Back in the mid-1960s, my mother Thelma inspired Mr. Hadley Scott of De Leon to provide her transportation to the bonsai thickets of Ector County—Odessa to be precise. She longed to visit her son Little Benny Wayne who resided in that metropolis. Hadley had little choice in the matter, since Thelma had provided room and board at regular intervals for Hadley when he and Little Benny Wayne studied for the penitentiary, and convened at her feed trough for boys who were misspending their lives when the De Leon Finishing School took summer recess.

Two-thirds of Thelma’s sons were living in Odessa/Midland at that time, and both were gainfully employed. I worked for the light company, and so too did Little Benny Wayne, and she longed to see them and her first granddaughter—who was mine and Margaret’s first daughter.

Little Benny Wayne and a cousin, Troy Edward Holt, shared an apartment on the south side of Midland and Hadley opted to spend his time over at their diggings. It was not located in the poshest part of the city and a typical bachelor’s mess hall. Actually, it was more than that. It was a bachelor’s mess all over the apartment, since neither of those lads was stricken by a neatness compulsion, but Hadley found no fault with their decor.

During that day and time “swamp”, or evaporative, coolers were the normal coolant for the Sand Trap of West Texas. Water was conducted through straw filters during the daylight hours when even the Russian thistles gasped and wilted as the mercury scrooched upwards to the unbearable degree.

Come sundown though, the night lowered the temperature like the ardor of a spurned suitor, so the water distribution system was turned off and a blanket was a comfort before daylight.

Welsir, when Hadley recounted this incident unto me he failed to tell me what those three did before retiring for the night, and I’d like to believe that they did not venture out north of town to the dens of iniquity that bloom just across the borrow ditches of the Andrews Highway, and I’m comforted by not knowing.

When they returned to the rental pad a spirited discussion between Little Benny Wayne and Troy Edward ensued concerning the shutdown of the water source of the swamp cooler. They took turns adjusting the aqua supply by reversing the setting before turning in for the night. Little Benny Wayne and Troy Edward eventually retired to their own little beds and Hadley shucked down and was granted custody of the couch.

All three slept the sleep that refreshes and Hadley woke first when the sun made its appearance above the skyline of Magnificent Midland. He sat up and to his chagrin plopped his feet into ankle deep water. He cried out at the unusual sensation, and his hosts awoke to his lamentations.

Luckily, Hadley’s clothing was spared by the fact that he had placed it along the top of the couch back, and his shoes were setting on the coffee table.

Little Benny Wayne and Troy Edward had not been nigh as fastidious. They hung their clothing on the floor. They were still discussing who was at fault when Hadley managed to don his duds and wade to the out-of-doors with his shoes in his hand.

He reported in at 314 San Jacinto and breakfasted with Margaret, Thelma, Tracy, and me. Then—they struck out for home port in De Leon.

“Hadley, your clothes smell like you spent the night in a swamp,” Thelma said.

Let me hear from you.

My phone number is 254-893-5063.

My postal address is 333 W. Ayers, De Leon TX 76444.

You can e-mail me at Charles@CharlesChupp.com.

By Charles Chupp, Copyright ©2008 Charles Chupp