been out to clean his grave a couple of times this year."

"'Preciate that, Phil. Ain't no way to measure how much I loved my Uncle Bud. I'm like you and Wilma Jo, I owe him so much. I never got to tell him how much he meant to me. It's because of him I'm alive today. He saved my life in Nam." I proceeded to tell Phil and Wilma Jo the story about me dying and Uncle Bud coming to me. Jim Redfeather calling out my name, over and over, until I was able to raise my boot. Phil and Wilma Jo never heard the story and were amazed.

"You know what, Cowboy? That sounds about right to me," said Big Phil "Sounds like something Bud Cummings would do for his boy. He'd get up there, plant that big cowboy boot of his down and tell God he had to let him save your life. He wouldn't take no for an answer neither. Well, we loved him and we still do."

"I really appreciate you good folks looking after his grave, Phil, and I know he would. Now, let's rodeo!" I yelled.

"Come on, help me get them ponies out of the trailer," he said. We walked over behind the snack barn and there was Uncle Bud's trailer and old truck I left in Glen Rose.

"Don't tell me...?" I looked at Phil in amazement.

"Yeah, your dad and Uncle Joe drove up there two weekends ago and got 'em. We're board'n 'em for your dad, but they's on their way to Dan Yates' ranch in Tucson. Your dad and he have become big friends, and Dan told him to bring 'em on out. Hell, didn't chore' dad tell ya'? Dan was here about a month ago and stayed damn near two weeks with your dad and Uncle Joe. They rodeoed all weekend for two weekends. Dan would rope with your Uncle Joe and then with your old man. Wilma Jo and I sat and watched 'em get better with every throw. Dan's a good teacher. He taught your dad and Uncle Joe some good shit about roping, and they got damn good."

"Those two old snakes in the grass," I laughed to Phil and Wilma Jo. "They want nothing better than to beat my ass at roping. They didn't say nary a word. We gonna' let 'em get away with that, Phil?" I asked him with a big grin.

"Not on my watch, Cowboy," he said and grinned. He stuck out his hand again, and we shook like two determined men.

Wilma Jo laughed at us. "They're good, Billy. I've watched 'em beat almost every team in the county," she added.

"You know, Cowboy, I roped quite a bit with Dan while he was here. He shared some good stuff with me. Helped me a lot. I really like him, he's one Hell of a man, Billy. He reminds me a lot of your Uncle Bud. He sure thinks you hung the moon. He can't say enough good things about you."

I never seen two happier horses in my life than Dolly and Madison when I walked up to the trailer and whistled. I thought Madison was going to kick his way out to get to me with Dolly right behind him. We got them settled down and out of the trailer. They followed me everywhere, like two puppies following their mother. They weren't going let me out of their sight. Cars, trucks, horse trailers were arriving from everywhere. Everyone got the word. Cowboy's home, let's rodeo! Friends and neighbors would laugh as they came up to hug me between two big horses who wouldn't go two steps away from me. If somebody hugged me too long they got a gentle nudge from either Dolly or Madison. The only one they allowed me to spend any time with was Aunt Laura. They knew her. She was okay.

We got Dolly and Madison saddled up and Phil and I started practicing. By late afternoon we were getting our timing and starting down pretty good. Phil wanted to rodeo late into the evening, but I'd been up most of the night before and needed some rest. I said my goodbyes and promised I'd see them first thing after church tomorrow. Dad, Uncle Joe, and Lester came down to the rodeo grounds to watch Phil and me and several other teams practice. I noticed Dad and Uncle Joe didn't have beer cans in their hands, only Coke or 7Up. I wondered what was going on. Lester waved and winked at me as he made a drinking motion behind them, shook his head and then fell over on the bench laughing. Lester was my secret agent man. God, I loved that man. He could make me laugh if the world was coming to an end.

Dad and Lester followed me home in dad's truck. Uncle Joe wanted to stay on at the rodeo grounds and was going to get a ride home with Phil. We got home, and I was exhausted. All I wanted to do was shower and hit the sack. I assumed Dad and Uncle Joe would be together and went to my room to undress and headed for the shower. Dad came into my room. I didn't have a stitch on. He put his huge arms around me, pulled me to his big body, and held me. This was my old man's way of asking without asking. He knew I understood. Red wasn't with me, and he knew something was wrong. I didn't try to hide my feelings in front of my dad and almost shed a tear. I grabbed him and held him with my head pressed tight against his chest.

"There, there, Sweet Baby, you're home now. You got yore' old man to lean on. Joe's staying at his place tonight. His idea. I didn't tell him to. His place is in my bed and he knows it, but he knows we need to be alone this evening. So get in the shower, clean yourself good. You need some cowboy lovin' only your old man can give you."

"I love you, Dad, and thanks, you're right as usual. I need my old man's lovin' tonight. Promise you'll wear them big, fucking boots?" I asked. We laughed.

"I'd wear anything you want, Son, you know that," he replied. We kissed, not a father and son kiss but one of a strong protective master and his cowboy. That old man was my dad, my lover, my master, my champion and the meanest damn rodeo rival I ever come up against. Here I was about to sleep with the enemy. Fuck it. We done seen the enemy and he is 'us.' The battle was his. Let my old man win. I'd win so much more by losing.

"Can I come get you when I'm though in the shower, Dad?"

"I'd like that," he replied.

We began our own private rodeo. He even wore his big boots when he fucked me. Woah, was Uncle Joe right? He gave and got a better fuck wearing them damn boots. I couldn't have been more near heaven after we cleaned up, and I was lying in his big arms, him whispering in my ear everything was gonna' be all right, I'd see. He wasn't going to let anything bad happen to his boy. I believed him. I don't care how old and jaded you may be, every human soul needs to hear those words from someone in their life. Everyone still has a little boy or girl inside them who needs a mommy or daddy figure to tell them things aren't as dark as they seem. That night Buck came to me again and was thrilled I was in my dad's arms.

"That old man really loves you, Cowboy. I'm jealous I never got to sleep in my old man's arms. God knows, 'cause I told him so. I would've loved to spent one night in my daddy's arms. The old man promised me when my dad crosses over, I'd get to spend the first night with him. I love you 'cause you got the balls to do what your heart tells you. Of course, I love you 'cause you're mine. You always will be and we'll be together again, you'll see, but the old man sent me to tell ya' after the holidays you gotta' get back on the road and find Red. You gotta' swallow your pride...well, some of it anyway," Buck said and chuckled,"You gotta' ride with him, Cowboy, be with him. It's important. How you choose to do is up to you but the Almighty Ramrod wants you to be with him right now. There are reasons you don't know about. I can't tell you 'cause I don't know neither. They don't tell us some things."

