On Tuesday I was working the counter. For most of the day it was fine. It was always slow that day. Not a lot went down during the early part of the week. We spent most of our time counting money and making sure our drawers added up. Counter duty meant standing there, looking friendly, waiting for little old ladies to deposit checks they received from the government.
It was a surprise when the cowboy walked into the bank. He waited in line, letting some city workers go in front of him so he would get me instead of one of my co-workers. He was a tall, lean white man with golden curls hanging down from his head. He wore blue jeans and a white, collared rockabilly shirt. He held his cowboy hat in his left hand cupped against his leg.
He sauntered up without a deposit slip in his hand. He leaned against the counter like it was a bar. He took a long look around the bank before turning his attention to me. He looked me up and down, sizing me up.
"Your name Luke?" he asked.
I darted my eyes to the name plate resting on the front of the counter. I hoped he hadn't noticed it. I could always claim I wasn't Luke, that I was working the counter while he was on lunch and I hadn't switched the name plates.
I wasn't the only nervous person in the bank. Jeff had his hand on the butt of his pistol, ready to draw if the cowboy started anything. Ever since Beth robbed the place Jeff had been ready to shoot anyone dressed vaguely in western gear. If a pickup truck rolled into the parking lot Jeff was out of his chair and on guard.
I didn't trust Jeff's shaky aim. I knew he had been a cop before he retired, but I also saw the micro-tremors in his hand when he re-filled his coffee cup. This cowboy was putting my life in danger and didn't even realize it.
"Yes, I'm Luke. How may I help you?"
He leaned in a bit closer, whispering which sounded more like a growl, "You the fella' who's been fucking my wife?"
"I don't think so?"
He sucked in a breath through his teeth, hissing, "See, a little bird told me that my Lizzie was seein' a guy named Luke who works here at this bank. So is that you or is there another Luke workin' here?"
"No, I'm the only Luke who works here, but I don't know anyone named Lizzie."
"Lizzie. Short for Elizabeth. Figure it out, dummy."
Once he said it I felt instantly stupid. Maybe he was confused, but that was a coincidence beyond the realm of reality.
I kept hoping that Beth was pulling a prank on me. When he said “wife” my mind went reeling and I wasn't able to think straight. I wanted him to be one of Beth's cowboy friends she told to come in and rile me up. It wasn't even close to April Fool's day. Maybe she got bored.
Except that wasn't true either. The smoldering look in the cowboy's eyes told me that it was true. As casually as I could I looked at his hand. His knuckles were gnarled with scar tissue. There was a glimmer of gold wrapped around his ring finger.
"I wanna' have a few words with you."
"I...I get a break in twenty minutes," I stammered.
"That's good. I'm gonna' get lunch at that diner I saw outside," he pointed his thumb at the window towards Fox's Fixin's, a diner everyone at the bank was familiar with, "I'll see you there in twenty."
He nodded at me then turned away. He took a step, stopped, then turned around again. He pointed his finger at me like it was a gun, "Don't make me hunt you down."
The cowboy sauntered towards the door, putting his hat on in the process. He tipped it towards Jeff who didn't respond in any way, he only stared. No cowboy, no matter how friendly, would ever be okay in his eyes. To top it all off the cowboy held the door open for a woman pushing a stroller into the bank. When he tipped his hat at her she actually blushed.
I took an opportunity to go to the bathroom. Technically against the rules but the bank was dead and my manger had the day off. The moment the door was closed and locked I called Beth. I had to know if the cowboy was legit. If it was all a prank, a notion that seemed more and more unlikely with every passing moment, then it wasn't a funny one. If the guy was real then it opened up another can of worms.
I didn't really care if she was married. At least, I didn't think I did. It was too much to process right then. The information was too new. I couldn't think of the ramifications. Was I mad? Did it make me suspicious of her? Of the whole relationship? I didn't know what was true. This was a big thing to keep from me.
I was partly to blame. I spent too much effort trying to stay out of her past that we hadn't gotten too close about personal details. I mean, I knew her favorite foods, movies and music. All of those surface details. I picked up other details through osmosis conversation. She was from Texas, which was super obvious, but I never asked pointed questions. I didn't know her exact age, where she went to school, if she went to college. I knew nothing about her family.
I felt like a complete ass when I realized I didn't even know her last name.
Turned out I didn't even know her full first name. How had I let this happen? I guess since all we did was have sex, drink at bars and watch movies in between having sex I hadn't spent that much time getting to know her. It was a comfortable kind of relationship. Again, it was keeping it private. I wasn't exactly showing her off. I couldn't introduce her to my co-workers. They all suspected I'd met someone since I'd spent the last three months with a dopey grin on my face. My best friend Wade knew I was seeing someone even though I hadn't introduced them to each other. If she was coming over I kicked him out beforehand because I knew she was probably going to want to jump in bed immediately.
