story # 4

Jehovah's Witnesses

by bob gottlieb

copyright © 1992-2012 Bob Gottlieb, all rights reserved.

It just had been that kind of day, thought Bob, as he felt a trickle of sweat run down his side, he looked up at the sky with squinted eyes and noted how much higher the sun had positioned its self since last he had checked in the late June Arizona sky;  and once again saw no real chance for rain today.  The clouds that hung over the rim looked as if they could wash away  all the cares in the valley, would they hold up to their promise of rain? The air felt....  It was static, but not the static that is charged, rather static that is flat, dead, and without potential.  He shifted his gaze back to the terrain he was supposed to be scouring for strays..., nada.  He hadn't seen cattle all morning, antelope and deer, a couple of coyote, but no cattle or even fresh sign of them.  He was hoping that meant they had done a good job and gathered all the livestock that had been in the pasture.

Breakfast had been a dismal affair.  Bonnie was in 'that' kind of mood, just itchin' to bicker.  "You're working such long hours I never get to see you.  We don't have enough money for those new boots."  The coffee tasted stale, the corn meal had been burned, the air tasted stale at the table, the room felt stale, and even the relationship had a stale feeling.  Neither of them wanted the touch of the other.  There were no hugs exchanged, and never a patted rump.  They needed a break, and the endless hours and drudgery of roundup exacerbated the staleness of their lives.   A night out on the town, a visitor, even a movie, any sort of a break to relieve the staleness or disharmony created by the unbalanced state of affairs.

The weather hadn't helped anything either; hot as a ready branding iron, with the humidity going up into the higher teens, not unusual for this time of year. Usually we got some rains to break this oppressive combination of heat and humidity.  Not this year.  This year a myriad of promises, even some serious threats, but it had stayed dry for better than three weeks now when the rain could have been expected to be forth coming, but nothing spotted the windshields or made the ground give forth the rich fecund odor that just seem to charge the air with a sexuality.  No rain since last winter.  The threats of weather had made everyone and everything a lot more jumpy than if it had just been a regular drought, with no broken promises of weather.  Expectations and promises unfulfilled were worse than none at all.  Negative ions or something like that some would say, others would have a completely different explanation, but it would would always distill down to the same edginess, the imbalance in nature.  Quiet horses had these sudden humps in their backs they wouldn't straighten out until you stepped on, cows that had never quit a herd before were throwing nines in their tails and letting the green streams mark their trail.

A movement jolted Bob's mind to the job at hand, the focus of the eye brought two mother/calf pairs to register on the brain.  He circled them with care to head them in the direction of the water tank where they were to meet up with the rest of the crew, but kept well back giving them no excuses to make a dodge.  Almost to the tank he picked up another pair plus a maverick bull that were running together; they threw in with the ones he was moving with no fuss at all, as they were all going in an amenable direction with no hurry.  Bob stopped well short of the tank and let his small group mingle with those that Greg and  Curtis had gathered.  When he saw there was no brouhaha pending he circled over to where they were having a smoke and a chat while  waiting for John-John to straggle in with what he could find.  As John-John came in from his expression it was apparent he had nothing to add to the 14 they were holding, it had been a meager day, but they didn't expect much as the pasture had been swept just a few days before.  Today was just to tidy up the strays.  John-John rolled a smoke as he joined the circle. It was a nice break because a real sharp eye wasn't necessary for quitters as there was good feed and water sitting right there for them.  After finishing his smoke and pondering on whatever he was pondering, he told Greg and Bob to take the afternoon off and go on home.  He said there was no sense in them riding all the way back to home camp and then having to ride out this way again tomorrow when they were so close to their houses and could pick up from here tomorrow and it would only require the two of them to sweep the Gooseneck pasture in the morning.  It was understood that they would check for strays on the way home.  One of them was to ride the fence the other to take the high line.   Meanwhile John-John and Curtis would take the remnants into the home pens.  They would start to brand, cut and  doctor in the morning, hopefully by the time they were done with that chore Bob and Greg would be pulling in with whatever they had found.  Then they would be finished with that side of the allotment.  If things went as planned, because with animals you never knew,  Time permitting they would all do a big circle on the Canyon pasture.  This was a small pasture, but very rough with lots of cat claw and cholla, as well as a large number of pockets for the cattle to brush up in.  Bob thought of the time he had ridden in to gather without chaps, he rode out ribbons of blood covering his legs.  Happy for the early day the 2 cowboys headed for home, Greg riding the fence and Bob took the high line.  It was only about a mile to the highway and the boundary line of the ranch, about a 1/2 mile past that was the area were they lived.  They were rural neighbors and shared a common pasture, tack room, and outhouse.  They rode in turned their horses out,  put away their tack, and went to the separate houses to do whatever the afternoon had in store for them.  Greg's girl friend, Georgette, was home and Bonnie, Bob's sweetheart,  was working today at a lawyer's office, which meant he would have some peace and solitude to clear out some of that stale tiredness that had accumulated inside his  brain.  Bob took advantage of the time and took a shower, they had one of those fancy outdoors ones with a hose and a nozzle wired up to a board and a nice wooden platform to stand on in their front yard, with the water draining into the garden, it is the desert and water is very precious.  It felt real good  just to be at home during the day with absolutely nothing required of him.  He used the time to clean up the morning dishes and then relax on the hammock and read a book.  When he woke up about an hour later he peered up at the sun and saw it was about the correct time for a serious nap, thus he went in to lay down on the bed as the hammock was now in full sun.  The mesquite tree being rather scanty till it matured a bit more, in about 30 or so years.

