Midnight Cowboys

Prologue Crockett State College South West Texas September 1967 Richard “Riki” Robards shoved the scuffed door open before he skidded to a stop. Grim and austere barely described the room he viewed. He’d seen sweeter jail cells. Oh s**t, oh goddam f*****g s**t. And I’ve gotta share this grody overgrown closet with a roommate? He stepped aside as Sanchez shuffled in with the fourth load of Riki’s stuff and dumped it in the middle of the dark, dreary room. “Tha’s it.” Sanchez, the senior Robards’ current man of all work, huffed out an aggravated breath. “I’m goin’ home now.” That left nothing for Riki to say except, “Gracias. Hasta luego.” Although he knew Sanchez did not care for him, that was okay. Neither did his family, really. Riki was on his own now anyway. Taking a step through the door, he caught sight of his reflection in the streaked mirror hanging over a battered chest of drawers. He addressed the image aloud. “You gotta make it work this time, my man. You’re down oh and two here. It’s either become a college student for real or head for boot camp. No other choices.” For an instant, he saw himself with a shaved head and a baggy camouflage uniform. The picture was not pretty. No, his party was over. Family purse strings had been tightened with a severe hand. And a Robards, he had been informed, did not run off to Canada as an alternative to military service. If he even attempted it, he’d be disowned completely. This time, he’d better buckle down to produce decent grades and acceptable behavior. Or else. After failing in one college and being expelled from another, he was running out of options. Exhaling a ragged sigh, he stepped aside at the sound of footsteps closing behind him. He turned to see a slender fair young man stumble to the door, holding a box balanced on his right shoulder, while he dragged a clumsy, abused-looking suitcase with the other hand. “Hi,” the stranger said, in a low, somewhat hesitant tone. “Wish I was.” At that, the other man’s eyes widened for an instant before he schooled his face to a neutral expression. “Yeah, right.” The new arrival glanced at the number on the door and then gave a nod. “You picked your side yet?” Riki shrugged. “I’ll take this one, the right.” “Okay.” The newcomer dumped the box onto the desk in his half and propped the suitcase against the foot of the second single bed. He took a couple of deep breaths. “Those stairs are a bummer. Just one more load, though.” For a moment, the two of them stood, taking each other’s measure. The newcomer wore a light yellow Oxford shirt, button down collar and all. With it, he had on neatly pressed khaki slacks and…penny loafers? Did anyone really still wear them these days? Riki suppressed a smirk. Holy s**t, a real preppy type nerd, dork or something, like square squared. Still, despite the uncool attire, the guy wasn’t bad looking. Part of Riki wanted to launch into a sneering attack. Something held him back. Maybe a vague sense of self-preservation. No use making an enemy of someone you had to live with, even a guy who might be induced to help with your homework or do papers for you. Fast as a riff on his Strat, Riki shifted mental gears. “Hey, I’m Riki. With two ‘I’s,’ like Jimi.” “Err, Hendrix, you mean?” “Yeah, the man, the hip one, the killer.” “Okay, cool. I’m Jerry.” After a beat, Riki surprised himself. “Need a hand with your s**t?” “Nah, just one more load. My typewriter and another box. I can deal with it.” * * * * Jerry clattered back down the stairs. He moved his rusty VW away from the loading zone before he grabbed the last of his stuff. With his portable typewriter under one arm and a second box tucked against his right side, he headed back up to his new home. Wow, college was really going to be different. He looked around at other students arriving, lugging their assorted s**t into the dorm. Most were in wide-legged blue jeans and bright T-shirts or flashy cowboy attire. Well, this was Texas, after all. Even if a few were dressed like he was, they were the minority. Across the parking lot, in front of another dorm, the incoming students appeared mostly female. Big hair, really short skirts or those grandma-looking long dresses. Foxy, most of them, but even from here he could hear them, most cussing up a storm. Back home, girls didn’t do that, at least right out in public. Here, every second word seemed to be “fuck.” Holy s**t, he’d never ever said that word in front of a woman or a girl! Good thing Mom and Grandma were not here. They’d be ready to drag him right back home to Piney Creek. All at once he recognized that his education was not all going to be academic. He’d fallen into a brand new world here, a world light years from the conservative little town where he’d spent all of his nineteen years. He thought about his new roommate and grinned. Riki, huh. Some name. Riki was one of those in jeans, elephant legged and long, right down over whatever he had on his feet. On top a black T-shirt with glitter and those psychedelic flowers and stuff all over it. Good looking, too. Almost black hair down over his shoulders and a wicked grin. Jerry was sure he’d seen a guitar case and a big amp in the heap of the other guy’s stuff. Maybe he even played in a band. Oh man, that’d be outta sight! And that was how it all began…