I looked into his beautiful, blue eyes and felt tears start. I wasn't gonna' break down. "Don't look at me that way, Darlin'," he said softly as he took me in his big arms, "you know I love you. I'll always be with you. You can't never get away from me... Booger, maybe.... me, never." We kissed and he started fading.

"Oh, God, please let him stay a few more minutes! Please God! Please stay a little longer Buck. Buck? Damn!"

"There, there, Cowboy, yore' dad's got chu!'' Hold on to me, Tiger. Buck come to you?" he asked quietly. I nodded my head through my tears. "I heard you calling his name. What did he tell you this time?" Dad asked.

"Same thing, Dad. I gotta' be with Red. God wants it that way, and who am I to go against what God wants? Besides, Buck will always be my love and guiding spirit, so I have to do what he tells me."

I told my dad the story of Red and T-bo. How much it hurt when I was just learning to trust again. I was putting all my trust in Red, and he wiped it out over night.

"Never would’ve thought old Red would be that kind of man. They say a stiff dick ain't got no conscience. Mine does, if'n it gets stiff and I don't fuck some'um, I feel guilty," he laughed at his joke. "I know you're hurtin,' Son, but maybe old Red has realized what he's lost. I'll bet he's crazy to find you and have you forgive him. Sometimes, life ain't about loving and getting, Billy. Sometimes it's about forgiving others for the shit they done to us. The real trick is to love them anyway. Now, I ain't sayin' it's easy. Hell, it's probably one of the hardest things you'll ever try to do, and don't look to me, I ain't no poster boy. I'm the world's worst at holding grudges, but I thank God ever damn day your Uncle Joe is a forgiving cuss. That man's a saint to have put up with my bullshit all these years. So was your Uncle Bud. You got his blood and his genes. I know you got a bigger heart than I do. I seen you swallow your pride a few times over the years to mend a friendship. See if you can't find it in your heart to forgive that old bastard if that's what you feel God wants you to do."

"Well, I know I could forgive you, Dad," I said, trying to lighten the mood.

"For what?"

"For making me suck you off one more time," I said. He laughed and hugged me.

"Hell, as much pleasure as you get doing it, I ought a' charge you. If'n I 'be' doling out my cowboy cock for free just make damn sure it's a good blow job, or I'll be asking your forgiveness for the spanking you get."

I eased down on my old man's already stiff cock and sucked him off good. My dad has a strong flavor that's distinctively his own. A good, masculine flavor that stays with you for hours afterward. I loved the taste of my old man's come.

We were up early. The four of us went to the diner again for breakfast. It was packed. Suzie and Louise had a table waiting for us in the back. We waded through the assembled crowd shaking hands and hugging folks. Everyone knew BG-two and BG-three were going be in for breakfast. They wanted to be there to see us. It wasn't enough they were going to see us at church, the rodeo, and picnic. I again tipped Louise and Suzie a hundred bucks. They, in turn, bought our breakfasts. They're sweet ladies, and I love them both.

We were early for church and the Reverend McCree met us at the front steps to welcome us. He heard I was in town and made sure we knew he and his wife would be at the rodeo and picnic. I handed him an envelope with a donation for the church organ fund. We needed a new organ bad. The old electronic organ was on its last leg. Shirley Grimes, the organist, had to kick it during the service sometimes to get it going again. Shirley was a dedicated musician and took pride in playing for the church. It drove her nuts having to stop every ten minutes and kick that damn organ. She would shake her head, grimace, tighten her lips and give that fucking organ a kick that would make a place kicker on any football team envious. It would make the stained glass windows rattle on each side of the church. John the Baptist's head almost fell out one Sunday, but a sharp usher saw it loose and grabbed it before it fell to the floor.

Finally, Shirley solved the problem by having one of the kids of the church stand by the organ with a baseball bat, when it started to go she'd nod at him, and he'd whack the shit out of it. That organ didn't dare cut out. I think it actually became afraid of Shirley and decided it better not give her too much grief, it didn't know what she might do next. She was a determined lady, and I admired her. We'd be singing a hymn, Shirley would nod, the kid would do his thing and all the old ladies fox furs would drop off their shoulders and anyone trying to sleep through church suddenly woke up to the power of the word. They'd forget where they were, stand up and yell at the top of their voice, 'Hallelujah!' A couple of old folks lost their upper partials. They'd go flying through the air and land on some old lady's big cabbage rose hat.  Then she'd wear it along with the other flora and fauna. Dad allowed it improved several. I'll tell you one damn thing, Shirley Grimes put the fear of God in that organ. I hated to see her have to continue playing it, but I was a little disappointed we wouldn't have the surprise whacks any more. It sure made going to church a Hell of a lot more fun.

The Reverend thanked me and put the envelope in his breast pocket as we went inside to sit down. Me, Lester, Dad, Uncle Joe and Aunt Laura, all sat on the front row. Everyone came in and there was more hugs and kisses from remote family. The service started, but there was no preacher. No one knew where the Reverend was. Someone went to look for him and found him passed out in his office. They brought him to the front of the church. He was pale white and more than a little shaken. He didn't go to the pulpit, but walked to the front of the audience.

"Today my sermon was to be on giving and receiving. I've tried, as your minister, to learn to give and sometimes I've been successful. To learn to receive is all together different. One must allow the giver their sense of contributing and feeling of personal joy in the act of giving. It's one thing to show appreciation, another to be gracious. Today, your minister failed flatter'n a cow patty falling on a flat rock to show proper appreciation or be gracious enough for a gift to our church. A fine young man, one of the finest our community has ever produced, handed me an envelope this morning as a donation to the church organ fund. I did my usual nod of appreciation, shook his hand, thanked him, slipped his donation in my coat pocket, but I didn't open the envelope until I got to my office. God sometimes works in mysterious ways to teach us a lesson. I passed out cold when I read the amount of the cashier's check for twenty-five thousand dollars." There was a mummer went through the crowd and then applause. Shirley Grimes almost fainted.

"I want to apologize to you, Billy, before God and our church for not taking the time to thank you more personally and to be gracious enough to bring you joy for your unselfish act. So, listen up, Folks. Take heed of my words. This is the lesson for today. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, but make damn sure you properly thank the man who gives him to you." The Pastor walked over to me with his arms open and hugged me. Then he took my hand, thanked me and raised both our hands locked together above our heads to salute the congregation.

