Rex Hall didn’t usually take the floor at the big round table unless he had something worth the price of admission. Most mornings, he preferred to sit there like a pharmacist ought to—measured, observant, letting other folks overprescribe their opinions while he kept the dosage low.
But this morning, he had that look.
The one that said whatever he was about to say had been aging in a dark bottle somewhere since Reagan’s first term.
Delgado set down a fresh round of coffee like a man fueling a controlled burn. Lucinda hovered just long enough to confirm this wasn’t going to turn into a shouting match. Rusty leaned back, chair creaking like it knew it might be in for a long haul.
Chad had his phone out already, which told you everything you needed to know about his priorities.
Hairless B29 tilted his head. Angus Hopper, who’d drifted in sometime before sunrise like a rumor, rested his boot heel on a rung and waited.
Rex cleared his throat.
“I ever tell y’all about my first professional conference?”
Rusty didn’t even look up. “If it involved a free pen and a stale danish, I’ve heard it.”
Rex shook his head. “No. This one involved… education.”
Chad smirked. “That’s already suspicious.”
Rex ignored him.
“1983. I’d just gotten licensed. Thought I was the smartest man between here and Odessa. Figured I needed to go see how the big boys did it, so I signed up for a conference in Las Vegas.”
Hairless nodded once. “Vegas has a way of humbling a man before breakfast.”
Rex pointed at him. “Exactly. But I didn’t fly. No sir. I’d just bought myself a brand-new car from Frontier Ford. Mustang GL. Desert Tan Glow. Had that little pinstripe running down the side like it was trying to behave.”
Rusty finally looked up. “Three-point-eight V6?”
Rex smiled. “You know it. Carbureted. Hundred and twelve horses doing their best. C5 automatic. Smooth as a sermon.”
Angus chimed in. “Whitewalls?”
“Firestone Steel-Belted Radial 721s,” Rex said proudly. “Still had the chalk marks when I left town.”
Delgado set a plate of huevos rancheros in front of Rex like a ceremonial offering.
“Car had sixty-six miles on it when I hit the road,” Rex went on. “Factory fresh. Walnut cloth interior. Air conditioning that actually worked, which felt like cheating.”
Chad said, “You name your car?”
Rex gave him a look. “Son, I respected it.”
That shut Chad up for about three seconds.
“So I drive out there,” Rex continued. “West Texas to Nevada. Long stretch of highway, radio fading in and out like it couldn’t decide if it believed in me. I get to Vegas, park that Mustang like it was a trophy, and walk into that hotel thinking I’m about to expand my mind.”
Rusty snorted. “Vegas will expand something, all right.”
Rex raised a finger. “Now this is where it gets… unusual.”
Lucinda paused mid-pour.
“That conference,” Rex said, “was full of people who took themselves very seriously. Specialists. Researchers. Folks who spoke in sentences that required diagrams.”
Hairless muttered, “Dangerous crowd.”
“I’m a young pharmacist,” Rex said. “Hungry. I go to every lecture I can. Morning, afternoon, evening. Didn’t matter. If it had a title longer than a Bible verse, I was in a seat.”
Angus leaned forward. “And then?”
Rex took a breath.
“There was this evening session. Title sounded harmless. Something about vascular therapy. Real dry. Kind of thing you attend so you can say you attended it.”
Rusty nodded. “We’ve all been to those. Weddings, mostly.”
“A little before it starts,” Rex said, “I get on the elevator. Door opens, and in walks this older fellow. Small. Glasses. Blue track suit. Carrying a little box.”
Chad perked up. “Track suit?”
Rex nodded. “That should’ve been my first clue something wasn’t lining up.”
Delgado topped off cups. No one thanked him. They were locked in.
“He’s nervous,” Rex said. “Fidgeting. Opens that box. Starts flipping through slides. I’m standing right there next to him. And I catch a glimpse.”
Rusty squinted. “Of what?”
Rex paused just long enough to let it breathe.
“Let’s just say,” he said, “the subject matter was… specific.”
Chad leaned forward. “Like medical specific or—”
“Chad,” Lucinda said without looking at him, “drink your coffee.”
Rex continued. “We get to the lecture hall. Not a huge crowd. Maybe eighty people. Folks dressed up like they’re headed to a reception afterward.”
Hairless smiled faintly. “Always a mistake.”
“The man from the elevator,” Rex said, “gets introduced. Some kind of expert. Brilliant mind, they say. Starts talking. Calm. Methodical. Explaining a theory about how certain medications might affect blood flow in ways folks hadn’t fully appreciated yet.”
Rusty nodded. “Sounds normal so far.”
Rex gave him a look that said buckle up.
“He’s got slides,” Rex said. “A lot of slides. And they’re all… demonstrations. Repeated demonstrations. You begin to understand that he didn’t just study this. He… tested it.”
Chad blinked. “On what?”
Rex took a sip of coffee.
