Standing in the Rainbow - Fannie Flagg [96]
And as if Bobby’s having become the Bubble Gum King and the news of Anna Lee’s engagement were not enough good news for one year, something else wonderful was about to happen. On a beautiful Sunday morning, one week after Bobby was to enter the seventh grade, Old Man Henderson went out in his yard with his pair of World War I binoculars. He had spotted something odd a few minutes before.
When he focused them he mumbled to himself, “Some gol-darned fool has gone and tied red balloons all over the top of the water tower.”
THE FIFTIES
Cowboy Bob
THE NEXT TIME Mr. Charlie Fowler, the poultry inspector, came to town, he was surprised to see that “young Robert” had grown almost five inches and his voice was already starting to change. If he kept growing at that rate, they said, he might get to be taller than his father by next year. Two weeks after Bobby’s fifteenth birthday, the letter he had been waiting for from the national office of the Boy Scouts of America in Irving, Texas, arrived. He ripped it open and was elated to read:
Dear Robert,
Congratulations! You are an Eagle Scout. With the completion of the requirements you have mastered many skills and made the Scout Oath and Law a part of your life. Our prayers are with you and your future successes.
Sincerely,
Bruce Thompson
Chief Scout Executive
Both he and Monroe had made Eagle Scout, and the following summer they took the train all the way across the country to the big Boy Scout Jamboree in Santa Ynez, California. This would be the first time either of them had ever been out of Missouri and, for Monroe, his first trip out of Elmwood Springs. When they crossed into Oklahoma and Texas and into New Mexico and Arizona, they might as well have been on the moon. As they stared out the window at the western landscape they could not believe their eyes. It was hard to even imagine it was all real. They were both in awe of the vast landscape that stretched as far as they could see. Neither one had any idea how big the country was. All Monroe could say as they passed by the Painted Desert, Indian reservations, herds of buffalo, and saw their first western sunset, was “Whoa!” He repeated the word a lot all the way to California and also when he first saw the huge Alisal Ranch, where the Boy Scouts were staying. It was a real working ranch and they met a genuine bowlegged cowboy, who showed them where they would be sleeping. In a real bunkhouse, as it turned out. That night, after they’d walked back from the first Boy Scout ceremony, the dark blue sky was spangled with stars so close you could almost touch them. And they had thought the stars in Elmwood Springs were bright. Even though it was summer, the night was cold and Jake, the hired hand, made a fire in the big stone fireplace. What a day. They had met boys from all over the world who had also never seen a ranch before but none was more impressed than Bobby.
Later, when everyone else went to bed, he was too excited to sleep. He lay there watching the reflections of the orange and black flames dancing on the ceiling and listened to the sound of coyotes from a distant hill and he felt as if he had just stepped into a Zane Grey novel. As he fought to stay awake his mind began to wander . . . and dream.
The boy’s father walked into his room with a letter in his hand and a solemn look on his face.
“Son, we never told you this before today . . . but