Him Who Made the Seven Stars

Him Who Made the Seven Stars 18

Him Who Made The Seven Stars
By Waddie Greywolf

Chapter 18

"My family and I went separate ways, and they stayed separate forever after. My father was all for farming... and all my brothers turned out farmers except one, and he ended up the worst of the lot -- a sheep-man, and a Republican." ~ Teddy Blue Abbott

Billy was used to waking up earlier than his alarm clock. It almost seemed like he had a built in alarm which would waken him about thirty minutes before it gave out with its soul jarring buzz. Lately, he’d been setting it to play the only radio station you could get around the hill country; a station out of Brady, Texas who played country and western music. He woke and found himself being held by Nick’s right arm with his head laying on his bird-man’s massive chest staring at the dark handsome aureole of his tit. It was a mere tongue flick away. The temptation was too great. It looked too inviting to pass up the chance and like sneaky-snake he did exactly that. He flicked out his tongue and gently teased it for a few seconds, then moved to gently engulf it with his lips until his taste buds could gather the full essence of his demon dad’s distinct signature masculine flavor. Did he die during the night and wake up in heaven sucking on an angel’s tit? And not just any angel. The most handsome of them all.

“Ya’on’t fries with that?” Nick asked like he heard the young man say at the Whataburger.

Billy almost choked laughing, “No, but some sweet angel-milk might be nice,” he replied.

“Yore’ wish is my command, Kemosabe,” Nick said and almost immediately Billy could feel the first few squirts of a sweet milk flowing from his surrogate dad’s teat. He could swear it tasted like watcher milk.

“Mmmm,” Billy moaned as he swallowed more and more of Nick’s warm, fresh milk. He stopped for a second, “You been hold’n out on me, Tonto?” he asked.

“Naw, Master Billy, it just never come up, and I didn’t wanna’ take nobody’s job away from ‘em. Sometimes a man’s feelings and sense of self-worth depends on his talents and what he brings to the banquet. We all have a need to be appreciated for our contribution. Boomer’s doing a fine job providing you with milk, and with you, Hank, Buck, and the twins extra support, things are going alone fine,” Nice replied.

“‘At makes sense, but how do you know how to produce watcher milk?” he asked.

“You don’t think Boomer is the first Grigori watcher I done run across in my many years, do you?” Nick asked.

“No, it stands to reason you probably met a large number of various species in your travels,” Billy replied.

“One of the earliest protectors I was assigned was a huge Grigori. He would make Boomer look like a teddy bear, but he was one of the most gentle, kind, giving, and lovable protectors I ever had. His name was 'Gronk,’ and I loved him dearly. He wasn’t sure about me at first, like so many others he was prejudiced against me from the bad propaganda he heard, but he gave me a chance. I made damn sure I never gave him cause to doubt me. Over the years, we grew close and developed a deep admiration for each other. He became fiercely dedicated to me. He would have done anything for me and proved it. He gave his life for me to insure I was rescued from a tight spot, and went on to live for both of us. To this day, I carry the essence of the big beast. A part of him is still alive within me, and he just chose to share his milk with you. He admires you very much,” Nick said.

“That's remarkable, Nick. I don’t doubt a word of it. I suspected you might be a collection of various beings you’ve known and loved over the centuries. It would only seem reasonable you would find them a place in your heart or psyche for them; sort of like an big steam engine pulling many cars, each one filled with memories of those who passed or who were forced to take different paths. That could be wonderful, but I can also see how it might become a burden,” Billy said.

“You’s too damn wise for your age, Son, but you’re right. It can be both, but for the most part, only the good parts and the wisdom remains; as they were good and faithful to me in life, so are they in spirit. They only come to me when I need them, I’m feeling down, lose confidence in myself, or I call to ‘em ‘cause the ache in ma’ gut hurts too much from missing them,” Nick said.    

“I think I done give ma’ little buckaroo buddy more’n just healing him,” Billy said.

“Mental communication?” Nick asked.

“Yes, sir, I heard him reach out to me to tell me he loved me just before I fell asleep last night. I could have ignored him, like not answering the phone when you don’t wanna’ talk with nobody, but I couldn’t. I remember being alone when I was his age, calling out to the voices in the universe to come to me, to comfort me, to protect me, and they did. Truth is, I weren’t lying to them news folks yesterday. We did bond, and I do love him like he’s ma’ little brother. I told him I loved him, too, and he was right to tell his mom a real cowboy don’t never forget his buddy. I told him I would be in touch soon and wished him a good night,” Billy said like Nick was his confessor.

“My advice?” Nick asked.

“Always, Pa,” Billy replied.

“Wait a couple of days before you contact his mother. See what your people learn about their situation. You don’t want to scare the poor woman to death. I don’t know if you’re aware, but there’s something not right with her baby, her younger daughter. The lights are on, but it don’t look to me like there’s anybody home. Either Mary Rutherford has a genetic deficiency or her husband did. A weak gene can cause havoc in the early development of human children and many things can trigger them. When you healed Randy you unwittingly corrected his defective gene. It’s the old horse and carriage adage: you can’t have one without the other, but the horse goes before the cart. To fix the problem you had to fix the cause. The oldest girl don’t seem to have anything wrong with her. Mrs. Rutherford was younger and probably in full health when she gave birth to her, and the defective gene didn’t get passed on. It did in Randy and the youngest. My best guess is, she didn’t have Randy until her husband was sent overseas, and she got pregnant with the baby while he was home on leave shortly before he was killed. The stress of separation and the angst of living apart may have triggered it,” Nick said.

“If Mary is the carrier, can I correct it in her as well as the baby?” Billy asked.

“I don’t see why not, but you’re wading into deep water, Son,” Nick replied.

“I know, Pa, but what if she is the carrier, finds a good man, and wants to get married again?” Billy asked.

“If you decide to heal the baby, do it with her holding the child and fix both at the same time. She won’t know,” Nick replied.

“Good think’n, Pa. You deserve an early morning blowjob for that bit of advice,” Billy said and smiled.

“Naw, like my love for you, my advice and info’s free, Kemosabe. Howsomever, if’n you just feel a powerful, uncontrollable urge deep in yore’ handsome gut you need to provide yore’ old pa wiff’ some comfort, I assure you it will be most gratefully appreciated,” Nick said tenderly and stole a kiss.

“I can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing, Tonto,” Billy said and took his bright angel’s large cock into his mouth and swallowed him like the whale what ate Jonah. Only, Billy wasn’t satisfied with his initial attack. He forgot something. He pulled off, looked into Nick’s eyes, grinned, ran his index finger around his teeth inside his mouth, and they vanished. He winked at his surrogate dad and made the plunge once more like a stunningly handsome, young Greg Louganis off the ten meter platform; the glory and beauty of the male human body in a perfectly controlled motion. This time, Nick groaned like Billy’s throat was the best thing to happen to his male appendage since sex was invented. Billy’s throat felt like a fine glove just made for Nick’s big cock, and as horny and primed as Nick was, he knew he couldn’t hold back for long.

His master took several strokes on his cock from the tip to the base. About the fifth time Billy pulled off to the head, he pulled Nick’s foreskin back, held it, and made the fearless plunge again. That was all it took, and Nike exploded deep into Billy’s throat as the cowboy ground his lips against his angel’s pubic hair. After their conversation the first morning about pubic hair, Nick allowed his hair to grow back. More than a week passed and the effect only made his pa more ruggedly appealing to Billy. The young cowboy couldn’t get enough of his surrogate dad in either form, angel or demon.

