Everything that Glitters Ch. 02

In late March/early April, 1986, I was driving my buddy's dually across south Texas, pulling a four hour trailer with sleeping quarters to a TYRA rodeo. My wife was following with his wife and our combined four kids in our custom van. English language radio stations are scarce down that way, so we were listening to KKYX, 680 AM, San Antonio. I heard the first few cords of a song I was not familiar with, and my buddy exclaimed, "Listen to this!"

That's the first time I ever heard "Everything that Glitters is not Gold", by Dan Seals, co-written with one of the greatest songwriters ever, Bob McDill. Not the last time I heard it, though; I bought the cassette "Won't be Blue Anymore" ASAP, wore it out, and bought the CD a few years later.

Like most fans, I was disappointed by the music video, and by all those that followed. I found that strange, because that was the day of great music videos

My fascination with the story includes a man who can't let his old horse go -- if you ever owned a horse, you know - but it's focused on a mom that totally abandons her child and husband to pursue her rodeo career. I mean, I know it happens in every area of pursuit: business, singing, acting, sports, whatever, but why and how could she do that? What kind of woman does that? What were the circumstances, the influences?

Youth rodeos go on day and night for two-three, sometimes four days, so there is plenty of time for talking and solving the world's problems. We engaged in several discussions about this song with the rodeo crowd (which at one time or another included two World Champion ropers, a Finals barrel racer, and a Finals team roper -- and their spouses) over the spring and summer.

We never came near consensus on how that could happen, but there was consensus that top rodeo athletes are as much (or more) adrenaline junkies as top performers in any other field of athletics or entertainment, and are equally tempted to cheat. I heard stories that would curl your beard, and, years later, traveling with a high-level circuit performer, I saw some of it firsthand. Rock stars aren't the only ones that get room keys and panties with phone numbers handed to them.

Likewise, there are few women on the tour, there are dances after many rodeos, and the cowgirls are in great demand. Heck it's easy to fall in love during the grand entry, just watching the pretty cowgirls with their form-fitting jeans and western shirts, racing around on their beautiful horses.

Although they live in dream world, most rodeo hands are practical; if it needs doing, do it. I guess paying to play and needing the prize money every time you go out so you can keep paying entry fees and the bills has the effect of eliminating some of the superfluous and ideological - if you want to eat and/or feed your kids. Some are religious, as depicted in this story; some are not, at all. Some act morally, some immorally; some are amoral; just like in the real world.

So what I tried to do in this little story is introduce the reader to the world of rodeo and to the elements of this great song in part one, and then propose answers to the questions "Why would she?" and "How could she?" That effort continues in part two, as her daughter, ex-husband, family, and friends try to deal with the aftermath of her actions, and with her new status as one of the redeemed.

Fair warnings - (1) I'm not gonna stay in one lane (I don't drive that way or write that way); (2) Zane is an alpha male, he's just not loud about it. And, frankly, I can't imagine a beta on the tour anyway -- I certainly never met any. Oh, some were quiet, but they were just as deadly. Think Cobra rather than Rattlesnake. (3) A passel of you aren't going to like my hypotheses, but feel free to write your own version. Lord knows, this would make a good movie if someone would write it well.

So, without further ado, here it is - one of my all-time favorite country-western songs.

