‘Not Marriage Material’ – Submission 8: ‘Midnight in Cowboy Boots’ By Elora Canne

Not Marriage Material is an upcoming anthology of non fiction and poetry – submissions are currently open. More information can be found here.

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Midnight in Cowboy Boots by Elora Canne

I waved a cheery good-bye to my mom as I hid my well-kept secret. My broad grin disguising my fear. My best friend, also the wise old age of 16 years, greeted me from inside her front door.

Sally and I were dating twin brothers. Identical twins, Alex and Jonah, who lived an hour outside our hometown. Sally’s mom was in on our secret, sort of, and promised to play along.

Our plan was to stay over at our boyfriends’ parents’ home, which just happened to be a small family-run hotel on the outskirts of town. It had a regional train line running through it for anyone wanting to explore rural life. The part that Sally’s mom didn’t know about, was that Alex and Jonah’s parents weren’t going to be home and the boys were holding a bonafide ‘barn dance.’ 

We showered and washed our hair, getting ready for an outrageous evening out. As Sally blow dried her light brown curls, I pulled on my jeans and buttoned up my frilly white blouse. Decked in brown leather cowboy boots we waited impatiently for our ride.

While we waited, we discussed the arrangements to come home early in the morning straight after breakfast, with Elise, Sally’s mom. She reminded us of the importance of being careful and not making any rash decisions. Such was the extent of ‘the talk’ in those days.

Finally, our lift arrived in the form of an old beat-up Ford Cortina. Barely held together by its back bumper, the silver paint had long-lost its lustre. But we were not deterred as our excitement carried us forwards. We threw our overnight bags into the boot of the car, slammed it shut, and clambered in. Not needing to buckle up in those days, four of us squished in across the back seat, including two friends we’d met previously, with the twins in the front.

Sunset created the perfect backdrop for a night on the town, slowly fading into darkness as we left the city lights behind us. The gravel road added a deep rumbling to the buzz of chatter in the car, aided of course, by a communal mix of vodka and Coca-Cola.

About ten minutes from our destination, all noise subsided. No animated chatter could be heard, nor the rumbling of road or engine. Deathly silence in the darkness of night.

We all stared wide-eyed at each other, unsure of what to do next. We scrambled out to assess the situation. Engine trouble was the verdict.

The boys thought they should try and push-start the car. One hopped into the driver’s seat – it was tricky to see which one in the fading light, such were the twins’ identical looks (and the result of a couple of awkward moments between the four of us), the rest of us jostled for space at the back of the car to give it a push. Except for me. When I ambled up the side of the car to place my hands on the boot, there wasn’t enough space. So, I stood up and watched as everyone heaved the car forwards. I thought nothing of it at the time. There was no space, so I got out of the way. Practical, right?

This was my downfall. Or my saving grace, depending on which way you look at it.

Our car didn’t start up, and as we were within walking distance, walk we did. Only, my boyfriend, Jonah made it his mission to steer clear of me. He kept his distance as far from me as possible, leading the group with the crunch of his boots marching off on the gravel road.

In the typical way of youthful naivety, I still did not think much of the situation. I continued on, blithely. Chatting to this one and that about the imminent country dance we were all about to enjoy in the barn at Amabele. I paid no attention to the black cloud hanging over Jonah’s head. In my mind, he was ironically the hero leading us home.

The hip look of the ’80s showed in his ‘mullet’ hairstyle. His lanky brown locks swayed with every crunch of his black biker boots. Biceps bulging with clenched fists, I was quietly proud of Jonah’s resolve to take charge. Protect us. Find our way in the dark. If I could have seen the scowl on his face, I might’ve had an inkling as to what he was feeling. His unchecked anger. But as it was, I could only see the set of his broad shoulders, the curve of his world-weary back. He was a man of few words – is there any other kind? – so when we followed the curve of the road along the railway tracks, he grunted instructions to wait where we were while he went to the signal box to find out if it was safe to cross over. My man. Pride glowed in my chest, though he had still made no eye contact with me since the car incident, nor made any effort to hold my hand. Still, I was glowing with pride.

In return, his chocolate button eyes glowered at me when he came back to share his findings with us. At last, eye contact! I wavered a smile in his direction. “The next train is in half an hour, so let’s cross the lines all together right now.” Crunch crunch crunch down the track he went. No attempt to help me down from the platform. 

The first crinkle of alarm frissoned down my spine. Chivalry? What happened to the hero I witnessed just a short while ago?

