Undemanding Contact/Eighteen

The rest of the week, while Tim was in New Mexico, I was forced to live the reality of my teenaged life. I went to school, with its polished hallways that smelled of bleach, feeling very much like an alien dropped onto some bizarre planet, and, forced to adhere to alien customs without any instruction, might feel. As I walked among Them, it seemed as if They were all one voice, which I could hear, but, not understand. It should have been easier, with the Last Day of School approaching, however, it was not. There was a shared energy; a shared sense of excitement and camaraderie—only, it was not shared with me. Seeing Doug’s familiar face, here and there, in those halls, helped some. At least there was a familiar soul in the sea of faces I could relate to, now and again.

On Friday evening, Zippy, my little sheltie, and I were invited to spend the weekend with my friend Kathy and her family.
Kathy was ten or so years older than myself, however, we shared many interests, and had been very good friends for several years. I’d met Kathy, of course, through the horses business. We’d spent several years traveling to horseshows together, and, I often worked at her folks’ farm for free loads of hay, and, for the expense of hauling to the shows. Often, just for fun, as well. Kathy was also Chocky’s owner. I had also lived with the family as recently as the previous summer and fall, when my family was still living in Minnesota, and, even had my own room(with bright lavender shag carpeting) in the great old farmhouse. Kathy was from a large, close knit Polish family, and, they had a lovely spread just south of town. They lived in a beautifully restored farmhouse which sat on a few hundred acres of lush farmland.
Zippy also loved spending time at Kathy’s. In residence were chickens, goats, donkeys, rabbits, cats, dogs, and, of course, horses. Zippy loooooved to chase the goats and chickens, as well as his girlfriend, a lovely Australian Shepherd/Catahoula mix named Martha. He also loved to chase the horses, which, of course, got him in BIG trouble. Throughout a day at Kathy’s, one could hear, “ZIP!!!,” being screamed by various voices with a fair amount of regularity.

Kathy’s dad was in the process of building Kathy and I an indoor arena, and, needed help with the construction; so, Zippy and I were invited to spend the weekend. I was happy to get away from my family. The environment at Kathy’s was soothing, for me, and, had always been a great comfort. It had been so for many years, and, it seemed that it offered the same to many others. There seemed to be some comfort to be found in simple hard work, and, fortunately for this family, around harvest time, or, whenever there was work to be done, there were many who sought comfort there. Kathy’s farm had become a local hangout for many of the horse set. Kathy’s mother, Virginia, loved to cook in her lovely old kitchen, and, drop ins were always welcome, there. It was not unusual to see the tiny Virginia surrounded by a group of large, raucous cowboys, waiting to be fed, while listening to very loud polka music!
It was in this environment that I developed my first friendships, as a youth. I had met Frank and Doug through Kathy, and, the four of us spent a great deal of time together, though they were all ten or more years older than I. Frank and Doug, along with Kathy’s family, had helped me through a very difficult childhood.
So, Friday, Saturday and Sunday were not so terrible, after all. We rose early in the mornings, spent the days working hard and riding, then, the evenings were spent eating Virginia’s cooking, playing cards, having cocktails and watching television.
Though I found myself thinking about Tim with a fluttering heart and weakened knees about every hour, on the hour, Zippy and I managed to have a good time, and, to fit back in with the little world that we were so familiar with. I didn’t talk about Tim with my friends; the world Tim had created for he and I did not really fit with my other worlds, and, it seemed wise to keep them separate. What he and I shared was so very intimate that it seemed truly a world apart from what I shared with any other living being. I believe I also feared the disapproval of my friends, somehow. I had, up to this point, been a hardworking, straight laced kid. I hadn’t done the things that most teenagers do, such as talk on the phone(I had no one to talk to), go to the mall, go to parties, and, as far as they all knew, I missed out on the terribly humiliating Boy Crazy phase, likely because I had no teenaged peer group.

