The Hard-To-Tame Texan Page 4

  It was only astonishing that Andrew’s grandfather allowed his son, Andrew’s father, a portion of his estate. Andrew would have nothing when his father had used that all up. His father was not stable.

  Andrew’s father had seen a droll movie about plastics when he was vulnerable. He didn’t have the humor to understand the film. He believed in plastics. He owned stock in plastics. He was caught in something that could never last. And he would shrivel away along with his inherited money.

  Andrew’s father needed to understand. He needed to listen to his son about the beginnings. Unfortunately, it appeared that every other person in this world was hell-bent on going on beyond plastics to breathing synthetics.

  There are people who just never understand the world is moving along—without them. Oddly enough, Andrew was such a person.

  He had all those past things stacked up in his mind, and no one gave a hoot in hell about any of it.

  How strange that the busy, distracted and kind Mina Keeper knew all that about Andrew Parsons. And it was she who told JoAnn how to smooth Andrew into understanding this finishing twentieth century.

  “He is a throwback to another time,” Mina Keeper mentioned needlessly. “We need to upgrade him somewhat. How about you working on that first, JoAnn. You do that while I’m trying to find someone else who can help him.”

  JoAnn said, “Okay. I’ll try. Don’t expect anything. He’s in the clasp of his own regard and probably won’t listen.”

  Very kindly, Mina Keeper mentioned, “You need to make him think he’s teaching you all that stuff.”

  JoAnn licked her lips thoughtfully as she mentioned, “Stuff” in a manner that was an echo of Mrs. Keeper. It was an important communication about which she wasn’t entirely sure.

  Rather drolly, Mina Keeper said, “He’s not in step with other people. We need to upgrade him enough so that he understands the current times.”

  “Oh. Well. I think I can help with that. I shall try.” Then she asked, “Have you found someone to take my place as yet?”

  “Not yet. I’m searching.”

  “Well, get on it as soon as you can, or I might louse up this outdated person who is named a rather current Andrew.”

  Mina mentioned, “We had a long-ago president named Andrew Jackson.”

  “Compared to Andrew Parsons, Andrew Jackson is almost current.”

  That made Mina Keeper laugh.

  So Mina saved that to tell her husband that night as she was again winding up her hair in little swirls and trapping them just so.

  Sprawled on the bed, John Keeper said, “Compared to Andrew Parsons, Andrew Jackson was modern.” And John added, “Has it ever occurred to you how fast this world has progressed in just the last one hundred years? My grandmother went from horse and buggy to watching the moon landing on TV, for crying out loud!”

  Winding her hair, Mina replied, “I know.”

  “Andrew has a long way to come up to normal. Let’s get rid of him.”

  Mina turned and looked at her husband. He was watching her.

  She told him, “Darling, we have to help this poor person advance until he can join in with other people of this time.”

  John rejected that. “He’s a throwback, there’s no question. How do you expect to do anything about him?”

  “I’ve turned him over to JoAnn for now. She’ll help until I find someone who can instruct him better.”

  John raised his head to look at her with direction. “Let’s get rid of him. Out of sight, out of mind.”

  “He is our guest. We cannot just turn him out. We must see to it that he can fit in.”

  She got up and went to him with her hair half-done. She sat by him and lay back near him. She said, “You’re a king.”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s because of you that I willingly live out in this beyond. I love you, John.”

  “Ah, Mina, my love.”

  So the discussion about Andrew was lost for that night.

  It was the next day that John’s odd parents arrived. Bart Keeper had given the ranch to his son John. Bart and Alice traveled. They stayed in odd places and found odd things and sent gifts home. No one really knew what to do with the gifts.

  Under Mina’s subtle guidance, the family finally voted on a museum-type room. That way, they could display the things sent to them by the parents/grandparents. And they had a viewing for the parents/ grandparents when they arrived back at the ranch.

  Getting things out of papers and displaying and then putting them away had been a nuisance. This way it all looked as if the children and grandchildren appreciated the things gathered in such respect.

  Feather dusters were a godsend. The gifts could be dusted quickly if the grandparents came in a surprise. Fortunately, they mostly called ahead.

  Since the family had had money for so many years, everything bought for looking at it was just a waste of good cash. John was tempted to sell the stuff, but his wife, Mina, had said, “Not yet.”

  Alice Keeper was a good deal like her daughter-in-law, Mina. Before the senior couple left again, it was Alice who coached JoAnn in what all she should do about the laggard Andrew Parsons.

  So JoAnn changed into boots and trousers with a big TEXAS hat and went in search of Andrew. She did find him and sat down in a chair across from him.

  His reply to her greeting was a stiff almost imperceptible nod.

  After a silence, she said to the settling tire-iron who lived around their necks, “Tell me about the Russians who share their space station.”

  Bruskly minimizing, Andrew retorted, “The station is obsolete. It will probably fall the entire way. It will probably hit in one of our ocean.”

  She countered, “We go up there to the Russian station. Our people share the station.”

