Two Sides of the Same Coin Read Online Free PDF Page B

new things such as plays, which I did enjoy. But to do stuff together other than a night out or a weekend trip, was not something we did. More probably we’d had nothing in common from the beginning, but had let physical attraction run wild. Opposites attract and we were totally opposite.
    Did I really want to go back to San Francisco? I didn’t have any friends there. It was a beautiful city, but you couldn’t see the stars due to all the lights. I hated waiting tables. Frankly, I could sell my bronze sculptures here in the artists’ co-op in Winslett and probably make more money than I did in San Francisco. Being here made me realize how much I missed the change of seasons, cowboying, my friends here, and the ranch.
    I did enjoy it when Robert and I would head off to Tahoe, or Calistoga, or the North Coast. When we went though, I wanted to camp, and he wanted to stay in five-star or boutique hotels. We had seen staying in bed and breakfast hotels as a compromise, but I was beginning to wonder just what I was getting in return. At first he was fascinated with everything about cowboys. Now he seemed to hate everything about them, the stuff that made me, me.
    As I pulled into the drive in front of the ranch house, there sat Robert on one of the chairs on the front deck. The ranch house was really a log home. Dad had always wanted one and had it built several years ago. It was really beautiful; a deck ran around it, and there were balconies from the bedrooms upstairs. Robert was kind of slouched in the chair and covered with mud. His new hat was beside him crushed, his kerchief was askew, and his shirt was pretty badly ripped. His Levis were a mess, and his new alligator boots were covered in mud and horse shit. He saw me and moaned while holding his ribs.
    I looked at him and finally said, “It looks like you were practicing bronc bustin’ for the next rodeo.”
    “Ha ha ha. Very funny. Those assholes gave me some devil wild horse, and just as I got on they slapped it.”
    “Well, you told ’em you could ride. Not that that justifies what they did.”
    “I ache all over.”
    I went over to him and began feeling his arms, legs, and ribs. “I don’t think you broke anything. Nothing wrong with you some aspirin, food, a bath, and some whiskey won’t cure.”
    “Look at my new clothes! They’re ruined. I can’t believe they did this to me.”
    “How about you kick off your boots, and take off all the muddy clothes, and go upstairs and take a nice hot bath. There’s a big Jacuzzi tub in my bathroom. I’ll bring you some water, aspirin, and if you want a shot or two.”
    “You expect me to strip down in this cold and parade around in my underwear in front of those troglodytes?” I could hear muffled laughter coming from the direction of the bunkhouse.
    “Well, you’re not tracking mud and horse shit all through the house. They’re men Robert. You don’t have nothing they haven’t seen. Let’s get ya inside and take care of ya. They were just funnin’ with ya. Like I said, it don’t justify anythin’, but cowboys love to joke around. The new guy is usually the butt of the joke. It’s happened to me many a time. Just grin and go with it and they move on to the next guy.”
    He began to undress, moving slowly and moaning and whining constantly. He was covered with bruises, including one on his thigh that looked like a hoof print.
    “You get kicked?”
    “Yeah,” he moaned. When he finally hobbled into the house, I went and took the boxes of groceries into the pantry just outside the kitchen. Josh came over from the bunkhouse to help.
    “You never told us your friend knew how to fly, Jeff.”
    “I guess I was waiting to let you in on that secret when he learns how to land.”
    Josh laughed. He was about five-eight and built like a fire plug. He had a full head of sandy hair and a little moustache.
    “He was getting pretty hard to take, ordering us around like we was servants and telling us we don’t