And, so it was that Kathy, Virginia, Zippy, Kathy’s dad, Doug and Frank and I were all sitting around the kitchen table, enjoying the lovely spring breeze as it wafted through the open windows and lifted the old lace curtains, late Sunday afternoon, when the telephone rang. Kathy’s dad, Irwin, answered the phone, and, I could hear him asking loudly, in his heavy Polish accent, “Who is Dis? Tim who? You gotta speak up!! “I heard," Tim," and, it felt like butterflies had all at once escaped their cocoons and were leaving my chest and flying all the way down to my toes. I looked at the others, dismayed and embarrassed. And the Polka music blared all around us. Then, I heard Kathy’s dad asking, “What do you want with little Michele? Who are you?” Then, “Boyfriend? She not having a boyfriend, yet!” We all laughed, then, and, I must admit that, through the unsettling haze of excitement, confusion and dismay, I rather enjoyed the excruciating discomfort Tim was clearly experiencing at the moment. I made no effort to intercede, but, sat with my friends as we exchanged giggles. No phone call to my parents' home had ever been so difficult for Tim.
Eventually, Irwin handed me the phone in disgust, muttering, “I don’t know why he calling when I can’t understand a word he is saying! He says he wants to be your boyfriend!” Amid the hysterical laughter at the table, I took the phone from Irwin, and, said, breathlessly, “Hello?” Tim’s voice, so soft, was very hard to hear on the phone, so, I covered my other ear and darted into the bathroom, closing the door behind me over the telephone chord. “Tim, can you repeat that? I couldn’t hear you,” I said, and, winced at the sound of my shaking, breathless voice. “I been trying to find you all day! Your sister gave me the number over there,” he said, sounding…annoyed. “I’m sorry,” I said simply. I tried to imagine what THAT conversation must have been like. My sister was one of few seven year olds I knew that truly understood the concept of irony, and, sarcasm. In fact, she may very well have been the only seven year old I knew capable of such wit. Tim was a favorite target for her. “I have to see you,” he went on to say. Oh. I didn’t know how to respond, exactly. There were no parents here to ask, though I suspected Irwin might give me some trouble, were I to announce I was leaving. And, there was something else. “Tim…I don’t know if I’m going to be much good to you, tonight,” I said haltingly. There was a moment of silence on the other end. “Well, we ain’t goin’ to work. Are ye sick?” He wanted to know. “No….” I said, unable to go on. “Ye got homework?” I did, but, who cared, at this point? “No…” I said. “Not in the mood to see me?” He asked his voice barely audible. “No, it’s not that!” I said quickly. “I can see you, we just can’t…you know…””Go roller skating?” he said, and, I could hear laughter in that soft voice. “Roller skating?” I said, stupidly, and then laughed, as I got a clear visual image of Tim on roller skates. “No…I mean we can’t do anything naked,” I whispered nervously. “You don’t wanna go roller skatin naked?” He asked in disbelief. “How about we go to the movies, naked, instead,” He said, cheerfully. I giggled helplessly at the thought. Tim was so tall, and, was he to roller skate, or, attend a movie, with no clothing on, you wouldn’t be able to miss him. Of course, I pictured all of this with him wearing his sneakers and spurs…when he didn’t have the roller skates on.
“No...” I managed to squeak out, in between giggles. “Are you tryin’ to tell me that ye be menstruatin’?” He finally said, very softly. Relief, along with acute embarrassment, left me momentarily speechless. As a matter of fact, that is precisely what I had been trying to convey. I didn’t want him picking me up, expecting the usual…only to be disappointed. I couldn’t imagine that he’d want to spend time with me, not being able to do that, since that seemed to be what he most wanted to do, and, I wanted to give him fair warning. “Yes,” I said softly, suddenly serious, and, horribly embarrassed. “Aw Darlin’, now, why didn’t you just say that right off, instead of makin' me go through all that guesswork?” He wanted to know. “I don’t know. How was I supposed to say it?” I said, honestly as my shame threatened to swallow me up. Tim said softly, “How about: Tim, I got my period, and, I don’t wanna make love tonight, but, we can go to dinner and see a movie?” Tim uttering the word, “period,” and, trying to imitate my voice, did make me laugh a little, though, somewhat nervously. Meanwhile, I could hear the Polka music playing through the bathroom door. I wondered if he could, as well. He added, “Hell, that’s good news, ain’t it?” I supposed it was, but, was still uncertain as to why he’d want to see me. “I’ll be over there to pick ye up in an hour,” He said energetically, then added, hopefully, “Can ye be outside, waitin’ for me?” I giggled, understanding his fear. “No, you’re going to have to come in and get me,” I said, reluctantly. I knew that anything else would be unacceptable to Irwin and the others. “Damn!” He exclaimed, and, hung up.

