by Tim Sandlin
It was 3:10 P.M. and I was propped up at a table midway between GroVont Elementary and Mica's house. The house I bought Mica. The Teton Mountains sparkled over in the west. A red-tailed hawk wheeled across the cobalt sky. The weather was ideal if you like cool and the air was clear as my conscience. We don't get many days like this in GroVont in spring, where it's usually raining except for when it's snowing right through Memorial Day.
Tyson and a boy I didn't know came walking down the street, kicking a pinecone back and forth. Ty had on a blue day pack and when he turned to kick the pinecone I saw Spider-Man's web across the back. His tennis shoes were blue, too.
"Tyson."
Ty stopped and stood there in the road, looking at me. He'd grown a good inch since I last saw him, and his blond hair was cut in a burr. I couldn't tell you what the other kid looked like.
He said, "Rowdy."
"You can call me Dad if you want."
Ty didn't say anything. The other boy looked at him, then at me, then back at Ty.
I moved my feet, clearing the way to the seat next to mine. "Take a load off, son."
He looked at the other boy and mumbled words I didn't catch. Then he came across the curb, shrugging off his pack. The other boy wandered down the street, leaving the pinecone in the gutter there.
Tyson placed the day pack between us, next to my saddlebag. He pushed himself way back in the seat so his feet dangled, not quite touching the deck. He kept his hands in his lap.
"Can I get you something to drink?" I asked.
He nodded. "Hot chocolate, please."
I called the waitress over. She was a broad-shouldered girl with a ski tan and strong legs, wearing short shorts and a Guangzhou Hard Rock Cafe shirt.
"Hot chocolate for my son here."
She smiled down at Tyson. I could tell she thought better of me because I had a child. "You want whipped cream on that?"
"Yes, thank you."
She touched his head and said, "Polite young man," then she bounced inside toward the kitchen. It came to me that the waitress was closer to Ty's age than she was mine.
He nodded at my cup. "What's that you're drinking?"
"It's called espresso. I got a taste for it in Paris."
"Paris, Texas?" He asked because there's also a Paris, Idaho, but it's not very big and doesn't have a sanctioned rodeo. People outside our part of the world probably wouldn't know the town exists.
"Paris, France. I was there last fall."
The girl brought Ty's hot chocolate. When he took his first sip, the whipped cream left a thin, white mustache on his lip. I could have died right then.
"Paris is full of people who talk French," I said. "When they sell bread in the store, it doesn't come wrapped in plastic."
He wiped his face with the back of his hand. "What's it wrapped in?"
"Nothing. Just a loaf you carry home in your hand."
He glanced up at me, checking to see if I was making up a story.
"It's not sliced," I said.
"Oh."
"What's your favorite subject in school?"
"Language arts."
That stumped me. They didn't teach language arts when I went to GroVont Elementary. I didn't know what it was so I couldn't very well say, "That was my favorite, too."
"I'm learning to play piano," Tyson said. "Monroe is teaching me."
I didn't ask the obvious question but Ty told me anyway. "Monroe says if you show your face around here, there will be trouble."
"You tell this Monroe fella I'm ready whenever he is."
We let that comment lie on the table there, pretending it didn't mean much. The day was too pretty and we hadn't seen each other in so long, neither of us was in the mood for drama. Tyson swung his feet back and forth while he drank his chocolate. One of those sparrows that hangs out on outdoor decks in every country on the planet hopped on the slat next to my chair. Either of us could have kicked him to tarnation, but the sparrow seemed to know this was too civilized a coffeehouse for that to happen.
I flipped the top flap on my saddlebag and pulled out a small white box. "I brought you a present."
"What?"
I opened the box to show him the belt buckle. I'd shined it up good with Blue Magic. "It's a championship buckle. It means I rode bulls better than anybody else in Crockett County, Colorado, last year."
Tyson took the buckle in his hands. He turned it around so the writing faced him.
"Do you have a place where you put things you want to keep and not show Mom?" I asked.
He nodded.
"Put the buckle there. Whenever I'm not around and you want to remember me, you can take it out and look at it."
Ty ran his fingers over the raised gold surface on the enamel, first the bull and then the cowboy. Then he touched the words in the circle — CROCKETT COUNTY RODEO 20 BULL RIDING CHAMPION 03.
I kept my eyes on Ty's face. "Someday when you grow up, you'll be proud to own a championship buckle."
He slid off his chair into a standing position. "I have to go now."
"You didn't finish your chocolate."
"I have to go."
Ty carefully unzipped the outside pocket on his Spider-Man pack. He slid the buckle into the pack, then, just as carefully, zipped it shut.
"Can I have a hug?" I said.
He looked at me dubiously.
"A shake, then."
I held out my hand. Tyson shook hands, solemnly. After a moment, he stepped forward between my knees and hugged me around the belly. I bent over and hugged back. His hair smelled good. Little boy good. Earlier I'd thought the hug from Odette was the hug I'd remember when I got senile, but now I changed that. This was the hug that made going on worth the mess.
"No matter what your mom or anyone else says, you know that I love you, son."
Ty nodded his face against my chest. Then he stepped back and picked up his pack. As he started to walk away, I said, "What do you say, Ty?"
He stopped and looked at me. "Thankyou."
Tyson walked on down the street without looking back. I watched till he turned the corner, then I signaled the waitress. "Bring another espresso if you would."
"Another double?"
"You bet."
AUTHOR'S NOTE
The first Starbucks in Paris opened its doors on Friday, January 16, 2004. By the next Monday, there were two. As of the end of the year, ten Starbucks stores were up and running in the city of light. All are successful and all opened without incident.
SELF-EVIDENT TRUTHS
1.The world over, cowboys are the envy of honest men and heart's desire of adventuresome women.
2.You can't tell a virgin by her face.
3.Foreplay changes the nature of interesting.
4.You can't hit every asshole you run into.
5.If you don't stretch regular, the falls will break you.
6.You can never knock on wood too often in a tunnel.
7.Sleeping-next-to is at least as intimate as banging.
8.The only thing worse than finding out you were wrong when you prejudged a person's character is to find out you were right.
9.If you sleep with enough people, sooner or later, you'll fall for one of them.
10.You only get a certain number of knockouts in life, before you go away and don't make it all the way back.
11.Love is more important than saving your culture.
12.Never make assumptions about foreign women.