The house was an 80 year old adobe, and like most traditional adobes it had very little window area.  It also had a rather odd configuration so we'd better describe it for you now, as it will have great importance.  You entered into the living room/bedroom through a full length glass door that was held closed by a hydraulic door closer.  This was done so that a 69 lb. greyhound that could work the door at his will for easy entrance and exit.  He was quite adept at this and had even acted as a good role model so that now the cat used it also, though he was not as strong as the dog, and also lazier and tried to time his comings and goings so they coincided with the dog's.  Directly to the left as you entered was a 4 foot high catch all table, that also served as a night table for the bed which was separated from it by a 2 by 6, that served as a headboard.  On the right was a walk-in closet containing the usual assortment of clothes, and whatever else they didn't know what to do with.  A wood burning stove, a couch and an overstuffed easy chair were the only other pieces of furniture in the room, aside from a built in desk and bookcase, the walls were adobe and apinted white with a fine film of soot from the stove to take it to that off white color know as grey.  There was a doorway on the right wall past the closet and it led to the kitchen.  Through the kitchen was a jewelry and lapidary studio set up he used upon occasion to make some jewelry.   Through this this was the bathroom (new addition and not operational quite yet).  Not a very big house, but very comfortable and worn.

Bob climbed up onto the bed and started reading as prelude to falling off to his nap.   About 4 pages later, just as his eyes were getting boggy and about to stay closed, he heard a car pull to a stop up by Greg and Georgette's, that sounded very much like Bonnie's VW.  Most people parked up there so they didn't have to brave the twisted mass of gullies that were carved into the terra firma that was called a road and led to his door, .  He realized she would not even have an inkling that he was at home, his mind started working on their current doldrums, and what he could do about them.   "What can I do to surprise her and bring her out of this mire?", he murmured.  He immediately repremanded himself for talking to himself.    As quickly as ideas entered his mind he disgarded them.  When the idea came to him, it came to him fully formed and waiting to be used.  It should be just the mood elevator they needed he thought, as a smile overtook and invaded his whole face.  He ran it by his mind one more time to make sure it was what he was looking for;  he knew a mistake would only make things worse, all the while listening to the footsteps signaling her approach.  He quickly positioned himself at the edge of the table.  This was such a deserted area in which they lived that he had not put on any clothes after his shower, and he was still buck naked.  His hair was just about dry from his shower, it stopped just over his shoulders in a kind of Medusa like mass, reminiscent of one of those bushy 18th century wigs from France, except of course it was not powdered and white, but brown.  After lying on it during his attempted nap it was in that fly away condition that is politely called unmanaged, with pieces of it coming out at odd angles.  He gathered himself at the edge of the table all the while  his ears focused on listening to the approaching footsteps, preparing himself as how to most effectively spring down to the door when the moment arrived to both scare and startle Bonnie.  He considered what he should say as he landed, all the while listening to the footsteps getting closer.  Something was niggling at the back of his mind that he wouldn't/couldn't let through, so intent was he on making this leap an effective spring from the doldrums in which they had been mired, to the alive energy they both craved.  The timing was absolutely critical.  It could ruin the whole thing if he was a fraction of a second either way, so his ears would not leave the approaching footsteps.