Billy cleaned Nick with his mouth and moved to his waiting arms. They kissed a tender kiss and Nick ran his tongue around Billy’s mouth to gather the lingering flavors of his own ejaculate. “Open yore’ pie hole, Kemosabe,” Nick said gently. Billy complied and Nick returned his teeth. He smiled and nodded his satisfaction with his job. “You know the more you take of my seed, the more of my genetic information you gather unto yourself?” Nick asked.

“I ain’t really thought about it. But the removal of my teeth, for your comfort, and their return is a pretty neat trick. Makes for a more pleasant and satisfying blowjob, don’t it?” Billy asked.

“Absolutely, Kemosabe, no argument, but they’s other things you will begin to discover,” Nick replied.

“As long as you’re by my side, I ain’t gonna’ worry none about it. I figure if it happens, it will happen for a purpose, and I feel confident with you to guide me. You done damn good so far,” Billy complimented Nick.

“That’s what I’m here for, Son. It’s what a good pa does for his boy,” Nick whispered and stole another kiss. “I’d offer to return the favor, but I think your posse is awake; they’ll be in here in bed with us at any moment,” Nick said.

“I agree, I hear’d ‘em, too. Ah, the joys of family,” Billy said facetiously.

“Y’ain’t fool’n me none, masked man. You love ‘em as much as I do,” Nick allowed.

“I wouldn’t wanna’ take our trip without them, Pa,” Billy said quietly.

“I know. Neither would I,” Nick agreed.

The barn door opened and three heads peaked around to see if they could detect any activity.

“C’moan in, guys. We’s awake. We just ain’t got up yet,” Billy called to them.

They paraded in and immediately got to work cleaning Samson and Maybelle’s stalls.
Billy dressed and made a pot of coffee for him and Nick. Their morning was underway. That morning the twins and Boomer surprised Billy and decided they would try a cup of coffee with their Hosanna cakes. With enough sugar and watcher cream it was a bit more palatable for them, and they seemed to enjoy it more. Billy and Nick even had a little watcher cream in their coffee and to Boomer’s joy, declared it made their morning a bit brighter.

* * * * * * *
Billy and his posse timed their arrival at the big house perfectly for the twins to be ready to help in the kitchen. Roz was already up doing the chores Kate usually did, and she got the men a cup of coffee. Kate came into the kitchen only minutes behind them. The others slowly drifted in. Moss spent the night with Enoch in his room and there were knowledgeable smiles when they came down together. Billy was even more surprised when his uncle arrived followed by his big lumbering bull of a ramrod, Tron. Billy remarked to his pa he was glad to see they were getting past having to hide their every action. Kate overheard him and commented, “Thank God!” she exclaimed under her breath and everyone broke up.

“What time did you finally get to bed, Roz?” Kate asked.

“A little past midnight, Mistress,” Roz said sheepishly.

“Well, I don’t know about the rest of the household, but it was like listening to a lone angel calling for her brothers. There are no words for it other than 'heavenly.’ I never slept so good in a long time, dear heart,” Kate declared, “I already been in to check on our patient, and she told me she wept so bad, her attendant had to get her another pillow,” she added.

“What chu’ talk’n about, Grandma?” Billy asked.

“Roz snuck out to the barn last night after we went to bed and played her viola for a couple of hours. It was just barely audible; enough to be a comfort rather than a distraction. I’m happy to report Zelma and I have decided we have a major talent on our hands. Roz Q. Cumber isn’t just a flash in the pan. She’s the real thing. Roz is an artist,” Kate declared.

“Is that all? I could a’ told you that from her performance yesterday afternoon,” Billy said and grinned.

“The only problem was, after she finished and started to return to the house the ovation she got from her brothers and sisters who gathered around the barn to listen would have woke the dead,” Kate said and roared with laugher.

“I’m sorry, Mistress, I tried to calm them, but they were so enthusiastic,” Roz said.

“Nonsense, Roz, you deserved the ovation and the love of your brothers and sisters. They will have their turn, and then you can support them,” Kate said wisely.

“I’ve never found anything I love more than playing my viola, and you’re right, it has the voice of an angel. The sound it makes is so lovely, it makes me cry sometimes,” Roz said.

“It ain’t the viola what provides the voice, Roz,” Kate said firmly, “It’s only the instrument by which the real angel gives it a voice to speak,” she added.

“Hear! Hear!” several said in agreement with Kate.

“Thank you, Mistress, I’m deeply touched by your words,” Roz said.

Clyde came into the kitchen followed closely by Balthazar. The black angel had a perturbed look on his face. He was not a happy camper. Billy got him and Clyde a cup of coffee and handed them a couple of Hosanna cakes. “Bad morning, my handsome friend?” he asked Balthazar.

“What point is there in saving someone’s life when you’d love to choke her to death the next day,” he said in frustration and everyone roared with laughter. “She has two more days to stay in bed after today. She knows it, and promised faithfully she would abide by our wishes. Yet, she insisted on getting up to come down here with us this morning. We left Andy in charge, and I’m satisfied he’s one cowboy what can’t be moved by her charm or her petulant bullying. I told him to think on her as nothing more than one of those cows out there,” he said. Everyone laughed harder at the poor angel. Clyde placed his hand on Balthazar’s shoulder in a gesture of sympathy.

“Sit, have a cup of coffee and a Hosanna cake, and we’ll have her rice and watcher milk prepared in a minute. Roz just about has it ready,” Kate told him.

“Thank you, but no, Mistress Kate. I must return. She just might distract poor Andy and overpower him. I must be there to protect him from the she-cat from Hell. She knows better than to try it with me. I’ll let Clyde bring both for us, then after we take her for her morning walk, I’ll send them down for their breakfast. Adieu, sweet lady, wish me luck,” Balthazar said to Kate with a sweep of his arm and and a deep bow. Everyone stood and applauded for him. He smiled, turned, and left the room.

“I think Zelma has met her match,” Nathan said.

“You just may be right, Son,” Kate allowed and shook her head, “I’ll have a talk with her this morning. I know she wants more music today. I don’t know how you men are going to get anything done while she’s here,” Kate lamented.

“We got us a lot done last e’nin,” Moss spoke up, “Me and ma’ big brother was learning to use our new Apples, and we discovered all sort of information we thought might be helpful and possibly useful. We even found a company what specializes in greenhouses for unusual circumstances and harsh environments. We done come to the conclusion you’s go’n about this project to house the herd wrong, little brother, by wanting to start small and add on as you go. We done us some projections about money, labor, and time. It turns out you get the best return on your money and the project will be more flexible and grow quicker with our plan; plus, you got the extra added advantage of accomplishing your second phase quicker than the first by cutting cost and time in half,” Moss said.

Tron was sitting with his mouth open listening to his boy. Nathan laughed at him. Nathan always thought Moss was considerably more intelligent than his old man gave him credit for being. Moss was retiring and quiet most of the time. He lived his young life in the shadow of his bull-of-the-woods cowboy dad and out of love and respect never wanted to draw attention away from Tron.

“I’m open to anything, gentlemen. After breakfast, show me what chu’ got,” Billy challenged.

