Women Study Pt. 02: Bowen and Noma

It took me all day Sunday to recover. Not only was I tired, I was sore. I wasn't raw sore, I was sore like I'd been thrown off my bike on a rocky trail, going downhill, all the way to the bottom, and winding up on a boulder. It is an understatement to say that Norma was a vigorous love maker. But the soreness was worth it. If I were the type to keep a diary, I would have entered last night's events in red letters. WHEW!

Monday at school was interesting. I got the usual, "Good Morning, Mr. D_____" from folks but I also got some, "How was your weekend, Mr. D_____", with a little bit of giggling from the girls thrown in. This was something that I did not remember hearing much of before. High school girls can be silly over nothing but it did make me wonder what they were being silly about that day.

When I walked into the classroom for my first class, I saw a tiny cowboy hat on my desk and a post-it note, "Ride'm Cowboy". I looked around as if I might spot the person that put it there but, of course, I couldn't. Everyone was looking down at their desk, though I did detect a few muffled snickers in the back of the room. I ignored the whole think and went on teaching my class.

After class was over and the students were clearing the room, one of them hung back. I sensed that she wanted to talk with me alone. She was...well...a GOTH! Small towns have their share of eccentrics and teenagers tend often to be more eccentric than the eccentric eccentrics. So, just like the cowboys "cowboy'ed up" this little high school junior lady, Mona to be precise, as all "gothed up". She didn't have anything on that wasn't black, unless it was metal. Dyed black hair, overly done black eye make-up, lipstick, and nail polish. You'd think the school administrators would have sent her home but, though it was a small town, it seemed to be a pretty tolerant populace--at least when it came to school attire.

"Mr. D____, can we talk for a sec, Mr. D____?" She wasn't at all intimidated, though she did have a flat tone to her little voice.

"The cowboy hat, and that sticker," she announced, "don't think those were put there just to make fun of you. I mean, it's a small town and word kind of got around that you were at The Corral Saturday night with Norma and seemed to have a good time there, and all. So...well...I'm not going to tell you who has a brother that told her...I mean him...I mean that person....that you seemed to cotton to the fun there and had a good time...it looked like...so, she...I mean they...that person...thought it might be cute to let you know that you were kind of an honorary cowboy now. So, please don't take it the wrong way...I mean...It's because we like you...we're not making fun of you at all."

"Well, Thank You, Mona," I said in my teacher's voice, "that makes me feel a lot better. And you can tell her...I mean them...well, THAT person or those persons...that I appreciate the sentiment. It's nice feel that I'm fitting in."

"O.K., Mr. D_____, " she said with a glance over her shoulder, accompanied with a knowing nod, "I'll make sure I say that to her...them."

I was relieved at that disclosure. In fact, it was nice to feel that I had a place in town, after more than a year of teaching there,

It was comforting. I was also glad that the token cowboy hat didn't have anything to do with me riding Norma, or more correctly her riding of ME, after our night out. But, as small of a town that this is, I can on only hope that nobody with even a modicum of hearing acuity was anywhere in the vicinity of my apartment early Sunday morning!

I was, however, more than a little curious about who might have been the Her...I mean Him....I mean that person.... who put the little hat on my desk.

**************************

One of the mysteries I was left with after my escapade at The Corral was why Norma had the nickname of "BB". I suppose I could have asked her straight out to her face but I didn't have the nerve to do that in case it turned to be a pejorative term with which she might be angry. I decided, then to seek out "Bondo" who, after all, was the person who acquainted me with Norma's nickname to begin with.

I traipsed over to Bondo's shop after school and found him pounding the metal on the bed side of an old 1960's pick-up truck. Back then, the actually worked the metal; today, they just remove it and put a new one on. But, that's beside the point.

"Hey, Bondo! Remember me? From The Corral, Saturday?"

"Oh, yeah. You were with Norma, right?" Stopping his work seemed to be a relief,

"Yeah, I remember. She called you Cowboy...maybe that'll stick...depending. What can I do for you?"

(Again, I'm glad I'm not transcribing Bondo phonetically; that tends to warp my mind more than a little.)

"So, Bondo, I don't know what my 'handle' is, exactly," I hunkered down with him to foster an informal and familiar conversation, "but that's what I'm curious about. I mean not so much MY handle but the handle you used for Norma...'BB', was it?

