This is the fourth chapter of a seven part story that will run all this week.

“It’s time to get the Cougar ready,” Mason told Whiskey.

There was no immediate response. Even Sutton looked over at Whiskey to see if he’d heard the comment. Whiskey was pondering a response, measuring out his words to be sure they were the best ones he could choose. Finally, he said, “You sure you want to do that?”

At Jim Bowie High School, nearly fifty years earlier, the yellow Cougar was a fixture in the student parking lot every day of class as well as most every sporting event that took place the entire time Mason McCulloch was in school. If there was anyone in the passenger seat, and there usually was, it was either Whisky or Kristen Nolan. Usually it was Kristen Nolan.

The two had dated since their sophomore year. They met through Kristen’s brother, Kyle. Mason and Kyle were teammates on the Fightin’ Knives’ football team and hung out frequently, despite there being a year difference in age. Mason and Kristen soon started seeing each other and never seriously dated anyone else. A lot of kids who date in high school, especially in rural Texas high schools, think they’ll graduate and get married, raise a family and continue the evolutionary cycle that God intended. Not that many actually do. Things like finances, reality, maturity, parents, and other things usually keep that from happening. Mason and Kristen were determined that it would happen in their case.

It became a little tricky since Kristin’s father was a teacher at Jim Bowie High School, particularly Mason’s junior year when Mr. Nolan was actually one of his teachers. But it was more awkward for Kristen than it was for him, in the long run, and by Thanksgiving break nobody thought that much of it.

For her part, Kristen did all she could to walk the straight and narrow.  Part of that was due to her father’s teaching position at Jim Bowie High.  Part of it was because she had been raised well.  The biggest reason was because she and Mason had a plan and she was going to do everything in her power to stick with it and make it work.  That’s one of the things Mason loved about her.

Despite their best intentions to do the right thing and stay away from temptations that could derail their plans, Kristen and Mason were seventeen years old with hormones that were raging like a herd of wild mustangs across the llano estacado. As their relationship neared the end of its second year, the ability to keep those longings at bay decreased at the same time the opportunities to be alone and act on them increased. They had done everything they could to fulfill their desires without finally stepping over that final line into sinful immorality. Such was the state of affairs as Christmas approached.

“My family is going to Michigan for Christmas,” she shared with him as she put her bra back on in the back seat of the Cougar.  The way she could hook it in the front, spin it around so the hooks were in the back and then put her arm through each strap all in a twelve second timeframe always amazed Mason.

“What do you mean?  Ya’ll never go anywhere for Christmas!”  Mason was caught off guard by the announcement.  

Kristen was glad she’d waited to break it to him.  “We’re leaving as soon as finals are over.  Looks like we’ll be gone most of the two weeks we’re off school.”

“That’s a load of crap.  What am I supposed to do the whole time you’re gone?”

“You’ll manage.  And you’ll miss me.  Something you’ve never had to do before,” she told him.

“Ask your dad if I can come along.  I’ve never been to Michigan,” Mason pleaded.

“Are you kidding?  My granny’s got a tiny house.  There’s already going to be a ton of people there.  There’s no way I’m going to talk him into bringing one more,” Kristen explained.  “Besides, there’s only one bathroom that we all have to share.  One more person needing to use it would probably push my mother over the edge.”

Mason began unbuckling his pants.  “If you’re going to be gone for two weeks, we better take advantage of every opportunity we have between now and the time you leave.”

“You need to get me home, Cowboy.  If my dad suspects what we’ve been doing already, he’ll string you up with a set of Christmas lights and let you dangle in the wind.”

Back in the front seat, Mason started the car and headed back to the general direction of town, disappointed that Round Two had been put off, and fully contemplating the side effects of the announcement.  “What about the Winter Carnival Dance?  You won’t be here for it.”

“You can go with your buddies.  Or stay home and trim the tree.  Either way, you’ll live.”  Kristen reached over and squeezed his thigh to punctuate the end of her reply.

Three weeks later Kristen was taking her next to last final in English and thinking about how much she really regretted not being in Fort Stockton for Christmas. Somewhere in-between thinking about exactly how to describe the difference between connotation and detonation in an essay question and thinking about how much she was going to miss Mason, Shannon Hudspeth kicked the back of Kristen’s chair. Kristen turned around as subtly as she could and quickly understood that Shannon wanted to see her Answer Sheet for the final so she could copy the answers.