I didn't want to keep her waiting.
The phone rang once then was cut off by a harsh recorded message letting me know that the number I was trying to reach was no longer in service.
Damn! She had changed out cell phones again. I had to wait until she texted me to know her new number for the week. I ground my teeth and resisted throwing my phone at the wall. Instead I clutched it so hard I nearly cracked the screen. I took a few breaths to calm down.
I attempted to pee, but was too nervous. Nothing came out but a few meager drops. After I washed my hands I splashed some water on my face. In the mirror I attempted a few tough looks in preparation for my meeting with my girlfriend's husband. None of them were intimidating in the least.
I returned to my counter. The next fifteen minutes passed with excruciating slowness while I waited for my break. My hands were so clammy that my fingertips left little puddles on the surface.
Finally it was time to go. I told my co-workers that I'd be back in a half an hour. I hoped I wasn't lying to them.
As I walked across the street towards the diner I thought, perhaps, it wouldn't be such a terrible thing if a car ran me over right then. It would probably be less painful than whatever the cowboy had planned for me.
Inside the diner I waved hello to the cook and the waitress then walked to the back and slid into the booth across from the cowboy. The waitress came over and placed a menu in front of me. I ordered a water and handed the menu back. The cowboy drank from his coffee cup.
"Glad ta' see you got some spine in you," he said.
Anger pushed to get fear out of the way. The balls on this guy. At that moment I couldn't really understand why he had made me afraid. It was his confidence, his swagger. Ever since he said he was Beth's husband I'd been stumbling around. That threw me around, kept me off balance.
Sitting in the booth with him, the sun shining through the window, he didn't seem as threatening. Tall, maybe, but not as tall as Dana. He didn't appear to be armed. If he really wanted to hurt me he would've done it outside. He would've sneaked up on me when I left work and shot me. He wouldn't have called me out and demanded I meet him in a diner.
Once he was done sipping his coffee he set the mug back on the table. He rested his hands on either side of the cup, curled into light fists with his knuckles facing me. I took a sip of water and waited for him to speak. We sat there in silence. I think he was trying to intimidate me. That was fine by me. I could wait him out. I checked my watch.
"Got somewhere to be?" he asked.
"Yeah. Work. Just making sure I won't be late."
He flexed his hands. The knuckles popped. I took another sip of water.
"Listen, boy, don't start..."
"Don't call me boy," I said, "if anything, I think I'm older than you."
His face flushed with embarrassment. As he ground his teeth his jaw bulged.
"I want you ta' stay away from my wife," he said, finally.
"I don't even believe you two are really married."
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. From that he removed a picture and slapped it on the table. I reached over and picked it up.
It was him and Beth (Lizzie) kissing each other. He was dressed in a tuxedo with a cowboy hat tipped back on his head. She wore a white dress and bridal veil. It was the first time I'd ever seen her without cowboy gear that wasn't after we'd had sex. In the picture Beth had a sizeable ring on her finger. That was something I hadn't ever seen her wear in real life.
I put the photo back on the table and slid it back to the cowboy. He picked it up, gave it one last look, then put it back in his wallet.
"So, where do we go from here?" I asked.
"I'd like it if you stayed away from my wife."
"I don't think that's going to happen."
"You better find a way ta' make it happen"
"What if I don't?"
"Then I don't think you're gonna' like that choice," he moved his thumb again, making it pop.
"I've got to level with you: you don't scare me. You did at first and, yes, you could very well beat the piss out of me right now, but I've met people way worse than you."
"I figure you mean that little group a' criminals Lizzie's taking ta' calling friends. I know about her 'new life,' runnin' around, pretending ta' be a super villain. They are a scary bunch but they ain't here right now."
"They'll be around later. Do you want to take that chance? Beth seems awfully fond of me."
I had no clue if any of that was actually true. If the cowboy hurt or even killed me I wasn't sure that Blood Shadow or Dana would actually care. A crazy thought fluttered into my head: maybe Beth wouldn't care that much either.
She looked so happy in the photo. Almost as happy as I'd seen her around me. Now her ex-husband was sitting across from me, threatening me. If that love could sour then did whatever we had have a chance?
Worse thoughts crept in. What if this was some really fucked up mind game? Not a prank, but this was what they did. She went off and found some guy, get him to fall for her, then her husband shows up, beats the shit out of the smitten guy and that gets her off. Weirder things had happened.
