The Last Ranch (39 page)

Through the end of the school year, Kevin and Kim stayed in touch mostly by letter and occasionally by telephone. Kevin expected that time and distance would wear down their interest in each other, but the reverse proved true. He wasn't sure why. Their letters were neither mushy nor sexy. Instead, they wrote about everyday things: Kim's part-time job to save money for college, Kevin rebuilding his grandfather's old pickup truck with Dale's help so he could take it with him to Las Cruces.

When he admitted to taking Betsy Reed, a girl in his Spanish class, to the senior prom, Kim wrote back jokingly accusing him of unfaithfulness before revealing she'd done the same with Corky Brazell, because “you only get to go to your senior prom once.” Kevin felt the same.

Both of them had won scholarships. Kevin had two, a merit scholarship that covered tuition, books, and fees, and an ROTC scholarship that gave him a room-and-board stipend. In addition, Erma Fergurson was going to rent him the one-bedroom apartment in her new house for next to nothing in exchange for his
handyman services. It meant he wouldn't be putting a big financial strain on his parents to go to college. He felt good about that.

Kim had also received financial aid, with a $500 New Mexico High School Rodeo Association Award she could use for incidental school expenses, and a presidential scholarship that paid her tuition, books, fees, and on-campus housing. Other than being required to carry a full class load and maintain a high grade point average in order to keep the scholarship, the only real downside was that she'd be forced to abide by dorm curfews and visiting restrictions. But with Kevin having his own place, she coyly told him it might be bearable.

After graduation, Kevin spent most of his time at the ranch helping Matt with the ponies and working cattle with Dale and both their dads. On a morning in July he accompanied Dale to Las Cruces so he could enlist in the air force. Dale requested flight-mechanic school after basic training, figuring the skills he'd learn would benefit him around the ranch or help him land a job after his discharge if need be.

Dale signed the papers, and the recruiting sergeant told him to report for induction in one week. Back in T or C, they stopped off so Dale could give his girlfriend the news. It didn't go over too well. From the cab of the truck, Kevin watched as they argued on her front porch. Finally, she threw up her hands in disgust, went inside, and slammed the front door in his face.

“What happened?” Kevin asked when Dale returned.

“She dumped me,” he replied sheepishly. “I told her I didn't want to get married until after I got out of the service.”

“She'll get over it,” Kevin suggested, trying to bolster Dale's spirits.

Dale shook his head. “Nope, she wants to get married bad. If it isn't me, she'll find someone else.”

“Is there some reason she's in such a hurry?” Kevin asked diplomatically.

Dale shook his head. “I didn't knock her up. It's always been ‘wait until we're married.' That's just the way she's been raised.”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

Dale sighed. “I guess not.”

Kevin fired up the truck. “Gals like guys in uniform. At least, that's what I've heard.”

Dale chuckled disdainfully. “Yeah, you should know. Look how Jeannie Hollister stuck by you after you joined JROTC.”

The following week, Kevin drove Dale to El Paso the day before he was to be sworn in at the induction center. They got a room at a cheap downtown motel, and upon the recommendation of the manager, parked the pickup, left most of their money hidden in their room, and walked across the border to Juárez, arriving in the city at dusk just as the nightlife was heating up.

Dale wanted a drink or two to celebrate his last hours of freedom as a civilian, so they wandered into a few noisy bars along the crowded main street that teemed with GIs in civvies from the nearby military bases. At one saloon Dale got to talking with two airmen from Holloman Air Force Base, who ragged on him about being stupid enough to enlist.

Dale told them he'd signed on for training as an aircraft mechanic, which he quickly learned would probably get him a tour in Vietnam. Neither of the airmen had gone there yet, but were due to deploy in a few months. Before departing, they recommended a visit to Casa Blanca, the best whorehouse in Juárez. Dale decided he had to see it for himself.

Following their directions, Kevin and Dale wandered a few blocks down the main boulevard to a side street that opened onto a large plaza. Directly across from a towering church with tall
spires, a high, whitewashed adobe wall hid a large hacienda. A courtyard gate with a small sign above it discreetly announced the establishment.