Moss elbowed his partner to speak. “Okay! Okay!” Enoch exclaimed, looked at Moss like he was angry then broke into a big grin, “You might wanna’ save yourself a headache interviewing and picking twenty-five bean counters or fancy planners to head the project, Boss. You may wish to build a town, but don’t get the cart before the horses. You don’t need city planners when you’re trying to billet a herd. Wait until you get your workforce housed and in place ready to go. Let them pick twenty-five or thirty of their biggest, best, all purpose general handymen to get the foundations built, basic plumbing, and wiring ready for what we propose.

“Put ‘em up in the bunkhouse. Take out the apartment in there for more room. Increase the size of the sanitation area and use the other half to add to a mess area for tables. Double up the beds with military style upper and lower berth bunk beds. Use half the area for bunking and half as a kitchen area. It will be tight for a while, but according to Clyde, Andy, Dociean, Roz, and Dorcas, these slaves are young and can accept a challenge. Buy a couple of them Wolf ranges you talked about and put one in there. Rotate six of them for kitchen duty each week. They can prepare two meals a day. Breakfast is pretty simple. For lunch they can eat slave chow and a nutritional biscuit. It will be good for them and keep them regular. I know ‘cause I lived on it for two semesters in college, and it didn’t do me no harm,” Enoch said, “In fact, it slimmed me down, and I was in the best shape I ever been, in them two years. If I’m around here a lot, you can count on me joining them for lunch. If they get a good breakfast, a nutritious lunch, and a solid supper, they’ll be living better than most slaves on other ranches,” Enoch explained.  

“We got plans in our computers,” Moss spoke up, “They’s rough but to scale and shouldn’t be too difficult to follow. We ain’t talking building no Taj Mahal here. It’a a basic meat and potatoes slave quarters until we can accommodate them with better facilities. When we get the first thirty housed, we double them up as well, and we bring in another sixty who will build their own living quarters. They will go faster than the first project because you got three times the workforce. Each crew will benefit from the other’s knowledge and learn from their mistakes,” Moss said.

“Why is it like I’m listening in stereo to one presentation?” Billy asked and grinned. Several laughed at his metaphor. “In all seriousness, I’m anxious to see what you men got for me to consider. I think you make a great team,” Billy complimented his two big older brothers. The big cowboys seemed pleased with themselves.

Talk was lively around the table but most came from those who did some work the evening before and were interested in having their ideas heard. Nathan and Tron had some good ideas and thoughts on how to supplement Moss and Enoch’s plans. The rest of Billy’s family remained silent, so’s not to interrupt what they considered to be important conversation about the future. They wanted to see it come about as much as the others.

“Anybody else got anything for me?” Billy asked not expecting much.

“Since you gave us one of the new Windows computers yesterday, Dociean and I found out some things about the Rutherford family, Master Billy,” Dorcas said.

“Was it difficult?” Billy asked.

“No, not at all. Their generation were big followers of Facebook and other social websites and we were able to follow them from childhood all the way through meeting, marriage, and Mr. Rutherford’s tours of duty in the Marine corps. He was born and raised on the ranch they live on with her mother-in-law. Mary was raised in a Methodist home outside of Dallas, Texas. She was attending the University of Texas to become a school teacher when she met Darrell Rutherford on spring break at Padre Island. She was a freshman and he was a sophomore at Texas A&M studying veterinary medicine. They dated exclusively throughout college and got married his senior year.

“He was commissioned, and to pay back the government for his education, was indentured to them for six years of military service. As far as we can tell they never actually lived together for any extended period of time. She was still going to UT when he was shipped overseas to Afghanistan as a medic. He spent time off with her and his family in Fredericksburg. Mary completed her senior year at UT and had her first baby shortly after she graduated. She went to live with Mr. Rutherford’s parents, hoping to get a job teaching in Fredericksburg,” Dorcas said.

Dociean picked up the story and continued, “Since all the cutbacks in education by the new Theocratic government, she couldn’t get a job and was force to live on the military allotment the government sent her once a month. It was barely enough for her and her baby to live on. The elder Rutherfords were on Social Security, but only the old man was getting it. After major cutbacks in eligibility and funding for the program, his wife couldn’t get anything or any health care benefits. Old man Rutherford was a Vietnam veteran so most of his health care was taken care of up to a point. He was a heavy smoker, got lung cancer, and died a couple of years after his boy went into the service.

“Then there was only one income left in the household and that was Darrell’s government allotment for his family. Grandma Rutherford has no income at all and is sick herself. Fortunately, the old man had enough sense to will the ranch directly to his son when he died, so Mary and Grandma both got a place to live but only a small widow’s benefit from the government from her husband’s death. The ranch became Mary’s and her children when her husband was killed. Grandma Rutherford is only living there by the grace and kind heart of Mary Rutherford. As far as we can tell they’re barely getting by, Master Billy,” he finished.

“I was afraid of that,” Billy said, “It’s a sad commentary on our country’s state of affairs. The richest nation on Earth and we can’t take care of our own people, because of religious and corporate greed,” Billy lamented and sat for a minute. No one said anything.

“There’s more, but we just decided to give you the basics. We have a complete file we put on a memory stick for you to review when you have time, sir,” Dorcas said.

“Well done, Dorcas and Dociean. We may not be able to change everyone’s life, but we have it within our power to improve the Rutherford’s,” Billy allowed.

* * * * * * *
“Enoch, do you have any influence with your grandmother?” Billy asked.

“Damn little, Boss,” Enoch said stabbing another bite of ham with his fork. “Ya’ont me to have a talk with her?” he asked.

“It would be greatly appreciated,” Billy said.

“I’ll go up after breakfast and give them men a break. I’ll do my best,” Enoch said.

“You might remind her we have one more session we must go through with her day after tomorrow in the evening to repair the the damage done by the tissue and blood she’s lost. If she don’t cooperate with her caretakers, not unlike Humpty-Dumpty, we may not be able to put her back together again. Her survival depends on her willingness to work with us to bring her to the point where we can allow her more freedom,” Billy explained, “Our team is doing its best to see she makes it, and we need her to respect and mind her keeper. He’s an expert. He knows what he’s doing, and he was sent here especially for her,” he added, “It’s only three damn days,” Billy said loudly in frustration.

There was a great silence around the table, then Nathan slapped his knee and broke up laughing. “‘Ere’s only one man in this house she’ll listen to, Son, and you know it!” he said strongly.

“Oh, sweet Jesus!” Billy exclaimed and rolled his eyes toward heaven.

“Naw, it ain’t him,” Nathan said and got another laugh.

“All right! All right! I’ll go up and try to reason with her,” Billy conceded.

“Ya’ont Moss and me to be yore’ wingmen and back you up, Boss? We could always climb a nearby tree and hand ya’ down a limb,” Enoch asked and grinned.

“You’re too kind, brother. Naw, somebody in this house has gotta’ be brave enough to face her. I’ll jes’ shove ma’ Wranglers down inside ma’ buckaroo boots, pull on me pith-helmet, strap on ma’ sidearm, hold my bull-whip in ma’ right hand, a big chair in ma’ left, and go into her cage by myself. I’ll look her right in the eye so’s she’ll know I ain’t afeard of her none. You cain’t never let ‘em think you’s afraid. Close the door behind me, lock it, and no matter how much I holler or scream, whatever you do, for God’s sake, don’t--open--the--door! Understand?” Billy demanded. Everyone broke up laughing again.