"Now, let's rodeo!" he yelled at the top of his voice.

A cheer went up in our church like I never heard before. Everyone was all over our family, Aunt Laura, me, dad, Lester, Uncle Joe and the pastor. Shirley Grimes came over, hugged me real big and kissed me. "Cowboy, you don't know what this means to me," she said. Then she started crying. "See, Billy," she found the strength to continue, "God does answer prayers. I asked him to send me an organ or an angel. He sent me both. You're my angel." Then she hugged and kissed me again, this time giggling like crazy. Church was over early. According to the Reverend, everyone learned a lesson, no sense driving it home with a sledge hammer. It was a beautiful Indian summer day in Mason and everyone had rodeo fever. We drove home and my immediate family was real quiet. There was a silence you could've cut with a knife.

"What's with you guys, why's everybody so damn quiet?" I asked.

"I don't know about your dad and Lester, Son, but I'm s'damn proud of you I don't know what to say," Uncle Joe said. That was the first time in my life Uncle Joe called me son.

"I like that Uncle Joe, you should call me son more often. In a way, you're as much my dad as the other three. Hell, if it weren't for your hot mouth, I probably wouldn't be here today." Lester started laughing and my dad laughed at Lester until we were holding each other. We were laughing about how white the preacher was and how short the sermon.

"Why the Hell didn't you let us know you were gonna' do that, Billy?" Dad asked.

"Aww, Hell, Dad, it was just an extra check I carried with me in case Red and I got into trouble, if'n we needed some extra money. I heard at breakfast how bad the church needed a new organ, and I've seen poor Shirley kick that old organ since before I went to Nam. Her foot's gotta' hurt," I said with sympathy in my voice. The three of them went nuts laughing. "I just wrote the church's name on it and stuck it in an envelope. I didn't think it would be no big a deal," I explained.

"Well, I can't speak for Lester, but I'm damn proud of you, too, Son. I was sitting there being broody as a mother hen what was proud of her chick," he declared and laughed.

"Billy," Lester said putting his hands on my shoulder, "I'm proud to call you my son as much as them two yahoos." I gave him a hug.

"Thanks, Guys, now can we please get to the damn rodeo. Phil and me's got us some major cowboy butt to kick today," I said looking at my dad's ass. Lester started laughing again.

"Go get 'em, Cowboy, the major money's on you'n Phil," Lester allowed.

"You better hedge that bet, Old Man," my dad barked at Lester in fun. We all climbed in dad's old pickup truck, and I helped load Tucker and Max, dad and Uncle Joe's two roping ponies into the trailer. Dad was in his rodeo mood, and I was wondering when the drinking was going to start. It didn't, the old man and Uncle Joe only had Coke or 7Up in their hands. I even offered my dad a beer, but he declined. I was amazed, pleased, but amazed.

It turned out to be one of the best rodeo's anyone could remember. Everyone went balls out in their particular event to win. There was no holding back. There was to be elimination in the team roping and by lunch there were only three teams left. Me and Phil, Dad and Uncle Joe, and a young couple of men who were really good, Tom Pasley and Jim Poteet. We had one Hell of a picnic. The women brought more food than five times the people could eat. All kinds of good food. I ate too much. I should've never had that last piece of pie, but damn it was so good. Everyone had a great time and Phil and I sat talking quietly as all the other young rodeo fans sat and watched us worshipfully. We were just expected to win, and so far, we were doing pretty damn good.

A good nights sleep in my dad's arms took my mind off my troubles, and I was focused. To say nothing of the fuck that old man threw into my ass. I know we need to go to church for soul food but last night my old man gave me a glimpse of heaven. Straightened me right out. Screwed my head on tight. I could still taste his strong masculine flavor on the back of my tongue. I was on. Phil and I were hot. Nothing, this side of a major catastrophe, was gonna' pull me down. I thought sure Uncle Joe and Dad would be wasted by now. They weren't. They were sober and focused. My dad had a glint in his eye like a man on a mission. I realized my own sweet dad was out to stomp his smart-ass kid's butt. I just smiled back at him like, 'Take your best shot, Old Man, Phil and I are gonna' take you and Uncle Joe down.'

After lunch they had some bull doggin' and a couple of barrel racers. Then Phil and I went up against Tom and Jim. Phil and I were slower than usual, but we made our catch. At the last minute Jim's hinder rope slipped off and they lost. We were up against Dad and Uncle Joe next. They went first and they were good. Dad roped the forward and Uncle Joe got the hinders quicker'n greased owl shit. Not a flaw. I wasn't worried. Phil and I'd been getting better and better. They released the steer, and we broke the timer barrier after it. Phil had his rope around it in no time, but the damn steer sun fished and fell. It wasn't that much of a problem. I threw my rope and landed it on his hinders but as he up-righted himself he kicked my rope off. The unthinkable happened. My dad, my old man and his significant other, my uncle, succeeded in doing what they set out to do –  stomp our butts.

I whooped and started laughing. I damn near fell off Madison. Phil knew why I was laughing and started laughing, too. Dad had the biggest damn smug self-satisfied smile on his face. He deserved it. Uncle Joe couldn't even look at me, he didn't know whether to shit or go blind. He was between a rock and a hard place. I rode over to my old man and took a bill out of my Western shirt pocket and stuffed it in his. I planned it just in case.

"What's this for?" Dad pulled out a thousand dollar bill and laughed.

"Well, I know I ain't been too good a son, Dad, so I though I'd try'n buy your love," I repeated his words to me from several years ago.

"Hell, Son, you could have had that for a hun'nert bucks," he laughed. I rolled my eyes back in my head and couldn't stop laughing.

"A hun'nert bucks? You old reprobate, I was gonna' sell you mine for five!" I could barely get it out I was laughing so hard.

"Inflation!" Shot back my old man. I got off Madison and pulled him off his pony and hugged him laughing so hard I had tears streaming down my face.

"I'm proud of you, Old Man, proud to call you my dad. You and Uncle Joe whomped our butts fair and square. I'd give you that ring in my pocket for your love." The crowd was cheering the both of us as I held up Uncle Joe and dad's hands as the recognized winners. Phil rode over and shook their hands. We were still laughing.  All I could say over and over again was, "A hundred bucks, that old fart planned this, I just know. A hundred bucks!" Then I'd laugh again. I told Phil and he told Wilma Jo. We had everybody laughing.

