Adrian Pearson - Cow Country

Gwen straightened the feather sticking out of her headband.

“Whatever,” she said. And then: “You know, I’m even more hungry now than I was a half hour ago when you and I entered this room together. When’s the food coming?”

“Very soon.”

“I hope so. We’re all starving!”

I nodded. A few minutes later I bumped into Rusty at the urinal.

“Nice party!” he said though his arm was in a sling and he was having difficulty managing the zipper.

“Thanks,” I answered. “What happened to your arm?”

“It’s a long story….”

“They usually are around here!”

“And I don’t want to get into it.”

“I understand. Please know that I really do appreciate you coming tonight. And I think it’s great that you and all the other animal science faculty have taken to dressing up as cowboys!”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re playing the role of cowboys, right? The cowboy boots. The hat. The jeans and plaid shirt. The bolo tie…!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Nobody’s dressing up ….”

He looked hurt. I apologized and Rusty went back outside to sit with his colleagues.

In the men’s room the air was moist and scented from the aromatic pads of the urinal. My costume was lying untouched in the duffel bag.

“Are you still in here?” said Raul. “I thought you were going to put on your costume?”

“I am.”

“So how long does it take to do that? It’s been more than thirty minutes since you came in here. Bessie noticed you were missing. I figured I should come and check on you….”

“Really? Time flies, doesn’t it?”

“Are you okay?”

“Of course I am. Why do you ask?”

“You seem distant. Your eyes are not just red anymore but crystal clear — and not in a good way. As if they were pools of transparent water affording a view of the murkiest depths of human suffering. You seem calm and composed. It’s not like you, Charlie. And it worries me.”

“I’m fine, Raul. I appreciate the concern. But I just need to get this costume on so I can join the party….”

“Is that gun loaded? The one still sitting in that duffel bag over there?”

“Yes, it is. Cool, huh?”

“I suppose. Just be careful with it. You know what they say about loaded firearms and good intentions. In any case, I guess we’ll see you outside in the cafeteria when you’re changed….”

A few minutes later Bessie and Raul came up to where I was standing by the entrance under the welcome banner:

“The party looks good, Charlie!”

“Thanks,” I said. “I did put a lot of planning into it.”

“We’ve heard. When are you going to change into your costume?”

“Very soon. I’ve got it right here in my duffel bag….”

Bessie left to get a beer and when she came back the three of us surveyed the lively scene.

“Who’s that?” I asked.

“That’s one of the Dimwiddles,” she said.

“And that young man over there with the handheld electronic device?”

“That’s our student body president, the future and the fate of our society.”

“And the girl next to him? The one with the baby?”

“That’s Rusty’s teenage daughter. She’s still claiming it was a virgin birth.”

“And that figure over there? The morose one sitting by himself?”

“That’s the man from the Champs d’Elysees. The one you met on your ride into town.”

“I almost didn’t recognize him. He looks so old !”

“Yeah, well, time does tend to fly. And youth comes and goes….”

I splashed more water on my face.

When I went back to the party, the revelry was all-consuming. In the faint light of the incandescent menorah Dr. Felch approached me for the first time. He was dressed as Santa Claus and his words reeked of liquor, the bell at the tip of his Santa’s hat was somewhat tilted, his fake beard slightly askew.

“Jesus Fucking Christ!” he exclaimed. “Where the hell have you three been?!”

Bessie smiled at her ex-husband and gave him a light kiss on his cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Bill,” she said. “Cute hat!”

“Good evening, sir!” Raul added. “And feliz navidad !”

“Yeah, well frère jaques to you too….”

Bessie made her way past her ex-husband back into the crowded cafeteria. Raul, after patting Dr. Felch on the shoulder and wishing him a merry Christmas in English, followed her and the two quickly dissolved into the teeming crowd.

Turning back to Dr. Felch, I said:

“I’m really sorry to be so late, sir. But I had to visit Will in his moment of need.”

“You said you’d be back by noon !”

“That was my plan, yes. But we ended up staying much longer than I’d envisioned. We had to stay well into the afternoon — quite a ways past two, in fact — to find out how the history of the world will end.”

“And how will it end?”

“Efficiently.”

“Well, that’s all fine and good. But why’d you take Bessie on your adventure? Without her I couldn’t find my damn notebook with the notes you left me. Without my notes I’ve had to wing everything by memory and intuition. I’ve had to improvise the agenda every step of the way….”

And here Dr. Felch told me how, by memory, he’d begun the party with a rousing benediction followed, intuitively, by the opening of the wet bar. From there he’d proceeded straight to the apple-bobbing and musical chairs. Then the piñatas and pony rides. The dunking tank. The ring toss. At some point he remembered to go back for the awards presentation and the costume contest — and just in the nick of time — even combining the two separate activities into a single event in an inspired stroke of executive decision-making and organizational efficiency. After that came the rousing karaoke performances, the foot massages, the kissing booth under the mistletoe.

“It’s been an uphill battle all the way,” he sighed.

I nodded.

“You have no idea how hard it is to find mistletoe in Cow Eye!”

I nodded again.

“Let alone a priest to bless the menorah.”

We talked for some time. Finally, I swallowed hard and said, “Excuse me, sir, I need to go to the restroom to change into my costume….”

When I came back Dr. Felch was in the same place talking with a secretary.

“Is that an accreditor over there?” I asked.

“It is. They missed their bus. So they’ll be joining us for the festivities tonight.”

“Oh no!”

“Oh, yes . And they’re not the only ones. Over there you have the Dimwiddle heirs. And over there you have the adjuncts. At that table along the wall next to the glory hole is where our student leaders are sitting. And across from them is the dignitary table with the mayor and his wife, the county engineer, the local high school football coach, his niece, and three successful alumni who now run their own enterprises at the Purlieus. It’s a lot of diversity in such a small cafeteria. It’s a heck of a lot of inclusiveness, Charlie. Oh, and you just missed Merna. She left a few minutes before you came….”

“Merna Lee was here? But I thought she was dead?”

“ Dead ?! What made you think that?”

“Well, everyone keeps talking about her as if she’s dead. Remember, you all had that poignant remembrance for her at the river? You even scattered her ashes…!”

“She’s not dead — my god, Charlie — she’s retired ! Despite some overlap, the two concepts are distinct….”

“But what about the remembrance you all held for her? Why conduct a remembrance for someone who’s still alive?!”

“Why not ? Or should we only remember the dead? Shouldn’t we also remember the living with the same degree of affection? Why should we always wait for a thing to pass into history before we fondly pay homage to it?”