“Don’t forget your tranquilizer gun, Billy. She’s had almost a full day to recover. She’ll be hungry,” Kate added causing more laughter.

“Good point, Grandma, a strong ‘sedagive’ just might work,” Billy allowed and laughed.

“You might wanna’ take one a them fiddles with you, Son. I understand music’s been known to calm a savage beast,” Tron added to much laugher.

“Good idea, Ramrod, but when you’s looking into the face of sudden death, I won’t even have time to rosin up the bow. Roz, you stand outside the door with your viola, and if you hear me scream, play something pretty, maybe it’ll distract her just long enough for me to shoot off a tranquilizer dart,” Billy said. Everyone was going crazy laughing at the exchanges. One thing about cowboy hyperbole, Billy thought to himself, it won’t make a difficult situation any easier to deal with, but it sure can make them a hell of a lot more fun to consider.

* * * * * *  
After breakfast, Billy climbed the stairs to his office next to his main room in the tower. He picked up the handsome maroon colored leather folder containing the fine picture of Madame Spartza and opened it to gaze upon her beauty. He was once again taken with what a beautiful creature she was. Big? No doubt, but in her own way remarkably feminine. There was no contradiction between being part humanoid and part bovine which might give someone unfamiliar with such creatures the first impression of being a chimera. Neither Madame Spartza nor her male counterpart, Nick’s guardian and protector, Beauford were chimeras. They were a unique race unto themselves and carried only one set of chromosomes.

Billy learned, separately the males had unusual powers and formed strong bonds with those whom they deemed worthy and agreed to protect. The females had their own unique talents of seeing into the future and acting as a great mother for those who found themselves without direction. Billy’s earlier analogy of comparing Madame Spartza to the twins 'Earth mother’ was more than a little accurate. However, together, a male and female Shedu or Kerubim were awesome with their combined powers. They were so feared by many early cultures they were rarely allowed to be together. To make sure their combined powers were never realized or utilized, many tried to kill off their race to prevent their conjoining. They were truly one of the most remarkable races in the universe and Billy found himself in the position of bringing the last of their race together under his protection.

He projected his thoughts across the universe and knew the moment he made direct contact with the lovely Madame Spartza. << I knew you would become my protector when you placed your hand upon my back and felt my heart, Master Billy,” >> she sent to him.

<< I understand, Princess. It was a great honor. I will humbly and graciously accept what is to be. I think Sir Beauford has come to realize the same, but I should not wish to usurp your current protector’s position nor my surrogate dad’s. Balthazar loves you very much, and is totally dedicated to you, >> Billy sent in reply.

<< I know. I love Balthazar with all my heart as well, but things change in the universe. He will eventually become your faithful slave, but once Beauford and I are installed under your protection, you must assign him another to protect, >> Madame Spartza sent.

<< Oh, dear God! I shudder to think, >> Billy said, << No! Please! Don’t even think it! I don’t want to know right now. Save it for me, and we will talk again, Princess, I promise, >> Billy said laughing to himself.

<< Coward! >> he heard Madame Spartza giggle.

<< The very personification of the word, my beautiful Lady, >> he sent and they shared a laugh. << Now I must go do battle with the dragon lady from Houston Land, but I will carry my sacred icon of your lovely countenance with me for protection, >> Billy declared and laughed again.

<< Forgive my attempt at humor. You are no coward, Master Billy. You are, indeed, a brave young cowboy, but you will prevail against she whose name we shall not speak. She will melt before your strong understanding masculine presence and become as a lamb to your words and wishes. Only one other cowboy could tame her, and like your chosen surrogate dad carries important parts of his past loves, you were assigned to carry a part of Travis Houston Redbone within you for this very purpose. Your uncle was right. There is only one man she will listen to, and it’s you. Trust Travis or give him sway. He will guide you. Be firm but sympathetic, and she will beg to accept your easy yoke, >> Madame Spartza sent with a smile in her voice.

<< Thank you, ma’am. I will look forward to seeing you again in person as soon as I can get away, >> Billy said sincerely and they broke contact.

Billy tucked the leather folder under his arm and walked down the stairs to the kitchen. Everyone stopped talking and looked at him like they never saw him before. Billy spied Poly first and spoke to him, “You there, Pollux, run git me yore’ fiddle, cowboy,” Billy said.

Kate looked at him funny. “I know that voice, Billy, I’d recognize it in a room packed with a thousand cowboys,” she said.

Billy grabbed his grandmother, pulled her to him in an embrace, and kissed her tenderly on her forehead. “Nathan was right, there’s only one cowboy in this, here, ranch house what can tame that gaul durn woman and make her git her girdle on straight,” Billy said.

“Travis?” Kate asked glassy-eyed.

“Now, don’t go git’n all teary-eyed, darlin’, like a dogie what just lost its momma,” he said, “Billy needs more’n a little help with that woman, and he’s channel’n me to go up there wiff’ him and screw her damn head back on,” Billy sounded just like Travis Houston Redbone. Enoch’s mouth dropped open, and he turned white as a sheet.

“My God! It’s ma’ granddad, Moss. I’d recognize his voice anywheres,” Enoch said to his partner.

“Yeah, h’it’s me, Son. Now, don’t go git’n yore’ bowels in an uproar. I see you done finally got hooked up with the right family. About damn time, boy. ‘At’s a gotdamn handsome buckaroo you got ‘tere for a saddle buddy. Any cowboy worth the name would be downright proud to call him his mate,” Travis said, “You happy, grandson?” he asked.

“If’n I’s any happier, I’d be twins, grampa,” Enoch said and grinned.

“Good! Good! Glad to hear it. You’s in the right place at the right time. Cinch yore' belly strap tight, Son,‘cause it’s gonna’ be a ride like you ain’t never been on before,” Travis admonished his grandson.

Pollux returned with his fiddle in hand and gave it to his Master. “Thank you, Son,” Billy said and smiled at his slave.

“You gonna’ take my advice about the music?” Tron asked and grinned.

“Yeah, that confounded woman may be difficult to deal with, but after I play her a little tune, she’ll settle down right nice-like and listen to what I got to say,” Travis replied through Billy. “Good to see ya’ll, but I’ll be leaving this young cowpoke when I’m done. Ya’ll be good to each other and love one another, ya’ hear?” Travis demanded, then he laughed.

Billy turned and walked to the stairs. He slowly climbed to the second story and walked to Zelma Jane’s room. He was in his Billy persona when he walked into the room.

“Ah, my cowboy has come to rescue me. Come in Billy, sit down, and tell me about your plans for the day. And you brought your violin. How nice. Will you play a tune for a bored old lady?” Zelma asked, and motioned for him to take the seat next to her.

Billy turned to his slaves. “Gentlemen, breakfast is waiting for you downstairs. Take your time. Have and extra cup of coffee with some Hosanna cakes. Relax. No hurry. I will be here with Mrs. Redbone for a while. When I’m through, I will come down and get you,” Billy said in an encouraging and comfortable voice like he was in control of the situation, and he was trying to put their minds at ease. Balthazar was only a bit hesitant, but decided to obey was better than questioning his master. He bowed deeply to Billy and Zelma and left with Andy and Clyde. Billy followed them to the door and closed it behind them.