Did we party that night? Oh, my God. However, dad and Uncle Joe stayed sober the entire time. I had a couple of beers with Phil and some friends but didn't get wasted. I was relaxed and comfortable. I was among the people I loved most in the world. I had my arms around a kid on either side of me and one in my lap. I was one of them, and yet, I wasn't one of them. At that moment, it didn't matter, I belonged, I was loved, I was appreciated, and I was home.

The next day was Monday and my dad, Uncle Joe and Lester left the rodeo grounds early to get the horses unloaded and get an early start to bed. I didn't want to stay as it was getting cooler, and it seemed like a front was moving in. It looked like we were going to have cold weather for Christmas. I said my goodbyes and hugged Phil.

"We'll take 'em next time, Phil," I told him, and he agreed. We had a good time whether we won or not. In a way I was kind of glad my old man won. They won fair and square. We didn't give it to them. Phil and I didn't plan it. I would’ve taken the win, but there was just something about my dad winning that put him a little higher on my importance ladder. He and Uncle Joe got their shit together and would be a commanding force in competition from now on. It drew them closer. It was no longer my fault or your fault, it was our fault. I could see they were more intimate with each other and dad would occasionally hug and kiss Uncle Joe in front of me. I would play like I was retching and they would laugh at me. That night Uncle Joe retired to his house to let us be alone.

"Dad, why don't you call Uncle Joe back over? You guys won, fair and square. Phil and I didn't give it to you. The two of you accomplished a goal you set out to do and worked hard for it. He needs to share that with you this evening. I'm not here to come between the two of you. I want one more night with you before I leave, but he should be by your side tonight, he's earned the right."

"I told him you'd feel that way. I told him so. I told him, 'I know my boy, Joe.' But, Son, you'll have to go get him. He won't come if I call him." I went to Uncle Joe's house and knocked on the door. He graciously invited me in.

"Uncle Joe, get your ass back over there where you belong and spend the night with my dad. He needs you and you need him tonight. You both worked your asses off to win the rodeo today, and you deserve to be together to share in that. I only want one more evening alone with dad before I take off, and I'll let you know. Otherwise, I ain't coming home much anymore if you're gonna' act this way. Your place is beside my old man in his bed. After all, he's your old man, too," I said. He looked at me funny and laughed when he got the double meaning. "Can you imagine the fuck that old man's gonna' throw into yore' ass tonight? I shudder to think," I said and rolled my eyes. Uncle Joe started laughing, I started laughing, and then we hugged each other.

"Okay, Son, let me turn the lights off. I'll walk back over with you, and by the way, Billy, thanks," Uncle Joe said.

We walked back arm in arm it was so damn cold we held each other to conserve heat. We walked inside, laughing, and giggling. Dad had hot coco waiting for us. "You're gonna' soak your feet in hot water before you jump in my bed, Joe," Dad barked at Uncle Joe. I laughed at my dad thinking how cold Uncle Joe's feet probably were. "I'll sit and soak mine with you, though," he said and smiled sweetly at Uncle Joe. We never had any more problems. Uncle Joe would always give me the first and last night at home alone with my dad. That's all I needed. That's all dad needed. The three of us grew to love each other more and more over the years.

My Uncle Joe lived his life in my dad's shadow. As I came to know him closer over the years, I learned he was a man of many talents and capabilities. Some he used, others he suppressed so he wouldn't draw attention to himself and outshine my dad. He devoted his entire life to my dad, but my dad somewhat took him for granted, until they sobered up.

My dad suddenly woke up to the treasure he had all those years, right under his nose. Then Joe began to reap the harvest of his years of devotion. Dad began to show the love to Joe my uncle longed for all those years, and when the harvest was gathered, my uncle found himself a wealthy man, rich beyond his wildest dreams with the love from a man who cherished him like no other.

* * * * * * *
Early the next morning everyone was up, getting ready for work. I got up and cooked breakfast. We were eating and the phone rang. "Yes, sir, he's here. Yes, sir, certainly sir, just a minute," I heard dad say. Dad held his hand over the phone mouthpiece.

"It's your friend, the prince, Billy," dad whispered handing me the phone.

"Master Ben, are you all right?" I asked concerned.

"I'm calling to find out if you're all right, Cowboy. Booger contacted Harry and was upset about the two of you splitting up. He's in Las Vegas right now, but Harry and I are in Reno. He knows you're not with me. Knowing you like I do, I had a feeling the first place you'd run to was your dad. I knew you wouldn't involve Dan Yates. You could have come to me, Little Brother, my door is always open to you for shelter."

"You're such a kind and generous man, Master Ben. I wish you were here with me right now to be with me and my family. I'd like to introduce my dad to his other son to say nothing of trying to please you again."

"Try? You always please me, Cowboy. I could get a flight out of Reno for San Antonio today. I have nothing on my calender for the next week. May I join you?" he asked.

"Absolutely, sir. I would be honored and thrilled, Master Ben. Let me know the flight arrival time, and I'll be there to pick you up. It may be in my dad's old pickemup truck so dress casual, sir, and Master Ben, thanks so much for being a friend and caring," I said.

"You know my affection for you runs deep, Cowboy," Ben assured me.

"I love you, too, Master Ben," I said as I hung up the phone and told dad and Uncle Joe to close their mouths. "He's coming to spend a few days with us. Not a word to the town folk. He's just my friend from Los Angeles. He'll be dressed in Western clothes. You won't be able to tell Ben from a local. He'll blend right in."

"You're gonna' pick him up in my old truck? At least borrow your Aunt's car, or take my Bronco to go get him," Dad said.

"No, I want Ben to get a real flavor of the West, and your old truck will do just that, Dad. The heater works, don't it?" I asked him.

"Yeah, everything works. It just ain't real comfortable," he said.

"It'll be fine, Dad, trust me," I assured him. The phone rang again and dad answered again.

"Oh, hello Red, how're you?" Dad paused to listen. I shook my head 'no' I wasn't here.

"No, Booger, we ain't heard from him."

"No. No. I will. Yes. Yes. I'll tell him if we hear from him. You two have a fight? Okay, all right, Booger, you have a Merry Christmas. I know, but try anyway. Yes. Yes. I will if he calls." Dad hung up the phone and grimaced. “I hate lying to the man, but I think right now you need to be apart for a while. Maybe, It'll make him appreciate you more. I hope so. He said to tell you he's miserable without you and so sorry for what happened. He loves you more'n he ever realized. Please forgive him."