Inside was a charming outdoor patio under thick, leafy shade trees. The lights of a brightly lit grand saloon beckoned through an open doorway. They settled at a long, polished bar and started drinking scotch whiskey, which Dale had a sudden need to try now that he was about to become a fighting member of the armed forces.

Although early, the bar was busy with a number of good-looking young women working potential customers. It wasn't long before two gals approached them and whispered suggestions of how they might be able to please them at a certain price.

Dale decided his transition from civilian life wasn't quite complete, so he quickly finished his drink, gave Kevin a silly grin, and left with his attractive escort down a hallway that led to a row of private rooms.

Kevin said no to the girl who'd almost crawled into his lap. Not because she was unappealing or suggested disinteresting acts, but because he didn't like the idea of buying sex. With her hand on his crotch and her tongue in his ear, it was hard to maintain his willpower. But he stuck to his guns and she eventually wandered away, which immediately made him begin to regret his decision. Fortunately it didn't take Dale long to conclude his tryst with the other girl. He returned looking smug and very pleased with himself.

They had another scotch to say goodbye to Casa Blanca, and ate dinner at a main-drag steakhouse, where Kevin had a change of heart about the “soiled dove” who'd propositioned him. By then it was too late. Most of his money had gone to buy Dale drinks and pay for dinner. He doubted Casa Blanca extended
credit to gringo teenagers. Besides, Dale was a little too drunk to find his way back to the motel alone. With the last of what was left in his wallet, he piled Dale into a cab that took them to the international bridge. To keep Dale from weaving, Kevin guided him slowly across the bridge above the sluggish, brown trickle of the Rio Grande, and down the busy sidewalk to the motel. In their room, Dale reminisced about his time with the Casa Blanca whore before falling asleep fully dressed on the top of his bed. Kevin set the alarm clock for four in the morning and turned out the lights.

Shortly before six, after stopping for burritos for breakfast, Kevin dropped Dale off, hungover and pale-looking, in front of the induction center. He slapped him on the back and wished him well, a little envious of his friend and a little sad to see him leave. He watched Dale meld into the crowd of young men moving through the front door, reconciled to the idea that for him it was college before the military. Maybe he'd miss the fighting, but he'd made a promise to his parents that school would come first.

He drove away thinking it really wasn't all that far from El Paso to Deming—about a ninety-minute drive on a fast, good highway. The night at Casa Blanca had given him an itch to see Kim. He discarded the idea as harebrained. Instead, he headed north, home to the ranch.

***

E
rma had offered to furnish Kevin's apartment above the garage of her new house, but Mary wouldn't hear of it. A full two weeks before classes started, she came down to Las Cruces with Kevin. They stayed as Erma's houseguests while haunting used-furniture stores and secondhand shops, buying what was needed at bargain prices. By the time they were ready to return to the ranch and
prepare for his more permanent move, the apartment was fully furnished and ready. Kevin was itching to move in.

Mary and Matt followed him from the ranch the day he moved and Erma cooked a welcoming dinner for her “new tenant” and his parents that consisted of beef Stroganoff, French green beans, salad, and a peach cobbler. Before digging in, everyone toasted Kevin with a glass of wine to launch him on his collegiate journey.

Erma's new home was probably the most modern in town. It had the look of an adobe-style house, but the lines were sharp and clean with little inside or outside ornamentation. The floors were all tile and the walls all painted a soft off-white with a hint of yellow. She'd furnished it in Danish modern pieces that were sleek, low, and drew the eye. On the walls were some of her larger paintings highlighted by strategically mounted ceiling lights. A row of south-facing windows lit up the living room during the day, and opposite was a long, deep fireplace with a polished slab-stone hearth that made the room feel cozy at night. Her studio was where she let go and got messy, with paintings haphazardly hung here and there, stacked against a wall, or on easels in varying stages of completion in front of a bank of large north windows that drew in the beauty of the foothills and the soft, cool light of the day.

