healed. He was capable of dressing alone and of walking by himself. The selected cane was all drama. Ignore it.
The staff was told that Andrew could share his time with other people. He was not to be pampered. That was underlined. At the hospital, the nurses were so kind they had just about ruined him. At the Keepers’ place, he was to take care of himself with minimal attention or assistance.
The crew could assist him only if he fell and could not manage to get up by himself—they paused and then aided him—only after he’d tried three times.
Andrew was not ignored. Everyone talked to him. But no one...helped him. No one arranged his plate or cut his meat or...fetched things for him.
With such obvious lack of attention, Andrew was as sulky as a spoiled child.
Of course, when any of the crew went from the Keeper Place into town, they did manage to report progress to the hospital crews. And at first, they chided the people at the hospital for corrupting Andrew Parsons so carelessly.
But those at the hospital retorted, “He was that way when we got him!”
The Keeper crew chided, “He is rock-bottom spoiled.”
The hospital staff admitted, “Well, we did let him sleep when he wanted, and he just got his days and nights mixed up a little.” They figured that admission would be enough.
The Keeper bunch said, “We’d never in the world allow something that dumb out there at our place.”
Since that hospital was where any harmed person was taken, the medical crew then said, “He was spoiled before you all ever got ahold of him. His parents didn’t even come to see him. We figured they’d abandoned him, he was so difficult. Then we found out the grandparents had been in a terrible wreck and lingered for a long old time. His daddy is now weird about hospitals.”
One of the ranch crew said softly, “Ahhhh. I don’t think I knew that. Parsons wasn’t that harmed.”
Thoughtfully the ranch crew shifted as they looked at the vast space around as if to be sure that it was still there. Then they mentioned, “He is strange. Most outdoor people really hate being trapped inside.”
So the hospital crew shared, “Readjusting him will be a challenge to you all. Good luck.” They were leaving the crew, but they all hesitated and one cautioned earnestly, “Don’t send him back to us.”
“You gotta know how much the Keepers’ve put into that pile of bricks you all call a ‘hospital’?”
“Careful. You might need us. We can attach legs backwards.”
“Uh-oh. Uhhhhh... We was just warning you all about that strange Parsons person. You could get him back without wanting him again.”
And the intern shook his head. “Don’t fret about us. Our Admittance Office is cold and sly. We only get people who actually need us. We wouldn’t have taken him, but he had a bad leg. That got him inside. Then the nurses didn’t care which shift got him. It don’t make no nevermind to them.”
One of the ranch crew asked, “Where you from again?”
The intern started out: “Uhhhh. How come you want to know?”
“You’re getting the swing of talking TEXAN pretty good now.”
And another of the hospital crew mentioned, “It’s the sunshine and the food. Any man and most women are susceptible to being TEXAN. It’s in the climate. And other people around and about talk thataway. It’s catching...like a cold.”
One of the ranch crew was fascinated. “I hadn’t ever been told that. Do you suppose it’s the climate that makes us thisaway?”
“Wouldn’t be a-tall surprised.”
So being gossi—communicators, the critical words about Andrew Parsons’s conduct did slide along all around the area. It was just a surprise that it didn’t go on to other states and foreign countries.
They finally figured the reason the word hadn’t spread on beyond was because the TEXANS are not gossips and only mention odd conduct to good, closed-mouthed friends. They smiled at one another. It was good to be able to trust other people. They were all TEXAN, born and bred.
So Andrew Parsons had been discarded and ignored. At the Keeper Place, he was where he could recover. He had a room. His sister, Lu, visited him. He assumed she was still at the hospice, in town, near the hospital. He hadn’t been interested enough in her to find out what she was now doing, or why she hadn’t gone on back to Houston?
And the thought came to Andrew that she was still around! He was out of hospital. There was no need for her to be there! Why was she still hanging around? Hmmmm.
But when he went to the dining area, he didn’t see his sister anywhere. Had she left? How strange. No farewell? Well, it didn’t bother him at all. She was useless anyway. She’d insisted the family pay his hospital bills.
The Parsons had done that. It was only right that they did. It had been their son and his horse that had been shot. No one had mentioned replacing his horse. That would come...the time when he could mention his dead horse.
What had become of his faithful dog?
Using the cane, Andrew ventured carefully onto the porch and whistled the call for the dog. It did not appear. Where was he? Not that Andrew cared much one way or the other. To whistle for the dog was an excuse to get out on the terrace. He didn’t want to appear physically ready for prodding around the area.
After his horse had been shot, Andrew hadn’t felt any urge to again go out onto the land...at all. So it was no surprise that right away he went back inside the Keepers’ house. No one was anywhere around. There was no one to entertain him.
That didn’t mean someone for him to watch. It meant someone who would ask him questions and then listen to what he had to say.
Of course.
All of the world was anxious to know what reply Andrew Parsons would give. He’d wondered why he hadn’t been asked back to the Oklahoma town’s television station. He asked. They said there had been no response...at all.
When Andrew demurred, they searched for and found and gave him one postcard that had said, “Good gravy, man, can’t you find anything else for us bed-bound guys?”
Andrew had said the obvious: That was only one person’s opinion. But he hadn’t gotten through to even one of the blank heads confronting him.
One had said, “Do you know how many people have been on the places where you’ve ridden?”
Andrew had replied, “Think of the people who have walked in the path of others?”
“Most of those paths have been made by celebrated, intelligent travelers. Most of that time is past. There is nothing in your presentation that is either new or different.”
“Then...why did you accept my interview?”
“Desperation. We are cured of it. We are changing the concept.”
“How
