My Father was a Switchman

Introduction: This is a slow build love story between two men in modern times. The story touches on the difficulties of expressing such love in some cultures. In this case, the culture is that of ranchers and cowboys in the high desert country of central Oregon, USA. Such places are on the rough edges of the change in understanding of normal human sexuality. Ultimately, this is a story of hope for the power of love to overcome the power of hate. To that end, it is a Valentine's Day gift to those who share that hope. Since this is a Valentine's Day Contest story, your comments and votes are important and appreciated! ~ yukonnights

Tags: gay male, gay love, love story, western, cowboys

All copyrights reserved by the author, yukonnights and published solely on Literotica.com

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My father was a switch-man, and his father was a switch-man before him. I remember him telling me when I was young, "Willy, I'll tell you what your Grandpa told me when I was just a boy like you. He had said to me; Bobby, you've been up here with me and seen how all the trains can be sent off on their way down a certain track. It looks simple from up here in the tower, but if those trains get on the wrong track, there'll be hell to pay and probably some dead people too. It's my job to make sure they all get started on the right track so bad things don't happen."

"Now it's my turn to tell you Willy. I want you to hear me now, and remember it as long as you live."

"Yes Papa," I said. I liked it when he told me about when he was a boy.

"Willy, our lives are like those trains down there. They can go off on any track, but not all the tracks will take them in the right direction...and if our lives get on the wrong track there'll be hell to pay. Trouble is, there ain't no switch-man to set you on the right track. No sir, you are the one that has to figure out which track you're gonna go down Willy. You need to try and figure which way is the right way for you to go. The life you have will depend on the track you choose. Trust me son, it's important you get on the right one."

"But they all look the same, how will I know the right one, Papa," I asked. I understood it was important, because I had heard the stories of trains that had got mixed up on the wrong tracks.

"Well, I'm just telling you this part now 'cause you're still a bit too young to figure all the right tracks just yet. The point is, you need to learn to look way down the track of where a decision might take you. Those decisions we make are the tracks our lives run on. You remember that car crash last week where all those folks were killed," he asked me.

Yes, sir," I replied.

"All them people were killed because one man didn't look down the track before he went to Grumman's Tavern and got drunk. And he didn't look down the track before he got in his car and turned the key. And now he's dead and four other people are dead. Now that's just an example. That one should have been easy to foresee, don't you think?"

"Yes, sir. He should have known he shouldn't do that," I said and started to get the idea of what Papa was telling me.

"Yep, that was an easy one to look ahead and see way before it happened. But one day, you'll need to try and look even farther down the track of your life...and sometimes you won't be able to see everything so clear. Even when you can't see everything, you still have to do your best to figure what might go wrong way down the road," he explained.

"How can I see so far," I asked.

"When you get older, you'll be able to see further ahead and see things that might derail you a little better than you can now. Even when you can't see everything, that's when it's even more important to keep looking forward down the track of your life so you can throw the brakes on if things go wrong. Don't worry about all that now, I'm just telling you what you can understand...I'll tell you more when you're ready."

*****

Papa was as good as his word, and he did keep telling me about looking down the track of life until the day he died. I thought I understood. But if I did, I had missed seeing the biggest obstacle I might ever face in finding a happy life. The divorce papers laying there on the dashboard, awaiting my pen, made Papa's warnings crystal clear now.

The thing that still nagged at me though; I had known...deep down I think I knew it wouldn't work. Susan was a city girl through and through, and knew nothing of the life I was working for. The very reason I had been in that particular university was because of it's Ag program. She knew I had inherited my uncle's ranch out in eastern Oregon, but I should have been smart enough to know she didn't have enough experience on ranches to understand the realities of such a life. I had spent every possible moment out there with Uncle Giles, my mother's brother, and knew from an early age this was the life I was born for. I was shocked when he died, for he was truly a second father to me. Just as Papa had done his best to pass his wisdom down to me, so too had Uncle Giles taken me under his wing to nurture me into manhood. Looking back, if I could have let Susan just spend a summer break out there with me, it would have saved us both a lot of heartbreak. Once we finally married and made the move west, I quickly realized that she had fallen in love with the romance she fashioned in her imagination about living on a cattle ranch. Like Papa always said, look ahead Willy...look as far as you can see. But Papa never talked to me about being struck blind by love. I had just thought it would be a beautiful ride like Mama and Papa had known.