I scrambled down the metal ladder as ladylike as I could. The toes of my brown pointed boots scraped the rough wall down the side of the platform. I frowned at the damage. A small grey cloud formed above my head.

Quickly I caught up with Jonah trying to slide my hand into his. He shoved his hand into his jeans pocket, hunched forwards and walked faster. “Wait,” I called, “what’s the matter?” Since we were alone at the front of our group, I thought he might talk to me.

“Nothing.”

Crunch crunch crunch.

The scuffed toes of my boots glared up at me. I glared back.

By now the softly falling curls I had so painstakingly forced my hair into, were tumbling down in waves of belligerence. With every flounce of those damned brown boots, my hair flopped down more and more.

My friend, Sally, caught up with me. “What’s going on?” she wanted to know. 

“I wish I knew,” I sighed in response. “Jonah is annoyed about something but won’t talk to me about it, so I’ve got no idea what’s going on.”

“Okay, I’ll ask Alex to talk to him and see what we can find out.”

We hugged in typical schoolgirl fashion and parted ways for the majority of the evening.

Photo by Kelly Carson on Pexels.com

The barn hall was set out in true country style décor. Bales of hay dotted the wooden flooring where we could perch between dances. The loose stalks of hay created the effect of stables for horses. This was not an ideal scenario for drunken youths dancing the night away. Loose hay can be quite hazardous to the hard heels of cowboy boots, sending unsuspecting dancers skidding to their knees. 

I may, or may not, know this from experience.

Yet the more everyone sat on those bales of hay, the more stalks fell to the floor, the more calamity ensued.

Since the age of ten years, I’ve been a dancer; ballet, modern, jazz and tap, so dancing by myself was never a problem for me. Not that I was extrovertly confident, just that I really didn’t mind the experience. In fact, I enjoyed it thoroughly. Sure, I had the occasional dance with friends, both male and female, but nought with the only friend who truly counted, Jonah. I hadn’t seen him the whole night once we got back from our trek through the wilderness.

I did manage to have a brief chat with his younger brother Sean, who was also looking for him. Sean thought he’d seen Jonah over at the BBQ stand so we went over together to look for him there. No sign. A quick grab of Sally’s arm in passing informed us that Jonah may have gone back for the car with a mechanic friend. By now things were starting to get hazy around the edges so I can neither confirm nor decline whether this was in fact true.

I was so enamoured with my boyfriend that I had previously used the pointed end of my geometry compass to scrape his initials into the skin of my left hand. (The scars are still there today).

Nothing would deter me from making things right with this man.

As the disco lights faded and the last song crooned into the shadows, our group of five (minus the elusive Jonah), made our way to his parents’ hotel. 

This is where things get tricky.

The big secret was that Jonah and I were supposed to ‘share a room.’

Sally and Alex were sharing a room while Sean and I were sitting on the puffed-up cushions of the settee in the guest lounge room. In the doorway, Jonah appeared! I made to get up when his words stopped me mid-air, “Sean, come.” He gestured with his hand and locked his vision on his younger brother.

“Night,” mumbled Sean, glancing furtively in my direction. Clearly, they were sharing a twin-bed room, so what was left for me to do? Sleep on the settee, of course. Just as I was dozing off and wondering what exactly had transpired, Sean gently shook my shoulder. “You can’t sleep here,” he whispered, “the guests will see you. Follow me.”

He looked over his shoulder to make sure I was following. Finger to lips indicated the need to keep quiet. “He’s cross with you because you didn’t help push the car.” Hushed into the corners of the hallway, I wasn’t sure I’d heard right. “The car?” I repeatedly stupidly. 

Finger to lips.

We tiptoed down the length of the guest room hallway past heavily bevelled doors shutting us out. Until Sean came to one left slightly ajar. Finger to lips, he gestured for me to enter this mysterious doorway. Was I going to join Jonah? My heart pounded, the sound reverberating in my ears. It was so loud that I couldn’t make out what Sean said next, but to my relief, he pointed to an empty bed on the right-hand side of the room. There was someone else in the bed on the left-hand side. Jonah? Progress at least I thought. 

With our overnight bags potentially still locked in the boot of our broken-down car abandoned, I crept into bed unashamedly in my underwear. To my horror, Sean was, not only still in the room with me, us, but crept into the bed next to me. My heartbeat was now off the charts. “You can’t sleep here,” came the gruff, unmistakable rumble of Jonah. Sean was yanked out of the bed and sent on his way. For a millisecond of hope, I wondered if Jonah would clamber in next to me, but he disappeared from sight. Out of the door, into the shadows.

