The Hard-To-Tame Texan

Buddy went into the bathroom and drank a lot of water. That was, of course, out of the toilet. Then the dog came back into the bedroom, curled down in a corner and slept. He was used to such times. Most of those times, he had been hungry because Andrew had forgotten to feed him.

When the man had remembered, the dog was eager and the man only chided the dog for being rude. Just the fact that Andrew had more dog food than was needed ought to have been some clue. Actually, Andrew only thought about himself.

So the man and dog slept that night with rumbling, complaining stomachs. It was especially strange that Andrew endured the hunger. He could have gone downstairs anytime in the night and found something in the kitchen. He was just mind-bogglingly stubborn.

So that hungry morning, Buddy considered the man more closely. He didn’t sneak looks, he observed.

Finally, the man said to the dog, “You can go out by yourself. I’ll open the door. You can leave.”

To Andrew’s surprise, the dog got up and went to the door and stood there waiting for it to be opened. The knob was high, he could not reach it. He looked at the man.

Andrew’s temper flared. He went to the door and snatched it open...and the dog was gone! Just like that.

Such an “escape” made Andrew blink. He found he was still holding the door open. He closed it gently, firmly. The dog would not get back inside unless he scratched on the panel.

Andrew smiled. If the dog scratched to get inside, the door would be marked. Okay. He’d just wait to go down to the second breakfast. He’d just see who had control of the door.

Buddy was not back by the time Andrew heard the subtle, ringing sound for the second breakfast. And it was obvious to Andrew that if he wanted anything to eat, he would have to go downstairs, right then.

As he opened the door, he looked down both sides of the hall and saw only a few people who paid no attention to him at all.

For a man who had once been paid to be on TV to tell tales of his adventures, it was very strange not to be noticed by those people there.

They treated him as if he was—average.

The use of the word average caused Andrew to be pensive. He would despise being labeled as average. He was an adventurer. An explorer.

Andrew arrived in the dining room as the tables were being cleared. Those doing that, nodded cheerfully to the lagging person who was almost too late for the meal. They offered serving plates that had been almost cleared off, but there were tidbits still available.

The laggard guest was so hungry that he didn’t mind taking the last of things. That made him seem ordinary to those clearing the tables. To them, he was an ordinary man who’d overslept. He was just from the hospital, wasn’t he? And his timetable might be a bit odd for a while, but he was healing quite well. There was no reason to indulge him.

The crew was tolerant. Someone brought fresh orange juice; another brought in fresh coffee. They all spoke to him. He nodded rather formally. They assumed he was starving and therefore hadn’t the time to chat. They didn’t mind.

One said, “Your dog came down and ate, then he asked to go out. Since you allowed him from your room, that way, we figured you didn’t mind if he went out by himself.”

Coldly, Andrew replied, “He is a stranger here.”

Another said in passing, “We’re keeping an eye on him.”

Andrew’s eyes lowered in irritation. How could they keep an eye on a dog that was outside? Buddy would be lost. Well, maybe not. He did pretty well by himself.

Sullenly, Andrew rubbed his stomach and felt isolated clear out there, alone, with no entourage. Being alone and traveling was very different from being in a large house where he wasn’t known. They were treating him as if he was like everyone else. How rude.

He ate enough to live on without gorging himself with food. He felt like gorging, but he knew better than to be that stupid. He did not speak or smile as any reply to those around. No one had asked if they could speak. He had not asked it of them. They were just help. He did not need to tolerate any familiarity from anyone.

He lay his napkin next to his plate and pushed his chair back to rise.

One of the crew asked, “Enough? We have some lovely fruit cobbler.”

Andrew looked coldly at the man and replied rudely, “No.”

“Good. Then I get it!” He laughed easily. Then he explained, “We flipped a penny. If you didn’t want it, I won!”

But Andrew didn’t even wait to hear what was said by who all. He’d walked out.

One of the crew said, “I’d guess...and it’s just a guess, you know, but I’ll bet some really elegant, feisty female just ditched him.”

Another considered and then nodded. “That could well be. He’s in a snit.”

But somebody else said, “He could just be a selfish bastard.”

Since they all laughed, and did know him slightly, the fact that Andrew Parsons was one, was soon known through all the Keeper help.

The house crew had already been told that Andrew Parsons was capable of walking, of eating downstairs. He could shower alone and shave himself.

While he’d slept days at the hospital, and been awake all night watching TV and visiting with the nurses, he could now walk well enough to get around on his own.

The more he did that—walking—the better his leg would be.

He selected a cane from a collection the Keepers had in a cylinder at the bottom of the stairs, and he gently, perfectly used it.

Then the staff was further cautioned that Andrew, Parsons was just about completely healed. He was capable of dressing alone and of walking by himself. The selected cane was all drama. Ignore it.

The staff was told that Andrew could share his time with other people. He was not to be pampered. That was underlined. At the hospital, the nurses were so kind they had just about ruined him. At the Keepers’ place, he was to take care of himself with minimal attention or assistance.

The crew could assist him only if he fell and could not manage to get up by himself—they paused and then aided him—only after he’d tried three times.

Andrew was not ignored. Everyone talked to him. But no one...helped him. No one arranged his plate or cut his meat or...fetched things for him.

With such obvious lack of attention, Andrew was as sulky as a spoiled child.

Of course, when any of the crew went from the Keeper Place into town, they did manage to report progress to the hospital crews. And at first, they chided the people at the hospital for corrupting Andrew Parsons so carelessly.

But those at the hospital retorted, “He was that way when we got him!”

The Keeper crew chided, “He is rock-bottom spoiled.”

The hospital staff admitted, “Well, we did let him sleep when he wanted, and he just got his days and nights mixed up a little.” They figured that admission would be enough.

The Keeper bunch said, “We’d never in the world allow something that dumb out there at our place.”

Since that hospital was where any harmed person was taken, the medical crew then said, “He was spoiled before you all ever got ahold of him. His parents didn’t even come to see him. We figured they’d abandoned him, he was so difficult. Then we found out the grandparents had been in a terrible wreck and lingered for a long old time. His daddy is now weird about hospitals.”

One of the ranch crew said softly, “Ahhhh. I don’t think I knew that. Parsons wasn’t that harmed.”

Thoughtfully the ranch crew shifted as they looked at the vast space around as if to be sure that it was still there. Then they mentioned, “He is strange. Most outdoor people really hate being trapped inside.”

So the hospital crew shared, “Readjusting him will be a challenge to you all. Good luck.” They were leaving the crew, but they all hesitated and one cautioned earnestly, “Don’t send him back to us.”