Zelma watched him closely as he returned to his seat. She was studying him. There was something about the way Billy walked that struck a chord within her. Travis used to walk that same damn way with his hips thrown forward and his boots slung out from side to side. Without saying a word Billy took the violin from its case, gave it a quick tune, and rosined up the bow. He placed it on his chin and started playing an old Irish ballad written by an American, Thomas P. Westendorf in 1875, ‘I’ll take you home again, Kathleen.’ Only, when Travis Houston Redbone used to sing it to his beloved, he would change the name to ‘Zelma Jane.’ Billy played it flawlessly and milked it for all it was worth. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Zelma Redbone turned ashen white and big tears began to run down her face. She lay there propped up with several pillows, grabbed her omnipresent kerchief, and began to blot the moisture from her eyes.

Downstairs in the kitchen the only sound heard was the Irin ramrod Andy, and two angels, Clyde and Balthazar, quietly eating their breakfast. All conversation ceased. The music drifted through the house like a haunting lullaby and came floating into the kitchen like a welcome sigh; an amen to a heartfelt prayer. “My God!” exclaimed Kate quietly, “he’s playing their song. If that don’t get my precious’s attention and rip her heart out, nothing will,” she said without nuance.

Billy finished, loosened the bow, returned it and the violin to the case, and closed it. He turned and smiled at Zelma Jane. There was no question she saw that smile before, thousands of times. “Travis? Houston?” she asked quietly.

“Who else would know our song, little darlin,’” Travis answered.

Zelma leaned forward, Billy took her into his big arms, and gently kissed her on her forehead. “You told me on you death bed the next time we met you would play our song for me, but I always thought you meant after I passed on,” she said.

“No. It’s me and thanks to the kid’s talent, I got to play it for you jes’ like I promised. Didn’t I tell you there was something special about this boy. Didn’t you read my letter like I done told you to after I died?” Travis demanded.

“I did. In fact, I sent a copy to Kate. Why have you come to me, Travis?” Zelma held Billy away from her and looked at him. It was Billy’s face, but it was Travis Houston Redbone’s eyes looking back at her. She looked into those eyes so many times they were imprinted on her brain.

“I’m here to pull you up by the tail like a crazy Armadillo what got drunk on discarded corn squeez’ns, and spank your bottom for being such an uncooperative and demanding wench for these good folks. They love you, Zelma Jane. They’s trying their damnedest to help you and you’re fighting ‘em and making life difficult for them at every turn. It ain’t like they’s mistreat’n you none, Peaches. They’s just trying to get you to cooperate wiff’ ‘em so’s they can take the final step; and with one more heal’n session, them old boys from the realm of glory or some such place, will restore you to perfect health,” Travis spoke harshly to his wife.

Zelma started crying. “Oh, fer God’s sake, woman. Git chore’self together. Where’s that Redbone backbone you’s always so proud of. I know you got it. You stood up to me, and backed me down enough times. I’d rather you yell at me than soak my cowboy butt with tears,” Travis complained.

“I ain’t crying 'cause I’m hurt or mad, Houston. I’m crying because you’re right,” Zelma wailed.

“Really?” Travis asked surprised.

“I been lost since you left me and got used to insisting on getting my way so much, it’s become a part of me. Old habits die hard. I just didn’t stop to think about it. Glad you come to me and pointed it out,” she replied.

“This young cowboy, Billy Daniels, loves and admires you. He looks up to you like you’s a goddess. Go on, Billy, show her what yore’ black angel slave had to leave back on his planet to come and help make sure our Zelma Jane, here, done got healed from the cancer,” Travis spoke to Billy.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Redbone,” Billy handed Zelma the picture of Madame Spartza, and she took a good look at it.

Travis took over and continued, “That’s a picture of a lovely Shedu, a Kerubim or protector of angels and other advanced races of people. Her name is Madame Spartza and Balthazar is her slave, her man-servant, and companion. They love each other very much, and it took some doing to convince her to give him up to come to Billy to assist him. Fortunately, for you, Billy and her shared an intimate moment and bonded as close friends when he visited their planet. If it weren’t for him, Madame Spartza, and Balthazar, to say nothing of Billy’s other angel-slaves, you wouldn’t be alive right now,” Travis scolded her, “Oh, and another thing, Balthazar is a noble creature capable of great love and feelings of compassion, and you demean him with your pet names. You treat him like a lap animal. For what he’s done for you, and what he’s already put up with, he deserves your full respect and best manners. For God’s sake, that big black man is a fearless warrior, woman!” Houston added firmly.

“I just didn’t think, Houston. I thought I was being cute, but I’ll admit to a little flirting with him,” she said.

“I don’t care if it was a little or a lot, it must stop immediately,” Houston insisted.

“All right, I’ll try, Travis. I promise I will. I want to live,” Zelma said.

“Why the hell you think these people went to all this trouble? You have to live, Zelma Jane. ‘Ere ain’t no two ways about it. You’re a part of all this, and you got to make sure our great grandsons ain’t brainwashed with religious ‘woo’ or cut-throat conservative beliefs, woman, so’s them and their kids will have a better world to live in,” Travis said firmly.

They had a few more intimate exchanges and Travis departed leaving Billy and Zelma Jane alone. There was a great silence between them.

“I’m sorry, Billy. I know I made you a promise before to behave and follow your angels’ advice, but this time it will be different. I will do as you ask and work toward making myself accept the idea of wellness,” she said.

“I ain’t asking for anything more, Ms. Zelma,” Billy said, “I admire your husband, ma’am. He’s a good man and a fine buckaroo,” he added.

“Travis Houston Redbone was one of the most dynamic men I ever met, Billy. He took a scatter-brained young débutante from Kilgore, Texas and lovingly but firmly shaped me into a woman who craved culture and the better things the good life could bring without losing touch with reality. Like any spirited filly, that wonderful cowboy kept a tight rein on me and could bring me to my senses with a sharp glance in my direction. He centered me. He was everything I could have wanted in a husband, a mate, and more. I make him sound like he was a tyrant, but he wasn’t. On the outside he was hard looking, rough spoken, but inside he was the most loving and gentle man I ever knew and treated me like I was the most important part of his world. Over the last few years, I’ve missed his personal strength and guidance. I lost a lot of my personal vision by indulging in frivolous excess because of my grief and loneliness. That stops today. I have responsibilities ahead of me which will require a strong will, a full heart, and a sharp mind. Thank you for letting Houston come to me, Billy,” Zelma said and cried in his arms.

* * * * * * *
Billy went downstairs and handed Poly his violin. He gave him a big hug and a kiss. “Thanks for the loan, cowboy. Travis Redbone told me to thank you personally, and to tell you he thought you and your brother are two of the best looking, most talented men he ever run across,” Billy said.

“Thanks, Master Billy. He seemed like a nice man,” Poly said.

“He is, little brother,” Billy assured him. “She’s all yours, gentlemen,” Billy said to Balthazar, Clyde, and Andy.

They were having their last cup of coffee and finishing up their Hosanna cakes. When Billy arrived, they hurried and finished. They wanted to get upstairs to see for themselves. They were astounded. The men couldn’t believe the change in their patient. She was bright, happy, and charming without baroque excesses. She did everything they asked of her without much comment. She was quiet, contented, and seemed genuinely concerned for her three caretakers. She would ask a question now and then if she didn’t understand what they wanted, but once they explained and she understood, she complied. She didn’t complain or whine for company or entertainment. Zelma Jane Redbone was a changed woman; almost like she’d been reborn. Even when Enoch and Moss visited with her for a while she was like a different person. She soon became the epicenter of activity in the house and people were dropping in more regularly to wish her well and check on her progress.