“Who’s there?” Came a strangled whisper in the corner of the room. I lifted my head to try and peer into the darkness. From the bed across the room, I could see someone else peering at me. “Ellie? Is that you?”

“Sally?”

“What’s going on?” this was a male voice, definitely not Sally’s.

“Is that Alex with you?” Giggles and grunting answered my question. Oh my God! I tried to make myself invisible by covering my head with the blankets, but sleep itself, was a long way off.

In a haze of confusion and unfamiliarity, morning finally dawned. As realisation hit, I glanced sidelong at the bed on the far side of the room. Lumps and bumps confirmed my suspicions, but no movement. This was good. This was my chance to escape.

I cast my bedding aside gingerly, careful not to ruffle any sheets. Slipped out of bed, pulling my clothes on in one fluid movement and was out of there.

I followed my nose to the source of delicious smelling coffee. My shoulders relaxed with relief when I stepped into the guest dining room to the sight of cooks busily setting up the breakfast area. None of my friends seemed to be up yet, so I shyly asked if I could have a cup of coffee. I took the steaming mug with me to that voluptuous settee from the night before and sipped contemplatively.

I wondered about the change in Jonah’s opinion of me. Could it really be over the fact that I didn’t help to push the broken-down car? Were the signs there before but I just hadn’t noticed them? He was to be ‘the one.’ He is the one with his initials carved into my hand. Forever.

With the dregs of my coffee staring forlornly up at me, my melancholy mood escaped in a sigh. I guess I just wasn’t good enough. Not marriage material. With the sun streaming in through the French windows, I looked towards the sound of chatter and heels. This heralded the arrival of Alex and Sally, hand-in-hand.

“Morning Ellie, you’re up early.”

“Morning, yip, I smelled the coffee and followed my nose.” A fake grin accompanied my response.

“Come join us for breakfast.”

I took the chance at a gallop and seated myself at their table. While we scoffed our creamy scrambled eggs and crispy bacon, Sally confided in me that Jonah had told Alex what was bothering him.

At this point, Alex removed himself from the table with the excuse of getting more toast. Sally continued in a conspiratorial whisper, “Jonah said that you thought you were too high and mighty to help push the car last night. Too prissy.” She ended with a smug dip of her chin.

Eyes aghast, “But I wasn’t being prissy, there was just not enough room for me to help push at the back of the car.”

“He thinks you could have made an effort if you’d wanted to. You should talk to him.”

“I tried last night. Where is he now?” 

Alex arrived back at the table just in time to answer. “He’s gone into town to do the banking.”

“On a Sunday?”

Shrugs from both. We finished our breakfast in silence.

With our plates empty, we scraped our chairs back to stand up and leave, while Alex announced that he’d drive us home. “The others went back with Jonah in the hotel transport.”

I had no response, I just stared at the scuffed toes of my cowboy boots. What a waste, I thought. Out on the gravel driveway I peered into the distance, sure that I could see a plume of receding dust issued from the one that got away.

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Author Bio

I’m a retired Childcare Educator after 20+ years in the industry. Initially, I thought I’d work in a quiet bookshop café, since I’d done the barista training 3 times over the years, but, of course, COVID happened, and the café industry suffered. I’ve since never gone back to work and have happily embraced the writing life. I also volunteer at our local cat rescue centre and on our local reserve to help control erosion of our foreshore. My husband and I are empty-nesters and live with our fur baby Maisie Moonlight, a Ragdoll kitty.

Each day starts and ends with a bit of reading. In between, I’m either hustling the housework, or hassling my husband! Just kidding, he works full-time from home so I make sure we have all our meals together, and the rest of my day is equally idyllic. If I’m not actively pursuing a writing or volunteering project, I love to potter in the garden, try new recipes (I ‘try’ to grow my own herbs), and go for walks amongst the trees, love them.

I predominantly enjoy writing about midlife relationships based on my 40+ years of experience together with the same man. Whom I’m still madly in love with. I’ve written a full-length memoir and a mini-memoir detailing our road to relationship success. More recently, however, I’ve turned to a more romcom style of writing, but still in the midlife category. 

I do have two more mini-memoirs in progress, however these are not relationship centred. One outlines my path from frump to triumph in an unexpected triathlon challenge; the other details a weekend getaway with my sister to Uluru with surprising spiritual experiences.

I love the feeling of contentment putting pen to paper gives me. Giving words to wisdom, if you will.

For more about Elora, visit her blog: www.creatingsparksthatlast.blogspot.com