Barney had to be careful not to speed. He was so excited to get to his destination, but needed to curtail his emotion.
His rusty, 1970 Vista Cruiser Station Wagon, a car he shared with his mom, sounded like it might stall at any moment, but it kept puttering along, much the same way young Barney Bussett displayed such a persistence in accomplishing his task. His solo expedition was about to be rewarded. With a simple sign.
"Welcome to Dripping Springs," the boy said triumphantly as he read aloud the message on the old green and white road sign. "Ah, Gateway to the Hills of Texas...I made it. I can't believe I'm here."
The two-hour car ride was well worth it. Barney was making - what he felt was - a very important trip.
"The birthplace of my goddess," he said happily aloud.
It was a dry and windy day, as clouds of dirt and dust blew across the deserted road. But to Barney, everything about it was warm and welcoming.
And his car pushed along as the boy read from a piece of note paper bearing specific directions.
********************
Back in Temple, the Parker house was full of spirit.
Carrie and daughter Janet sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast with Ms. Krendall and daughter Madison, getting into a heated but all-the-while friendly discussion about local politics.
"She wasn't born in Texas," Carrie repeated for the up-teenth time, with much more emphasis. "If you weren't born in Texas, then you're not a Texan."
"Jeez, Mom, that's kind of smug," Janet kidded her mom, as the girl popped another home fry into her mouth.
"I'm not saying you can't LIVE here," Carrie stressed. "It's just...if you want to run for mayor, then I feel you should have lived here your whole life."
Carrie was at her best, and looking her best. She loved a good debate, and sat confidently at the table, casual in a pair of khaki shorts and a white cotton tee.
Rebecca Wanstedt was the woman that had become such a topic of discussion at the Parker kitchen table on this lovely morning. Ms. Wanstedt was running for mayor of Temple, and she was also a dear friend of Krendy's.
Although Carrie supported some of Wanstedt's policies and plans to improve the town, she couldn't get past the simple fact she was a transplant from Oklahoma City.
The issue shed light on Carrie's love of Texas, and Temple, and of course her family in particular. She always wanted to protect herself and her loved ones against any outside influences that could change their dearly-treasured way of life.
"I swear, Carr," Krendy told her friend, calling her Carr for short as she often did, even in a small but intense debate like this one. "If you would just give her a chance, you would love her. She could really make Temple better."
"Easy for you to say - you live in Houston," Carrie fired back gusto, smiling as she took a bite of crispy, buttered toast.
"I pleaded with her to move to Fall Creek - when they were starting that new development," Krendy argued, as the two young girls at the table rolled their eyes at one another, hoping this political discussion would soon end. "I would have loved to have her as a neighbor. God, you're lucky she lives out your way now."
Somewhat bored by the discussion, Janet and Maddy entertained themselves by making funny faces at one another. It was a spirited way to start the day.
But their mothers, however, were still caught up in their discussion.
"What would you say if I set up a meeting between you two, with you and Rebecca?" Krendy suggested to Carrie, proud that she had such pull with the mayoral candidate.
"Fine. If it will make you happy, Krendy, I'm all for it," Carrie teased, taking her plate and some of the other dishes over to the sink.
Deborah took that as a moral victory, but wasn't satisfied.
"What do you girls think? Are you as stubborn as my dear friend here, and wouldn't vote for Ms. Wanstedt simply because she's not a native Texan, or are you more liberated and advanced in your thinking and would realize she is simply the best person for the job, regardless of her place of birth?" Krendy asked, speaking both fluently and confidently.
"Krendy, dear, please don't break your ankles when you're getting down off your soap box," Carrie teased her buddy.
Deborah, in turn, tossed a wash cloth at her longtime chum.
"I'd vote for her," Maddy simply said, running her hand along her right leg, enjoying the feel of her cotton pajama bottoms.
"There, ya' see?" Krendy responded. "And what do you think, Janet?"
Carrie's precocious daughter, who was busy running her hands through her hair as she pondered how to wear it on this day, was somewhat caught off guard by the question.
"I don't know, Aunt Deb," she mumbled, tossing another home fry into her mouth. "I can't vote."
Both of the girls, still dressed in their PJ's, kept cracking smiles at one another, basically saying 'why are they asking us such serious questions. It's summer time for crying out loud?!'
"Hypothetically, darling," Krendy persisted. Janet took a deep breath and exhaled, groaning a bit, and then brought her hands down from her hair, letting them loudly smack her thighs.
"Um. I have to stick with my mom on this one - gotta have Parker unity," the girl said, smiling at her mother. "If she's not born here, then...I can't vote for her."
Krendy's persistence hadn't resolved anything - the issue was still split amongst the four present.
"Oh fooey, then we have a draw," she said.
Knowing that there wasn't likely to be anyone else weighing in on the topic, Krendy tried to change the opinion of the ones in the room.
"Carr, look at me, she was born in Oklahoma, 10 miles from the border mind you, then moved to Galveston when she was five - oh you're not even listening," Krendy laughed. "I give up."
Carrie, her lovely figure perfectly accentuated by her summertime attire, finished washing some of the dishes and now dried her lovely hands with a paper towel.
"Just let it go, Deb," she told her friend. "That's enough debating for today."
Krendy, for the moment, decided to be passive. She crossed her right leg over the left one, fidgeted with her skirt for a moment, and took a sip of her mint-flavored tea. But goodness, the issue was eating away at her.
Only a few moments of silence followed before Krendy pushed the friendly argument further.
"We need a tiebreaker," she said aloud. The women knew there was one more person in the Parker household that morning, possibly still in his bed, asleep. But he had become a very celebrated and popular figure, even in his absence.