I wished that train of thought hadn't rolled through my brain. I didn't want to imagine Beth having sex with the cowboy. It also robbed me of my anger. Doubt and uncertainty took the chance and crept back in.
"You bring your friends, I'll bring mine," he said with a tight grin.
"A bunch of Okie shit-kickers in a truck?"
That made him laugh. A loud guffaw. I didn't know if he really had to, but he made to wipe a tear from his eye.
"I guess Lizzie really didn't tell you about me. I'm gonna' let you in on a little secret," he leaned forward, motioning for me to do the same, "I'm a super hero. Biggest in Texas. You get your friends together and all you'll be doin' is rounding them up for us ta' take ta' jail."
"Not much of a crime fighter if your wife is robbing banks."
"How long do you think you'll have a job if I go tell your boss that you're fucking the woman who robbed the place? You'll be lucky if you don't get jail time for that."
"So that's how it is? You can't win her back so you're going to ruin my life."
"If I haveta'. I've done it before," he smirked.
"What do you mean?"
"C'mon, pal, you don't really think you're the first fella' I've had this conversation with, didja'?"
That was a gut punch. Nearly knocked the breath out of me. I wanted this conversation to end as soon as possible. Anyway it could. I struggled to maintain the appearance of strength. All in thirty minutes my life had been turned upside down.
"That must tear you up inside," I said. I know it was for me.
"What?"
"Having to talk to all your wife's boyfriends. Having to scare them off. Doesn't seem to be working. Here I am. I've been dating her for months and she's never mentioned you. Not once. That's got to sting. No matter how alone you try to make her she still doesn't come crawling back to you."
"You shut your mouth," he hissed, not wanting to draw any attention from the waitress.
"I'm not going anywhere."
He didn't reply. He just sat there staring into his cup of coffee. Finally, "She'll get tired a' you sooner or later."
We weren't going to fight. Not physically at least. Instead it appeared that we would just try and hurt each other as much as possible with words.
"But she won't be running into your arms afterwards."
We settled back into silence. I waited for whatever shitty thing he had chambered to say. I felt miserable. Confused, angry, scared, uneasy about my life. Such a turnaround from how happy I'd felt earlier.
"Get out," he whispered. His voice hitched as he said it. He looked up from his coffee cup, his clear blue eyes were warped with tears but were still backed with anger, "Just get the hell out before I do somethin' I'll regret."
I stood up. Walked out of the diner. Despite what an asshole the cowboy was I still felt bad. If you could call what I had a victory I wasn't sure it was one I could savor. I kicked a man when he was down. Used his love against him. It felt like kicking a puppy. The knot in my stomach almost forced me to turn back and apologize. I was certain if I did he’d probably kick my ass.
I didn't truly feel sorry. The apology would be empty. I'd only be saying it to make myself feel better. So I'd get an ass kicking for nothing and he'd probably still feel like shit. So would I.
I passed the rest of my day in a blur. I couldn't focus on my work. All I kept thinking about was Beth and the cowboy. What their life was like, why they married, for how long, why they split. He obviously still had feelings for her. Did she still hold a torch for him? In any capacity?
I mean, I never forgot my first girlfriend from high school. Karen. I still loved her a little. We started dating as sophomores and stayed together until the end. At the time I think we both harbored thoughts of marriage, but were both too smart and realized we were too young. So we waited. I went to state college while she went to Ivy League on the East Coast. In retrospect it was easy to see we were going to drift apart. And we did. Slowly. Season by season.
It was an amicable break-up during summer vacation. She found an internship in New York and wasn't coming back to California. I didn't want to move. There were tears. To be expected. But no recrimination. She told me that it was for the best. We only cried because it was always sad when something good ended.
In a way I was glad it ended that way. I couldn't imagine what it would have been like if we had drawn it out until the relationship was poison. Melancholy was what I felt now when I thought of her. We even drifted apart as friends. She met someone else who eventually became her husband and the father of her son. We talked occasionally, mostly just dropping notes on each other's birthdays or other holidays. We'd seen each other a handful of times when she came out to California to visit family.
After her I'd gone out with a number of girls. All short-term. They ended well. None of them went as deep as my high-school love. None of them had that spark.
Until Beth.
What started out as just sex had made a change along the way. Somehow she burrowed into my heart and made a little nest. I could only hope she reciprocated my feelings.
Still...
Married.
I wanted to be part of her life, yet still wanted to remain free of the moral complications of dating a criminal. Was something like that even possible? I wanted to think so, but couldn't convince myself. For someone I thought I had a lot of feelings for I really didn't know enough about her.
That cowboy really fucked up my day.
A lot of answers to questions I didn't ask.
Beth and I were going to have a talk.
