I did not hear from Tim all day Sunday, though I waited by the phone, as often as I could. I was suffering from a mixture of excitement, dread, and, anxiety. I felt even more disconnected from my family than ever, and, being around them, even if just for a day, after the night I had spent with Tim was nearly impossible. The tiny house seemed bleak and unfamiliar, my family strangers. My anxiety level was so high, as I wondered what would come of Tim’s conversation with Wayne, that it felt as if I was simply on fire, all over, or, as if someone was administering electric shock to my entire body at regular intervals.
It turned out that I would likely see him, afterall, that evening. I was training a young stallion for a close friend, Kathy, and, Tim had had him hauled over to Wayne’s so that I could ride him up there. We called the stallion, affectionately, Chocky. He was a great, jet black hulk of a horse, and, at one point, we had hoped to grow him out as a hunt seat prospect. He was not gelded because of his size and color. It turned out, however, that he just wasn’t going to work out, and, it was with great dismay that I learned Kathy had decided to sell him. We had a gentleman from Kansas in town to look at him, so, I needed to go to Wayne’s, that evening, to ride him.
Chocky was a sweet thing, with a kind eye. He was a true giant for a quarter horse, and, unfortunately, was not put together well enough to be a good hunt seat horse. In fact, he had a habit of tripping and falling—so much so that I never turned him out, or longed him, as he needed guidance just to keep his feet under him. Tim watched me like a hawk while I rode him, fearing that, one day, he would fall and hurt me. This is one reason Tim wanted him kept up at Wayne’s, so that he could keep an eye on us while I rode him. I wondered how Tim thought I survived in all the weeks before I had met him, while I was riding Chocky alone at Kathy’s place. Still, Chocky and I were friends, and, I loved him. He was, in a way, the end of an era, for me. He was the last foal to be born on our farm, and, perhaps, my last connection to the quarter horse world.
And, I was strangely thrilled that Tim was even remotely concerned about my welfare.
Unfortunately, it was my mother who would be taking me up to Wayne’s, where we were to meet the gentleman from Kansas. I prayed Tim would not be there, when we arrived, and my stomach turned round and round on the ride up to Wayne’s. I feared Tim would think I was stalking him.
As we pulled up, in front of the show barn, I noticed several familiar pickup trucks, and, saw that the barn was still all opened up. I knew that Tim was likely roping with all of his cronies. Sure enough, when we walked into the arena, Tim, and, several of his buddies, including Doug and JD, were all sitting around, casually, on their horses. It looked as though they had finished roping for the evening, and, were having their nightly cowboy shoot the breeze session. My mother and I would need to walk right between them to get into the show barn.
I dared not look at Tim. I was embarrassed. Not only that I was there with my mother, but, that he was there, with all of his friends, and, that at least two of them knew we had spent the night together. I was embarrassed, as well, that Tim had seemed to uncover all of my little secrets the night before, and, I felt excruciatingly vulnerable. The things he had seen!!! I also feared my mother would notice something in the way Tim and I looked at each other.
The distance from where I was standing to the other side of the cowboy cluster, where I needed to be, seemed endless, however, I put my head down and walked through them, with my mother following behind me, hoping, somehow, that I would suddenly be rendered invisible. The only sign I gave that I was aware of their presence was to rub the proffered nose of Tim’s big sorrel mare as I walked by.
I set about getting Chocky out of his stall, putting him in the crossties, and, walked down to get my clippers from the tack room. My mother followed me, then went to talk to one of the cowboys who had called out to her as we were walking in. My mother worked at a local Western Store, and, cowboys were always asking her to order this or that for them, often through me.
I took my clippers back down to where Chocky was tied, and, looked around for my little step stool. The electric outlet was high above my head, and, I didn’t want to ask Tim to plug them in for me, as he usually did. I hadn’t yet looked at him, but, no longer heard his soft voice amidst the other voices. I guessed he’d gone to put Lady away. He didn’t keep her in the show barn, since she was strictly a roping horse, and, didn’t need to be in the heated barn.
I got my clippers plugged in, and, their steady buzz was a comforting and familiar sound, muting the sound of the male voices I could hear from the other end of the barn. Chocky put his big head down to have his ears clipped. He was used to my small size, as I was the only one who had ever really worked with him, and, I was only five feet tall! I put thick cotton swabs in each ear to keep the hairs from going down into the ear before I began clipping.