Even though I could accept she had made a mistake in thinking she loved me and this life, I never could quite understand why Susan couldn't have just left it at that. I couldn't understand her bringing up the stuff about my bisexuality though. I hadn't hid from her the fact that she was my first woman, nor did I hide the fact I was bi and had explored that side of myself after I was away from home in college. She even thought it was hot, and shared a couple of her own exploratory bisexual discoveries. Plus, we both swore our fidelity even before getting engaged. No, the way she thew all that into my face came off as petty, bitter and unnecessary...a way to make all this my fault instead of admitting her own folly.

"It's over now, no good in rehashing it over and over." I said to the empty road as I made my way into town. I wanted my attorney to look these papers over before I signed...then have him send the whole mess off so I could try to forget about this mistake in life, five years was enough time wasted. Thankfully, she had no claim to the ranch, thanks to Uncle Gile's own wisdom in looking down the tracks of life. He had made it clear in his will that the ranch was to remain in our family as long as there was someone who would keep it in operation. I couldn't even sell it, if someone else in the family wanted to keep it as an operational ranch. Uncle Gile's lawyer was now my lawyer, so he was very familiar with the trust they had created.

As I drove through town toward my destination, I noticed a few Happy Valentine's Day signs. How ironic, I thought to myself, I'm getting the final papers signed on the day set aside for love. "Ha! Love. You can keep it Mr Valentine!" It was to the world I said it, and to Susan, and to all the fools who believed in love! "I don't need it and don't want it!"

*****

"Well, William, I don't see anything in their filing that even hints at wanting to make a claim on the ranch. This is all a straight forward mutual divorce, no kids and minimal liquid assets makes it a simple matter. Your signature makes it all final, so breathe easy son...old Giles saved your ass on that one."

"I think I owe Uncle Giles and you a big thank you, Mr. Graham," I said sitting back with a huge sigh of relief.

"I'll get the papers out first thing tomorrow...you staying in town tonight?"

"No sir, I need to get back. Radio says we're in for a good snow and I have things that need tending out there. Once I get things running a little stronger, I'll try to find someone to give me a hand with the chores and keep an eye on things so I an get away more. I remember Uncle Giles always had a good ranch hand in the bunkhouse when I'd come for the summers. The old bunkhouse is still there, in good shape...maybe next season I can afford some help."

"Son, your uncle had no doubts about you being able to run the place...neither do I," the old lawyer said.

"That's about the best thing I've heard all day Mr. Graham," I said as I got up from the chair, reaching my hand out to his for a shake.

As I was just at the door he added, "You be careful driving back out there Will, it's looking real nasty out."

"I'll be careful, and thanks for everything," I replied and closed the door.

It was indeed getting nasty! The cold wind blew in from the northwest and was forecast to collide with wet air coming in from the southwest, bringing up to a foot of snow over the next couple of days. Thankfully, my cattle were already all gathered into the winter pastures which were securely fenced and closer to the main ranch structures. There wasn't a lot that could go wrong, unless the temperatures really bottomed out. If the river iced over completely, then water would require a lot of effort. "Oh well, can't worry about that till the time comes," I said to myself.

I figured I might as well do some grocery shopping while I was in town, and after another hour doing that, I turned toward home. The wind had picked up and it was already snowing. One last stop was to fill up the truck at the station on the edge of town, then get down the road before this got worse.

It was just dark enough to need the headlights by the time I was finally on the two lane highway heading north. The wind was giving me a fit as it buffeted the cabover camper I still had on the truck from earlier this fall...the added weight actually helped in the snow, but it didn't like this wind! My Uncle Gile's ranch was a little over five thousand acres on the North Fork John Day river. It wasn't a large ranch, but it was in the river bottom and had water rights. That water was the only thing that made it practical to try and make a living on such a small ranch in this part of the country. The high desert was lush in the spring, but it didn't last through the year. The bigger ranches counted on a lot of open range BLM graze, and in some cases relocated their cattle to winter graze further south. But we were able to raise our own winter hay on the 'Housetop G' ranch, as it was called because the brand had a capital G with a triangular roof over it. No, it wasn't one of the big ranches, but it was mighty sweet and a perfect family operation.