"Oh, Yeah...BB...yeah," he spit some tobacco juice into a dust pile (what can I say--some stereotypes are real) "yeah, I don't know, for sure. I mean, it could stand for 'Big Boobs', that's an obvious one, or it could be for 'Beautiful Boobs'? 'Boucing Boobs' are other obvious one...those are the ones I like to think about! I don't know....'Ball Buster'? that could be....she's a load sometimes. 'Big Bitch'? that might fit sometimes, too but I think you'd be nursing a bloody nose if you tried that one on her. But, really, I think you'd need to ask her brothers...I'm pretty sure they are the ones who hung that handle on her...I mean, for all I know, 'BB' stands for 'BaBy', or 'Baby Baby", she's the youngest in the family, you know?"

Giving him a clap on the back, I said, "Well, thanks for your time, Bondo, I'll keep that all in mind. I guess I'll just have to think of the flattering connotations when....or if..I use 'BB' on her."

Bondo had a quizzical look, "You said 'connotations'? Huh? What?"

"Not important, Bondo," I grinned, "not important at all...at all."

******************************

I had to wait until all of 5:30PM to hear from Norma. I was sprucing up my lesson plan for the next day, working on a "pop quiz". The phone rang and, since it rarely did except for school business, I expected it to be Norma. And it was.

"Hey, Cowboy! How'ya feeling today? Rest up on Sunday, did you?"

"Norma! Well, yeah, I'm doing O.K., Did a little jogging Sunday...not much...How about you? "

"Hey! I'm great! I did a lot on the shed yesterday. Put those hangers to good use, I mean the mental ones....I've gotta get that done 'cause it's going to be getting cold soon and I have to put stuff inside before we got snow."

"So, Norma, about Saturday night...."

"Oh, yeah, Cowboy, I had great time...loved it...and I hope you did too....but I want to talk about some things...and it's kind of about that but kind of about some other things too."

"Well, O.K., Norma, what's on your mind?"

"I think we should sit down, face to face, you know...and chat....well...talk, you know....coversome things that I think we ought to cover...nothing heavy....well nothing real heavy...you know?"

"O.K., I'm game. Where should we do this? like...'your place or mine' or what?"

"So, I can't do it tonight. It will have to wait until tomorrow. But there's a truck stop, Wreckers, about a mile east of town on the highway. They have a diner there and we can get some coffee or some food and some talk...O.K. How about 5:00PM tomorrow? O.K.?"

"Yeah, sure...see you there, then."

She clicked off and I began to wonder exactly what we might be talking about in this mysteriously prefaced conversation.

**************************************

The next day, I was sitting in the teachers' room eating my lunch and reading. My class schedule works out to be no 11:00AM class and nothing until 1:00PM so I have time to decompress, eat lunch, read, and organize my first afternoon class. In the back of my mind was Norma's request for "a talk" but I tried to put that aside and attend to my reading when one of the other teachers saw down at my table, Ms. Bloomfield, the Freshman English teacher, she was.

Ms. Bloomfield was anything but a "Schoolmarm". She was 35ish, 5'5" (1.67m) but trim, well dressed, rather good looking in a sculpted way and--as I had learned from the other teachers--was to be called Ms. Bloomfield...not Miss, Mrs. or Ma'am. She was not unfriendly but did tend to be about business. That's not to say that she was unpleasant; she could be perfectly charming when the circumstances dictated.

Well, Ms. Bloomfield was perfectly charming today. She pulled up a chair, opened a lunch bag, produced an apple and a knife, proceeded to skillfully peel the skin from it.

"Mr. D____, how nice of you to let me sit with you for a while," yes, polite and charming, "I don't know that we have ever had much chance to talk and I think this is indeed an opportune time."

"Well, thank you, Ms. Bloomfield, " I was polite back, "I'm flattered you want to do that. But, why 'opportune'?"

She rested from peeling her apple, set the knife down, and leaned almost in a conspiratorial way and lowered her voice.

"I think that 'cowboy hat' thing was rather cute of the kids, don't you? I mean, it is heartening to know that one has captured some affection from the students. Don't you?"

"Well, I was surprised at it and really even more surprised it's all around the school already...but once I got a little hint from one of the kids, I rather liked it."

