Best Medicine: Part One
Alias Smith & Jones Story: Childhood, the day it all comes to an end.
I wrote this story probably 25 years ago. I got it out and brushed it up with some help from a pal. It doesn't really match the flow of my current writing. However, I have carried it around with me for so many years, I thought, I might finally be brave enough to share it. Hope y'all enjoy it. - Wichita Red
Arching my back, it pops loosening some of the kinks taking up residence along my spine. Heaving a sigh, I look to the sun dipping in the sky and I know I had better get a move on because we're running low on light. Heaving even longer sigh as I bend to snatch my hat from where I tossed it on the ground, I feel Pa's hand on my head, his strong fingers tousling my damp hair.
"Yer 'av done me proud today, Hannibal."
Hearing this, I can't help but swell up. His words giving me the boost I need to get going again. It's been the beatingest of days, first time I've ever been allowed to work alongside Pa and Uncle Fred'rick, doing man's labor. At dawn we'd set out to butcher our family's earmark into the spring crop of calves. Tarnation, but it's been messy, bloody, tiring work still I wouldn't trade it for anything. 'Specially not for Jed's job of cutting calves away from their Mama's. That's boy's work. Shoving my hat on, I toss Pa a smile as I head toward the corral to take on the calf Uncle Fred'rick's pulled for me.
When I hear something, 'What was that?!' Sliding to a halt, I see horses flowing down the western slope like bugs from under a rock. Except with the sun in my eyes, I can't make out who they are. "Riders approaching." I holler, rotating my eyes from the weaving silhouettes to Pa's face. I want to gauge his reaction. His black eyes are squinted up and I know he is calculating.
"Hannibal." He calls in a thick whisper, his eyes remaining on the men.
Running to him, he pulls me close, so close; I can see only one long shadow stretching away from us. As he herds me toward Uncle Fred'rick and our corral of bawling cattle, I can feel his heart pounding like the blows of a blacksmith's hammer, 'Pa's always cautious of strangers . . .' I try to look back and can't he's moving me too fast . . . 'but not like this.'
"I want yer to climb into dat corral an' set backs behind de rocks wi' Jedediah. Yer stay silent 'till we cum for yer."
"But Pa. . ." He shoves away, hard and I stumble. Catching myself, I look up into his stony face trying to swallow the dry hard lump expanding in my throat.
"Go on nigh. Do as I say."
Uncle Fred'rick pats my shoulder as I dive between the rails sending the cattle scattering and recalling Pa's caution, I skulk through the herd like a coyote rather than whistling and talking my way through as I normally would.
"Oi Hannibal."
Looking back, Pa winks playing out a grin, it's the same crooked grin that makes Ma say ~ Irish do not attempt tricking me with that rascal smile of yours. Before I can smile back, he is running to catch up to Uncle Fred'rick who has already stridden off toward the strangers. Watching them, I grow – all-overish – no other way to express it.
Hunkering down alongside Jed as I was told, I hold tight to his hand, keeping him close. I want to ask him what he thinks but he is two years younger and I don't want to upset him so I just stare at the grass peeking up around the toes of my boots. When he pokes me, I look into his blue eyes and I can see his mouth forming words but all I can hear is gunfire. At the sound of it, my blood turns cold and I know better yet still I can't stop myself or for that matter Jed from scrambling around the rocks. We make it in time to see our Pa's collapse. The men on horseback are circling them, still shooting them and as I stare, I find the way, their bodies jerk, and buck in the green grass horrify me. Hearing Jed sob, "No!" brings me back. I swing to look at him so fast my neck pops. 'I'm the oldest – I gotta protect him.'
Snaking a hand over his mouth, I hurl us back behind the rocks. Lying there, I can taste dirt in my mouth and hear the pounding of my blood. Jed is hollering beneath my hand, kicking and wrestling to be free, "Hssst, do you want to bring'em straight to us?" My words scare him and he freezes. I see his blue eyes grow larger as the tale-tale crunching of dirt under hooves draws near. We both believe we will be found when hear instead the cattle being herded from the corral. 'Rustlers? That doesn't make sense.'