I hurriedly showered, and, then, Frank wanted to curl my hair for me. “We don’t have time!” I exclaimed, nervously. “Oh, relax! “ Frank said in disgust. It really wasn’t like me to get so worked up over a man, and, I was suddenly ashamed of myself. Frank did a lovely job on my hair, and, I was thrilled with how I looked as I preened in the mirror. I didn’t have my makeup with me, however, I only ever wore eye makeup, never blush, foundation or lipstick, anyhow, and, Kathy did have some mascara and a valuable eyelash curler, which I made quick use of. “You look stunning!!” Frank exclaimed dramatically, drawing Doug and Kathy into the doorway to view his handy work. They were impressed with Frank’s efforts. “What are you going to wear?” Frank wanted to know. The clothing I had on, at the moment, was my last set of clean clothing, but, had been packed for wear at the barn, not for a date. I shrugged. Tim was used to seeing me in barn clothes. “I’ve got something you can wear!” Kathy said, and, ran upstairs to her bedroom. She returned with something draped over her arm. It was a pink sundress!! I looked at her, gratefully, and, pushed Frank out of the bathroom so that I could put it on. Though Kathy was a size 5, and, I a 3 or less(it was often difficult to find anything smaller than a size 3, in those days, so, many of my clothes were baggy) we were of the same height, and the dress fit perfectly!! It was a halter dress, and, the hem fell to about mid thigh. I was so excited! I don’t think Tim had ever seen me in a dress before, and, it had been some time since he’d seen me with my hair down, and curled!

I will always remember that date with Tim simply for the pure pleasure I felt in preparing, there with my friends, in the lovely white farmhouse, with its smell of old wood and garlic. It was so nice to be surrounded by friends and, to do…girly things, such as sharing clothing, having my hair curled. It didn’t matter that not all of my friends were…girls. And, I was suddenly filled with gratitude that, despite the ribbing I had received over Tim’s call, my friends had not only embraced the occasion of A Date, but, had helped to make the whole experience so lovely.

We’d opened up the windows in the house, that morning, to let in the lovely spring air, and, it was through those opened windows that we heard the sound of Tim’s pickup truck crunching up the gravel drive. The butterflies threatened to carry me off, and, my knees were so weak at the very sound of his pickup, I could hardly stand. I wondered if he noticed the curtain being pulled aside as four curious faces (Virginia, Irwin, Doug and Frank) peered at him through the kitchen window. Before Tim had a chance to knock and get the dogs barking, I opened the door and motioned for him to come up the stairs and into the kitchen. Irwin was the first to greet him, sticking out a square hand and introducing himself. As Tim shook Irwin’s large, hand, I couldn’t help but notice that the top of Irwin’s shiny bald head came to right about the middle of Tim’s chest, and, I giggled. Tim glanced at me, his eyes very bright, then, he simply stared. I had forgotten my dress and hair, for a moment, and, now, I was very self conscious, and, wished he would look away. Though I was used to his eyes upon me, this was a very different setting, and, the intimacy in that gaze was clearly visible in the tiny kitchen. I couldn’t bear the thought of my friends knowing that Tim knew me as intimately as his gaze clearly suggested.
Frank broke the silence smoothly, “Doesn’t she look beautiful? I insisted she let me curl her hair!!” Tim looked at Frank a bit oddly, then, and, I giggled again. I suppose it must have seemed strange to him, at the time, that a six foot two man who looked like Tom Selleck had done my hair for the evening. Tim’s bright gaze dropped to my feet, and, he teasingly expressed concern that I may not be allowed into the restaurant or theater with bare feet. I flushed. In my excitement, I had forgotten shoes!!! I went upstairs, where I was sure I had a pair of flip flops stashed, and, when I returned, it turned out that Irwin was not finished with poor Tim. Tim was experiencing what I can only describe as social agony at the kitchen table, with a brand new beer in front of him, and, a sweaty, bald Polish man sitting across from him. Irwin was quizzing Tim about where he came from (Texas), what he did for a living (trained horses), what his dad did (trained horses), what his plans for the evening were (dinner and a movie—Coal Miner’s Daughter), and, the loud Polka music played on. In fact, the music was so loud that Irwin shouted every word. I had gotten used to this. The entire family shouted every word they uttered. They were an odd contrast to Tim's soft spoken nature.
During the interrogation, I noticed Tim gulping his beer down much faster than I’d ever seen him drink before. I caught his eye just as he was wiping his mouth with his sleeve, and, he didn’t look horribly pleased with me. “Will you keep Zippy for me tonight?” I asked Irwin, hurriedly, trying to rescue Tim with the distraction. I was also aware of Virginia, who looked about ready to ask Tim to dinner… I moved to stand next to Tim at the table, my hip brushing against his thin arm. He looked sideways at me and stood, abruptly throwing an arm over my shoulders. “Time for us to git!” He said, thanking Irwin for the beer. His excitement over leaving was so apparent that Zippy, realizing that I was leaving, went into commando dog mode and began attacking Tim’s feet. It was just something that Zippy did whenever anyone tried to take me away from him, however, in this case, there were several other dogs joining in the game. A great deal of yapping and growling ensued, while the Polka music played on…