Before too long, Chocky’s head went up, and, I looked over my shoulder to see Tim approaching me quickly with his familiar, long legged stride. He did a little shuffling dance, then swept his hat off.. His lovely blue eyes were shining brightly from under the brim of his baseball cap. “Do I have to dance a jig to get your attention?” I could not bear the intensity of his gaze, and, turned my attention quickly back to Chocky. I soon felt his thin arms around me, as he grasped me from behind, hands clasped under my breasts, “So, you aren’t speaking to me, today?” he wondered softly into my ear. “Or, were you afraid I’d tell yer mom about that sexy little beauty mark on the inside of yer right thigh, right next to yer little--“I interrupted him, “Don’t talk like that with my mom here!!” The very image that accompanied his colorful words made me cringe with embarrassment, though, only, I think, because my mother was present. Truthfully, I was as thrilled as I was embarrassed, and, my legs had turned to jello. “Ah, darlin’” he said softly, “She can’t hear a word I’m sayin’,” this was said, however, with a quick glance behind him, likely to determine the whereabouts of my mother. ‘Sides,’ he added, “She probably saw that beauty mark all the time, while she was changin’ yer diapers, when you was a baby.” Ugh. He was definitely making me uncomfortable, and, seemingly, enjoying it immensely. My family was one that didn’t talk about sex—at all, under any circumstances. I had never even received, “The Talk,” so that, when I first got my period, I thought I was dying, in secret, for months, and, eventually began stealing pads from the bathroom of a friend. I had turned into a maxi pad bandit, simply because I was too ashamed to tell anyone what was happening to my body.
All of this made Tim’s intimate references to his carnal knowledge of me all the more excruciating. Tim had no way of knowing any of this, however, and, operated under the illusion that my family was a normal, church going American family. There was no way I could begin to explain the truth to him.
I was also still a bit peeved that he had not called me to let me know how things had gone with Wayne. I said nothing about this, however, and, simply extricated myself from his embrace, which my mother was now observing from the other end of the barn. “She’s watching,” I said painfully. He turned around to look, and, gave my mother a smile and a wave. I wanted to kill him. My face must have revealed my discomfort, because he backed away from me, and, took the clippers from me. “I’ll finish this. Why don’t you get him vacuumed off?” We continued to work on Chocky together, in silence, as my mother approached. “Why don’t you put your western saddle on him, Shell?” my mother said, adding, “He’ll look a bit less bulky, that way.” Tim went off to get my saddle, knowing I would have a bit of a struggle hoisting it onto Chocky. He had watched me tossing my English saddle, which was much lighter, up on him many times, with considerable amusement. In fact, I rarely used my Western saddle, which was a trophy saddle for winning the All Around Youth award in 1977, so that it was barely broken in, and, just not as comfortable, nor as easily tossed on a tall colt.
Tim returned with my saddle, and a couple of cowboys named Doug and JD. Doug was smiling knowingly at me, and I prayed he would say nothing in front of my mother. I know I actually flushed with embarrassment as I met his laughing eyes. JD was polite. One would never have known, by his expression that he and I had passed each other on the way to the bathroom that very morning. Tim tossed my saddle atop Chocky as I combed out his mane and tail. “You gonna be able to do this with out wipin’ out, old boy?” Tim asked Chocky, and, we all laughed. Chock pawed the concrete, anxious to answer Tim’s question. The dogs were barking out front, so, I guessed our buyer had arrived. I sent Tim out to get him, and, got Chocky bridled up.
The buyer was a young rancher from Kansas, who was looking for a Torino bred stallion. I hadn’t spoken to him, however, him and my friend Kathy had been talking back and forth for a couple of weeks. He was rather a bookish looking fellow, when compared with the rest of the gang present, and, was very quiet. Tim was telling him what I’d been doing with Chocky(which wasn’t a great deal, due to his apparent lack of coordination), as they walked toward us, and, he was running along, trying to keep up with Tim’s long legged stride, and, look up at Tim’s face at the same time. It was a wonder he wasn’t tripping and falling. Perhaps he and Chocky might be a good match.
I prayed that he would not ask to get on Chocky himself, however. It would be less than ideal if Chocky were to take a tumble with a prospective buyer on board. I had been riding young horses long enough to be able to, “feel,” when they were likely to misstep, and, was experienced enough to avoid disaster. I wasn’t certain as to the experience of this gentleman from Kansas. He certainly wasn’t dressed for riding, which was encouraging.
We introduced Jim to Chocky, then, led him out into the indoor arena, where Tim gave me a leg up. Strangely, I hadn’t noticed how warm Tim’s hands were, before. I certainly felt their heat, there in the indoor arena, as he lifted me high over the saddle. Rather than just lifting me high enough to get my foot in the stirrup, as most folks did, Tim always lifted me waaaaaay over the saddle, so that I could just plop myself down into it.
The ride went well, with only a couple of tiny trips and stumbles. Chocky was his usual quiet, willing self, and, Tim said he looked, “real purdy,” going down the rail. Jim would call us next week to let us know if he was interested shelling out some cash for him.