"Well, I will. God says I have to, but not tonight or this week. Let him miss me for a while. Christmas is coming, and I'm going to enjoy it, although I do feel sorry for Red, and don't want him to spend Christmas alone."

The phone rang again, and it was Master Ben. He could get a flight out at noon and be in San Antonio by four forty-five. He gave me the flight number, and I told him I'd be there. I wanted to leave Mason in the late morning to make sure I got there in plenty of time. I arrived at the airport an hour and a half early. I didn't have lunch, so I sat and snacked on some crackers and a Coke as I watched Master Ben's plane arrive. Ben came down the ramp carrying a bag in one hand, some hang up clothes thrown across his shoulder. He was wearing the biggest, black Western hat you ever saw. He looked like someone out of a Western story book. God, he was a handsome man. He dropped his bag and carry on; we hugged. Damn, he felt good, he was a soothing sight for my sore eyes.

"Damn, Master Ben, it's so good to see you. I can't thank you enough for coming," I said.

"Try and stop me, Cowboy, but from this moment on, I'm just 'Ben,' okay? Unless of course, we're alone in your bedroom," he said and laughed.

"Ben it is, sir," I replied laughing. We drove back the long way through the hill country of San Antonio, and stopped in Bandera at the small store where Little Sister worked. She saw me come through the door and went bananas.

"Oh, my God, the love of my life just walked through the door, my big brother Billy. Come in, come in! What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Hey, Little Sister, I want you to meet a good friend of mine from Los Angeles, Ben Faisel. Ben this is my little sister, Betty Bob Twissleman."

"Pleasure, ma'am," Ben said with a decided drawl that made me giggle.

"You going up to the ranch to see momma and daddy? They'd love to see you. We read all about you in the paper saving that prince fellow's life, and we were so proud of you." Little sister stopped for a minute looked at Ben, then looked at me sideways grinning like a possum eatin' shit, and I nodded my head, 'yes.'

"Won't say a word! Billy – Ben – go on up to the house. Say hello to daddy and momma. They'll be thrilled to see you again. I'll be up there in a minute, I just gotta tell Mr. Warren, and he'll let me go. Don't you dare leave 'for I get up there," she threatened.

"I promise, Little Sister," I said holding up one hand as a pledge. We laughed. Ben and I walked back to the truck and climbed in.

"Sorry, Ben, I just wanted to say 'hi' and have you meet Betty Bob. Now it looks like you'll get to meet the whole damn family."

"You don't know what a treat this is for me, Cowboy, getting to meet real rodeo people here in Texas. It's a dream come true. You've made a lot of my dreams come true, Billy, you just don't realize it." We drove to the Twissleman's ranch and forded the low water damn across the Guadalupe River. Ben was impressed with the beauty of the surrounding country side. We drove up to the ranch, and they were there waiting for us. Mr. and Mrs. Twissleman and their three big sons. I introduced Ben, and they warmly accepted him immediately.

"Can you stay the night?" Mr. Twissleman asked.

"We hadn't planned on it, Mr. Twissleman. I just picked up Ben at the San Antonio Airport. He came out to spend Christmas with me and my family. We were passing through on our way back to Mason, stopped in the store to say 'howdy' to Little Sister, and she threatened us with our lives if'n we didn't get our butts up here to say 'hello' to you and Mrs. Twissleman."

"She's a good girl, taught her well, Son," he said laughing. "So glad you did. Stay, have supper with us," he insisted. I looked at Ben and he nodded.

"All right, sir, we'd love to, you got reservations for two in the barn?" I laughed.

"Oh, Hell no, too damn cold out there this time of year. We got a nice guest room for you and Ben."

"I'll need to call my dad and let him know we won't be home 'til sometime tomorrow if I can use your phone."

"Sure, Son, over here."

I called dad and told him where we were. He asked if Ben was all right, and I assured him he was. He sort of chuckled, and told us to have a good time he'd see us tomorrow sometime; come by the shop on the way in. I promised we would. Ben and I stayed the night with the Twisslemans, and true to her word, Betty Bob didn't say a word to her family about Ben being the prince. She wasn't the least intimidated by him either, and flirted with him shamelessly. Ben knew she was kidding and had a delightful time. Once again, the food Mrs. Twissleman brought out was unbelievable. She cooked a prime rib roast that melted in your mouth. Ben ate like a hay hand in mowing season. He hadn't experience good home cooking and couldn't get enough. He was so used to restaurant food, it was a real treat for him. What really got him was iced tea served in mason jars. He thought that was wonderful. It was a nice touch of Americana he wouldn't otherwise have a chance to experience.

The Twisslemans wanted to know all about me saving the prince's life. I told them it was no big deal. I wasn't the real hero. It was little Steve who took the bullet. I just reacted and threw the prince and myself to the floor to get him out of harms way. I showed them the ring Ben's dad gave me to induct me into the royal family. They passed it around and were amazed. "So you're a member of a royal family, Son?" Mr. Twissleman asked.

"An associate member, by chance, Mr. Twissleman, only by chance, but I'm honored and proud to be a member of such a fine family. They're fine people, Sir. Ben's father, the sultan, is a wonderful man." There was a silence you could have heard your heart beat.

"Well, Son," Mr. Twissleman touched Ben on the arm speaking to him, "you're lucky to have such a fine man as Billy for a brother. Just don't go telling him no secrets, Ben," he said with a grin. They laughed and laughed at my faux pas. Betty Bob came over and messed my hair up.

"I didn't say a word and here you spilled the beans, Big Brother," she gigged me.

"I'm sorry, Ben, it just slipped out," I said laughing with them.

"No harm done. These folks are fine people. They'll treat me like one of them."

"We sure will, Ben," Mrs. Twissleman interjected, "You're welcome here."

"Thank you, Mrs. Twissleman, I appreciate that. I really appreciated that fine meal. I can't remember when I've had such fine food," Ben said sincerely. Mrs. Twissleman just beamed.

We were up early the next morning and on our way after a hearty ranch breakfast. Ben was aglow from the visit with the Twisslemans. It was all he could talk about. He felt so comfortable with these people and accepted for who he was and not an Arab prince. Even the three big Twissleman boys were polite, respectful, and treated him like a family member. Ben seemed to enjoy the ride in dad's old pickemup truck back to Mason. We got there right around noon. I drove directly to the shop and surprisingly dad, Uncle Joe, and Lester were closing the place down. During Christmas there wasn't much work to be done on cars or trucks. 'We'll, wait 'til after the holidays,' everyone thought. They ran out of work and didn't see any use hanging around for the rest of the afternoon. If anyone needed their car or truck fixed they knew who to call. I introduced Ben to dad, Uncle Joe, and Lester. They took to him immediately.