  “If the Russians rejected us, the space station wouldn’t be stable.”

  She was rather astonished he was even that current. “How do you know that?”

  “They aren’t us.”

  JoAnn shrugged and put out her hands. “They had it built before we’ve managed one. We have no station in space.”

  With some endurance, Andrew told her, “We are planning to land on Mars.”

  Now that was astonishing for JoAnn to hear from Andrew. It was current! She didn’t know enough about it to continue the conversation. So she asked, “Would you go to Mars?”

  And he replied a finalized type of, “No.”

  So, to continue this remarkable conversation, she asked, “Why not?”

  Impatiently, Andrew replied, “There are no people there.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “No water.” He frowned a little and looked around for some escape as he breathed harshly...

  So JoAnn asked, “Where would you like to go?”

  He said in a deadly way, “Away from here.”

  “Why would you want to leave here?”

  He looked directly at JoAnn and said, “It’s boring.”

  “Do you play cards?”

  He enunciated it specifically, “No.”

  “Do you ride...horses?”

  With caustic rudeness, he mentioned, “My leg.”

  She was well aware that he was enduring her. He was rude and would rather not be accosted by her, but he had no choice. She asked, “Where would you like to go if you could go anywhere in the world?” That old saw of desperation.

  He looked at her. He considered. He looked away. He could think of no other place. He said, “Why don’t you run along home to your mother?”

  And she said, “I’m bored. Talk to me.”

  He was caught. He did understand boredom and he did understand being ignored. He looked at her and saw her patience. She just might listen to him and be impressed. She wasn’t too dumb. And he might practice communicating with her to ease other times of chat with current people.

  He asked, “What do you want to know?” Actually, he didn’t give one hoot in hell about her. His voice was not interested. H
e was not interested. He was enduring her. It was obvious.

  Being thirty and not thirteen, she almost smiled, but she asked with interest, “If you had lived two hundred years ago and had the choice to come to this time, would you have done that?”

  Oddly enough, no one had ever asked him that question. He was somewhat irritated. She didn’t ask him what was important then, she asked if he would have wanted to live then.

  Andrew said, “I would have come here.”

  And rudely, basically pushing the nomad, she replied, “Just tampons would have convinced me to come to this time.”

  Andrew looked at her with some shock that she would speak of such. To a man? He opened his mouth to set her down and—

  “Would you want to wear the clothes of that time?” Then she added, “What would you have done about condoms?”

  He thought she was vulgar. Tampons and condoms. What else did she harbor in her mind? So he asked, “What else would you take back just two hundred years?” He asked it rather snidely.

  She grinned. “That’s easy. Cars, dishwashers.” She gestured one hand in circles. “—telephones, X-ray, air-conditioning, medical upgrading, dental equipment—”

  “You are a modern woman.”

  “You bet.”

  “What...man...would you take with you?”

  She surprised him with an immediate reply, “A current plumber. He could fix the water supply and figure out an automatic clothes washer.”

  And he inquired, “What would you think of a current telescope?”

  “To look at the stars? Naw. If I could take anything that big, it would be a radio hookup.”

  Oddly that time-man asked, “What about a boat motor?”

  She dismissed it all, “Men can row and there are sails.”

  “What sort of stove would you have?”

  “Any fire would do. Matches were available at that time.”

  “A—refrigerator?”

  JoAnn discarded it aside with one hand. “Not all that necessary.”

  “Why not?”

  “In the summer we would eat from the garden, and in winter, we would use a box outside for the fridge. My grandmother mentioned ancestors pulling a box of food up into a tree away from animals in winter. The wooden box served as a fridge. That happened in Ohio.”

  Andrew’s attention was lured. He didn’t have family memories. He was caught by hers. “Which side of the family told you these stories?”

  “My mother’s side. They wrote of everyday things and saved letters. They knitted socks and shawls. They didn’t have a sewing machine, but heard tell of such. I would want one.”

  “So you sew?”

  “Heavens, no. But in that situation, I would learn. They had parties. They wore costumes. They had fun.”

  “I never thought of that time as being...fun. I thought it was all work.”

  JoAnn thoughtfully replied, “I suppose it is attitude that matters.” She looked at him, then added, “—even now.” That was close enough.

  Andrew gave her a quick look. Was she saying his attitude was wrong? But she was smiling a little. Probably remembering other things her forebears had done.

  And Andrew was touched. He had never known of his own ancestors. How would it be to know them? To know of them. What they had done and how they had lived. What had been important to them?

  She said, “When my great-grandmother was in the Great Depression, and my grandmother was a child, the great-grandmother typed addresses on penny postcards to pay for a typewriter. She gave piano lessons until she could pay for a piano. She had been raised playing a piano. She had learned to type on a strange looking, early typewriter. It must have been an interesting time.”

  He agreed. With a rather abstract nod, he said, “Like the computer now.” Then he said, “I don’t know about my kin that far back.”

  “You ought to look them up in the genealogical library. Then perhaps you could find a cousin or two who had been given letters or stories about your family.”