Tim climbed into the pickup (scrambled, really, after nearly tossing me inside—guess he was in a terrible hurry to leave), after me, and, he kissed me immediately. It was quite a kiss, and, it left me breathless. I wondered if the faces from the kitchen were peeking out the window, but, I resisted looking. I could not hide my happiness as I looked at Tim, and, he grinned back at me. “Well, that was interesting!” He said diplomatically. I giggled. “They mean well, and, I love them,” I said softly. “No matter how many times I see him, I just can’t get over the fact that yer best girlfriend has a five o’clock shadow,” He said, shaking his head in amazement. He then took the opportunity to look me over thoroughly—so thoroughly that I blushed. “Damn if you ain’t the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Damn! You look like you oughta be on a magazine cover, or, on TV, or, somethin’. Not riding around in this old rusty pickup with this old rusty cowboy,” I blushed again, with pleasure, and, some embarrassment over our conversation prior to his arrival. Unfortunately, sitting there, in the late afternoon spring sunlight, so close to him, and, subjected to his close scrutiny, I could not help but be reminded of just how intimately he knew my body, and, of what I’d been forced to reveal to him, earlier. I was suddenly almost paralyzed with awkwardness. He bent down to kiss me again, before my happy gaze fell to my lap, and, then he started up his pickup truck.

