In August 1965, there were quite a few really special good and fun days but it seemed each one had to be 'bought' with at least one really hard, bad and ugly day. This Saturday was one of those.
Before I go on, I expect some readers may be having unanswered questions. (i.e.) Just what was Dusty's status and why I did I often express some concerns or uncertainties about our relationship? So here is a summary, as brief and direct as I can provide. When Dusty and I met in the fall of 1964, his marriage of about eighteen years was irrevocably broken. He was not living at home then. He later told me had he not met me when he did, he would have been with some of his crew that got into serious trouble (drinking, fights etc.) and were all fired by AT&SF and very likely be single despite everything once he became jobless. He had reached the point of giving up, merely existing one day at a time as he kept slogging along. He said he had no one to look up to or strive for, nothing that ‘mattered’ beyond a hope to keep contact with Johnny, his young son, and earn the child’s respect, which the boy’s mother strove constantly to destroy.
He warned me more than once when we were still simply talking never to “marry for convenience.” I was not exactly sure what he meant, having read the term in novels, yet it seemed to indicate a relatively loveless marriage, built on practical reasons or necessity, almost like arranged marriages among historical aristocrats. I learned his two children were eight years apart and he had worked construction most of those years, being away from home much of the time. If there had ever been a deep and caring bond, it no longer existed. I was not a “home wrecker,” though as time passed, I was often painted as one when facts were not known.
His wife was a devout Catholic and absolutely refused to consider divorce, saying she would take the boy and disappear if he ever filed. She also did not believe in birth control but wanted no more children—so they had not been intimate for some time and he'd moved out. He was miserable as conditions were and never expected to consider another marriage or be more than superficially attracted to or involved with anyone. He said he felt he was too old for that anyway. I only came to learn all of this gradually over a number of months. For the first year, he continued to wear the plain gold ring which no longer had any meaning. An injured knuckle made it nearly impossible to take off the ring. It was also a small safety token to ward off the railroad and construction groupies. He wanted no part of them.
I finally learned in the fall of 1965 how with the aid of an attorney friend, he'd begun to arrange a legal separation agreement to let him stay in contact and spend time with his son as it was not “a divorce” per se. In time, when the boy was older, perhaps he would go ahead and complete the break if there was a reason. The first germ of the idea had been planted, not yet a possible plan when we met.
August 14, 1965, Sat
Those damned 'talks' and it was so nearly impossible just to get up and leave. My seat at the big table was back in a corner and I would have to circle the table and go past Dad's seat by the door to leave the room. I actually suspected he might grab or trip me if I tried. So Charlie Mike and I were both grumpy. I don't remember what the mule did but Charlie Mike lost his temper. The rest of the day went little better and the afternoon storm was about the final straw. There was no huge blowup over the mule injury; that is almost odd.
Once Dusty got B&B 6 set up at Clarkdale he went back to Kingman and brought Johnny over to stay with him for most of the time until school started. That ended our evenings for a bit but we still got together, with Charlie Mike and Johnny along, a time or two most weeks. Friday, the day before, we had met them down on the river where the pasture trail took off from the road and given Johnny a ride on Prez over to where he saw the colts and the rest of the herd. Johnny was nine at this time and clearly going to be huskier than his dad but otherwise there was a strong resemblance. The boy was at that chubby stage before shooting up in another year or two as puberty approached. His sandals shocked me; clearly his mother's choice, which I felt very inappropriate. She was definitely not a westerner!
Pictures are scarce. I never took one of Johnny and I guess never a shot that showed the area we called the Fishing Hole, where our trail to the pasture went along the riverside. More horses at the pasture corrals. Goodness knows I spent enough time there and Dusty often came out also. Back to the equines. First, Patsy and Bunny--Patsy the mother of Patrick and Twinkles, and Bunny of Little Dusty. Charlie Mike (or maybe me) with Tina and Rico. about a month old. (Rico and Little Dusty were close in age.) Peppy and Bunny, both from Gallup NM and home on September 12, 1964.
No comments:
Post a Comment