I was still sitting on Chocky, and, as I swung my leg around to dismount, Tim was there to help me down, as always, only, this time, it felt quite different as I slid down his thin body. I looked up at him shyly as he released me, and, he turned to my mother to offer his services as a chauffer that evening, after I cleaned Chocky up and put him away. My mother hesitated, then consented (this surprised me), with the stipulation that I get home soon, as I had school the next day. I was thrilled! And, I was scared. My mother left right away, and, the others had long since left the barn. It was just Tim, me, and, the horses. It was with a strange, somewhat detached, sense of excitement that I unsaddled Chocky and brushed him off. For the moment, the prospect of Chocky going away, forever, was far from my thoughts, and, I experienced the next hour as if I was watching it on television, or, in a movie. As soon as Chocky was in his stall, I was in Tim’s arms. “Where’s Wayne?” I whispered. “Don’t know,” he replied, as he covered my mouth with his. “Yer ‘bout to get raped,” he murmured, picking me up. “Really?” I asked, breathlessly. I meant to sound sarcastic; however, it came out sounding young, nervous and excited, which I suppose I was. “Where are JD and Doug?” I whispered. “In my trailer,” he replied, carrying me toward that trailer. I wondered how we were going to get by JD and Doug, but, was afraid to ask. He didn’t seem in a very talkative mood. I got my answer as we passed them in the living room. “Time constraints,” Tim said casually, flashing them a smile as we sped by them, down the hall, into the bedroom. He stood me on his bed, so that I met him eye to eye, and, had me topless in seconds. As his mouth moved to my breast, I could think only of Doug and JD, right outside. “I can’t!” I whispered, feeling a terrible shame as I pushed his head away. He looked at me. “You can’t what?” he wanted to know, sounding vaguely…irritated. “I can’t do this, with them out there,” I grated out. I felt like a failure. I stood before him, bare breasted, not trying to cover myself, yet, embarrassed that his friends were right outside. Who can know what makes the teenaged mind work? Who can know? Apparently, my poor cowboy did not. He was not in the know. “How is this different from last night?” he wondered, sounding incredulous. I didn’t know. So, I stood there, topless, in the chill of his bedroom, without a single thing to say. I wanted, more than anything, for him to think I was mature. Instead, I felt like a baby. “Well, hell, Darlin’, you was drunk last night! You ain’t, now, less you and your mom were chuggin’ some beer on the way up here.” He grinned, looking at my breasts. “Well, shoot. I don’t think I can take you home without some more of that lovin’ you gave me last night.” He handed me my shirt, which I hurriedly put on, then scooped me back up in his arms. We passed JD and Doug, again, who were looking at us strangely. “She’s shy,” Tim explained, and, we left them, sitting on the sofa together, with their beer.
I said, into his neck, “Did you have to tell them that?” He chuckled, and, I asked if he could please put me down. He did, and, grabbed my hand. He looked at me for a moment. In the moonlight, I couldn’t read his expression. “What are we going to do?” Still holding my hand, he began to march decisively toward the mare barn, which was down over the hill. “Won’t Wayne find us, down here?” I whispered, as we entered the darkness of the barn. I could hear the mares, munching the remnants of their alfalfa dinners. “Don’t care at the moment,” he said, quickly removing his shirt and placing it on top of a stack of alfalfa bales. He then removed my jeans, which he simply tugged down over my hips, without unbuttoning them, and, then had a bit of a struggle with my boots. He then sat me down atop his shirt. After some time, I forgot about the scratchy hay digging into my backside.
On the way home, Tim didn’t volunteer anything more about Wayne, and, I had long since lost my nerve to ask. He was quiet, and, seemed to be deep in thought, though he occasionally, nuzzled my neck or squeezed my leg. I could see the glitter of his eyes in the moonlight as he watched the road ahead, but, could not fathom what he was thinking.
He got out and walked me to the door, and, I was half afraid he’d come in. He didn’t, and simply planted a quick kiss on my mouth and patted my bottom before striding back toward his pickup truck.
So, I entered my folks’ little home, still uncertain as to my immediate future with this cowboy. He certainly hadn’t seemed terribly worried about Wayne tonight. He had molested me in the barn, where anyone could have seen us, carried me to his trailer, in full view of Wayne’s house, then, back out again…and had made love to me in the dark, on a bale of scratchy hay.
Though it was a school night, I was out later than usual, and, still needed to walk my little dog, who was, as always, soooo very glad to see me. He did not understand why I continued to leave him behind. I didn’t really understand, either, and, my heart ached for him, in that moment. No cowboy was ever going to love me like my Zippy did, yet, I so quickly left Zippy behind, at the slightest nod from that cowboy.
Despite the stern look from my mother, Zippy and I disappeared into the night. I hoped she would be in bed when we returned.
I knew my mother didn’t really care about my school work—she never had. It was always about the horses. Had I been out that late simply riding a horse for someone, it would not have mattered to her. I missed countless days of school because of horse shows, had no time for homework because of chores, or, jobs within the horse community. It had been this way since I was nine. And, I wasn’t doing well in school, academically, or, socially. I had a single friend, who wasn’t truly a friend, just someone I partied with, and, skipped school with. Each day at school was like torture, for me. I was an outcast, an outsider. Even the faculty disliked me. So, as I walked Zippy around the neighborhood, under the street lights, I was filled with many conflicting emotions. Thinking of my cowboy, and, the things he had done to me…made me weak and breathless, but, I also suffered stabs of panic, thinking of what may come. Would he decide I was too much trouble? I wasn’t sophisticated enough? Would he be forbidden to see me? Would he move away? And, then, there was school, tomorrow, and, at that thought, the inevitable dread.
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