"Dad, I want you to meet my brother and your new son, Ben Faisel. Ben I want you to meet my dad and your new dad, Billy Gunn Jr." Ben stuck out his hand. Dad took his hand then pulled Ben to him and hugged him. "You don't shake your son's hand, Ben, you give him a hug."

"Thanks, Mr. Gunn, I appreciate that," Ben was getting a little misty.

"J'eet lunch yet, Guys?" Dad asked us

"No, sir," we replied.

"Well, let's go over to the diner, and I'll buy us lunch," Dad offered.

"You're on, Dad," I answered, "He don't offer to buy too often, Ben, so I take advantage of it when he does," Lester and Uncle Joe roared.

Phil Roamer, Wilma Joe and the kids were in the restaurant, and we sat with them. I introduced Phil to Ben as my roping partner for the last rodeo we had on Sunday.

"Tell Ben who won, Cowboy," Dad goaded me, "go ahead-on, Son, don't be shy, tell 'em." Everyone in the diner was waiting for my answer.

"Well, Ben... dad and my Uncle Joe kicked our butts. They won, fair and square. First time I ever lost, and wouldn't ya' know, it would be to my old man and uncle? I couldn't be prouder of him and Uncle Joe. They worked their asses off, got their act together, and beat Phil and me," I said. Dad put his big arm around me and pulled me close. Ben smiled.

"We're glad you could come out to be with us, Ben. Means a lot to the cowboy, here. You're welcome here," Dad patted Ben gently on the back.

"Thank you, Mr. Gunn. Cowboy's told me so much about you and your family. I feel like I know you all ready. He said you were a friendly bunch of folks, and he wasn't kidding. I see where he gets his charm, humor, and manners."

"Aww, he's a good boy. Can't rope worth a shit, but he's a good boy," Dad said. The entire restaurant started laughing at my dad. He deserved to crow.

Louise the older waitress kept giving Ben the fish eye as she was serving us. She pulled me aside. "BG-three, I know'd ju' all my life. You'n me, we grow'd up together. Now, just who the Hell you think you're kidding? That good looking man sittin' at that table is the prince, ain't he?" she confronted me.

"All right, Lousie, you're right. Please, please, keep it to yourself," I begged her.

"Oh, Hell, Billy, you been too damn good to me for me to say anything. Suzie don't know. She ain't put it together yet, but I did," she said proudly.

"Thanks, Sweetheart, I owe you big time. I won't forget."

"You don't owe me nothin,' Sugar. I just wanted to know for myself. Glad you were honest with me," she said and winked.

We had a great time at lunch and Ben really seemed to enjoy himself. Everyone got invited for another picnic and rodeo the next Saturday. It was going to be a private affair, Phil said. Everyone laughed at him, and he laughed, too, knowing once the word got around Phil and Cowboy were at the rodeo grounds, come on down. Cowboy up! Let's rodeo!

We took Ben on a small walking tour of downtown Mason. You walk around the square, and you've seen the town. We showed him the park and the rodeo grounds, and took him back to our place. He was impressed by our big two story house. Dad kept it in pretty good shape all these years. Together he and Uncle Joe worked and repaired both houses. They kept them painted and the yards cared for. It was a lot of work, but they didn't mind when they did it together. We got home, and Dad took me aside.

"Go up to the big bedroom across from yours, and take a look, see what you think." I padded up the stairs and opened the door. I couldn't believe it, brand new bedroom furniture, a beautiful rug on the floor, beautiful table lamps, a dresser, and chest of drawers. They went out, bought all this stuff, had it delivered and set up for me and Ben. It looked like a room at the damn Hilton. I came back downstairs. Lester, Uncle Joe, and Dad had smug, self-satisfied smiles on their faces.

"Thank you, what more can I say?" I hugged each one and poor Ben was mystified. "Come with me, you have to see what these men did for us." I grabbed his luggage, hanging stuff, and started up the stairs.

"You'll have to get the door for me, Ben, if'n you don't mind, sir," I said. He opened the door and even he was wowed.

"They did all this today... for us?" Ben asked sitting on the bed and bouncing a couple of times testing it.

"That's my family, Ben. I know you would’ve been happy bunking in my old room, but they had different ideas as to your comfort. God love them for it, can you believe it?" Ben got a bit misty.

"I'm really honored and pleased to think I'm a small part of your family, Billy. A gesture like this is every bit as important as the ring my father gave you, Steve, and Tim. It means the same thing no matter the price. In some ways this gesture is of much greater worth, to me anyway. You truly have become my brother, Cowboy. I know you've had it rough lately with Red; I'm sorry for that, but I hope there's room in your heart for a brother like me."

"God, Master Ben, I'll always be your brother and your slave," I reminded him.

We hugged and kissed lying across the comfortable new bed. We strolled back downstairs. Ben hugged each of my family and thanked them individually.

"Well, I didn't want my two sons sleeping on some ratty old bed we've had around for years. Time we upgraded our furniture anyway. 'Sides that, Ben, if'n you decide to tear off a piece of the cowboy's ass tonight, we won't be kept awake half the night by the rusty bed springs on Cowboy's old bed."

Ben doubled over with laughter. I did too. My old man could say some of the most off the wall shit I ever heard. He could be painfully funny at times. From then on dad, Uncle Joe and even Lester referred to Ben as just 'Ben' or 'Son.' He ate it up, especially when my dad talked to him he would just brighten at the sound of the word. Later he told me his own father rarely called him 'Son.'

We spent a wonderful week together. I pleasured that man any and every way I could think of, and invented a few of my own. He really got off on me cleaning his dusty boots when we came back from walking around the town. We bonded as brothers. We bonded as master and slave, but Ben was a wise man. He knew I had purposes in life I must take care of as he had. We were grateful for the time we could call 'King's X', drop out and love each other. I never had a better time with any man than that week with Master Ben. Years later he recalled that week and Christmas as one of the happiest times of his life. I shared my feelings with Master Ben about my situation with Red. He listened and was sympathetic, but he only had one statement which made me think.