Half way through dinner, which we had at a restaurant in the city (there were no movie theaters in our little town, so, we drove into the city for dinner before the movie), my menstrual woes began in earnest, and, I became more and more uncomfortable. I had sooooo hoped I might be spared, just for this one night. Tim made no comment as I swallowed a pill Kathy had given me to combat my cramps.
During the movie (Coal Miner’s Daughter) things went down hill, so that I could barely contain my moans of pain. And, it didn’t help that there were scenes in the movie that embarrassed me, horribly. I gave up even trying to look at Tim at all, and, stared straight forward, at the movie screen, for the entire film. I was also concerned because, during a previous conversation, Tim had expressed frustration with women who talked through movies. We had been to see another film where there were several women in the theater who were having conversations loud enough to drown out some of the dialogue in the film. I didn’t want to be one of those women. And, truthfully, I’d had so little dating experience that I just didn’t know how one was supposed to conduct oneself while watching a movie with a beau. I’d heard all about how one should conduct oneself at a drive-in, however, we were not at a drive in. So, I sat painfully on the edge of my chair, leaning forward stiffly, throughout the film.
After the film, we stepped out of the theater into the spring evening. It seemed starkly quiet, outside, after being in the loudness of the theater. As was typical, for Nebraska, there was a strong wind, which ruffled our hair and brought with it the smells of the city, which differed markedly from the smells of our little town. Tim asked, “You okay, Darlin’?” “Yep!” I said quickly, but, almost doubled over immediately following my proclamation, and, my face contorted with pain, despite my efforts to control myself. “Shit, you shoulda’ jes told me you weren’t up to goin’ out, Darlin’! Holy Smokes, you are the most peculiar female!”” Tim said, sounding exasperated, as he bent down in his customary manner to pick me up. He carried me all the way back to his pickup truck. I wondered what the folks we passed by on the way thought of us, the tall, thin cowboy, carrying a very young looking girl in his arms. My purse flapped rhythmically from my elbow as we walked, and, made a swooshing sound, which I found oddly humorous, suddenly. I giggled into the wind, feeling ridiculous in that moment.
When we got into the pickup, I said, softly, “I wanted to see you.” My eyes were on my hands, which were in my lap. I still could not look at him. And, just for good measure, in case he was having second thoughts about coming to pick me up, I reminded him, “I told you I wouldn’t be much good to you, tonight.”
He glanced down at me for a second, as he turned to see if there were any cars coming so that he could back the truck out. Ignoring what I had said, he asked, “Yer folks expectin’ you home tonight?” “Yes,” I said, generally ashamed of myself in that moment. “What’s the curfew?” He wanted to know. “Midnight,” I replied.
On the way home (I wasn’t sure where, “home,” might be, however), we did discuss the movie, which we both enjoyed, despite my own silent suffering. We pulled up in front of Tim’s tiny house, which was all dark, and, Tim helped me out of the pickup. As I stepped down, he exclaimed, “Holy Smokes!” and I saw him looking at my legs. He bent down and lifted up the hem of my dress, and, in the moonlight, could clearly see the dark liquid running down from my thighs. He then peeked behind me. I turned and looked, as well, and, I noted that the seat of his truck, where I’d been sitting next to him, was covered with something dark. I backed away from Tim in horror, leaning against the opened door of the pickup. He reached for me, but, I brushed his hands away. Humiliated, I was very close to tears, at the moment, and, feared I may break down if he touched me. I thought of my pretty borrowed dress, and, of Tim’s truck. “Is that normal, Darlin’?” He asked me, very gently. I nodded, looking down at my feet. I watched the dark liquid run down my ankle and onto my flip flop. “Holy Smokes!” He said, again, and, scooped me, purse and all, into his arms. His long, quick strides carried me to the little dark house, and, he flipped the switch just inside the kitchen door to flood the space with warm, golden light. As he took in my appearance, I shrank before him in shame, wishing that, somehow, the earth would just swallow me up. I did not know what to do. I stood frozen as the blood began to drip onto the floor. “Jesus! Darlin’, you SURE that’s normal? Should I take ye to the doctor? Holy Smokes!” He exclaimed, again, and fled to the bathroom, returning with a couple of towels. “You got any…tampons in that purse?” I nodded painfully. He was going through my purse, now, and, triumphantly, pulled out two giant maxi pads, which I had hidden at the bottom for just such an occasion. My backup plan. Trouble was, I was so excited about being with him, I had forgotten to use them. “Those aren’t tampons,” I said bizarrely. He ignored me, and, ushered me into the bathroom. “I just cleaned out the tub today. I got some of yer panties in my drawer, and, I got a pair of shorts ye can put on,” He said, reaching around me to start the water. I stood in front of the tub, staring down at its odd green tile, listening to the sound of the water running, unable to move. There was a trail of blood from the kitchen to where I stood. Seeing that I wasn’t making a move to undress, Tim very patiently untied my dress and pulled it off, over my head. Very softly, he prompted, “Why don’t you do what you gotta do, while I go wipe up the floor.” He left the door open.
I sank down into the warm water while it was still running. The loud splashing echoed in the small room, creating a sort of…sonic cocoon. I was comforted by it. Tim returned after a few minutes with a pair of gym shorts (I had a difficult time imagining Tim wearing them), a flannel shirt, and, the underwear he must have retrieved from his drawer. I still could not look at him, but, murmured, “Thank you,” awkwardly from my green cocoon. He then sat on the toilet, and, handed me Big Red. I looked at him, then; the beginnings of a smile were tugging at my cheeks. I had never done a bong hit in the bathtub before. I had never done a bong hit, in a bathtub, while naked, with a cowboy sitting on a toilet, watching me. He then handed me a beer, which I guzzled, getting it about a fourth of the way down. He whistled, impressed. I handed that back to him, while I sampled another offering from old Big Red. When I handed the bong back to him, I noticed he was staring at my breasts, which were glistening with beads of water. At least my menstrual disaster had not completely changed the way My Cowboy looked at me. I found some comfort, there, in that thought. “Gonna be okay?” He asked, gently. I nodded. I thought perhaps I was, incredibly. “Sure ye don’t need to go to the doctor?” He wanted to make sure. “I’m sure,” I said, smiling up at him. I was still embarrassed. In fact, I was certain that this would count as a PERMANENT loss of dignity, as opposed to the many MOMENTARY losses of dignity I had suffered in the presence of this man. And, it clearly trumped his momentary losses of dignity at the hands of my Polish family. I believed it even beat out the Polka music, playing stridently in the background. I actually giggled, then. “What’s so funny?” He wanted to know. “You and Irwin, and, the Polka music,” I said honestly. He grinned. I added, “I was just thinking that my little disaster definitely beats out your meeting with Irwin. What you had was a MOMENTARY loss of dignity. What I am suffering is a PERMANENT loss of dignity. I trump you.” He laughed, then, quite heartily. I don’t think I’d ever heard him laugh like that before. I laughed, as well, not caring, suddenly, that I was naked, that I had dripped blood all over his hardwood floors, that I had bled all over the seat of his truck…I didn’t care. And, my cramps were going away. He handed me the beer, which I guzzled between giggles, then Big Red again. By the time I climbed out of the tub, I was feeling warm and fuzzy, and, relatively pain free.
Tim helped me to dry off and get dressed, though parts of the dressing were a bit awkward, due to my condition. He seemed to want to be involved, however, so, I stifled my humiliation and let him help me. When I was warm and dry and clean, and, safely dressed, he took me into his arms and whispered that he didn’t want to take me home, and, urged me to call Frank(my best girlfriend; the one with the five o’clock shadow) to make a plan. Frank was cooperative, and, I called and told my dad I was spending the night with Frank, and, that Zippy was at Kathy’s. Frank would take me to work in the morning, and, Tim would pick me up from there and take me to school. When it was all settled, the complicated lying and planning, it was just the two of us, alone in his little house, with my shame floating around us like the seeds of a cottonwood tree on a summer’s day.
I wondered why he wanted me to stay. Sex was out of the question. I had never said no to him before, and, hoped I didn’t have to, tonight. I feared disappointing him. But, I could think of no other reason he’d want to waste a good lie on this particular evening. In the life of a teenager, successful schemes which involved lying were complicated and valuable. You never knew when you were going to be able to pull such a thing off without being caught. No doubt there were more lies in our future.
I also had another concern. From my position, with my head smushed into Tim’s chest, I voiced The Concern. “I have to go to the store.” Tim pulled away from me, and, lifted my face up so that he could look at me. “The store? Now?” He looked very slightly alarmed. “What do ye need at the store?” He wanted to know. “I just need to go,” I said, unable to elaborate while staring into those blue eyes. He sighed. “Okie Dokie,” he said, cheerfully.

