“Your mother and I will be in Reno for the whole week,” Jake Holloway said at dinner that night. He sat at the head of the rectangular table, opposite him sat his second wife, the mother of David and Dorothy. Vic and Len sat on the right side of the table, Dorothy and David on the left. “We'll be leaving on the early train so I want Vic and Len to drive us to the station. You boys will also be responsible for making sure everything gets done while we're gone,” he continued. “Sure, dad,” said Vic. “You don't have a thing to worry about, just have a good time.” He shook his head.
“You don't understand. When I say responsible I mean keeping out of the way of Ben, my foreman. He can take care of the feeding and everything that's necessary, that's what I pay him for. You boys will be expected to show up for your regular jobs… he'll tell you what to do.” Len made a disappointed face. “But, dad…” “No buts!”
Jake said firmly. “And I expect you two to show up too! I've had enough of this skipping your jobs just because your father's the boss.” “What about him?” asked Vic pointing at David. David looked up with surprise. “What's he supposed to do while you're gone?
Sit in his room and play the flutee tootee?” Jake scowled at Vic.
“David just got out of school for the summer. He'll have to help Dorothy take care of the house this week. When I get back he'll be assigned a job at the feed lots right along with you roughnecks.”
“How come he gets to wait until you're back?” Len asked.
Jake's face was getting redder each second. “Because Ben will have enough on his hands trying to keep track of you two, that's why!
I'm not gonna dump a new trainee on him too! When I get back I'll show him his job and see he learns it right… I don't think he'll have too hard a time doing better than you two.” If they weren't at the dinner table Vic would have spit. “Him? Hell, he can't even stand the smell of a clean steer let alone the ones in the feed lots!” Jake let his sons have their laugh before saying, “Can't say I blame him.
He's not like you two who never even try to wash it off.” Dorothy started to giggle but a quick glance from her mother silenced her.
Whenever Jake was reprimanding his sons Dorothy, David, and their mother kept out of it. But as usual the sons didn't know when to stop.
“Well, maybe he can vacuum and do dishes as well as he can play his flute,” mumbled Len. “Make somebody a nice little housewife someday,” added Vic. Jake let the comments pass and Dorothy looked over at David to see if he was angry. But David continued to eat and seemed oblivious to Vic and Len. She wondered how he was able to let their crude, insulting remarks never bother him. Why he just didn't seem to care one way or the other. Len grinned. “Maybe we should find him a herd of sheep to take care of with his flute. He can toe-dance under a tree and watch all the little lambs.” “That's enough boys,” mumbled Jake. Vic and Len starting giggling and became silent while the rest of the dinner was eaten. Afterwards David volunteered to do the dishes for his mother. “I'm sure you've got packing to do, mom,” he said. As he was in the kitchen Len and Vic came back in to watch and snicker. “Don't get dishpan hands, Davee,” sang Len. “You don't want to be all red and chafed. Maybe you'll need some hand lotion afterward?” Dorothy was drying, she spun around and snapped, “Why don't you creeps lay off?” “Ooooo!” giggled Vic. “Is little sister sticking up for her sweet little brother? Can't he defend himself? Huh? He needs a girl to protect him?” “Same difference,” cracked Len. “If he protects himself it would be just like fighting with a girl!” “Hah ha ha!” guffawed Vic. “He'd probably spit and scratch just like a pissed-off kitten!”
“Get out!” screeched Dorothy. “Shhhh…” David quietly whispered to her. She looked over at him and saw the same composed, unaffected expression. Dorothy went back to the dishes and did her best to ignore the childlike catcalls and whistles of Len and Vic as they left. After the dishes were done David went to his room and the soft strains of his gentle flute music filled the attic. Dorothy was still bothered by the antics of their stepbrothers and knew they would have to contend with them for a full week alone. She went up the stairs to the attic bedroom and knocked. The music stopped. “Come in,” David said. She entered the room and sat next to him on the bed. He looked so clean, so beautiful half lying against the headboard in his white tee-shirt and gently waving blond hair, that Dorothy wanted to immediately kiss him, comfort him, make all the hurt he must be suffering go away. He smiled, flawless white teeth glistened at her and she smiled back. Her teeth were as straight, as gleaming white.
“How can you take it?” she asked. “You mean the ribbing from the he-men?” he asked with a slight tilt of his head. “Yeah. Why don't you say something back?” He shrugged and placed the long, intricately constructed silver flute across his legs. “It wouldn't do any good. It would most likely just make things worse.” “I just don't understand how you can keep from screaming back at them.”
“Sometimes it's hard.” “Don't you want to change them? Make them look at you differently?” she asked. “You mean prove to them I'm not the little fairy they think I am?” he asked. Dorothy couldn't look at him. She didn't know what to say, he brought it up so matter-of-factly. But his hand reached out and tenderly lifted her chin up until their eyes met. “Face it, sis, they're not the only ones. Most of the guys at school consider me some kind of queer… maybe I am.” “Huh?” she asked with surprise. He laughed. “I don't mean it that way. I'm not a homosexual. But I'm also not the type of guy who's going to win any ribbons at a rodeo. I'm thin, I'm not strong and tough, I can't stand the smell of horseshit, steer-shit, bullpiss and human body odor. Those seem to be the things all the guys around here love.” Dorothy started giggling and nodding her head with full agreement. “So face it,” he said, “I'm real queer by cowboy standards.” “But does that mean you have to put up with their abuse?” “It sure does. Vic and Len don't know anything but how to be tough, rough, bronc-riding cowboys. The only way I could shut them up would be to bash their teeth in some noon on Main Street. And you know how that would turn out, my teeth would be the bashed-in ones. I value my teeth more than I do the whole bunch of snickering jerks in this town.” “But maybe if you tried… or threatened.. David shook his head. “No. I won't waste my time.
I've got my life to live my way… and my plans.” “Plans? What plans? Is that why you can put up with it?” “It sure is.”
“What are they? What are you going to do?” she asked. Dorothy now felt close to David, closer than they'd been in months. She watched as he closed his eyes and lifted his arms up behind his neck to cradle his head. He was slim but not skinny at all, he had the build of a sleek swimmer, narrow hips, thin arms and legs. Once again she was reminded of the male models in the fashion magazines she saw.
“I'm going to do what everyone expects me to do. As soon as I'm through with school it's goodbye Texas.” “You'll go away? Where?” she asked. “New York. As far from cattle as I can get and as close to the arts as possible. I want to study music, really study it,” he said. Dorothy felt a heaviness in her stomach. “You'd leave me?” she asked. “Would you rather watch me be ridiculed by the fine gentlemen of Billford?” Dorothy wanted to throw her arms around him, hug him close and press her mouth against his she was so overcome with a feeling of loss… a feeling she had last had the day her father died. But she stood and went for the door, she didn't want to turn back because her eyes were wet, but she had to say, “Ted and I decided not to go out for a while.” “That's good,” David answered. She quickly left the room.