"You did accept him as your master, Cowboy," Ben said. He was right. No matter what Booger did to me I was still his slave. Ben didn't have to say any more. I knew exactly what Ben meant. Was I going to live up to my commitment to Red to be his slave or was I running when the going got tough? Was I his slave or was I just playing at it? You can't have it both ways. You either ‘is,’ or you ‘ain't.’ I guess he was trying to say was even masters make mistakes. A good slave would swallow his pride and forgive his master. He didn't want to influence me, but he helped me see another side of the question I didn't considered. Well, I was trying to be a good slave. I stepped aside for T-bo. If Red preferred another slave to me, he could have him.

As false and self-serving I knew that statement to be, I wasn't ready to go back to being Red's slave right away. He offered me an ultimatum once to become his slave or else. I gave him everything he wanted. I paid his price. Now the boot was on the other foot. He was going to find himself on the other end of an ultimatum. If he didn't want to accept it, fine. I'd wait a spell and go on with my life. He had no problem demanding what he wanted from me, why should I eat shit to take him back? Hurt feelings, jealousy, and pride clouded my reasoning. I couldn't have been more wrong in my evaluation of the situation. If I was the slave I am today, it would never cross my mind to play a game like that with my master. To fight Booger Red for control was a no win situation. Even if he went along with me, I'd be giving up that which I most needed from him, his control.

The weekend came and we were up early. Dad didn't open the shop all week. He and Uncle Joe were practicing their roping. They were out for blood. Dad had a taste of 'best,' and he wanted more. Our good natured rivalry became legend in our town,and everyone wanted to be there to see who was going come out on top. I ate some major crow that week. I didn't mind, it actually brought my dad and me closer. I knew dad was enjoying it. He finally did something in his life he worked hard for and helped someone else along the way, but I wasn't about to make it easy for him. If he wanted to be the best he had to beat the best. He probably wouldn't admit it, but I think he wanted to be good for me, too. He needed me to be proud of him. The way I looked at it, I won either way.

I spent all week teaching Ben to ride western. He had a lot of experience on Arabians. He was brought up learning to ride, but they have different saddles. I also taught him to 'whisper' to horses. Dolly was his first subject, and she fell madly in love with him. She followed him around everywhere, and when he saddled her up and started riding her it was like she was reading his mind. She actually followed him around after he got down. He became quite fond of the old girl. He spoiled her rotten. He always managed to get an apple or lump of sugar to hide in his pocket. She knew it, too, and would pester the shit out of him until he gave it to her. When Ben was in the saddle he looked like any typical American cowboy.

I took lots of pictures with my small cheap camera, and he took a lot with his expensive Japanese camera. He was a naturally photogenic man. I couldn't take a bad picture of him if I tried. I made up a picture board of him and me in our Western outfits, on horseback, separate and together. I included pictures of my family and the community, the town square, the County Court House, the park, and the rodeo grounds. Ben loved it, and with his permission I forwarded it to his dad. He sent me the nicest letter through Tim, and invited my family to visit Bahrain. He said he was glad his son had a brother like me.

Saturday came and Ben couldn't wait to get to the rodeo grounds. He wanted to see what a local impromptu rodeo was like. He met damn near everyone in the county during that week. I thought maybe Louise shared her secret with Suzie at the restaurant. She didn't. Both women flirted with Ben with abandon. He thought they were wonderful.

Ben and I loaded Dad and Uncle Joe's two ponies, Tucker and Max. We hooked the trailer up to the back of Dad's truck, jumped in the back and we all headed for the rodeo grounds. Phil Roamer and his family arrived before us and the kids ran to Ben and me. Ben grabbed Sally and I wrestled with Phil Jr. Phil brought Dolly and Madison as he was boarding them on his ranch for dad and Uncle Joe until they could plan a trip to Tucson. I gave Wilma Jo an envelope with a thousand dollars in it for their board and care.

"Billy, this is way too much money for their care," she said.

"Well, if there's some left over buy Phil Jr. a new pair of boots and Sally a pretty new dress. Buy yourself something too, Little Sister," she hugged and kissed me.

"You always were so good to me, Billy. That husband of mine worships the ground you walk on and your Uncle Bud, oh Lord, don't even get him started on Bud. He loved your uncle more than his own father. His one statement about you he says over and over, 'They don't come no better'n Billy Gunn.' I have to agree with him, Hon, after all he is my old man," she said with a sigh. We laughed together.

Dolly couldn't wait to get out of the trailer to see Ben. The Hussy! We finally got Madison and her out. She followed Ben everywhere. Phil said she gets depressed when they go home. Of course Ben had a nice Granny Smith for her. He made me make a special trip to the market just so's he could get her treats. She wasn't about to share it with Madison either. Phil had Wilma Jo pulled his horse trailer behind his truck. He brought his roping pony, Midnight, that he felt more comfortable on than Dolly. We were going all out to recapture our crown. The enemy was equally intent on keeping it. Dad and Uncle Joe had their heads together talking strategy all morning. I laughed at them. "How much fuck'n strategy do you need to throw a rope around a damn cow's neck?" I asked and fell out laughing.

It was a warm day and the sweat band on dad's old hat was soaked. Laying off the beer shaped him up a little bit and Uncle Joe, too. They no longer had their beer guts. For the first time, in a long time, my dad sat a good horse. He looked damn good on old Dan Tucker. Uncle Joe wasn't too shabby on old Max either. He still could make the teen age girls giggle and blush when he rode by. We started with warm ups and Phil and I hit, right on. His horse was used to riding lead and securing the head. While Madison was used to me roping the hinders. We were doing great. So was dad and Uncle Joe. They were on. Ben was helping out with the timing and the starting ropes. He would jump in and do anything to help. He was loving every minute of it. I checked with him regularly to see if he was okay.

"You know, Cowboy, it's one thing to sit in the stands and watch, but it's another world to be down here where the action is. Am I all right? Am I all right? I'm in heaven, this is the most fun I've had in years."

We were just getting ready to make our first run when two pickup trucks pulled up with horse trailers. We stopped to see who it was. I saw a big man get down from his truck, and I let out a whoop you could've heard in the next county. It was the Twisslemans come to rodeo. I got down off of Madison and handed his reigns to Phil. Ben went with me to welcome them. We ran over and hugged them. Mrs. Twissleman and Betty Bob came, too. We shut down the goings on for a minute to introduce them to everybody.

"Damn, Mr. Twissleman, it's great to see you folks again. How'd ja'll know we was rodeoing this weekend?" I asked.

"Called your house to invite you and Ben down and your dad invited us up for the weekend. Loaded everybody in the trucks and here we be."

