Warrior Churchmouse (formerly known as Zen Dixie)
  • Home
  • The Front Page Blog
  • INDEX
  • The Devil's Radio

Real Texas Manhood

My best friend from junior high, T-Rex, lost her brother late last week. Matthew, the youngest of her three older brothers had eleven years on her.  She used to be able to cite the age difference down to the minute.  After we started losing friends due to death or worse, she lost her enthusiasm for keeping count. According to her, it was her prerogative as a rainbow baby (a term that often called Mama Rex to emit unladylike snorts) to count the age differences however she wanted to. 

Matthew was the sweet, funny sibling.  I just now remembered one time when T-Rex wistfully mentioned she would have loved a sister, especially a twin sister, and Matthew shook his head and said she would have eaten her in the womb.  

Matthew was that sort of large, pale, conservative Christian male who held tight to his own beliefs unless they proved to be regressive and hurtful to the people in his life. He was also kind in the gentlemanly sort of way we don't often see anymore. 

When T-Rex and I were in seventh(?) eighth(?) grade, it was brought to my attention that the State of Texas was not going to let me marry my horse. I would have to settle for a boy.  It was that weekend, when I noticed Matthew, home from Texas Aynem and letting everyone get an eyeful of his Cadet uniform.  My goodness, he was dreamy. (Shut up, T-Rex!)

It was probably irritating to have his little sister's dumpster fire of a middle schooler following him around like a lost puppy, but I never got the impression he minded.  It was also nearly fifty years after my heart strayed like a tween Jezebel and I sent a valentine to a boy in T-Rex's home room that I learned the extent to Matthew's goodness as person. 

The boy in question (whose name I don't remember and frankly, couldn't even tell you what he looked like) responded to getting a card from me by throwing a tantrum, yelling that ugly girls should not be allowed to go to school on Valentine's Day, and tearing up the card and throwing it in the trash.  After that, he and most of class plotted revenge.  The teacher put an end to the talk, said she had better not hear a word about the card, and if she did, the whole class would suffer consequences that would put the fear of God into them for the rest of their lives.

Once again, I didn't hear a thing about this for fifty years, so some grace needs to be given. 

That afternoon, we were in band class, where T-Rex happened to play the same instrument as Lover Boy.  He said something smart to her about the Valentine and she did was T-Rex does when you mess with her friends.  She beat the living daylights out of him.  The ensuing meeting in the principal's office ended up with the principal, their homeroom teacher, and T-Rex agreeing that he had that whipping coming.  He got detention and T-Rex's parents were going to get a phone call that night. 

Afternoon pickup was agonizing for my girl.  She wouldn't tell me what happened other than her parents were going to give her away if she got into one more fight and she'd had that one more fight.  She was a dead woman walking. Matthew was home that weekend and pulled up to get her first, endured my worshipful looks, and then pulled away. 

T-Rex said that she burst into tears and told him everything.  He slowed his truck, pulled into the service road at the corner of the school lot, and said, "Point him out to me."  Later that night, he advocated for his sister on the grounds that loyalty is always a good thing.  

T-Rex made it clear Matthew was going to give him a talking to about how to treat girls and explain that in the not-too-distant future, he might be wishing someone thought enough of him to send a Valentine.  What T-Rex knows is Lover Boy was punished for getting in trouble and for getting whipped by a little girl. 

Over the years, I would sometimes chat briefly with Matthew when he dropped  by while T-Rex and I were on the phone.  The last time I talked to him was a year or so ago. I was getting the idea that maybe I was supposed to go into the ministry. We both dreaded telling Matthew. 

He sighed and then went quiet. I started to speak and he stopped me.

"You know my feelings about this.  Still, if that's what the Lord means for you to do, I know you'll be good at it."

T-Rex told me about some of the events that followed.  How his wife felt she wasn't meant to care for someone who couldn't be everything he was when they first got married.  She shared how his illness created a person-shaped hole in their lives. One thing she didn't tell me until recently was what he said shen he handed her the receiver after that last talk. 

"That's the one who got away."





Copyright 2007 - 2026
Legal stuff to make you very sleepy (binaural beats not included.)

All original content on this blog is the property of the blog owner and protected by U.S. and international copyright laws and cannot be stored on any retrieval system, reproduced, reposted, displayed, modified or transmitted in any form, electronic or otherwise without written permission of the copyright owner except as noted below. A brief excerpt of content may be quoted as long as a link is provided back to the source page on this blog and this blog owner is noted as author or source. DISCLAIMER This is a personal website for the owner of Zen Dixie. The content within it is intended for personal use. The views and opinions within this blog represent the owner. It does not represent the opinions and views of other people, institutions, or organizations the owner may be affiliated with individually or as a group unless stated explicitly.

And furthermore...
Zen Dixie is a sole proprietorship owned and operated by Jas Faulkner. Any attempts to conduct business or procure money, credentials and other perks, or publish using this name by anyone other than the owner of this site, domain, and trademark will be dealt with swiftly and to the full extent that legal intervention allows.

Unless otherwise stated, the material published within this website and/or linked to this website is copyright of Zen Dixie and/or Jas Faulkner. No part may be reproduced in whole or in part without the specific written permission of Jas Faulkner (sole proprietor of Zen Dixie) first hand and obtained.