Tom called and talked with her for a while and couldn’t believe it was the same grandmother he left at the ranch. He even called Enoch to double check with him. Enoch assured him their grandmother underwent a complete change after a visit from their granddad. “It was amazing, Tom. Somehow, Billy was programed earlier in his life to channel our granddad, and we speculate several other important men. They don’t take over him. It’s more like another operating system takes over for a little while to accomplish a task, like you might have to switch from an open-source system to Windows to run a Netflix movie. They’re two separate systems, but only one will run the movie. In a way, our brains are little more than cybernetic meat-machines. If you can store a program on a memory stick, you can do the same with sections of the human meat-machine what ain’t never used most of the time. I actually got to talk with our granddad, and he told me he was glad to see I finally found a home here at the Daniels place,” Enoch said.

It was so fantastic, Tom couldn’t comprehend what Enoch was describing to him, but he didn’t pursue it further for fear of sounding like he was cyber-challenged. Later when he told his wife, Abby patiently explained the concept to him. Abigale was a whiz with computers and wrote several well received technical papers on cyber-systems. She understood exactly what Enoch was talking about.

“But, it’s difficult for me to apply such things to the real world, Abby,” Tom told her.

“You spoke to the bulls guarding the gate, right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Tom replied.

“They have animal brains what have been overwritten to accept their humanoid hosts when they morph into that form. Same thing,” Abby explained.

“Wow! This is really advanced stuff,” Tom said musing to himself, “The possibilities are endless,” he added in awe.

“It is and it isn’t, Tom, when you consider how far we’ve come in the last fifty years of electronic cybernetics,” Abigail said, “but, yes, there are far reaching ramifications of this technology we’re only now beginning to comprehend. What someone has done to Billy Daniels is far ahead of our current understanding. There’s no telling what that man is capable of, but I have the strongest feeling none of it is bad or terrifying, nor is it a danger to us as a people or a society,” Abigail added.

* * * * * * *
Billy went to Enoch’s room with his group who were interested in getting the project started. The big cowboys gave a brief presentation and everyone was impressed. They found a company in San Angelo who made prefab structures in several different models. All the buyer had to do was provide a foundation and hookups of water, electricity, and waste disposal. They would deliver them and set them in place. From calculations of lumber, time, and man hours, Enoch and Moss showed how the prefabs would actually be cheaper than gathering the materials and doing it themselves. Billy and his older staff of his uncle, Tron, Buck, Hank, Kate, and Clyde thought it was a great idea. It would cut the occupation time in half. While it was simple, Moss and Enoch’s presentation was professionally done and Billy was convinced their plan was better than anything he had in mind. He even got his bright angel’s stamp of approval. << That’s why you got these men, Kemosabe. They’s talented and knowledgeable. Give them the reins and let ‘em run, >> Nick sent to him.

Dorcas and Dociean got online applications for personalized VISA cards for himself and his two purchasing agents Hank Renfrow and Buck Appleby. It was all done under the corporate name of Highland Shire Project. Billy got on line and ordered two of the Wolf ranges he wanted from a company in San Antonio and they promise next day delivery. There was an extra delivery charge but well within the limits of transportation cost. All these things were taken care of before noon. Everyone went their way to get personal matters taken care of and to get ready for a light lunch. Billy was left alone with Nick in his office in the tower. He opened his wallet and got out the phone number for Mary Rutherford and dialed her number. Mary’s phone rang and Randy heard it. “It’s cowboy Billy, Mom,” he yelled.

“You got cowboy Billy on the brain,” she said and grinned at him. She was right, but didn’t have a clue why, “Hello,” she answered her phone.

“Howdy, Mrs. Ruthford -- Mary. This is Billy Daniels calling, ma’am,” Billy said.

“How nice to hear from you, Mr. Daniels. Randy said it was you calling. How did he know?” she ask.

“Sometime us cowboys got kind of radar inside what speaks to each other across time and space, Mary. That’s the unofficial cowboy answer which is based on meaningless palaver; intuition or lucky guess might be a more practical reason,” Billy said and laughed.

“What can we do for you, Billy?” Mary asked.

“I’s calling to invite you and your family to dinner, here to the ranch, next Sunday, if’n you’s available,” Billy said.

“Certainly we’re available and would love to come to your ranch for dinner, but I have my mother-in-law living with me, and she’s in poor health. I don’t like to leave her alone for long, and when I do, I have to pay someone to sit with her. May we bring her along?” she asked.

“Absolutely. My invitation was for your family and Grandma Rutherford is a member. It’s only right you should bring her. It might do her some good,” Billy said without elaborating.

“What time should we arrive and how do we get there?” Mary asked.

Billy told her she could come anytime after nine in the morning, but she should be there before one o’clock in the afternoon because that was the time his Grandma Kate served Sunday dinner. He gave her instructions how to get to the ranch and Mary wrote them down. They weren’t difficult, and she would have her cell phone to call if they got confused or lost.

“Thank you, Billy. I think I have all the information. We’ll look forward to it. Randy wants to speak with you. Do you have time to talk with him?” Mary asked.

“I always got time to speak wiff’ my buckaroo buddy, Mary,” Billy said.

“Cowboy Billy, how are you?” Randy almost shouted into the phone.

“I’m fine, cowboy, and how’s my favorite buckaroo?” Billy asked.

“I’m better now you called. I heard mom talking with you. Are we gonna’ get to see your ranch Sunday?” he asked.

“Sure. That’s why I called your mother, to invite ch’all out for Sunday dinner, and show you around the ranch. We’ll have us a good time and lots of good food to eat,” Billy replied.

“I can’t wait. I’ll be counting the days and hours,” Randy said.

“So will I, pod’na.’ You gonna’ send me a shout-out 'afore you go to sleep tonight,” Billy asked.

“I sure will, Mr. Daniels,” Billy replied with enthusiasm.

“Good. I’ll look forward to it, and when you and your mom drive down on Sunday make contact with me. I’ll tell you what to look for and where to turn,” Billy said.

“I will, Mr. Daniel. That will be great. I’m really looking forward to seeing you again, sir,” Randy said sincerely.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you again, too, buddy. Ya’ll have a good week, take care of your mom and grandma, and be good to your sisters,” Billy said.

“I will. I love you, Cowboy Billy,” Randy said.

“I love you, too, Randy,” Billy said and disconnected.  

“One thing I’ll say for you, Kemosabe-- you’s fearless,” Nick said and smiled.

“It will work out, Tonto,” Billy said quietly.

“Anyone else, I’d have reservations. With you, there ain’t no doubt in my mind,” Nick allowed.

“Thanks for your vote of confidence, Pa,” Billy said.

After a light lunch Billy was anxious to get started on the bunkhouse, and they gathered all the hand tools they could fine. There wasn’t much. Billy decided what they gathered wasn’t going to get the job done. They needed tools for all the workers, and not just a handful. They needed to drive into Fredericksburg and open accounts with the two major hardware stores and get purchasing cards for Hank and Buck. They spent all afternoon making lists of what tools they thought they might need and how many. The older cowboys were fast learning to use computers. They were enhanced along with the rest of Billy’s posse, and you only had to show them once how to do something.