"So good to see you again, Mr. Twissleman. Ben stuck out his hand. Big Ed Twissleman shook Ben's hand then pulled him in for a hug. Ben was used to it by now and hugged him back. The three boys Bronk, Toller, and Morgan came and shook hands with us. My dad, Uncle Joe and Lester came over to meet them.

"Dad, Uncle Joe, Lester meet Mr. Ed Twissleman," I said, "Mr. Twissleman this is my dad, Billy Gunn Junior, my Uncle Joe Potter and my other dad, Lester Thornton." Mr. Twissleman didn't bat an eye. He knew Lester was part of our family and that's all country folks need to know to accept you.

"Damn good to meet you, sir," my dad said to Ed Twissleman. "Heard a lot about you, your family, and your ranch. Hope to come visit sometime and see for myself," dad said, shaking Ed Twisselman's hand.

"You're welcome anytime, Mr Gunn," he replied.

"Just call me Billy or Gunn, Mr. Twissleman."

"Then what do we call young, Billy, here?" he asked.

"What everyone calls him, 'Cowboy,'" Dad replied. The two of them had a good laugh.

"Ed, Joe, Lester, and me, well we're so damn sorry for your loss. Your boy stayed with us that last week before returning to boot camp with Cowboy, Buck and Ken. T'weren't a finer boy walked this Earth, Ed. Hell, the whole damn town fell in love with him. If it weren't for your boy, mine wouldn't have come home to me, and for that, I'll be eternally grateful to your family and your son. We loved him a lot, Ed," Dad said.

Big Ed Twissleman broke down. My dad grabbed him, held him and cried with him. My old man could be a good hearted man sometimes, and I was proud of him. Ed thanked him and told him they were so glad Cowboy made it back safely. Dad was just gonna' have to share me, 'cause they already consider me part of their family. Ed was better, and they both had a laugh. Mr. Twissleman walked over and put his arm around Ben.

"You enjoying yourself, Young Man?" he asked.

"More than I can express, sir. These folks have taken me in as one of their own, and it's a world I'd never have a chance to experience if it weren't for Cowboy and his wonderful family. They sort of adopted me as a second son, and I'm loving it," Ben said.

"They got you on a horse yet, Son?" he asked joking with Ben.

"Yes, sir, that Palomino Morgan mare over there, Dolly. I think she's in love with me," Ben replied.

"Be careful, Son, Mrs. Twissleman and Little Sister are, too," Ed warned him and let out a hearty laugh. Ben laughed with him. We helped his boys get their horses from their trailers. Someone yelled, "Let's rodeo!"

We Rodeoed hard until noon and all the ladies again brought food from everywhere. Aunt Laura even brought several dishes and pies. They closed down the diner.  Louise and Suzie brought food. Ben couldn't believe his eyes at the four picnic tables loaded with good food. I thought he was going to eat himself sick. He was a big man though and could pack it away. We worked up an appetite. He fell in love with iced tea. He never drank it before and developed a taste for it.

Ben was enjoying a world of new experiences among good folk who accepted him as our friend. They didn't need to know more. He was particularly moved by Mr. Twissleman's ease around him and treating him like a respected friend, calling him ‘son’ and putting his arm around him. Things we just take for granted were wonderful new experiences for him.

We started rodeoing and the trials began. Ed Twissleman and his son Toller were no slouches when it came to team roping. I watched them and whispered to Ben and Phil we may have more to worry about than dad and Uncle Joe. They didn't miss a throw in practice and their times were first rate. Came time for Phil and I to rope and we were right on. Phil had his rope around the steer right out of the chute. He cinched his rope around his saddle horn and his horse, Midnight, pulled back to tighten it. I hit the hinders right after, and we were timed. We pulled the best time for the first round eliminations.

The Twisslemans were second and dad and Uncle Joe were third. We all roped two more times for elimination to the best teams. We went first as the top timers usually do. We had a good run but our time wasn't as good as the first time. Ed and Toller Twissleman grabbed the best time the next round and Dad and Uncle Joe beat our time. We were out. A cheer went up for those two old cowboys you could hear for miles. Phil and I rode over to dad and Uncle Joe and shook hands.

"This is starting to be painful, Dad," I said and laughed as I joked with him.

"It ain't over yet, Son. I think we got us some first class ropers here today."

"Looks that way, Mr. Gunn," Phil allowed.

The Twisselmans went first and bettered their time. They were dead on. Dad and Uncle Joe were next. Dad got the rope on the steer right out of the chute but Tucker pulled too hard and started dragging the critter across the arena. There was no way Uncle Joe could get his rope under the hinders and the Twisslemans won. We rode over and shook hands as the crowd went nuts.

"Hell, Ed, we didn't invite you down here to show us up. Congratulations, that was some damn fine rope'n." Dad told him as he laughed and shook Ed Twissleman's hand. "You done good, Son. Some fine rope'n," Dad spoke to Toller as he shook the young man's hand.

"You two are damn good, Mr. Twissleman, Toller. Congratulations. You went up against the best and won. Now, that weren't me'n Phil. My dad and Uncle Joe are the best. They stomped our butts last weekend." I laughed. Dad was disappointed but mellowed as the day wore on and nightfall came. We took the Twissleman's horses to Phil and Wilma Jo's ranch south of town, helped unload them, wiped them down and fed them. They were going to leave them there and come stay with us.

We turned Uncle Joe's big house over to the Twisslemans. There was a bedroom for everyone. Uncle Joe kept his house in tip top condition at all times and had a house cleaning lady come in once a week. Everything was spotless and the beds were made with clean sheets. He showed Mrs. Twissleman and Betty Bob where everything was and bid them goodnight after we had a small dinner of left overs.

We had breakfast the next morning, went to church, and set out for the rodeo grounds. We rodeoed some, but people started leaving in the early afternoon. The Twisslemans had to get back. The next day was Christmas eve and everyone wanted to be home for the holiday. I cried when I hugged Little Sister goodbye and wished her a Merry Christmas.

"I love you, Little Sister," I said with tears in my eyes.

"You know I love you, Big Brother," she whispered, then added, "your Prince loves you, too." Then she giggled like a school girl.

"What did Little Sister say to you?" Ben asked later when we were alone in bed.

"She told me you loved me," I replied laughing.

"She's a wise young woman. She's also right," he confirmed. He pulled me closer to him and kissed me gently. We were from two different worlds but our hearts spoke one language, the language of friendship, the language of two brothers, but more importantly, the language of love.


End Chapter 11 ~ Booger Red & Cowboy
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12/20/2015