“Good morning.” Bo tipped his hat, sitting tall atop Whisky.
“And a good morning to you, sir,” Lynette Parker politely replied.
She and Leonard sat on a long wooden bench under the eave of their back porch in the morning shade. They had just finished breakfast and were enjoying a glass of iced tea. A curly-haired, blonde girl emerged from the back door holding a serving jug of tea; a small, white-lace napkin was draped over her left arm. She was playing the part of hostess at what she considered a high-brow tea party. When she saw Bo perched atop Whisky at the back fence, she spoke up in an overly polite tone, “Will the gentleman be joining us for tea?”
Bo caught the eye roll from Leonard and realized that this must be the infamous Jenny that he and Kevin had spoken of. Jenny gave Bo a look of exacerbated tolerance. “You’ll have to park your animal in the pasture; we do not serve horses at tea.”
Leonard’s mother smiled and giggled softly at Jenny’s request.
“Why, thank you, ma’am, but I won’t be attending tea this morning. However, I do appreciate your hospitality.” Bo reached up for his hat brim, removed his hat from his head, and placed it across his chest. He bowed. “I would like a word with Master Leonard; however, if this is not a good time, I can return later.”
Bo easily stepped into the role of guest at Jenny’s high-brow party. She responded in kind with a curtsy.
“Very well then. Mrs. Parker, shall we retire to the kitchen and give the gentlemen some privacy?”
“Why certainly, my dear; we do have dishes to tend to, after all. We’ll just leave you gentlemen to the backyard.”
Leonard’s mother entered the back door and made her way to the kitchen, as Leonard walked across the backyard up to the barbed wire fence, where Bo sat on his horse.
Bo spoke first. “I was wondering if you forgot your way to work.” He paused, waiting for a response, and received none. “Well, I know your mother called me and said you weren’t coming back to work. I figured you had her call.” He waited again for a response, which did not come. Leonard was digging his toes into the grass, not daring to look up. “Unfortunately, that’s not the way it goes. I need to hear it from you. I didn’t hire your mother; I hired you, and when a man quits his job, he tells the boss in person.”
Leonard appeared to have great difficulty lifting his head to look Bo in the eye. He drew in a ragged breath and let it out before he started to speak. His words came slowly, almost inaudible at first. “No sir . . . I really . . . don’t want to quit. I guess I just needed a little time to think.”
“You mean ruminate—that’s far more intense than just thinking,” Bo replied.
“Ruminate?” Leonard asked.
“Ruminate. In cowboy lingo, that means you’re doing something at the same time you’re thinking about something, so your chances of solving the problem are far greater. I reckon you’re ruminating on who your friends are.”
“Yes sir, that’s basically what I’m doing,” Leonard replied.
“I suppose you heard we had a little bullfight go on at the barn the other day?”
“Yes sir, I heard about it,” Leonard said, squinting his eyes against the sun rising behind Bo atop his horse. Lynette had heard the story earlier from Jane Ferris.
“Yep, I reckon you did.” Bo paused and allowed the moment to soak. “You know that boy who you weren’t too sure was your friend took a pretty good lick for you. He’s got a shiner the size of the dish plate because he stood up. He stood up for himself, and in doing so, he stood up for you too.”
Leonard nodded his head and then looked down at his feet again, kicked at the grass.
“Kevin made a decision that will define him for the rest of his life. He raised his chin before his fist, and in doing that, he crossed a threshold that will lead him into manhood. Now I’m not pointing my finger in any particular direction,” Bo said, “but I think this would have turned out a whole lot better if the two of you had stood up together at the first sign of trouble. Kevin felt like a coward that morning, but not for the reason you think. He felt that way because of you and the way you treated him at your house. You turned and ran home. Was it because Kevin wouldn’t take up for you or was it because you were also afraid of Matt?”
Bo continued, not waiting for a response. “Either way, it was you that set these events into motion. Kevin came back and faced Matt. He faced his fears, and he is stronger for it. He even came back and faced you, seeking your understanding and forgiveness. You have Kevin all twisted up inside like a triple knot in a thin, leather strap, thinking he did something wrong, when the truth is all he did was protect himself by not saying anything, just like you did.” Bo said the last words slower and louder for extra emphasis.
Leonard looked up at his old friend, this time holding his eyes on him.
“Son, barbed wire cuts on both sides of the fence. I reckon you’ll need to patch things up before you cut yourself so deeply it won’t heal.” Bo paused and leaned forward in the saddle, his left elbow on the saddle horn and his right hand perched across it, holding Whisky’s reins. The shadow of his cowboy hat and shoulders were outlined on the grass by Leonard’s feet. The conversation grew quiet as both of them gathered their thoughts.
Whisky’s ears flickered, and he lowered his head to pluck the grass from the ground at Leonard’s feet. The boy reached out his hand and rubbed Whisky’s mane as the sound of his jaws grinding the sweet, green blades punctuated the silence.