  “Have you?”

  “I know my people.”

  He observed her.

  That was the only way she could think of it. He was curious about her family...and now his own. Would he search them out? It would be interesting. How many would want to deal with Andrew Parsons? That would be even more interesting.

  She interrupted his self thoughts saying, “Let’s go exercise your leg.”

  Andrew had an instant brain flash picture of her sitting on his stomach and pulling his harmed leg around. His lips parted as he—

  And she said, “I’m restless. Let’s walk.”

  Andrew looked at her and saw her. She was a person. Another person. As he was one, so was she. And she was desperate for something to do. She was not someone who sat and visited. She wanted something that was interesting.

  It occurred to him that, to her, he was not interesting! That was a startling knowledge! And it was only then that he realized his mother loved him. Now that was a shock! His mother listened as she watched him.

  And he realized that not only did she love him, she had missed him when he was away. Her letters had come weekly. She had written all the news. He had not replied. He’d hated being there in England, away from home, unlike anyone around him. Rejected.

  Not only had the other students rejected him, but his mo—It had been his father who’d wanted him gone. Yeah. So that was why he’d been sent away. His father was such a wimp that he’d wanted all his wife’s attentions.

  But his father had written to him.

  Andrew had read the plump letters “...do your best.” in scorn. He’d burned his father’s letters.

  He had kept all those his mother had sent.

  And walking beside the guest whose name he didn’t recall, Andrew understood that his father probably was jealous of him. Or—He was such a loner that he thought Andrew would grow and expand if he was given another environment.

  Andrew had hated being away from TEXAS. He had hated being away from his own people. It had been terrible for him to cope with another environment

  He was too different in all ways—from dress to speech. His heart had shriveled. He could have been with those who were his own kind. He hadn’t needed to be pressed against the rejection in England.

  And he wondered for the first time if the other kids had wanted to be there in school. Some had. They all had much in common. They knew the games, the words, the formal clothing. Only he was a stupid tagalong.

  He could have gone to TEXAS University. His family still put the state first. It wasn’t really the University of TEXAS, it was right out there, TEXAS University.

  Andrew looked around. There was nothing in sight. A trifle alarmed, he asked the female, “Where are we?”

  “There’s a spring over yonder. Let’s see if there are any prints of animals. Do you know prints?”

  “Not likely.” How strange to hear the TEXAS comment come from his own lips. He smiled.

  There was a mottled blue enamel cup hanging from a big nail impaled in a crooked branch. He took the cup, rinsed it and scooped up a cupful of water to hand it to JoAnn quite nicely.

  She drank from it.

  Then he threw away the leftover water from the cup, wiped it with his handkerchief and scooped up another cupful and drank from it. She watched his tidiness. She was offended he’d wiped her contact away. She rejected him entirely.

  She turned and began to walk back without waiting for him at all.

  He caught up with her. “Don’t hurry so. With my leg so badly hurt, I could get lost.”

  Coolly, she inquired, “No sense of direction?”

  “None.”

  “The sun is there. That is east. We are to the south side of the sun.”

  He mentioned with sharing, “I don’t believe I ever realized I could use the sun to guide me.”

  “What did you use?”

  “A compass.”

  “You need to consider the sun. With the changes in the year, th
e sun changes. Pay attention.”

  She was discarding him. He knew that right away. He didn’t know why.

  He looked at her and she did not return his look. Her attention was on beyond. She didn’t speak.

  “I’ve offended you?”

  She retorted, “Not at all. You are you.”

  Whatever he was, he’d sure as hell lost her. He said, “Could we walk a little slower? My leg—” That would catch her compassion.

  “I’ve a phone call to make. See that tree ahead? That’s even with the ranch house. Go thataway.”

  And she...just...strode on off! Leaving him there on the tableland all by himself! It was amazing.

  He called, “It was your idea to walk, and I accompanied you. It is your commitment to see me back safely!” He was stern.

  She hesitated. She walked slower. She was obviously considering her responsibility. She slowed more. She turned and put her hands on her hips. She asked, “How long are you going to milk that supposedly harmed leg?”

  He was shocked. He looked at her in such amazement. “Do you think I was not harmed with the dead horse lying on my leg for over two days?”

  “You’ve healed. You’re milking this whole shebang. You bore me. Hustle up and let’s get this over with.”

  Wiping his forehead with a pristine handkerchief, he said, “I must go slower. My leg—”

  “—is in good condition. It only needs exercise. I asked your doctor. He thinks you’re capable of using the leg without any cane. He especially asked about the cane I had mentioned.”

  Approaching her more slowly, he countered, “At the bottom of the stairs is a container of odd canes. I borrowed one.” That was well said. He explained the cane without mentioning he didn’t need one.

  So she said it. “You don’t need a cane.”

  He looked around. He gestured. “This is wild and woolly land. I needed some sort of protection...for you...out here.”

  It was courteous and he bowed his head just a trifle as he watched her.