EVERTHING THAT GLITTERS IS NOT GOLD, BY DAN SEALS AND BOB MCDILL

Saw your picture on a poster, in a cafe out in Phoenix

Guess you're still the sweet heart of the rodeo

As for me and little Casey, we still make the circuit

In a one horse trailer and a mobile home

And she still asks about you all the time

And I guess we never even cross your mind

But oh sometimes I think about you

And the way you used to ride out

In your rhinestones and your sequins

With the sunlight on your hair

And oh the crowd will always love you

But as for me I've come to know

Everything that glitters is not gold

Well old Red he's getting older, and last Saturday he stumbled

But you know I just can't bear to let him go

Little Casey she's still growing and she's started asking questions

And there's certain things a man just doesn't know

Her birthday came and you never even called

I guess we never cross your mind at all

But then sometimes I think about you

And the way you used to ride out

In your rhinestones and your sequins

With the sunlight on your hair

And oh the crowd will always love you

But as for me I've come to know

Everything that glitters is not gold

Everybody said you'd make it big someday

And I guess that we were only in your way

But someday I'm sure your gonna know the cost

Cause for everything you win there's something lost

But oh sometimes I think about you

And the way you used to ride out

In your rhinestones and your sequins

With the sunlight on your hair

And oh the crowd will always love you

But as for me I've come to know

Everything that glitters is not gold

There is no sex in this chapter; if there were, it would be between persons over 18. The rest of the story belongs in Romance rather than Loving Wives, so it has moved.

From Part 1

Looking him directly in the eye, Cassie stoically stated, "Zane, once I cheated on you, lying to you was easy. I used drugs to get me through the day, and more drugs to keep me from admitting what a slut and whore I was, so I quit calling you and Casey. I could not think of you or my daughter because it broke my heart each time I did. Yes, the stories you heard were true; I did truly horrible things, again and again. It was easy to take the drugs and use whatever man was available to keep me from thinking about what a fuckup I had become.

The problem was, you can't stay drunk or high all the time, and sobriety was gut-wrenching. It wasn't withdrawal from the drugs; sobriety meant memories came flooding back, and I knew I had ruined my reputation and the life we had planned. You and my daughter, my mother, and all the friends I had gained over the years abandoned me, because I had abandoned them.

My 'friends' had become people like Rick, and yes, he wasn't lying -- to my eternal shame, I had sex with him and with an unknown number of others just like him.

I was in a spiral headed straight to hell, and I couldn't pull out. And then God intervened."

***

It was after three am when Cassie ended her story. She was wrung out emotionally and physically, as was Zane. He invited her to stay and sleep in the bunk above her daughter so they could see each other when they awoke. He thought that might be good for Casey, but Cassie declined, then asked if they would come to breakfast at her trailer at nine am. He accepted with a nod, and told her goodbye.

Then he sat down and rehashed the night.

He was satisfied that she had told him the truth, as far as it went, but part of him wanted to press her for details about her sexual liaisons.

'Why, though?' he asked himself. He had photos of her making out with men, descriptions provided by eyewitnesses, and his imagination had provided plenty of additional detail. What would it accomplish to make her relive and describe the drunken/stoned/strung out debauchery?

She did what she did; she admits everything; she swears daily to the God she long ignored that she will never again get involved with drugs or illicit sex.

She wants a relationship with her -- their -- daughter, who desperately wants her momma's love. She's said nothing about trying to reestablish a relationship with Zane, so that isn't a disqualifying factor.

Cut to the chase, if she is NOW a responsible and reliable person who won't endanger Casey, why not? Did her actions of more than two years ago make her permanently and irrevocably wicked? A pariah?

She's twenty-six years old; for twenty-four of those years, including the last two, she conducted herself as a moral person, he reminded himself. Do the other two years cancel everything good on her scorecard with Saint Peter? How about on my scorecard?

Too much deep thought for so late at night, he decided, and like only a man can do, he crammed all that into a compartment and went about getting ready for bed and a good night's sleep.

***

Casey was dressed and impatient to leave by 8:45, but Zane wasn't through with the horses, so she had to prance around and fuss until he was; then they went to Cassie's trailer. She opened the door, squatted down, hugged Casey, and asked how she slept. After her daughter's enthusiastic response that she slept very well, Cassie invited Zane in and handed him a cup of strong, black, hot coffee.

He thanked her for remembering, which drew a small frown. He quickly asked if she slept well, and she replied, "Surprisingly, I did. Perhaps our talk was cathartic, or maybe I was just exhausted, but I slept well. Did you?"

He turned his palm down, spread his fingers, and wagged his hand in the universal sign for "okay but not great."

Breakfast was delicious, and, he had to admit, his ex-wife looked delicious too. The loose-legged red shorts -- not quite short shorts, but close -- and the white button-up shirt with the tails tied at her waist did a great job of making her appear the young woman of every man's dreams. She was a little thin for his tastes, but her legs were still smooth and shapely, her B cup breasts were still perky, and that ass... that ass still graded Prime!