The sharp crack of a gun causes Jed to jump, almost escaping my hold and I hold him tighter. All the while, I can't stop thinking of our Pa's. I want to rage. To scream, better yet to grab my Pa's big fifty out of our rigging and kill every one of them. Just let go with a regular conniption fit. But, I know if I do anything . . . anything at all, they'll shoot me too. I must protect Jed and I don't want to die, so I tell myself over and over, 'stay still, – stay in control.'
'How long have we been pinned to the back of these rocks?' Too long my aching body tells me. Dark quiet is all around us and Jed is squirming again. We can't stay hidden forever, motioning him to stay; I slowly stand to peer around the rocks.
No sign of the men . . . Rustlers . . . Murders . . . whoever they were I don't see them. They must be gone. Setting store by this fact, I step out and all that is left is three still humps on the dark prairie. I nearly jump out of my skin, when Jed takes my hand. His hand is as cold as a pump handle in January. But the thought of shaking him free never crosses my mind. Oddly enough, my eyes keep straying not to the bodies of our Fathers but to what I know to be Little Sis, Pa's favorite cattle pony. "That last shot we heard must have been to put Sis down." My whispered words sound incredibly loud in the silence.
"Poor Sis." Jed sobs, smudging a fist across his eye. "Uncle Daniel always boasted what a good horse she was."
I know his tears aren't for Sis just as mine aren't. Feeling alone I move to wrap him in my arms but he twists from me racing toward his Pa. I run to stop him and then fall to my knees. 'He needs to see for himself. So do I. But can I do it.' Even as I argue with myself, I have risen and my feet have taken me right to my Pa for I am staring down at him and thinking, 'It must hurt having your arm twisted back like that.' I know he can no longer feel pain still I move him, straightening his arm trying to make him more comfortable.
Sitting beside him, I spy a gleam in his palm. Leaning closer I see it's his watch. His silver pocket watch that he brought with him from Ireland. Pa said it belonged to his Da and one day it would be mine. Slipping it free, I clasp it to my chest. And sit.
Just sit. Sit for I don't know how long.
Until I'm cold.
Until we both are.
"Who'd of thought Ms. Tisdale was so nice?"
Jed has been at me non-stop ever since we have been dropped here at Ms. Tisdale's. I just don't feel up to talking.
"She was always so mean in school."
I can hear him moving. 'I hope he goes back inside.'
"Course she's nice to you. You like books."
Okay now he's sitting in front of me, staring at me. I close my eyes hoping he will become bored and go back inside. "Didn't I straight out tell him I wanted some time to think. Came out here, found this quiet spot in the cottonwoods to be alone and he comes out here chattering like a mockingbird.'
"And, she's a good cook."
'Please Jed give me some time alone.'
"Oh, and she smells good too."
'Please Jed leave me be.'
"Don't ya think she smells good, Hannibal?"
'He's gonna make me yell at him.' I pull my knees up tight to rest my chin on top of them trying to push away his words. 'Cause he's right. . . She does smell good. Like clean soap and sun-dried clothes and. . . . And she reminds me of home. And. . . Of Ma- Damn it I am too old to cry. Damn it Jed. . . Why did you make me do this?' There's no stopping the tears this time. Pushing my forehead against my knees so Jed can't see, I let them seep into my pants. I can feel my whole body shaking. . . I feel so . . . I'm not sure. Mad. I want to kill the men who did this to me. I'm sobbing so hard now I feel like I'm gonna explode. And, I ain't crying from grief. It's anger. Anger because I can't get my hands on those men. That's when I feel Jed slip an arm about my shoulders and his forehead settle against my neck. He ain't talking no more, just rocking in time with me and I can feel wetness trickling down my neck.
And this is how we stay. Until we cry ourselves, out. Until the whispering of the cottonwoods is louder than are breathing. Until the coolness of dusk seeps into our bones cooling us. Raising my head, I look about the darkening prairie and Jed moves back just enough to look into my eyes.
We don't say a word.
There is nothing to say. Nothing we don't already know.
That we're not splitting up.
Not for no reason. Not for no one. Not ever!
Stretching my kinked up legs, I climb to my feet offering him a hand and as he takes it, he looks at me with his blue eyes that remind me of my Ma and he says what I need most to hear. "We got each other and I won't ever leave ya."
I feel a smile break through my tear-dried face, the first since Pa congratulated. "Back at you Partner."