Marlon Brando, Pocahontas, and Me - Part Seven
Avon appointments + cowboys + (??) Scientology = one disappointed rodeo roper
Please read Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four,Part Five, Part Six!
Leo met my eyes, didn't waiver, as he waiting for my response. I hesitated, knew I was running late for my mystery Avon swap. I opened my mouth then closed it. I cleared my throat. I glanced at my watch.
"Princess, I'm not trying to kidnap you. If you want to see the Scientologist compound, this is really the only way." He smiled, ran his hand along the brim of his hat as if circling his head concentrated his intention, made it stronger, more able to withstand the wind whipping around us. The horse stomped one foot. Leo pointed to the trailer.
"Avon Princess, even Helena demands an answer!" The horse lifted her head in recognition. She seemed to agree with her owner, seemed to implore me to say Yes.
"I want to! I really do! I want to see the mesa. I can't right now, though. Not because of you! Because I'm already late." I cursed my throat, wished it would grant me better words, a smoother delivery, all the time in the world, a million dollars, anything, everything I wasn't and didn't have in that moment.
"So Princess is a responsible Avon Lady. That customer must really have a bug problem." Leo laughed, threw both hands in the air.
"Not really." I rolled my eyes and began ticking off a litany of my worst traits. "I can't remember anything, I get orders mixed up, I forget people, I give things away, if my customers don't have enough money I tell them it's OK. I've had a million things happen this past year. I can't keep track of the most basic things. I'm the world's worst Avon Lady. Seriously. But I'm trying so hard to be better this year! I promised myself I would get organized in 2006..." my voice trailed off. I felt old, defeated, too stuck in some kind of mind-time-rock-warp. I wanted to vaporize my customer, trail Leo up the mesa, take photos of strange celebrity money madness in the canyon. I wanted to pat the neck of a new horse, run my fingers through his mane. I wanted to hear stories about miniature particles and roping steer.
"Ok, Princess, here's what we're gonna do." Leo pulled a green canvas wallet from his back pocket and opened it. He pulled out a simple business card and handed it to me. His last name was long, elegant, the name of a conquistador from four hundred years past. Under his name swirled a lariat, a telephone number and three words: Cowboy for Hire.
"You're going to deliver your goodies, and you're going to drive home. You are not going to hit any cows. And when you get home, you will call the number on the card. We'll see the mesa when you have time. And wear your hair like that again. It's beautiful."
I left Leo with one of my Avon brochures and two skin care samples. He waved goodbye, his hair and his horse's mane both flowing with the wind, pointing the direction I should travel. I rounded the corner, wondered if I would take Leo's adventurous offer, dipped into the canyon, and skidded to a stop at the dirt road labeled "Post Office."
To Be Continued....
10:37:18 AM 
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