Page 6 of The Texas Sterling Collection
I stood to leave, gathered my things, and headed for the door. “Thanks, Rod.”
“If you’re not up to talking with your other friends, I can be an independent, unrelated, third-party sounding board.”
I paused in the doorway. “I don’t have any other friends, Rod.” I turned to leave, but Rod stood beside me in a flash, hand on my arm.
“What do you mean?” He let go.
I put on my hat. “You have a class to prepare for.”
“Wyl?” His voice pleaded with me to share.
I sighed. “I’ve been back four months and spent all my time at the ranch. I moved around with the Marines, so I never developed lasting friendships. My best friend from high school disappeared, and I have no idea what happened to him. So, no other friends.”
Rod squeezed my shoulder. “We’re not friends. But like I said earlier, I’m a good listener.”
“Thanks.” I turned and left. Deep down, I appreciated Rod’s concern. But I didn’t want to burden a potential friend with my problems. Potential friend? My gut screamed I was too quick to dismiss him. Could I fix this?
Chapter Five
WYL
Driving home after my first day as a college student, I thought about what brought me to this point. Walt made an extra effort to persuade me to work on a degree. I considered forty as too old to be a college student. I feared the glares, whispered snickers, and old-man comments from other students. But he kept at me until I relented. Disappointing my brother was not an option. And as it turned out, Walt was right.
Meeting Rod helped. Both during class and afterward, he helped me be comfortable being an…as he called it…olderstudent. During my time in the Corps, I learned to read people. My job dealt with sensitive information, so knowing who I could trust topped my list. One guy slipped under my radar, and I swore never to repeat the mistake again. In Blackfield, nobody I met matched my idea of a friend, much less more. Rod impressed me as trustworthy, but I needed to be cautious. One: I told nobody about my gay side, my brother in particular. Two: I read that student/teacher relationships led directly to disaster. I understood. An older professor with a teenage student raised all kinds of red flags. Since Rod and I both grew out of our teens many years ago, maybe the rule didn't apply. But I got way ahead of myself.
The garage door rose, and I pulled the truck into my space and got out. I strolled outside and took in a lungful of the warm, clean, late-August West Texas air. I grew up on this ranch, but after twenty years in the Corps, again being a permanent resident struck me as odd. During my annual visits, I spent time with Walt and my folks. Two weeks of no worries and no responsibilities. Our parents died three years ago, and Walt needed help running the ranch. Having worked with him this summer, I was amazed by how he handled the ranch by himself.
In the distance, horses whinnied, and a calm settled over me. This ranch, my home, is where I belong. Inside, I found Walt lounging in one of the leather armchairs in the den, socked feet on the coffee table, reading the newspaper, and sipping a beer.
“Hey.” I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face.
“Hey, yourself.” Walt folded his newspaper and tossed it to the floor. “You sure do look happy. After all the whining and complaining you did this mornin’ ‘bout going back to school, I expected you to be a basket case after your first day.” He pushed himself out of the chair. “How did it go? I’m guessing by your smile, the day didn’t turn into the disaster you expected.” He downed the rest of his beer and padded toward the kitchen for another. “Want a beer?”
“Sure. Shiner, please.”
Walt, one year younger than me and one inch shorter, had a build and facial features much the same as mine. He kept his raven hair cut short, though. After I graduated from Blackfield High, I took a year to explore the States. During those years, I let my hair grow out. Except for an occasional end trim, I’ve not cut it since. Walt never wanted long hair.
I set my satchel on the leather couch. “My first day as a college student turned out better than expected.”
Walt shook his head. “Your time in Europe kinda spoiled you for dark beers. It’s a good thing we have dark beer brewed here in Texas. That’s all I’m sayin’.”
Walt embodied the label Texas Cowboy. And as I tugged off my boots and let them clonk to the floor, I guessed I fit that label, too. But I enjoyed seeing the world while serving in the Marines. “I’ll drag you across the Atlantic someday.” I wiggled my toes in the heavy boot socks. We grew up going barefoot, and both of us still enjoy not having shoes or boots on when relaxing in the house. I followed him into the kitchen.
“Ixnay on the foreign trip.” Walt reached into the fridge and grabbed two beers. “My ex-ball-and-chain tried to persuade me to go on an extended European tour, but I refused her.” He twisted the tops off the Shiner bottles with a hiss and a pop and handed one to me. He held up a hand to stop whatever he thought I started to say. “Yeah…lots of ancient history in Europe, but I figure our ranch is all the history I need. After all, our great-grandad founded this ranch in the 1800s.” He took a swig. “Now tell me about WBCC.”
I took a draw. The mellow brew fizzed as it went down. I drew the back of my hand across my lips, making Walt wait for my assessment of the first day on campus. “The day went better than I expected. I think I’ll enjoy this school thing.”
“School thing?” Walt chuckled. “What are you, twelve again?”
“Shut up.” I grinned and wiped the back of my hand on Walt’s shoulder. “You know what I mean. I’m taking economics, biology, and music appreciation. The economics class is okay. The biology teacher is a little stiff, but I’m familiar with basic biology from growing up on the ranch. The music course is the best. Dr. Bonner invited me to have coffee with him. Wonderful sense of humor. His approach got rid of my stress.”
“His approach? What did he do?”
“He started with each student standing, introducing themself, and sharing why they came to WBCC. I learned about my classmates, and they learned about me. Afterward, my tension about being back in the classroom faded.”
“Your music professor did this?”
“He is a great guy, Walt. I enjoyed his class. Being a college student is way different from what I thought.”