"Yes, I know. That is nice, isn't it? But you know, and I've worked here over ten years, it isn't often that any of the teachers spend any time at 'The Corral', well...except for may the wood shop or metal shop instructors...and...mind you, I don't want to seem prudish...but it can be seen as unseemly for one of us to frequent places like that. I'm sure you can understand...I mean not that anything untoward or scandalous happened..but it might have...though I think it doubtful, knowing what I know about you....but one does need to be careful of one's image and reputation, doesn't one?"

"I see your point, Ms. Bloomfield, " I tried to answer as if I were not affronted, but actually I was, "that's certainly important. It's a small town and rumors get around. I understand things like that happening. I'm not sure listening to some music and watching some dancing is all that dangerous to my reputation but I will bear that in mind to avoid being confronted with any worse things. Oh, and I'm really not much of a drinker, usually a limit of one, so I think I can keep my wits about me. But thank you for your insight."

"I'm glad you have such a sense of propriety about you, Mr. D_____," her over-politeness and affected charm oozed like molasses, "but you know, also, that being in the company of a student is another question, especially in an establishment where liquor is served. It does raise some eyebrows in some quarters."

"Oh? You must be referring to Ms. Norma G____," I emphasized the 'Ms', "but I don't believe she is still a student here, am I right? She graduated last year. But I do think it was wonderful of the school board, and graciously accepting of the teacher corps here, to allow Ms. G_____ to complete her senior year after a two year absence. That was very compassionate. I mean, to think of a 20 year-old Senior--well, she IS actually 21 now--to circulate among a younger student body to me is the height of trust. Wouldn't you say?"

I'm not sure Ms. Bloomfield was getting my point. Was I trying too hard to be non-confrontational?

"Ah, yes, Mr. D_____, that's true. Norma isn't a student anymore," she took my point, "but I still think of her as one. I had her as a student in her Freshman year. What wonderful spirit she has. She can be a little headstrong, willful, and impulsive but she also has an abundance of drive, energy, and congeniality that serve her well. She does have an amazing personality, certainly a captivating one. Quite a girl...well, I do mean WOMAN, as Norma is now. Still, one must be aware of tongues wagging...mustn't one?"

"Thank you so much for your expression of concern, Ms. Bloomfield," I had to find a way to cut this off before I totally lost it, "and I will take all of this to heart. It is good to be able to have an adult conversation about adult matters. I am sure we all recognize how important it is that we all act like adults in these adult matters. Thank you again, Ms. Bloomfield."

Ms. Bloomfield, nodded, gave a pinched smile, "Thank you for listening, Mr. D_____. You do seem to understand and I'm sure you WILL take this all to heart."

"How very nice of you, Ms. Bloomfield, " my signal to stop talking, "I have a class to prepare for...I'm sorry....for which to prepare....I forgot for a moment that you are an English teacher. Perhaps we can talk some more in time."

In a way, I'm glad I had that conversation with Ms. Bloomfield. I am even more grateful that Ms. Bloomfield either did know about, or was genteel enough not to mention, Norma and I fucking each other's brains out that night. Talk about people doing some tongue wagging!

In any event, It gave me something more to talk to Norma about the next evening.

**********************************

The next day at school went to slow for me. There were, however, more "Hi there Mr. D____" from the students. I didn't detect any changes in the teachers, with the exception of a couple of icy stares from Ms. Bloomfield.

I got to the truck stop about 10 minutes before 5:00PM and picked out a booth in the coffee shop near the rear and off to the side, more important, on the side of the coffee shop away from the bathrooms. That way there wouldn't be much, if any, walk-by traffic to disturb Norma and me as we tried to talk.

Norma was all smiles as she came in. She spotted me right away and made her way eagerly to our table. I don't know if you could say that she was "dressed up" or "dressed down" for the occasion. She wasn't wearing her flamboyant Cowgirl Costume, so I suppose you could say that she was "dressed down". Then again, she wasn't wearing the blue jeans, works shirt, and work boots that she had worn at the hardware store, so I suppose you could say that she was in some way "dressed up". The fact was that she had on a loose fitting floral shirt, women's khaki slacks, and sandals. It wasn't cold enough out to require regular footwear. Her hair was done-up with a bun in the back, a very attractive look for her. To me-and I'm sure to many others--she looked....delicious!

"Yo, Cowboy, you got here early," her voice was cheery, "I'm usually on the dot."