I was daydreaming somewhat as my eyes remained focused on the white line that stretched into the darkness. The drifts were already forming in the usual places. But it was more or less just another day in this country, I was just thankful for the warmth of my modern truck. Since I was a kid, my imagination always tended to look backward...back when folks used wagons, or just their own two feet to travel through this country. They were tougher than me, that I knew for certain.

It was with those thoughts going through my mind that I almost didn't see the person sitting huddled on the side of the road! "What the fuck," I shouted, and then brought the truck to a stop. I made a u-turn, and went back to see what the trouble was. My first thought was someone had run off the road in the wind and snow. The person was trying to get to their feet when my lights allowed me to see. I pulled back across the road, and stopped on the apron about ten feet from the ghost like figure covered in a thin brown blanket. I tucked the pistol in my waistband, grabbed my coat and gloves and eased out of the truck. The cold wind was like an assault as it blasted bits of snow and sand into my face!

The person had been unable to stay on their feet, and was once again laying slumped on the side of the road. It was creepy out here in this howling wind, the dark was now so black it would be impossible to see anything without the truck lights. It would be a rare event if this was some kind of trap to get a good Samaritan to stop for a robbery, nonetheless the whole thing was spooky as hell to me. I eased forward doing my best to peer into the nearby darkness, finally seeing nothing unusual I closed the space between me and this poor stranger.

I called a "hello," but got no response. I knelt beside the bundle, and pulled the blanket aside to see a young man who was clearly on the edge of freezing to death! I did a quick check for a pulse on his neck, and said "Thank God, he's alive." His clothes were soaked and frozen, I had to get him out of this wind! I didn't know If I could lift him, but when I did, I realized he must be all coat and clothes as he wasn't very heavy. Setting him carefully down at the back of the truck, I unlocked the camper door and lifted him inside. After hopping up onto to tailgate, I stepped over the frozen mass, closing the door behind me.

It was as cold inside the camper as it was outside, but at least we were out of the wind! I knelt once again to his side and slowly began to unwrap the wet semi-frozen blanket and clothes from his chilled body. I thought a minute about what to do...I was closer to home than town, so it seemed safest to go to the ranch...if he didn't wake up I could call the police...it would be impossible to get the camper warm quickly...best move him to the cab. I stripped all the blankets from the camper bed and laid them out on the floor and then moved the now naked young man onto them, wrapping them as tight as I could around his pale body. He was shaking and clearly in a lot of distress, and had yet to utter a coherent word. Once again I stepped into the freezing blizzard and opened the passenger side door. As quickly as possible, I carried the poor soul to the truck and eased him onto the seat.

With everything closed back up, I got back behind the wheel and turned the heat to maximum. I was feeling the effects of exposure myself, and I had only been out there a short while! Maybe I should go to the hospital, I wondered again. Damn it! The voice kept telling me this kid needs a doctor. "Okay, back to town," I said and pulled out. I drove as fast as I thought safe, and was feeling better about just getting to town and some real help for this guy. I was almost too late in seeing the five foot drift of snow that stretched across the road in the lee of an embankment! I hit the brakes and the truck skidded on the slick pavement to a stop a few feet from the drift. I should have remembered this place, it was a well known road hazard. With no other option open, I turned once again and headed toward the ranch. As I drove, the cab became downright hot, I squirmed my way out of my jacket and took my hat off. Shortly after, I heard a muffled moan from the mummy wrapped beside me. I pulled over and opened the covers at his face. He was awake and alive, his blue eyes looking at me in bewilderment.

"You're safe now," I told him. "I found you near frozen on the side of the road a ways back, but you're safe now...we're almost to my place, and you can get cleaned up and warm there."

He seemed to want to say something, but it was only his eyes that could thank me...such striking blue eyes.

"Just rest easy, you're fine just where you are. You thirsty?"