“On himself.”
There was a brief silence at the table.
Then Rusty slapped the table once. “Well I’ll be damned.”
Hairless just nodded slowly. “Commitment to the craft.”
Rex said, “At first, it’s all academic. Data. Results. You’re thinking, okay, this is unusual, but we’re learning something.”
Angus said, “And then it stops being academic.”
Rex pointed at him. “Exactly.”
Lucinda crossed her arms now, listening.
Rex lowered his voice just a touch.
“He decides that the best way to prove his point… is a live demonstration.”
Chad’s phone lowered.
Rusty leaned forward.
Delgado stopped mid-step with a coffee pot.
Rex said, “Now I’m sitting there in the third row thinking, surely this man knows the difference between a lecture and… whatever he’s about to do.”
Hairless said, “He did not.”
“No,” Rex said. “He did not.”
Rex didn’t rush the next part. He didn’t need to.
“He steps away from the podium,” Rex said, “and makes it very clear that he came prepared.”
Rusty covered his mouth. “No.”
Rex nodded once.
“Room goes quiet,” Rex said. “Not the polite kind. The kind where every single person is reconsidering every decision that led them to that seat.”
Chad whispered, “No way.”
Rex said, “Way.”
Angus leaned back, staring at the ceiling like he was trying to see the past hovering up there.
“What happened next,” Rex said carefully, “was not in the program.”
Delgado muttered, “Lord have mercy,” and set the coffee pot down like it might explode.
Rex went on. “He attempts to further validate his findings. In person. With audience participation.”
Rusty’s chair legs hit the floor with a thud. “No sir.”
Hairless said, almost admiring, “That’s a bold play.”
Lucinda shook her head slowly. “That’s a man who’s never met a boundary he couldn’t ignore.”
Rex nodded. “You could feel the entire room trying to exit at once without moving.”
Chad said, “What did people do?”
Rex said, “Some froze. Some covered their eyes. Some made noises I haven’t heard before or since. “A few folks—particularly the ones who came with their wives—had a real rough evening ahead of them.”Rusty was laughing now, half in disbelief. “I bet they did.”
Rex leaned back.
“It didn’t last long,” he said. “Reality caught up. The situation… de-escalated. Lecture ended early. Crowd scattered like somebody had pulled a fire alarm.”
Hairless said, “And you?”
Rex smiled, just a little.
“I went back to my room,” he said. “Sat on the edge of that bed. Stared at the carpet. And tried to decide if I had just witnessed a breakthrough… or something that was going to get that entire conference shut down.”
Angus asked, “Which was it?”
Rex shrugged.
“Both, probably.”
Lucinda finally stepped in, voice calm as ever.
“Well,” she said, “you came back to Fort Stockton. So whatever you learned, it didn’t scare you off the profession.”
Rex looked at her. “It taught me something.”
Rusty said, “What’s that?”
Rex took his time.
“That knowledge matters,” he said. “But how you deliver it… matters just as much.”
Chad said, “That’s your takeaway?”
Rex nodded. “That and this: there’s a line. And once you cross it, you don’t get to decide how people remember you.”
Hairless smiled faintly. “They remember you, though.”
Rex met his gaze. “Oh, they remember.”
Rex took a breath, like he was deciding whether to reopen the door he’d just managed to shut.
“Man’s name was Brindley,” he said. “Professor Giles Brindley. British. Smart as they come.”
He paused, then added, “If you don’t believe a word I just told you… you can look it up.”
Hairless shook his head and then nodded. Chad immediately pulled out his phone and started googling, his eyes getting bigger the longer he scrolled.
Delgado slid another plate down the table like punctuation.
“Man drove all the way to Vegas in a brand-new Mustang,” Delgado said, “and came back with that story.”
Rusty pointed at Rex. “Best mileage that car ever got.”
Chad leaned back, shaking his head. “I’m never going to a conference.”
Lucinda smirked. “You wouldn’t make it past registration.”
The table laughed, tension breaking like a storm rolling off the desert.
Outside, Fort Stockton went about its business. Dust drifted. A pickup rattled by. Somewhere, a radio played something just a little too old to argue with.
Rex lifted his cup.
“Car drove perfect the whole way home,” he said. “Not a single issue.”
Rusty grinned. “After that, I bet nothing could shake it.”
Rex smiled into his coffee.
“Nothing at all.”
2 responses to “A HARD STORY TO TELL”
I leaned on the nerdy side back in high school, and I’m still kinda naive, so I’m just sorta holding on to see what develops here.
Has Lucinda and Delgado ever been co-stars in a story yet?
Well I never….
Cap you won the trivia game at the American legions club this AM
Honest to pete(pun inteneded)
You are a straight shooter pun intended, story was a little stiff (sorry) but historically it was not inflated (jeez)
Ya have to much time in your hands
Ok I’m done
side note the dude dr Giles turned hundred last month
No further thoughts