Shannon Hudspeth had never been the sharpest tool in the shed.  Nor was she above cheating to pass, spreading rumors when it benefitted her, nor a number of other indiscretions including but not limited to enabling the fantasies to come true of several members of the football and basketball teams.  Always varsity, never JV; Shannon had standards.

Kristen’s refusal to play along with the requested academic dishonesty resulted in a subtle flipping of the bird in response and a not-so-subtle shove once they exited the classroom at the conclusion of the exam.  Seeing Mason in the hall took her mind off of it.  They walked out to his Cougar in the parking lot, went over to the Dairy Twin for a shake before Mason took her home so she could pack for the departure the next morning.  He’d hoped for a quick detour out to Lake Leon to exchange best holiday wishes, but time was short.  “Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” she told him.

“It’s not the heart I’m worried about,” Mason said.  He was able to get in a passionate kiss before walking her to the front door.  “Love you.”

The next day, the Nolan family left for Michigan and Mason wondered what the next two weeks would look like. The holidays were not meant to be a time for being despondent, but that’s what they were looking like. Mason’s parents, generally not prone to giving much sympathy, felt bad for the boy and attempted to cheer him up with odd jobs, a shopping trip or two, and other distractions. Their boy was forlorn, and no parent likes to see their child unhappy.

When some buddies called and asked Mason to come to the Winter Carnival with them, his initial response was to say no and stay at home and simmer in his own juices of despair.  But at their insistence and his mother’s urging, Mason got in the Cougar and headed to the gym at Bowie High for the dance.

It was hard to get into the spirit of the season, or the appreciation for winter when the temperatures outside allowed for the top to be put down on the Cougar.  But such were the challenges of living so close to the Mexican border.  The dance was entertaining enough, though nothing like it would have been had Kristen been there with him.  A handful of guys from the football team, also without dates but for different reasons, included Mason in their group.  That included partaking in the flasks that were passed around when administration and faculty weren’t paying attention, which was most of the time.

By the time Dutch Tannen revealed that he had a copy of the key to get in the press box overlooking the football field and that they should take the party out there, the common sense any of the others may have had earlier had been pickled in the stupidity of cheap bourbon.  The four of them headed off in the direction of the field house, followed closely behind by Shannon Hudspeth and her close friend, Grace Moody.  Those who knew her well used to joke that she had little Grace, but made up for it by being extremely Moody.  A couple lesser known conspirators made their way to the press box party shortly thereafter.  It’s hard to conceal the potential for a good time when those involved have not yet matriculated high school.

What followed has as many different interpretations as Revelation in the New Testament, many of them just as mysterious.  What was never disputed was that by the end of the party, the only two left in the press box were Shannon Hudspeth and Mason McCulloch.  Seizing the opportunity to get even with Kristen for not helping her pass the English exam, as well as put another notch in her belt of accomplishments, Shannon proved to be too much of a temptation for Mason.  In his state of loneliness and inebriation, he succumbed to her suggestion that the holidays were meant to be celebrated.  The celebration that followed was not one ever presented in the four gospels, but had been outlined, in loose terms, in the Song of Solomon.

During the ride home afterwards, Mason was initially focused on keeping the Cougar between the lines on the road in front of him.  It wasn’t until he’d dropped off Shannon at her house that he could focus on the depth and breadth of the mistake he’d made.  His stomach hurt.  Pulling the convertible over to throw up on the side of the road did not alleviate the pain.

After they returned from Michigan, Kristen sensed immediately that something was wrong, but could not figure out what it was. When she suggested they take a drive out to Lake Leon to watch the submarine races, her offer was declined, just confirming that there was trouble in paradise. The mystery continued right up until the time that Shannon Hudspeth cornered her in the girls locker room shortly after cheerleading practice two weeks later.

“I’m pregnant,” Shannon said.  What struck Kristen most was the lack of emotion in the announcement.  “And your boyfriend is the father.”

