Sandy had seen her at the same time.Hewatched her lithe figure stop when she saw him and openly stare.Hehad half listened to Dave on his right, talking about his new poem.Her face was beautifully framed with those soft curls of blackhair.What was it he found so attractive about women with dark eyesand hair?
Sandy muttered a few ‘heys’ to the variousmen assembled and tried not to look back at Lily.But he couldn’thelp it.She looked so natural in jeans, light blue shirt and vest.She looked like she had lived here all her life.Her teacherclothes definitely didn’t do her figure justice and he had evenloved the skirt and blouse she wore that day in the classroom whenthey met.But in jeans –Whew…His mind was drawing blankswhen he finally heard, “Sandy, are you listening to me?”from anagitated voice.
He looked over to the voice’s source andfound Amy Breen tugging on his sleeve and saying his name, “Sandy,earth to Sandy.Anyone home?”He came out of his reverie about Lilyto focus on Amy.
“Yes, Amy, I’m here.What do you want?”
“Jesse and Arturo are playing just fine withno evidence of being tired.Are you sure you can’t go to the dancewith me after the gathering?”A syrupy sweet voice tried to changehis mind.
“I’m beat, Amy.Really, the only thing I wantto do tonight is escape to my living room, build a fire and put myfeet up, without the boots.”Sandy tried to smile with hishalf-hearted attempt at levity, but he knew Amy wasn’t buying.Hersmile didn’t meet her eyes.
“Have you met the new teacher, Lily Cable?”Her friendly but detached voice now tried to lure him in.“She’sfrom San Francisco, I hear.Can’t trust those Californians, youknow.”
“Oh, come on.That’s crap and you know it.And yes, I’ve met Miss Cable.She’s Jesse’s teacher and he lovesher.She seems very nice from the little I’ve spoken to her.”Sandyautomatically glanced at Lily sitting in the second row as hespoke.She still looked good.
Meanwhile, Lily had turned her attention tothe nice couple on her right.They were from Reno and were chattingwith her about another cowboy poetry festival in Elko, Nevada.Lilywanted to absorb as much Western culture as she could.It suddenlyseemed very important to her to learn and appreciate as much aspossible.Nodding to the couple beside her, Lily wondered about herattitude.Where was this newfound interest coming from?Why did shewant to know so much about this culture all of a sudden?With ajolt, she glanced at the announcer on stage turning on themicrophone.A loud popping sound came from the microphone and theman cleared his throat.
After waiting for the applause to die down,he began.“Thanks for comin’ tonight, folks.We’ve got one heckavalineup for you: Dave Hamey from Elko, Dan Michaels from Tonopah,also…”
He continued down the list until Lily heardhim say, “And last, but certainly not least, our very own SandyJohnson!Let’s hear it for this incredible collection of cowboypoets!”
The audience literally hooted and hollered.Lily didn’t think audiences actually did that after 1860.
First up was Dave Hamey who had won severalNevada literary arts awards.He wore his signature huge, graycowboy hat with silver piping around the broad brim.Dave spoke ofhis days working on Nevada ranches as a cowboy.His poetrycaptivated Lily with the meter and rhyme and the way he would spinhis Western tales.The cadence of his poetry was hypnotic and Lilyfound herself tapping her feet and imagining the sights he wasdescribing.The audience broke into thunderous applause when hefinished.It was easy to see why Dave had won various awards andhad performed his poetry in festivals and on TV shows all over theworld.The man was a rock star!
And on and on it went.Each man looked likethe fictional Marlboro Man and spoke like Robert Frost or FredericRemington or some other magnificent poet.Their poems’ imagerywould rouse the audience with high intensity with one poem and makethem cry with the next.Cadences were fast, slow, swing, stop.Every time a poem ended, the audience would hold its collectivebreath waiting for the next line that never came.Applause eruptedagain and again.
Lily was surprised at the intensity andinvolvement of the audience.She didn’t think that Robert Frost, asgood an American poet as he was, could elicit this kind of responsefrom an audience.Cowboys certainly were a special breed.
Lily bent down to pick up her ticket that hadfallen on the ground.She looked up to see Sandy Johnson on thestage watching her.She straightened immediately and pushed backthe hair that had fallen in her face.This guy seemed to unnerveher with a look!
Sandy rose from his seat and took themicrophone mid-stage.
A hush fell over the audience as if this wasthe cowboy they had all come to hear.Lily looked around at thereverential faces sitting by her.Maybe he was special too.
Sandy began to speak and he was eloquent.Hispoems were of loving and loss, of guilt and redemption.Lily’s eyeswidened and her lips parted when he spoke of his love for the landwhere he was born.His poems flowed with passion for the life hewas proud to live.Sandy used particular rhymes and meters thatmade Lily suspicious he had been an English major at one time.Whoelse knows about internal rhyme and iambic pentameter?One poem wasso vivid in imagery that Lily could picture the scene with thehorses fleeing for their lives and lightning striking all aroundthem.Imaginary smoke from the wildfires filled her nostrils.
Most of the time he closed his eyes whenreciting his poetry, almost like it was too personal to share.Lilyknew how he felt.She had only gotten up her nerve to read a few ofher poems to students last year.Her poetry was very personal andsharing was too hard sometimes.She hadn’t wanted to ever share herpoetry again after her last involvement.The guy couldn’t have careless.But Sandy was… different.Lily felt she might, just might, beable to share some of her poems with him: a man who wrote hisown.
His last poem spoke of longing for the rightperson to share his life and how hard it was to find that person.Sandy opened his eyes and recited it looking right at Lily.
She stared back at him as if hypnotized.Whata moment!It was like inPride and Prejudicewhen Mr.Darcycast a long look at Elizabeth Bennett in the drawing room,signaling an attachment between them.An equal understanding passedbetween Sandy and Lily.
Lily quit breathing while Sandy was speaking.She sucked in a gulp of air when he finished.They smiled at eachother and the audience broke into a sustained applause.All thepeople assembled stood up to give him a standing ovation.The othercowboy poets came over to shake his hand and pat him on the back.Sandy was apparently the hit of the evening and everyone crowdedthe stage to shake his hand.Soon Lily couldn’t see him anymore andshe sat back in her chair breathlessly.The Reno couple said theirgood-byes and left.Nice couple.She was happy to have metthem.
Lily was so impressed with Sandy’s poetrythat she was dumbstruck.Never in her life had she heard a manspeak that way!Cowboys… She grabbed her purse and started for theaisle.The stage was still a mob scene with well-wishers for allthe cowboy poets.Sandy was nowhere to be seen, so she turned toleave and saw he was walking up to her.Jesse ran up first,breathless and smiling his crooked grin.
“Miss Cable!Did you hear Daddy?Wasn’t hegreat?I never heard that last poem before though.When did youwrite that one, Daddy?Huh?”Jesse tilted his little face at Sandyand then Lily.
Lily and Sandy stared at each other for along moment.
Clearing his throat, Sandy asked, “What didyou think, Lily?”He clutched tightly to his hat, turning it aroundand around.
She choked and had to start again.
“I can hardly find the words to say…howfabulous your performance was.You wrote all those beautiful poems?The imagery, the rhyme, the stories…I didn’t know people wrote likethat anymore.Not in this century at least.”Lily was babbling.Sandy seemed to relax and smiled.He looked at his son.
“And Jesse, I wrote that last poem lastnight.What did you think of it?”