We made our way out through the darkness to his pickup. When he opened the door, the light came on, and, I saw the large red stain on the grey upholstery. “Shit,” Tim said, then whispered, “Wait here, Darlin’.” He jogged on long legs back into the little house, and, returned, triumphant, with a towel under his arm. “This is the last clean towel. I hope Jerry ain’t comin’ home before I can get to the Laundromat, else he’s goin’ to be usin’ paper towels to dry off with!” He said, with a grin. He placed the towel on the seat of the pickup, and, held it in place as I climbed in. I winced with renewed shame, and, thought again of the lovely borrowed dress that now lie ruined, somewhere in Tim’s home.

We went all the way back into the city, as there was a risk of running into someone from my family, or, someone who knew my family, at the local convenient store. I, of course, had no money…and asked Tim, on our way into the grocery store, “Have you got some dough?” “I surely do, Darlin’,” He said, good naturedly. He was being surprisingly kind about this whole thing.
With exquisite embarrassment, I managed the maze of the grocery store and made my way back to the feminine hygiene section, with my tall cowboy following closely behind. It was all rather hazy, and, wonderful, in a strange, marijuana/beer induced way, but I wondered how on earth I was going to survive the retrieval of my item off of the shelf, and, the Horror of The Checkout. Buying these items was always agonizing for me, but buying them with a male witness, a male witness I was sleeping with, was impossible. I looked up at Tim uncertainly as I made my selection. He stood with his hands in his front pockets, looking with what appeared suspiciously like wonder at the colorful array of boxes on the shelf. He glanced at me, then, and grinned. I blushed as he reached for the package I selected.
We bought food, as well. There is something about wandering the isles of grocery stores, at night, with the vaguely familiar instrumental copies of popular tunes playing overhead, after an evening of smoking marijuana that makes one very hungry. We were hungry, after all. And, we bought a few toiletry items for me. Tim had decided that our frequent stops to my folks’ condo for the purposes of my hygiene too risky, and, that it would be better if we didn’t have to stop there so often. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that the real reason I wanted to stop there so often was to check in on my little Zippy, who, for the first time in his young life, was being left in the dust for the attentions of this cowboy.