His cock began to swell, so he quickly forced his eyes to her head. Her wavy golden hair fell onto her shoulders; she was wearing light makeup and there was only a hint of red lipstick on the plumb lips that were pursed into the smallest of knowing smirks. The sky blue eyes were mildly crinkled around the edges as she fought the urge to smile at his appreciation of her body and looks.

"Busted -- sorry," he said, but the small smirk on his own face signified that he wasn't.

"Thank you," she replied. "I know I'm too skinny, but your appreciation is appreciated." She gave him a real smile, and turned to their daughter. He watched her, and wondered where his anger went. Oh, he was still gun-shy around her, but the angst and teeth-gritting rage had been replaced by feelings of loss and resentment.

Zane had things to do but Cassie was free, so Casey stayed with her all morning, ate lunch, and took her afternoon nap in her momma's bed. She was hyper when she awoke, and Casey got drug around the grounds by a little girl intent on finding her daddy.

She found him in front of his trailer with Brad, Carole, their kids, and 2 other couples with kids.

"We were coming to get you two! What would you feel about going to the carnival midway and the Old West Museum, then eating at the Botanical Gardens?" Casey jumped up and down in delight, but Cassie looked down at herself and asked, "Do I have time to change?"

Carole and Judy laughed at her. "Ha!" Carole replied. "Look at us! We're wearing shorts too! If that outfit is good enough to entertain guests for breakfast, it's good enough to wear to the midway!"

"Then can I at least put on some athletic shoes? These sandals aren't exactly made for walking!"

They hurrahed her, but escorted her to the trailer, where Carole, Judy, and Sarah escorted her inside "To make sure she doesn't get all dolled up and embarrass us. You know how rodeo queens are!"

As they were walking over to the midway, Zane explained. "Our second go ground isn't for two more days so we have some spare time, the kids need some exercise, and we could all use a little fun. I hope we didn't interfere with your plans for the day."

"I'm up in the same show, so I'm good." With a grin, she corrected herself, "Well, I did have to forego cutting my toenails, polishing my boots, and watching my soaps, but otherwise I'm good!"

Zane shook his head and muttered, "Women and their soap operas -- can't get enough drama!"

That got him chastised by all four women, who tried in a serious manner to explain the appeal of soap operas to four men who were shaking their heads in disbelief. Rambo summed their feelings with, "Rather take a beating!"

The midway was more fun for the kids than the adults, although everyone had fun. The museum was more fun for the adults than kids, although they had fun too. The Botanic Gardens, located just east of the fairgrounds, were enjoyed by all, but only after a good meal.

Casey held hands with her mom some of the time and with dad some of the time; as they walked back to the trailers, she insisted on holding hands with both of them so they could swing her like they used to. Zane and Cassie avoided touching throughout the day, but it inevitably happened from time to time. At first, they shied away like skittish colts, but after a while, the instigator just smiled and apologized, and the other smiled back.

Although she was discreet, Carole kept a close eye on them; she couldn't stand the thought of Zane and Casey going through what they endured before, and, although hopeful, she didn't fully trust Cassie. She saw the awkward touches, and saw each watch the other when they weren't aware, but Cassie did nothing she considered seductive.

Oh, she seemed well aware that Zane loved her butt and legs, and she did display herself rather provocatively from time to time, but it was coy rather than blatant.

Besides, it wasn't just Zane looking when she did; in fact, Carole elbowed Brad once when his gaze lingered on Cassie tying her shoes. He just grinned and shrugged his shoulders, meaning 'all men are dogs.' His wife knew that, and she posed a few times herself, drawing her own share of the attention. So did Judy and Sarah; men are dogs, but women are exhibitionists.

***

The stands at the arena were packed, as usual, and team roping was going on. They paused and watched from a distance. Their time from the first round looked good so far in the second; now to duplicate or beat it day after tomorrow.