“The friendship the two of you share is far stronger than Matt’s shallow stupidity. You see, in a way Matt is pathetic because of his ignorance. He bullies weaker people to make himself feel better about the way he is. He is that way because that is all he has ever known or chooses to know.”
Leonard understood what Bo was telling him, but he wasn’t sure where he was going with it. So he listened intently and made eye contact with Bo over Whisky’s head.
“The fact is that Matt would’ve found a way to give you and Kevin a hard time no matter what color the two of you were. That’s just what fellows like Matt do. Do you understand?”
“I think so.” There was a slight question in Leonard’s response and then he asked, “Did Kevin come back to work today?”
“Yes sir, he did,” Bo answered.
“Well, I don’t like Matt.”
“That’s okay; I don’t like him much either.”
“Yeah, but you are bigger than he is, and you can fire him if you wanted to.”
“I reckon I could. However, even a fellow like Matt needs a place to fit in. If I fired everyone I didn’t get along with, the work would never get done. And I am too old to do it all myself. Besides that, you have to figure there are goat ropers and bullies leaning against every fence post in every pasture you will cross in your lifetime. You may as well learn to deal with them now.
“What’s more important here is your friendship with Kevin. I think the two of you together can wrangle Matt easy enough. If I fire Matt, he’ll just go somewhere else and stir up the henhouse. If he stays working for me, maybe he’ll learn a thing or two about being a good cowboy instead of a bully.”
At that moment, Bo could see the shine of understanding in Leonard’s eyes. The boy probably didn’t think anyone understood what he was feeling. He hoped that Leonard could see that he was trying to help him navigate his way through what would be, in retrospect one day, a minor problem. “Now, you reckon you’re done ruminating, or do I need to find another ranch hand?”
Leonard beamed from ear to ear. “Yes sir,” he said, nodding his head. “Um, no sir,” he said, shaking his head. Then he shook his head crazily.
Bo laughed.
Leonard then turned toward the house and shouted to his mother, “Mom, I’m going to work!”
Bo suspected she’d heard the whole thing. Most women had bionic hearing, after all. He could hear the plates clanging and glasses ringing through the open kitchen window as she and Jenny fussed in the kitchen.
“Change your shoes, son!” was her shout back.
Leonard ran to the back porch where he kept an old, dirty pair of tennis shoes, perfectly suited for stomping around in horse stalls. He plopped down on the bench to change shoes. When he looked up, he saw Bo waiting.
Bo said, “Well, are you going to poke around here all morning, or do you want a ride?”
Leonard freaked out. “Really?”
“It would be a lot faster than walking, and you’re late for work already,” Bo said, grinning.
Leonard opted for bare feet temporarily, grabbing up his old shoes, tying the laces together, and flinging them over his shoulder. He leaped from the back porch and shouted, “Bye, Mom!” as he ran through the grass, toes digging in all the way to the fence. He spread the lower two sections of barbed wire and slid through one leg at a time. Bo leaned over in the saddle and extended his arm, locking his hand with Leonard’s and pulling him up. The leather creaked as it stretched—an intoxicating sound to this old rancher. And for Leonard, Bo knew this was probably the first time he’d heard that sound and would probably remember it for the rest of his life—connected to the joy and freedom in this day.
Try as she might, her voice failed her, cracking as she tried unsuccessfully to holler out a goodbye. Surprised at the intensity of her emotion, Lynette struggled to compose herself. She’d witnessed the raw joy in her son’s movements and words as he jumped onto Whisky’s back. She knew, at that moment, Leonard had crossed a threshold that would usher him into manhood. The realization was overpowering to her. This little moment was one of the most important of his young life, one that a boy could only experience with the guidance of a man. Serendipity had placed Bo Kelso in that position for Leonard, on behalf of Leonard’s late father Levi.
She covered her face with a dishtowel, muffling her happy sobbing, as she internalized the vision of her son on that horse. Not wanting to miss a minute, she moved as close as she could to the kitchen window, then the back screen door, and eventually onto the back porch. She sat on the bench and watched Whisky’s long tail swishing back and forth, until the image faded into a memory.
“Oh, Levi, did you see that?” Lynette wiped away more tears from her cheek. “That boy is growing up so fast. Thank God for this moment, and thank you for giving him to me.” She whispered a short prayer and lingered a few minutes more to ensure she hadn’t missed an extra second of the cowboy, her son, and that beautiful horse.
Just then, Jenny emerged from the house holding a large kitchen towel. When she observed her beloved caretaker sitting on the bench and crying, she placed both her hands on her hips and asked, “What happened? Did that man say something to make you cry?”
“No dear, I’m just happy, that’s all.”
“But you’re crying.”
“Yes, I am crying tears of joy. I am crying because I’m happy. When you’re real happy, the kind of happy I am right now, you cry,” Lynette said and then stood from the bench. Placing her arm around the young girl, they returned to the kitchen.
“Men!” Jenny said, causing Lynette to howl in hearty laughter.