They planned on a trip after breakfast the next day in the large van and Billy would take them to get accounts set up for purchases made by the Highland Shire Project. Hank and Buck had computer print outs attached to clipboards of things they needed. Everyone was feeding information to them about tools they might want to consider. Kate wanted to go along and take Roz and Dorcas to do more shopping for the week and weekend. The days began to fly by. They made a couple of trips into Fredericksburg to buy different things they needed and by Wednesday evening they were about ready to begin remodeling the bunkhouse.  

Wednesday was the final day of Zelma Jane’s simple cleansing diet and the next morning she could look forward to joining the rest of the folks for breakfast. She became a model patient and got more attention than she would have being petulant and uncompromising. She pushed herself to gain strength by walking just a little further each time her attendants got her up and helped her. Because of her improved attitude, her body was responding faster than anyone thought it might. Her final treatment was done in her bedroom, and it only took about an hour. When they finished she felt restored. She felt like a new woman. Zelma couldn’t believe her new found stamina. Now all she had to do was fuel the furnace, and she looked forward to it the next morning with a big breakfast. She slept better than she had since before Houston died.

* * * * * * *
The following day Andy and Dociean had fifteen sturdy males morph and Clyde outfitted them with one complete set of western clothes. Hank and Buck worked together to get everyone’s measurements so they could begin to order more clothes for them. Billy bought two new one-hundred gallon water heaters for the showers and two commercial clothes washers and dryers he ordered. The old cowboys discovered the Irin male slaves were a bit larger than the average human male, and the shortest were six feet. For some, they would have to get bigger beds or have them build their own. The beds they had in the bunkhouse were too small to be comfortable and Billy didn’t like the old, dingy gray, dusty mattresses. Since they were older, they junked them and bought materials for them to build their own beds.

Hank and Buck found a small local company who made mattresses and box spring sets and would accept special orders for a reasonable price. They were just getting off the ground and looking for a competitive slot for their product, but were having a difficult time raising capital and making a name for themselves. Hank and Buck put in an order for thirty sets and bought the wood for the men to make the frames for bunk beds. Enoch and Moss designed them and printed out plans. They weren’t great looking furniture, but they were designed to be utilitarian, extra sturdy, and would sleep just as well as more a more expensive bed. The Highland Shire order was large enough to put the bed makers on the map, and Hank and Buck assured them, if their beds were well received by their slaves, there would be more orders to follow because their master was buying up a large number of slaves for his new operation.

Until they got the bunkhouse fully functional the fifteen Irin men bunked it in the loft in the barn. Billy got new bedrolls for them and bought several portable sanitation stations for waste. Everyone pitched in to see the men were fed and comfortable. Billy was amazed at his crew. No job was too big or too small for any of them. Whatever needed to be done would have a willing volunteer standing ready to lend a hand. There was an air of pride and excitement in everyone, from the smallest to the largest, they were finally beginning to see some physical progress starting to come together. Billy was also impressed with his fifteen Irin slaves and their work ethic. He couldn’t imagine buying slaves on Earth who would be so willing and cooperative. Everything they did, they did with strength and attention to detail. When they were given a job, Billy could count on it being done right the first time.

* * * * * * *
Thursday morning the family was joined by Zelma Jane at the breakfast table. Those gathered stood and applauded for her as she came down on the arm of her main caretaker, Balthazar. He was scheduled to remain with her for another week as Billy’s slave and Zelma Jane’s attendant/protector. Talk was lively around the table, but as they were feeding two crews that morning and would be for a couple of days, everyone ate at a goodly pace to make room for the fifteen Irin cowboys.

“I hear you’re having guests for Sunday afternoon dinner, Master Billy,” Zelma said.

“Yes, ma’am, Ms. Zelma. I called Monday afternoon and invited the Rutherford family for the day, and they accepted. I’m looking forward to seeing them again in a little more relaxed situation,” Billy said.

“Will we have music Sunday afternoon?” she asked.

“Probably. I understand Roz downloaded and printed out the Haydn quartet in ‘f’ and I caught her and my fiddlers-two reading through it. It’s a sweet piece of music, not too terribly difficult, but a fine composition; the perfect work, with which, to cut your quartet-teeth,” Billy allowed. “I hope I have time to check out the cello part, but probably won’t. We might attempt a reading Friday evening or Sunday afternoon on the porch so the rest of the herd might gather around the house and enjoy the music,” he added.   

“That would be lovely. I understand you have an impromptu concert scheduled for Friday afternoon for the herd,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am, it will consist of me and ma’ little brothers on our new keyboards, their fiddles, and Roz has consented to join us. It will be mostly a hodge-podge of improvised pieces -- themes and variations -- and, for the last, some Texas music,” Billy said.

“I would love to hear it. Perhaps if I leave my window open,” Zelma said.

“No problem, Ms. Zelma, we got an old wheelchair in the attic we’ll bring down, and I’ll have my little brothers clean it up for you. If you don’t mind being on the same level as cattle you’re welcome to join us,” Billy said.

“I have no problem with cows, Billy. Cows have provided for me for years and their legacy still does. I would be honored to share an audience with them. They couldn’t be any worse than the upper class in Houston. I’m still getting the smell of cow dung and horse shit out of my carpets from my last soirée,” Zelma assured him and laughed, “However, I should probably leave them as they are. Most of those I socialize with equate the smell as synonymous with money,” she added wickedly and giggled.

“I do so love me some wicked Zelma,” Kate declared slapping her hands together and everyone laughed with her.

* * * * * * *
Everyone worked balls out Thursday and and half a day on Friday. After lunch and a brief siesta, Billy declared the weekend officially begun. He instructed everyone to lay down their tools, lend a hand in getting the large hay wagon into the field behind the big barn, and run power cords from the barn. He had his little brothers load the three keyboards, their fiddles, and the cello onto the wagon. Roz was invited to take part in their musical soirée and she carried her precious viola with her.

The twins did a great job of cleaning and restoring the wheelchair in the attic. Zelma’s angels got her dressed and simply transported her and themselves to a spot in front of the wagon where she would have a great view. The cows were already gathered and since they knew everyone present knew about them anyway, greeted and welcomed Zelma among them. Zelma’s sense of humor and her love of the bizarre, arcane, and surreal made her feel right at home among the fine looking herd of cattle.

When the men, and recently morphed Irin cowboys, got the stage set up, it looked really great with bales of hay placed around and put about to support several four by eight sheets of 3/4 inch plywood stood on end to act as an acoustic baffle to amplify and force the sound out to the front where the audience gathered. All the instruments were arranged like Billy and his musicians wanted them. As they walked onto the makeshift stage the cows began to stomp their hooves and yell greetings for their young cowboy master and his crew. Some of the bulls in the back started to chant: “Master Billy! Master Billy!” they said loudly over and over and the rest joined them. Billy turned to acknowledge them, smiled, and held up his hand.

