Zeb Weller has been living in the attic of my imagination since I was in junior high. Six-foot-one, blue-eyed, skinny with long arms and legs like a gangly teen, and wearing the characteristic black moustache that dominates the lower half of his face. Only after I invented him did I see Baxter Black for the first time. The resemblance was so strong that I almost re-imagined Zeb. But Zeb has blue eyes. Baxter's are very brown. So I figured it would be okay to leave Zeb the way he was.
Fast forward thirty years.
After years of listening to Zeb stories during long drives hauling cattle to and from summer pasture, my kids were well-acquainted with Zeb's physical appearance. Shortly after our local salebarn changed hands, the kids and I loaded up a few cull cows to drop off. As we were leaving, someone spoke from behind us. His words led me to deduce it was the new salebarn owner. But when I turned around, I did a double take.
It was Zeb!
Several thoughts flitted through my head. "Oh my goodness! He came to life!" "He's real!" "Poor guy! Does he know what's in store for him?"
Alas, it wasn't really Zeb. Again, the brown eyes gave him away. We stood and chatted for a few minutes before the kids and I got back in the pickup. My eldest was about nine or ten at the time. As soon as the doors latched, he asked, "Mama, did that guy remind you of Zeb?"
I let out a guffaw. "Sure did!"
Kyle Zimmerman, proprietor of the WaKeeney Livestock Commission, has since let his whole beard fill in. He could readily be mistaken for a grizzly bear. For Kyle, the difference between a moustache and a full beard is about thirty minutes. It would require several hours with a bush hog to find a face under all that whisker.
A couple months after I saw Kyle for the first time, I saw him twice. He has a twin brother Lyle. Lyle looks a lot like Zeb, too.