He was crouched at the end of the table waiting for the final few and then the pause which would indicate the door was being reached for, which would be his signal they were positioned at the door, and thus where he wanted them.  Silence!  He leaped into the air, and as he did so the key word hit him.  They!!!.... If it was they, Bonnie was being accompanied by someone.....  He was blushing and embarrassed as he hit the floor, his arms attempting to cover up his crotch area before his eyes even had time to view the scene in front of him.  His eyes bugged even further as they took it in, and his color intensified to what might be called fire engine red meets neon crimson as he realized what he was seeing.  Yet his voice still went on as if nothing had happened and out of his mouth came the planned word, "HI!", with all the friendliness he could have mustered, though slightly creaky as if it had to force itself from his throat.  His eyes widened from saucers to serving platters and his color intensified even more as the shock set in to his thinking mind.   In front of him and equally agast and starring back at him were two elderly Mexican ladies with copies of The Watchtower now strangled in their involuntarily tightened hands and clutched to their chests, their lower jaws dropping down around their navels, a bright red color making deep inroads on their natural mahogany skin, and their eyes swelling to resemble grapefruits in size.  They were the first to break the mood as they turned and bolted from the doorway,  they made the famed Quarter Horse start seem as if it normally had been performed in quicksand prior to this.  What went through their minds might have been something along the lines of;  How had they, two worthy followers of JEHOVAH landed at this HELL. and what is this most unholy of heathens, this naked hairy gargoyle planning to do to them???

Bob at this point fell to the ground rolling with laughter, absolutely unable to hold a breath properly.  The whole situatuion had exploded in his mind.  The next thing he knew the door was thrown open and Greg and Georgette came bursting into the house, but he was unable to say a word as he had no breath from laughing.  They pulled up short when they saw him rolling on the floor doubled up, because there was no apparent reason for this, they  immediately ran to him to see if he was ok.  In small bursts he managed to assure them he was fine, and in this condition due solely to laughter.  They told him of seeing the two women running from his house as if they were young sprinters and chased by the hounds of hell.  They had jumped into their car and flew out as if they were at the start of the Indianapolis 500.  Greg and Georgette couldn't fathom what had made them leave with such reckless haste unless there was something radically wrong, as the road was just marginally better than a rutted washboard, and yet it didn't cause a decrease in speed from these bouncing women.  They  knew they better take a look  to make sure everything was ok.  Was he laying there with a rattlesnake attached to his throat or suffering some equally lurid fate?  Bob spun out his tale, and just as he finished Bonnie entered unheard, and gave them all that type of look that says what did I miss because there has to be a reason you guys are laying around in the doorway half naked and convulsed with laughter.  The story was told to Bonnie during the consumption of a 6 pack of beer which she'd been bringing home.  It was finally decided to all go out for Mexican food that night.  It fit the festive type of mood that had come over all concerned.

The final outcome (if there is one) of a story like this is at times hard to fully realize, but this little incident did manage to break the doldrums at Bob and Bonnie's house, and chase the stale that had been invading it away.  I wish I could tell you it rained, but then I'd be a liar.   Best of all, as it turns out for Bob, is that he has never been bothered by Jehovah's Witnesses knocking on his door again, no matter where he has lived, and he has lived in a lot of places in the 20 some odd years that have slid by since then.  I know this for a fact because I  ran into him the other day and he told me.

 

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