He could only nod in the affirmative, so I came to a stop in the middle of the road and held the bottle of water I had open to his cracked lips. Being stopped in the road, instinct caused me to glance up for car lights, but the voice that plays in my head quickly told me...'aint no other fools gonna be out here tonight except you.' The stranger was able to get a good drink down, and I was feeling better about his chances.

With the water, his voice found it's place and he said in a hoarse whisper, "Thank you mister, I figured I'd die out there. I saw you, but couldn't get my body to help or even say anything."

"Just lay back down, and save your strength. We'll be home soon and you can get a warm shower and food if you feel up to it," I told him and said a silent prayer of thanks that he hadn't died on me.

Once we got past the old town of Ritter, the road turned into good gravel and dirt...it wasn't far to home now. I knew this road, and knew it in all kinds of weather, we'd be home in another twenty minutes at the most. I was never so glad to see uncle Gile's house-top-G brand above the gate to home. About a mile through my own land, and the old ranch house stood like a welcoming friend.

"I'm gonna pull up close to the house and carry you inside, all your stuff is in the back but it's soaked and frozen." I eased the truck close to the covered porch and said, "Okay, this is as close as I can get you...wrap up best you can, I'll get you out from the other side."

I ran around the front of the truck and opened the passenger side door, he scooted as best he could to me and I reached in and gathered him and all the blankets into my arms. He held both arms tight around my neck as I carried him into the house. Thankfully, Uncle Giles had fitted the old place with a propane heater, so it was a welcoming warmth we entered into. I laid my burden on the old leather sofa and said, "Just lay here and rest, I'll be right back. Just gonna bring in your stuff and some groceries then put the truck in the barn."

He just looked at me and nodded okay. I stood there actually looking at him for the first time. Before, he had just been a gray shape in the dark and cold. But now I could see an attractive young man with disheveled shoulder length hair of a reddish-brown hue and the clear creamy skin that so often accompanies it. The big blue eyes watching me seemed to be asking me a million questions...while remaining guarded and aloof. Truly a most striking contrast to most of the men around here. We just stood there looking into each other's eyes, until I turned away to my chores. 'What's the chances of this even happening...all I can say is he's one lucky guy, another half hour and he'd been dead.' I mused to myself as I faced the cold wind one more time before I too could relax.

*****

I closed the door on the storm for what I hoped was the last time and shouted to by guest, "Damn, it's cold out there! The thermometer says it's twenty-two degrees, but that wind must be blowing twenty miles an hour hour at least!"

The young man was standing close to the propane wall heater with his back to me. The blankets I had wrapped him in from the camper were still on the old sofa. I couldn't help taking a look at his nude form. It had been a long time since I had felt this particular stirring in my loins. Like I had noticed on his face, his entire body was the same smooth cream color and his butt was perfectly proportioned, round and full. I took one last quick look and turned away lest he catch me. I noticed his wet clothes in a pile where I had dropped them and gathering them up said, "We best hang these near the stove so they can start drying."

When I turned back toward him with the wet clothes, he was facing me and the sparse triangle of ginger hair drew my eyes downward. I took a quick look and forced myself to look away. When I walked toward him to hang the clothes on the wall hooks next to the stove, he turned away, facing the stove again. "I'll go see what I can find that you can wear until your stuff drys out."

As I rummaged around in my clothes, everything I found was clearly way too big for him. Finally, I found some flannel pajamas in the bottom of a drawer that might fit. They were some plain drab brown plaid things left behind by Susan, they may be too small but it was worth a try. I grabbed some heavy wool socks, and headed back to the main room of the old house. It was a pretty basic house that had been built long ago when life was much simpler. Like so many such dwellings, it had it's start as a one room affair but had been added to over the years. The main room was still the center of activity though, being kitchen, dining and living space all in one. It was a rock structure built from material that was close to hand. The bedrooms and bathroom came much later than the original, but matched in style and construction. It was warm in winter, provided a fire was going, and cool in summer. The original fireplace was still there, but my uncle had fitted it with an efficient wood stove and I figured this storm called for a fire. I always tried to leave it kindled up and ready to start, so in short order it was adding it's cheer to the room. To me, this old building was home...the only home I would ever want.