Rather than a sing-a-long, they grilled burgers, sausage, and wieners, let the kids play, talked, and relaxed. Zane noticed that each time they ate Cassie closed her eyes and prayed silently, but didn't push for a table-wide blessing of the food. Everyone would have joined in if she had, but this seemed private.

Wyoming nights get cool, even in late July, so they packed it in about 9:30 and said good nights. Cassie looked askance at Zane, who invited her to help Casey get her shower and get ready for bed.

She jumped at the chance, of course, and read two books before her daughter said, "I'm sleepy, Mommy. I want you and Daddy to say my night prayers with me, and then kiss me good night."

"Now I lay me down to sleep..." she prayed, and then she kissed each, and proclaimed, "I love you." Within seconds, her eyes were shut and she was asleep.

Cassie looked at Zane with unshed tears in her eyes and told him, "You really are the bestest daddy in the whole world! I'm so sorry I did that to you and our precious daughter!" Then she fled back to her trailer.

More confused than he had been yesterday, Zane cleaned up and went to bed, again dreaming of a fallen blonde angel who needed his mercy to recover.

***

The coffee maker was hissing and gurgling as Zane anxiously awaited his first cup. It was barely six am, but he couldn't sleep anyway, so here he was, cup in hand waiting for the click that signaled the brewing cycle was complete. He had poured and taken one sip when he heard a light knock on the door.

He pulled his pistol out of its hiding place by the door and quietly asked, "Who is it?"

"Lindsey. I know it's early, but I need to talk to you."

He eased the door open, confirmed it was the young barrel racer who was now Cassie's closest friend, and invited her in. He slipped the gun back in its place, and signaled for her to join him at the dinette booth. He offered her a cup, she took it, and added the sweetener and milk he got out for her.

"I'll keep it quiet so we don't wake the sleeping angel, but there are things I need to tell you, and I need to do it now. No bullshit this morning; I'm cutting straight to the chase, Zane. You can ask questions after, okay?" He nodded, and she continued.

"First, yes, she really has changed. Yes, she really is who she seems to be. I know this clashes badly with what you know about her 'lost years', but I've been with her ever since that Sunday, and I'm telling you, she is almost saintly in her obedience to her pledges.

Second, she's got a problem she's not going to tell you about: dear old dad! He came after her with attorneys when she cut him off, trying to foist some BS 'contract' he claims she agreed to. My brother is a lawyer, and he shut that shit down quickly.

She hadn't heard from him in a while, but lately he's been stalking her, and he has a couple of his drug dealing friends involved too. She's scared, and I'm REALLY scared, for her. He is capable of anything, including harming her!

And third, you are killing her softly! The nicer you are, the deeper the wound. She wants you to scream at her, cuss her, hit her, do anything to punish her for what she did to you! Instead, without comment you include her in her daughter's life, and let her hang around with you and your friends. Being that close to 'the most wonderful man' in the world' is devastating, because she knows she fucked up so badly there is no future with him.

I don't know if you are really that kind, or that cruel."

Zane finished his coffee, got up and got another, then asked if Lindsey wanted more; she did.

Zane spoke quietly, but with a ferocious intensity. "So what would you have me do, Lindsey: cut her off from Casey, punishing them both for her mistakes, as she has been doing? I mean, what kind of woman decides she should pay penance by cutting off all contact with her daughter, AND her mother? Who is she punishing, damn it! To watch Casey cry on her birthday because her mother didn't even call -- do you have any idea how painful that was -- two years in a row?

You and Carole both believe she's changed, but what I see is the same selfish girl who ditched me, her daughter, and her mother, to chase her dreams in a drug-addled haze. It's still all about her! She sinned, so others must pay!

I call bull shit -- if anything, right after she 'saw the light', she should have come to us, begged her daughter for forgiveness, and asked to be a part of her life! Instead, she cut off what little contact she had: no more Christmas presents, no more trinkets from time to time to say she cared, not even a birthday present! Shit, she was a better mother when she was strung out on crack fucking everyone in sight than after she 'found God'! I call Bull Shit!"

Lindsey was wide-eyed, completely taken aback by Zane's furious response. She stuttered, "But Zane, she... she didn't feel worthy, so..."