What followed were weeks of drama, investigation, pain, confession, and consequences that were clearly never considered ahead of time.  Because of the rules society lived by at the time, only Shannon was forced to leave Jim Bowie High.  Kristen and Mason saw their relationship die a slow, painful death that neither fully ever understood, but both would regret the rest of their lives.  

Within two months, Shannon’s pregnancy was in the rearview mirror, though she wasn’t allowed to return to school.  No one ever knew if she had miscarried, dealt with it in some other way, or was actually never even pregnant to begin with.  If she had truly been with child, Mason had no idea if he had actually been the father.  But the fact that he could have been, shattered lives in ways that could never be put back together.

Kristen didn’t stop loving Mason, but she could never forgive him, nor even look him in the eye. Seeking to fill the void that he had created, she married less than a year later. Wyatt Daily was his name. He’d only moved to Fort Stockton the summer before his senior year. Nobody knew much about him. A good enough looking guy, he never said a whole lot. Folks just didn’t know much about him. He took an interest in Kristen when she needed someone to.

The wedding was rushed, more to get it over with and make sure she couldn’t back out, than anything else.  The weekend the wedding took place, Mason loaded a cooler with four cases of beer into the trunk of the Cougar, threw a sleeping bag on top, and drove out to Lake Leon and stayed drunk for two days.  Whiskey went out and found him on the third day and got him cleaned up enough to get him home.

Kristen’s marriage to Wyatt started off strained and didn’t get better with time.  It became obvious to Wyatt very soon that he was serving as a substitute rather than a husband.  At first, it made him work harder to earn Kristen’s love.  She found those efforts to be irritating, more than anything else.  They each thought that kids would draw them closer together, though they never discussed it with one another.  Two offspring, born less than two years apart, had the opposite effect.  

It was probably in the fourth year of their marriage that the abuse began.  Two years after that the police were called to the home of Kristen and Wyatt Daily.  It wouldn’t be the last time.  By the time the two boys were in middle school, their father’s addictions had taken over and her family convinced Kristen that she would be better off being a safe single mother of two than someone afraid to be in her own home.  It took a restraining order and several court appearances to convince Wyatt.

Through the whole ordeal, Mason kept up with the details through brief conversations with Kristen’s brother Kyle, and a handful of others.  Fort Stockton is a small town.  With each twist and wrinkle, he thought about finding Kristen and attempting to help.  He still considered it his own fault that she had fallen into such circumstances.  He ran into Shannon Hudspeth at the Lucky Lady Lounge one night, although her last name had gone through several different changes since the time they were in high school.

“I hear your old flame isn’t faring all that well,” she slurred.  Mason ignored the comment.  “You ever stop and think where you’d be if you hadn’t dipped the wick in the press box that night?  Would have been easier on all of us if she’d just given me the answers to the English test.”

Whiskey could see Mason start to ball his hand into a fist and stepped in before Shannon could cause him to do irreversible damage to his life for the second time.  “Probably time you get back on your broom, or call a cab,” he said as he escorted her away from the bar and further away from one more bad decision.

“It’s funny,” Mason said as he sat on the worn leather couch in front of the fire out in the barn.  “Something that happened fifty years ago can be so clear in your mind.  Something that happened a week ago is a forgotten memory.  Wish it was the other way around.”

Whiskey just nodded. Sutton looked up from the floor, having not heard a voice for a considerable amount of time. Mason reached down and scratched the top of his head until he laid back down on the floor again.

Two days later the Cougar looked as good as it ever had.   After putting the top down, Mason opened the passenger door so Sutton could jump in.  They drove down the driveway slowly.

Pulling up in front of the small old rent house, Mason considered one last time whether or not he should just start the Cougar back up and keep driving.  It was while calculating that decision that the front door opened and Kristen just stood in the doorway.  Sutton and Mason both looked at her.  She slung a dish towel over one shoulder and put both hands on her hips.  “Well, I’ll be damned.”

The moment that followed seemed as long as it was uncomfortable.

“I suppose I always knew you’d pull up someday.  Come on in,” Kristen said.  “Don’t leave that dog in the car.”

To Mason’s eye, Kristen hadn’t aged much at all.  All the things that had made her attractive a half a century earlier still did, but with more character.  For Kristen’s part, she could tell immediately Mason wasn’t well.  She’d heard rumors, but they all lacked detail.  He was thin.  His eyes lacked any of the sparkle they’d had years earlier.