We managed the Horror of The Checkout. The horror was intense, certainly; however, we survived, and, before long, were making our way back into Tim’s little home. We turned the radio up loud, and, set about tearing open our packages of food. We were both craving nachos—the kind with the spicy liquefied cheese that one typically finds at ball games. I dumped a whole can of the jalapeños we’d purchased into the pot of cheese I had warming on the stovetop, and, Tim watched me from his chair at the table, and we both sang along with the radio, which was playing Lynrd Skynrd’s Simple Man.

The front of Tim’s home, which was where the kitchen was located, was all windows, which had been removed, leaving only the screens. The warm spring air wafted in, through them, bringing with it the smell of the horses from the barns outside, and, the fresh smell of young alfalfa. We sat at the table, eating our nachos and washing them down with beer. I half expected to hear footsteps on the path, since we were so often interrupted, but the only sound from outside came from the frogs and insects who called repetitively for their mates in the night. And, the sound of our strong young teeth crunching away on our nachos, while our voices hummed along to the radio, filled the kitchen. I giggled through my crunching, and, glanced quickly at Tim, who was also happily crunching away.
Our feeding frenzy over, Tim and I stared across the table at each other. Additional beer had helped keep my cramps at bay, and, also, my humiliation. I found myself looking into Tim’s bright eyes with diminished shame, though I don’t think I could have defined just what it was I was feeling in that moment. A little fear, perhaps; fear that came with the realization that I was truly alone with this young man, for the entire evening. I was uncertain as to what to expect from him. I still couldn’t fathom why he wanted me to spend the night. I wondered if he expected sex, and, I wondered how on earth I would manage it, if he did. And, if not sex, what? I was spending the whole night there. I assumed we would be sharing the bed. I was a light sleeper. In fact, I didn’t sleep much at all, even in my own bed. I tried to imagine lying awake next to Tim for the entire night. Would I try not to disturb his sleep, and, be careful not to touch him? I closed my eyes, trying to shut out my racing thoughts. “You hurtin’ again?” Tim wanted to know. I shook my head, and said shyly, “It’s not too bad right now.” “You go through that every month?” He asked softly. I nodded. “Damn, girl!! I can’t believe that’s normal for you, and, you never say nothin’ about it, or, ever call in sick!” He said in wonder. I smiled at him, strangely appreciative of his observation. Acknowledging illness of any kind was considered a weakness in my family, and, being raised in such an environment had schooled me to take pride in my toughness. The stakes were very high in my family. Complaining of, or, even admitting to, a physical disability of any kind could very well get you a beating in my home (when my father wasn’t around), so that stoicism had become second nature to me. It was all about self control. I hadn’t cried in front of another human being since after around the age of four. And, all of this wasn’t something I could really boast about, to anyone, because the very act of boasting would be like an admission to the fact that I actually felt a weakness of some sort; that I actually felt pain, or, wanted to cry. And, he would never understand that the very reality that I menstruated was a weakness, to my way of thinking, therefore, humiliating on a number of levels. And, I had no way of knowing, back then, that what I went through was any different than what every other woman went through, every month. So, I took some pleasure in the fact that he had taken notice of my perceived strength, though the cost of him taking notice had been the loss of a great deal of dignity, on my part.

But, sitting there, at the tiny Formica table with the silver legs in the golden light of Tim’s little kitchen, I knew that I would not, could not, admit any of this to Tim. Instead, I took the moment to ask him about the show he’d been to, and, about how he’d done at the show. He had, not surprisingly, done very well, especially with Lady in roping. In fact, he and Lady had cleaned up! I tried hard not to think about what else may have happened in New Mexico. As if reading my thoughts, he admitted, “I missed you, Darlin’! That’s why I had to see you right away. I’ve gottin’ used to havin’ you around.” This was a strange admission, and, I didn’t know how to respond. He missed me? I said, sounding as cynical as I could, “Well, no doubt you missed getting laid three times a day.” “Now, here I go, tryin’ to say somethin’ nice, and, ye gotta go ruin it all by gettin’ all owly on me!” He exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air dramatically. I flushed, realizing, then, that I’d made a misstep. I thought he’d be impressed by my cynicism and notice how grown up I sounded. Also, prompting my, “owlyness,” was my concern over what he may have been doing, besides showing horses, in New Mexico. I couldn’t seem to keep those thoughts at bay.
He yawned hugely and stood. “Time for bed, Darlin’,” he said softly, seeming to dismiss my earlier outburst, and, took my hand. I went into the bathroom and made use of the newly purchased toiletry items, then joined Tim in the bedroom, where, despite my protests, he removed my clothing, so that I wore only my underwear. To avoid his gaze, I looked around the room, which was still brightly lit, and, noticed some plastic baggies filled with different colored pills on his dresser. “What are those for?” I wondered aloud.
“Ah, Darlin’, I got some trouble sleepin’, so, I got me some valium, “He said, matter of factly. As we climbed into bed, I asked him, “Did you take valium tonight?” “Nope!” he answered quickly, “The last time I spent the night with you, I slept like a damned baby!”
I didn’t know whether to be insulted, or, gratified by this proclamation.

