Boating on the Brazos - May 26, 1972
Parked at the Piggly Wiggly, listening to Charlie Pride on my eight track while waiting to meet up with my best bud Slick Henderson. Excited about what lies ahead of us this day as we're headed to the river. Slick and I always running together. If you saw him you could hold your breath till you saw me.
Slick is a big young man. Thick, muscular and strong. Wearing thick lensed glasses that distort his eyes somewhat. One night, not too long ago, police arrested him because of the way his eyes look. Lawdog thought he was on drugs. He wasn't. He spent the night in Somerville County jail. He got a long lecture from the Justice of the Peace the next morning as I bailed him out. He's not a bad looking fellow but with those thick glasses he is kind of a funny looking. Not funny haha but a "quarter bubble off plumb" kind of funny.
Got a case of Lone Star longnecks iced down in the cooler, one in my hand as I take a long pull on the bottle. We spend a goodly amount of time on the river this time of year. Slick has a boat and we like to water ski a lot. Sometimes we pull it around town on the main drag just because we think we look cool with a ski boat trailing the truck.
Slick pulls his truck up beside mine and before I can get out he hollers, "You get the beer?"
"Hell yeah!"
I hand him a cold one before loading the ice chest into the boat. He has Conway Twitty playing on the tape deck as I get in. He is singing along and backhands me in the arm as I get settled in. "What was that for?"
He is grinning big and says, "Fuck you, that's what for!" We both laugh. "Well, fuck you too!"
Slick pulls off the parking lot and turns south on Main St. We are headed to Chisholm Trail Park on the Brazos. Its an area where the river is deep and wide, perfect for skiing. We have a thirty minute drive to get to there. For the first ten minutes Slick is singing along with Conway and I am lost in my thoughts. Slick interrupts my daydreaming with a question.
"You know what we're missing?"
"What?"
"Girls. What we need are a couple of good ole girls with us on the river."
"Well. . . yeah, but where we gonna find girls between here and the river?"
"I've got an idea."
Where we should have gone straight on hwy. 171 to get to the river, Slick turns left toward the town of Blum. I keep my mouth shut but am wondering why in the hell we're going into Blum.
Turning into the Blum High School parking lot I exclaim, "What the hell are we doing here?"
Slick grinning ear to ear, says, "We are going to go in here and find us a couple of good ole girls to go with us."
"Are you insane? . . . They'll run us out as soon as we step in the front door."
"Maybe, maybe not. Listen, I used to date Sally Munger and we both know several other girls here, so we're going in and see if we can find a couple that would like to go skiing. Are you up for it? Besides, all they can do is to tell us to leave, am I right?"
We get out of the truck and head toward the front door of the school. Slick fearless, ready to enter where angels fear to tread; me full of fear and trepidation praying they won't call the one town policeman to haul us out of there.
We are a sight to behold as we are both dressed for skiing; cowboy hats, tee shirts, cut off jean shorts and raggedy Chuck Taylors. I'm thinking, "There's no way we're getting in and out of here without trouble."
The building is not air conditioned and all doors and windows are open to invite a cooling breeze through the building. We enter the front doors, the building is quiet as a morgue. We hear the slight murmur of a teacher lecturing. We take a glance into the open principal's office and no one notices us. We were like St. Peter being led out of prison by the angel, all doors were open and no guard could see us.
We turn left into the east wing scanning each open class room to find any students that we might know. As we peer into a classroom almost to the end of the hall, we spy Sally Munger. She sees us and pops up out of her desk and comes out into the hall. In a loud whisper she asks, "What are you two doing here?"
We explain our interest in having female companionship for the afternoon's boating and ask if she can get another girl and they head to the river with us.
"I'll get Betty and we'll meet you at the boat ramp in an hour."
Slick and I walk out of the school pretty pleased with ourselves. I'm amazed that we are in and out without any trouble and we've got two girls to go on the river with. It's gonna be a great day.
We tool on down to Chisholm Trail Park boat ramp and get the boat in the water. A game warden had just put his patrol boat in the water and he came over to check us out.
"You fellers got any fishing tackle
on board, I need to see your fishing license."
"No sir, no fishing tackle, we're just going skiing."
"How many floatation devices ya'll got on board?"
"We've got five and there is going to be four people on board when our girlfriends get here."
"Well, looks like ya'll are in good shape. Have a good time on the river."
"Yes, sir, we will!"