Kevin figured he was about the luckiest freshman at NMSU. He couldn't wait for Kim to see his apartment.

After his folks returned to the ranch, he had one day to settle in before Erma got serious about working him as her handyman in lieu of paying full rent. His first job, she informed him as they stood inside the double garage, still crammed with unopened packing boxes from her recent move, was to build floor-to-ceiling shelves along the back wall for storage. She handed him a drawing with the exact dimensions she wanted, gave him some money
for the lumber and materials he'd need, and pointed to a toolbox on the floor near the garage door.

“You should find what you'll need for the job in there,” she said. “But if not, buy it.”

“What grade of lumber do you want me to use?”

Erma tapped her lips thoughtfully. “Nothing warped but nothing too expensive. Does that help?”

Kevin studied the drawing. What she wanted built was straightforward and easily done. “Yes. When do you want it finished?”

“Soon, so I can start unpacking these boxes, store things properly, and get this mess cleaned up. You can help me with that too.” She patted him affectionately on the arm. “Oh, and I'll give you gas money when you run errands for me, okay?”

“Okay. I'll start today. But before I go for the lumber, I need to clear a path to the back wall and make room to work.”

Erma smiled. “I'll leave you to it, but come inside before you take off. I have something your mother left for you.”

“What is it?”

“A Betty Crocker illustrated cookbook. You can't live on twenty-five-cent hamburgers and ten-cent fries endlessly.”

The mere thought of cooking every day made Kevin wince.

“It won't be so bad,” Erma consoled. “And occasionally you have to help me in the kitchen when I have gatherings, so you'll learn.”

“That's not my idea of being a handyman.”

Erma laughed. “But it's mine.”

***

O
nce the shelves were up, Erma helped Kevin put everything away. He removed the trash, cleaned up the garage, and asked
what next. It turned out to be helping with a party she was throwing in the evening for some of her colleagues, friends, and graduate students. Not only did he learn how to dice, chop, and help prepare appetizers and canapés, he also had a good time when the guests arrived, especially when Sue Ann Bussey swooped in through the front door, her escort a forgotten tailwind.

Five-six with strawberry-blond hair and a flawless complexion, her arrival literally froze all conversation. She had a thousand-watt smile and a way of looking at you that said you were the most important person in the room. Kevin was more thunderstruck than smitten when Erma introduced him to her. He immediately wished he were at least five years older.

“Oh my,” Sue Ann said, looking him over with a gleam in her eye. “Aren't you the handsome one.”

“Enough of that,” Erma cautioned.

Sue Ann turned her attention fully on Erma and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Of course, you're right.” She waved and winked at Kevin as her escort led her away to a nearby group of guests clustered in front of the living-room picture window. Outside, the valley was etched in vivid detail under a crystal-clear, late-afternoon sky.

“Stay away from that one,” Erma said. “In fact, better yet, you are excused from your duties.”

“I can go?”

“Scram,” Erma replied. “Come for breakfast in the morning. I'll fix you waffles.”

Kevin grinned and left. Erma's house rules were simple. With the exception of her studio he had free rein of the place unless she had an overnight male guest or told him otherwise. She in turn would honor his privacy when it came to any overnight guests, but he was forbidden from throwing large noisy parties
without prior permission and he could not have a roommate move in unannounced.

He hurried in his truck to Kim's dorm. The last he'd heard she was scheduled to move into her room that day. He checked at the desk, discovered she had arrived, and asked the student resident assistant to ring her room. There was no answer. The girl didn't know if she was in the building but doubted it. There were just too many parties going on all over town.

He hotfooted it to the student union building and found it almost deserted, except for several students busy at a table making posters protesting the draft. He wandered around for a while checking all the outside areas where he'd seen students congregate hoping to find her. After one last try at the dorm thinking she might have just gone out for coffee or a snack with her roommate, he gave up and drove dejectedly back to his apartment.