I stood up like a gentleman to welcome her to the table. "Hi, Norma, being early is a bit of a fetish for me. Usually, if I'm 15 minutes early, I feel like I'm a half-hour late. But, that's just me."

She sat down and leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "There's the one I owe you from Saturday morning!"

I felt my blood pressure rise a little and I'm sure I blushed when I saw her blush. Visions of Saturday night played in my head and I felt a hard-on coming up. But to business.

"Cowboy, you got coffee coming? Food?"

"Coffee's on the way, Norma and we could order but I'm really not very hungry."

"Fine with me, Cowboy. Coffee's good and we can order later if we want."

The waitress brought two cups of coffee and menus. Norma told her to hold off. Coffee is O.K. for now and we may order later. I had in mind to give her a nice tip if we took a lot of time and didn't order food. I was a waiter once so I know how wait staff thinks.

Norma started off, "So, Cowboy...maybe I should call you Bowen for this...I have been thinking a lot about our Saturday escapade and I'm shocked myself at what a great time that was. There's really quite a lot of you beneath the surface, and that only added to the fun," and in a hushed voice she added, "and, at the risk of being less than ladylike, what was hidden in your pants was way more than I expected, too."

I out-and-out blushed at that and she did as well. And I breathed a silent sigh of relief because I was half expecting a, "I had fun but let's just call it a one-off date." Plus, Norma's smile was beaming with a lot of energy behind it. Well, "Safe at First," I thought.

"But, seriously," she continued, the words tumbling out, "I have to tell you that this is all hit like a lightning bolt, and we're pretty familiar with lightning bolts around these parts here. Bang! They light up the sky and the thunder knocks you over. I kind of have that feeling. Maybe I shouldn't be so open about this to you but I don't want play games. I feel funny about letting this out, but I think you know you're not my first lover. I haven't felt this way about any of the others--not like there were scads of them, but a few, anyway. I just want you know how I feel, how I really feel. But, I have to ask you....how do YOU feel?"

"Norma, this is a real surprise to me...a pleasant one but a surprise, nevertheless. I had a terrific time Saturday with you and...I'm not exaggerating when I tell you...I can't remember having more fun on a date...on all counts. And maybe I shouldn't be so frank, but I've hardly thought of much else either since Saturday," and I myself whispered in her ear, "and at the risk of sacrificing my 'macho' you make me weak in the knees!"

We sat there for a moment basking in the good feelings. Neither of us wanted to break the spell.

Norma spoke first, "So, Cowboy, is it fair to say that we are on our way to becoming 'an item', as they say in the society columns?"

"Well, it is sudden and quick, Norma," as I nodded in agreement, "But I'm willing to call it that if you are."

Norma leaned over and gave me another kiss on the cheek, "All right, Cowboy, agreed! I don't want to pour any cold water on things but, realistically, I think we have some pick and shovel work to do on the basics. And I also think we should take it slow in some areas. Don't look so sad!"

Those two tag lines dampened my enthusiasm somewhat but this was Norma as I came to learn: She is a planner doesn't ignore detail and practicality. I cite her plan to get us together on our first date. If Norma wants something, she usually gets it! Need I say anymore?

"So, here's the plan," Norma ticked the steps off on her fingers, "at first, we should see each other two or maybe three times a week..maybe for a month or so...that way we can get to know each other better. I mean we can call each other every day, too. I fully expect that we will be having sex...as a matter of fact, I insist on it...but we need to be discreet. I don't think we should do it at your place. It is too easy to get people talking, especially...and I know enough about myself to admit it...when the sound of our love making might hit jet engine decibel levels. I know a few people out of town who will let us use their places and they won't leak a word of it. At worst, I can borrow my brother's tricked out van, throw a mattress in the back and make love in at a camping spot.

"O.K., then, at some point I will need to introduce you to my family. My dad's cool...you'll like him...brother #1 is at home so you'll meet pretty soon...brother #2 is away at college but you'll meet him soon enough, the Holidays aren't all that far away. I don't want to plan a lot further that that. But those are things that I think will help us get our feet on the ground as a couple. What do you think?"

My head was spinning. All of that seemed like a tall order, especially since we were just starting up dating. I had more of an idea of letting our relationship grow organically, so to speak. The planning seemed like a lot. But I knew I wanted to be with Norma and so I figured that we could start up as she outlined and, though it sounds clinical, monitor our progress.