With school being out I hung out more at the café till Christmas Eve. Frankly I would had rather not been home.  We were getting known and despite the fact it was some what out of the way for those in Leakey we got a steady stream of customers. Donna and I worked well together and had formed a steady easy rhythm that took care of the customers and did not wear us out. December 24 I shut the place down for a 2-day hiatus. Donna Goode had no place to go. I told her that she could cook relax. I brought a TV and Satellite Dish for her to use as well. I felt bad for her. I had and uncle and two aunts that I was close to she had no one her holidays were really rough on her. She was sad when I rolled in on the 26th

I told her my time was. I enjoyed my aunts and eating tamales drinking eggnog but at the house. You can be all alone in the proximity of people. My sister was planning along with my mom and I was just a sack of potatoes. Donna was all alone at the cafe. We had a short shot of smooth steady business from the 26 to New Years eve.

New Years eve came and went without fan fare at the Café. Donna and I stood guard at 9 o'clock we stayed up till mid-night We fired off a couple black cats and bottle rockets that punctured the cold still of the Hillcountry night like a sledge hammer. 1994 the year that saw Kurt Cobain's demise ended and 1995 entered with a tad bit more decadence. After the fire works I went to my car as was my habit and got good nights rest. I had gotten used to it I missed sharing the café with a guy. We had just bunked and chatted the night away.

January 3rd came and with it a huge clash of warm moist air from the Gulf of Mexico that combined with moisture from the Pacific and the Sea of Cortez collided with a cold front. I had long since done some decoration on the café with poetry stashed under Plexiglas covers and counter tops. One of them was a poem written before the idea of the Café was born.

Your world is fading fast

You noble dream is gone awry

Its cost is much too high

We weep and mourn

Bitter seed has come to reap

Ride Cowboy ride

Take old Rattles to West Texas sky

Your eyes do not deserve to see

What those who claim to be your descendants

What you hold dear they themselves mock

You would admit they are totally lost

Ride Cowboy Ride

Take old Rattles to a West Texas sky

Your character noble your heart big

Your vision clear your dreams pure

Yet the winds of change have gusted

The world that you lived

Now a haunting memory

Ride Cowboy Ride

Take Old Rattles to a West Texas Sky

His balding gray hair stuffed under a cap. I recognized along with his slim build. I recognized him. Highway 83 was beginning to get ice on it and he knew this was his last chance for shelter. I put on a pot of coffee. He walked up to the counter he glanced down and read the poem. His voice was dull and beaten as he simply looked at me and said,"You were right. " The voice was an admission a heartbreaking one that he had finally seen the darkness of a dream gone badly. We started talking I got him telling stories. Donna listened to stories I knew by heart. She listened in and found a small town she never knew about. She was starting to realize why I acted the way I did. He noticed Donna and I a peace emerged on his face as he talked and told stories. Donna saw the vision I had. She saw New Braunfels pro union against secession and proud of it pro community and New Braunfels on the poor level colorblind. The conversation drifted to how she got to the café. Word got to what happened at Denton. He looked at me with a stern face and told me you and I are guilty of the same crime. I do not hold it against you as you don't hold my blindness against me. You built what I could not have imagined. I responded in regards to Fry St "I have seen what I hope you never see". The sleet fell on the roof and the road was iced over. The wind gusted from the north. I cooked up some food for dinner and we sat there talking in the warmth of the café. We heard a 18-wheeler slosh in. He knocked and as I opened a huge hulking man he made the comment how he had just hit a sheet of ice.

The land had revealed its rugged nature. The force to cooperate was now a matter of survival for all at the café. At nine I had to go out to knock off ice insuring power to the cafés lights. I also had to check the gas heat. The wind was howling and I ducked in the wet slick cold air dropping well below freezing. I also went to get some more oak for the wood firebox barbecue. I came in through the back door vestibule and shook off the cold. We all turned in after that. The café had become a shelter.

That night Bill I and Donna talked. We had a common past that had shaped us. Bill listened to what Denton became. Donna was healing New Braunfels to me was some element of the past never reconciled to the present or thought of in the future. I once was from the town and it was a part of me. I was clueless how to deal with it. Yet Bill lightened a bit is face less dour. He simply said as of tonight one of them is off my loss list.

The following morning the sky was clear the air was dry. As the sun heated the ground the ice just vaporized. Bill and Mr. Zeganidas both pulled off the parking lot. I walked back into the café and found 50 dollars cash stashed in assorted places. With the cold weather emergency I took no cash but the two would not take no for an answer. I drove in for winter term.