Mason followed her into the small kitchen.  She put on a pot of coffee and motioned him to sit down at the little table.

“Did you recognize the Cougar when I pulled up?” he asked.

“To be fair, that wasn’t the first thing that came to mind. But now that you mention it, I do remember that being the car we dated in,” she said. Mason couldn’t tell if the look on her face was a smile or a frown. Sutton curled up on a rug next to the table.

The conversation was strained, the words sparse at first.  Kristen didn’t really know why he’d shown up after so long; Mason didn’t know where to begin.  He asked her about her children, and that seemed to make her smile.

“They’re good boys. A miracle based on what their father was. Both turned out well. Corby is still here in Fort Stockton. Married. Three kids, two girls and a boy. Coleman is in San Antonio. Two kids, one on the way.” She didn’t ask Mason about family, figuring if he wanted to share he would.

Pouring the fresh coffee, talk turned to people they went to high school with and what had become of them.  The mood lightened.  Eventually the conversation made its way to the only thing that really mattered.  The thing that Mason had come to say.

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I was all those years ago. I have been ever since,” he said.

“For years, I was angry at you,” Kristen said. “Hurt. Angry. Sad. All the things. I blamed you for everything.” Mason looked down at his coffee. He let her talk, but couldn’t bear to look at her while she did.

“Then I shifted all those feelings to Shannon Hudspeth. Blamed her for what my life had become. Blamed her for what she’d done to our relationship. For a while I even was mad at Whiskey. Felt like he should have kept an eye on you while I was gone. Kept you from making a mistake of such monumental proportions. In the end, I was just mad at myself. Mad that I let ten minutes of your stupidity ruin decades of my life. That was way too much power to give anyone, and I could have stopped it, but I didn’t. I quit being mad, finally, and counted my blessings. My boys. My grandkids. My health.”

When she said ‘my health’, she looked at Mason.

“I’m going away soon.  Leaving Fort Stockton.”  Mason looked at Kristen, knowing he could never explain all there was to tell her.   He just had to cut to the chase.  “I’ve taken some steps you need to be aware of.”

She wasn’t sure just what to expect next.  Mason reached into the pocket inside his jacket and pulled out a thick envelope.  He slid it across the table.

“You can read over the details later. The bottom line is this: I’ve signed over the ranch to you. It’s yours to do with whatever you want after I leave. There is a trust fund at Prairie View State Bank set up to cover all the expenses to go along with it. Cover the taxes, the upkeep, anything that comes up.”

Kristen looked across the table, not sure what to say.

“My preference is that you keep it and enjoy it. Have your family out as often as you can and use it to make as many memories as possible. If that isn’t what you want, then you can sell it. Do whatever you want. The only stipulation is that Whiskey will be able to live out his days in the barn. If you keep it, he’ll be a help in taking care of things. If you sell it, he’ll still get to stay in the barn. I call it a barn, it’s really a man cave. I built it to house the collection of cars I put together, but the living quarters are pretty comfortable.”

Neither of them said anything for a while.

“Can’t go back in time.  Wish I could.  But it’s not too late to do what I can.”  With that Mason got up, followed by Sutton.  He bent down and kissed Kristen on the top of the head.  Tears were streaming down her cheeks as he made his way to the front door.  She remained at the kitchen table.

Outside, Mason walked down the steps of the front porch, continued to the sidewalk, and kept walking past the Cougar and down the street, Sutton at his side.  Eventually Kristen got up from the kitchen table and went to the screen door and saw the Cougar still parked out front.  Inside the glove box she found the title, registered in her name.  There were two sets of keys.  And a copy of The Thorn Birds.  The novel, written about a tragic love story, takes its name from a mythical bird that searches its entire life for just the right thorn tree.  Once it finds what it considers to be the perfect tree, it purposely impales itself on the sharpest thorn.  As it dies, it sings the most beautiful song it is able to produce.

If you’re enjoying this series, consider buying the Captain a cuppa Folgers at the Grounds for Divorce to help offset the cost of maintaining the blog. He’d be grateful, and promises to leave a big tip for Lucinda.