Yes sir. . . we were feeling awfully cocky right now. Two young ladies to accompany us on this beautiful day with an ice chest full of beer and a tank full of gas. For two young white Southern boys, we were at the gates of Valhalla.
Slick eased the boat out into the center of the river and we slowly cruised down stream absorbing the peacefulness of the Brazos. Heads back, inhaling deeply, we consumed the aroma of the river, the smell of growing things, earthy, moist, slightly fishy at times. The intoxicating incense tranquilizing our minds and bodies.
We shortly returned to the boat ramp and the girls were there waiting on us. Dressed in tee shirts over bikinis, they seemed to be as excited as we were to get this party started.
Slick put the prow of the boat up onto the sandy bank. I reached out to assist Sally onto the boat and then Betty. When I took hold of Betty's hand I experienced an electric tingle up my right arm down my spine and into my scrotum. I was immediately caught up in a reverie of how our lives would be together. I saw us walking down through the sands of time. Always together, always in love. I could see our four children, good looking, intelligent and brave. We lived in a cottage on a farm in the Texas hill country where we grew peaches and ran a roadside fruit stand. Always and continually together. Betty forever young, beautiful and strong; loving me with an everlasting love. We were walking down a long path reminiscing on our lives together. As we stopped by a stream to watch that evening sun go down, she turned to me and asked, "Shall we go home?"
A giggle brought me back to reality. Another giggle and Betty asked, "Colum, can I have my hand back?"
Her beauty had struck me a solar plexis blow. She was short of stature with long dark brown hair and the darkest of brown eyes combined with just a smattering of freckles across her nose. She possessed a thickness of body that was most pleasant in my sight. I was in love now and forever, amen.
Red-faced, I released her hand, mumbling an apology. She laughed.
With the ladies on board we headed up river to look around and drink a few beers before getting down to the business of skiing. We quickly fell into a comfortable camaraderie. We were young, wild and free, enjoying every moment that life had to give.
We set out the ski rope and ski. Slick jumped in and I took the wheel. Slick is a hell of a good skier. I would try to cause him to fall by going full speed then pull back the throttle till the boat was nearly stopped. He would sink into the water and then I would hit full throttle again. He never fell. Never went down. I on the other hand always went down too easily, I was not a good skier, but I truly did enjoy it.
We put Sally in the water next and pulled her around till she fell. When she was ready to go again with the rope outstretched she gave the signal to take off. I was standing in the boat and noticed a snake swimming across the current in between the boat and Sally.
"'Slick, don't take off. There's a water moccasin in between us and Sally. Let's just wait till it passes or she will go right over it. She can't see it."
So we sat for a few moments. Sally calling out, "Let's go! What's the matter?"
The snake swam on clearing the path. Sally was up and skiing again. When Sally was tired out and back in the boat, we told her about the snake. It freaked her out more than a little. Betty wanted no part of being in the water after seeing the snake.
So, we slowly cruised up the river, enjoying the scenery, the beer and each other's company. Slick spotted a copse of willow trees where the limbs were hanging down over the water's edge. He pulled the boat under the overhanging limbs granting us some modicum of privacy in the shade. I jumped out and tied the boat off to a tree trunk to keep it from drifting off.
Slick and Sally got comfortable on the rear bench of the boat. Betty and I on a padded bench in the front. We made small talk getting to know one another. Sitting close . . . a couple of quick kisses . . . a little cuddling . . . a few more kisses not so quick.
I pulled out a joint. "Would you like to smoke with me?"
She smiled big and nodded yes. I sparked it and took a deep draw, handed it to her and she expertly took a lung full of the sweet smoke. In short order we both were sitting there with dopey grins and squinty bloodshot eyes. Laughing. High. Lost in our own little world together, totally unaware that there was anyone else on the river but us.
I was staring at her face. Totally enamored. Trying to memorize each feature. I was high enough that the freckles on her nose had begun to dance and I was entertained by their antics. She took a deep draw on what was left of the joint, smiled and then exhaled the smoke directly in my face. My eyes watered and I wiped them with the back of my hand to clear my vision. She giggled, looked me in the eyes and asked, "Would you like to see my breasts?"
I couldn't speak . . . I just nodded. She smiled and then took off her bikini top revealing the most breathtaking sight ever seen in my young life. I reached and took one breast in each hand and simply marveled at the curved beauty unveiled. Hers were small breasts but O so perfectly proportioned with small nipples, erect and hard as stones. They were perfection personified.