He took the microphone and held it close to his mouth. “Thanks so much for your warm welcome. Once again I’d like to thank you for your tireless effort guarding the front gate. I’ve never felt more secure and safe in my life,” he said and he got a big laugh from his audience. “This is the first of our outdoor concert series and in keeping with my promise to your leaders Zeus and Thor, there will be one every week -- weather permitting, of course. They may not always be held on Friday afternoon due to scheduling, but if we can’t do it on Friday, we will schedule an earlier or later date,” he said.  There were more cheers and chants of ‘Master Billy.’

He held up his hand again for their attention, “This afternoon’s concert will be divided into three sections. The first will be a reading of a lovely Haydn string quartet. By reading, I mean we will all be playing it together for the first time. We may make some mistakes, but if we do we’ll stop and repeat the passage until we get it right. The second part of our planned program will be several lighter pieces which I will accompany on one of our electronic pianos and Roz, Cass, and Poly will be the stars. The last part will be classic Texas hill country music you can stomp your hooves to,” Billy explained to more yells and stomping of hooves.

Billy sat down with his players, and they started to play the Haydn quartet in ‘f’. While playing the first movement, they only had to stop twice to repeat a couple of sections, but both times it was Billy’s mistake. Roz and the twins playing was note perfect; although, Billy would like time to set down with them and work on continuity and phrasing. There were no breaks in the slow movement and only one in the last movement. When they finished the cows, including Zelma Rathbone, gave them a standing ovation. Of course, the cows were already standing, but Zelma jumped up from her wheel chair. Kate and the rest of the two legged critters joined her.

The second part of their impromptu program, Billy played the electronic piano while Roz, Cass, and Poly would switch roles playing the melody of several older popular tunes. Most of it was new to the cattle but several of the older humans recognized some of the melodies. They played almost a dozen show tunes and others Roz and the twins learned.

There was a brief break for a drink of water by the musicians, then they were back for the final portion of the program. Billy, Roz, and the twins really let their longhair down and sawed a major log with the Texas hill country music. They played any number of fast and slow tunes and the cows went crazy. They loved themselves some country hoedown music. Billy had Roz and the twins listen to recording after recording of different styles of playing country music and how best to present it to an audience. They were spot on with their delivery, and they were so astounding, Billy had to really work hard to keep up with them. The final piece they played was a goosed-up version of the old Virginia Reel, and it was a high-stepping performance.

The Irin cattle were a manufactured race based on another advanced civilization and they all contained the ability to share knowledge with each other in an instant. Andy, Dociean, Dorcas, and Clyde watched a lot of television to get a taste of Earth culture in earlier times. They would broadcast a weak signal while watching, but it was strong enough for any of the herd milling around outside to tap into to enjoy along with them. It was sort of like piggybacking onto another’s mental wifi signal except they used their brains instead of microchips.*

They watched the historical movie “Gone With The Wind” and saw a performance of the Virginia Reel. It was immediately transferred to the herd, and far beyond the stage, in the pasture, Billy swore he saw three separate groups of cows lined up, bowed to each other, and started doing a bovine version of the Virginia Reel. Billy knew about a half dozen different versions of the reel melody, and as he would play a different one, his musicians would pick it up and run with it. Roz, Poly, and Cass were having as good a time as Billy watching the cows dance in the pasture having the time of their lives; kicking up their heels, flicking their tails, and doe-si-doe’n with one another. When the two made the arch for the rest of them to parade through two by two, they would rise on their hindquarters and lock their front hooves together and stand that way until all the rest traveled single file beneath them to take their places again. It was an awesome sight. Certainly not one you see every day. Billy thought, up until that very moment, he never really realized what it meant to live a good, full life, and if he did not witness his cows doing the Virginia Reel he could never claim he really lived. He also wondered to himself if videos of this got out, how in the hell would he explain this one? They were just rehearsing for a new reality TV show, Texas Cow’s Got Talent?

Billy looked at Nick and tickled him, << Stand up, turn around, and look at them damn cows doing the Virginia Reel down in the front pasture, Pa, >> Billy sent.

Nick stood, turned around, and started laughing his ass off. The others stood to see where he was looking. Nathan and Tron fell together laughing. Moss and Enoch almost shit their Wranglers they were laughing so hard. Kate got Zelma up and they turned to look. They almost fell apart at the seams laughing. Laughter was good and healing for Zelma. It was a wonder to watch, and the dancing cows kept it up as long as Billy and his musicians played.

Billy instructed his band to play until they all had a chance to do one complete reel. It took a while but no one seemed to mind. It was a nice day with just the right temperature; neither too hot nor too cold; just right for an outdoor concert and cow dance.

* * * * * * *
“Goddamn! Would ju’ look at that, Bubba! Do you see what I’m see’n, brother?” Earl asked his hunting buddy.

“Sum-bitch, looks like cow’s a dance’n in that pasture over there,” Bubba replied.

“Pull over, Bubba, I gotta’ take me a closer look at this. 'At’s freak’n unbelievable!” Earl exclaimed.

Bubba pulled over to the side of the road. There wasn’t much traffic but several trucks passed, slowed, and the passengers would gawk. No one else stopped. “You got chore’ video camera in the truck, Bubba?” Earl asked.

“Naw, but I got my Nikon still shot camera. I ain’t sure if’n it takes videos or not, Earl,” Bubba replied.

“Git it, Bubba! Of course it takes videos. They all do,” Earl shouted.

Bubba returned to the truck and rummaged through the center divider of the front seats and found his new camera his girl friend, Louise, gave him for his birthday. He had it for months and still didn’t know how to use it. Earl knew how to use it and took several minutes of Highland cows doing the Virginia Reel. It even captured the music coming from Billy and his band. “Damn! Look at them cows go!” Earl said as he filmed everything.

“What’s they doing, Earl?” Bubba asked.

“Some dance. I think they call it the Virginia Reel, but I ain’t real sure,” Earl replied.

Billy looked up into the sky and saw two small birds with rather large wings way up in the sky circling like vultures on the warm air currents. Suddenly a bright flash of lightening shot down from the smaller of the two and zapped a video camera held by one of two big cowboys standing at the fence looking over at the dancing cows. The cowboy threw the flaming camera high into the air to keep from getting burned.

“Son of a bitch! Where’d that lightening come from?” Earl yelled.

“I think it was one a them birds up there, Earl,” Bubba said.

“Lightening don’t come from no damn bird, Bubba,” Earl said.

“My camera,” Bubba cried as he watched his little camera sputter and die.

Billy looked skyward and tickled the small bird, << Thanks, sweet heart. Great aim. Good shot! >> he sent.

<< Thanks, Master Billy. We take care of you, >> Edith sent back.

End of Chapter 18 ~ Him Who Made The Seven Stars
Copyright ~  ~ 2012 ~ Waddie Greywolf
All Rights Reserved ~
Mail to: waddiebear@yahoo.com
06/29/2012
WC = 12657

*Thank the ancients for microchips, though. The Irin brain didn’t have a program for spell checking; something every right wing blogger should use but rarely does. They’re much too lazy in their thinking to worry about such insignificant or annoying things like correct spelling. After all, ‘hate’ can be spelled in so many different ways, you moran. (Yes, Virginia, I know it’s spelled ‘moron.’ I’m only making a subtle point.) The Irin cattle really didn’t need such a helper program. They weren’t lazy or dumb. They were intelligent, aware, capable of sound reasoning, and they were taught if they were to communicate using the written word and have others take them seriously, they must learn to spell correctly. Even as cows, the Irin displayed more art than most conservative humans.

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