As we lay in bed, in the dark, in my favorite position (which Tim had told me was called, “spooning,”), Tim whispered in my ear, “Now, tell me why you don’t like horse trainers.” Ah. I had hoped he had forgotten about that. I was quiet for a moment as his hand cupped my breast. I didn’t know how to respond to this question, as I didn’t really know the answer, myself. It was something I had likely said in haste, to a friend, or, perhaps a group of friends, which clearly had included Chris. I don’t know that I had really put a great deal of thought into it. I supposed, in a way, I may have meant it. I was anxious to create a new reality for myself; a new identity, which included something far away from the horse business. I may have felt, at the time, that dating someone outside of the horse business would be like attaching myself to someone who lived a different reality than I did. At the time, though, on that night, I wasn’t certain why I had made that statement, and, I didn’t know what to say to the man whose pelvic region my bottom was currently tucked so neatly into. I decided to lie, just a little, hoping it would satisfy his curiosity, “Well, you all move around so much. I don’t want to get attached to someone who’ll be in another state in a year.” I felt his open mouth on my neck, and, something else, pushing against my bottom. Oh, dear. “Well, that’s pretty smart thinkin’, cowgirl,” he said softly, against my neck, which he then nuzzled. I then felt his hands move to my breasts. Oh dear!! “Tim,” I said softly. “Yeah Darlin’,” he said, his voice sounding strangely hoarse. “Remember, I can’t do the sex thing,” I said nervously. His hands paused their exploration of my breasts for a moment, and, he said hoarsely, “So, when? When will yer period be over?” “Well, it’ll be less…gross…tomorrow,” I said encouragingly. “Then I’m pickin’ you up from school tomorrow,” He said energetically. I giggled at the sound of his voice. He sounded so…pained, and, it thrilled me, strangely. “What’s so funny?” He wanted to know. “You!” I exclaimed between giggles. “You sound so helpless, or something,” I added. “I’ll be okay.” He said, sounding forlorn. “Shell?” He continued,”Can you do me a favor? Next time you decide to get all fancy and wear a dress, can you do it when you ain’t on yer period?” I giggled again. Hearing him say, “Period,” would never get old, it seemed. “Tim?” I said. “Yeah, Darlin’,” He answered.
“I love it when you say, ‘period,” I announced with a giggle. “And, tampon.” He sighed into my ear. “I think I’ve got a drunken teenager on my hands…or, in my hands,” he murmured, as his hands continued their warm exploration of my breasts. “Well, don’t I say anything that makes you laugh?” I wanted to know. He was quiet for a moment, then replied softly, “Well, you always use real good English, and, sometimes, it makes me laugh when yer sittin' with a bunch of us old cowboys talkin’ like that. And, I laugh just about every time I think about The Sheath. Shoot, just about every time I take a piss, I crack up.” “Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh, why did you have to bring THAT up??? Oooooooooooooh, when I think of that, I want to die!!” I exclaimed dramatically. “See? You gotta be careful what you ask,” he said, chuckling. “And, then there’s the fact that you thought having yer period was bein’ in season. Hell, if that were true, you’d never get knocked up!” He added for good measure. I put my hands over my ears, then, said, over and over in a sing song voice, “La la la la la la la!” He said, laughingly, “Okay sweetheart, I’ll quit torturin’ you, for now.”

We fell asleep, a bit later, both of us. Tim’s body, curved so warmly around the back of me, made me feel safe in a way I wasn’t used to, and, though I felt little twinges of apprehension periodically, I found comfort in the closeness. I felt safe, there in the dark, with his sleeping hands still clutching my breasts. Evidently, he found some comfort in holding my body close, as well, for he drifted off to sleep long before I did, and, I lay there, listening to his soft, even breathing, so close to my ear, for quite some time before I was aware no more.