Chapter 13

Lou

Marshal Hunter tells me to find him in his office in an hour because he first needs to see to a few things. Having Lightning back quenches my melancholy a bit, and in the hour before I'm to meet the marshal, I pass the time riding my beautiful mare. I set off at a light canter, but in the prairie I spur her faster and faster, and we are soon almost flying against the wind. I've never had the chance to ride her like this before as there are no open spaces where I live. Galloping freely and without restrictions feels so amazing, and despite my problems and the torturous notion of Pa in prison, I surprise myself when I find a smile on my lips.

I could spend the rest of the day riding like this, but I can't push Lightning too hard, and Marshal Hunter is waiting for me. True to his word, he is in his office when I turn up. His deputy, the one who called me a half-wit, is there too, and I don't bother to even greet him. Thankfully, the marshal is ready to leave and simply asks him to hold the fort while he's out.

"Let's walk to the station. It's actually at a stone's throw."

I untie Lightning from the post I previously tethered her to, and steer her behind us by the reins as we walked down Rock Creek's main street. The marshal greets every single soul he comes across, which I believe is logical since he's a relevant person in the city. He's the law, and everybody must sure know and respect him.

"Marshal Hunter…"

"Teaspoon."

"I beg your pardon?" I let out clumsily.

"Call me Teaspoon. That's what most folks around here call me."

"Why?" I ask, curious to know the story behind the peculiar nickname.

"It's a long tale we have no time for today. I might tell ya one day." He pauses and adds, "So what were you sayin'?"

"Uh… Marsh… uh… Teaspoon, how big is your farm? I mean, I ain't afraid of hard work, and I'm tough, but ours is just a small plot, and I wonder how different it will be at your place."

The marshal stares at me with a frowning expression. "It ain't my farm, boy. It's a Pony Express station like I told ya."

I thought that when he mentioned the station, he was referring to the name of his farm. Naturally, I don't mention any of this, but something draws my instant curiosity. "Pony Express?" I echo, unsure what he means by that strange name.

Teaspoon smiles patronizingly as he realizes my ignorance. "The Pony Express is the company I work for. Apart from being the marshal in Rock Creek, I'm the master running the way station here. The five riders that are housed there transport the mail here in the west… a route between St. Joseph, Missouri and Sacramento, California."

"You mean like some kind of emissaries?" I ask as I recall the name message bearers are given in some of the stories in my lost books.

The marshal gives me a crooked, amused smile as he says, "Yes… more or less."

"So those are the boys you told me about… the ones I remind you of?" I ask again, but refrain from saying that I thought he'd been talking about his sons.

"That's right."

Teaspoon points at a group of buildings we're approaching and he announces that they belong to the station. From the close distance I make out a corral in which a few horses quietly stand, and a big structure which I imagine to be the stables or maybe the barn rises close by. I can also see a white-washed house, surrounded by a picket fence, and a few feet from the dainty house there is a single-story building with an ample porch where I guess the riders live.

Teaspoon guides me to the stables, and I leave Lightning outside. The size is impressive and striking compared to our modest one at home. I guess this place must be similar to the local stables in town where Pa left my mare, but I was so upset and angry before that I didn't pay much attention to my surroundings. "Your responsibilities include muckin' out stalls, fillin' the troughs and feeders, and helpin' keep the tack and saddles in good condition among other things," Teaspoon explains. "My riders are also expected to do some of these chores when they're at the station, so don't worry if it sounds like too much because you won't have to do everythin' on your own. Normally every rider looks after his own horse, and pitch in to see to the extra ones in turns. Naturally, it's also your job to help in the care of the animals."

I nod. "I understand that."

"Do you have any questions?"

"No, sir," I reply, shaking my head at the same time.

"Then let me show ya where you can sleep and leave your things," Teaspoon says, and at the far end of the corridor that the stalls form he opens a door and beckons me to go inside. The room I step into ain't bigger than the den Pa built in the forest. Yet, it's much more luminous as a window dominates the south wall and rushes of light stream in. The room has nothing much in it: a single bed, a washbowl and jug on a simple stand, a small coal range and a chest where I imagine I can store my personal objects. The place ain't a palace, but it's clean and even cozy.

"I used to bunk here, well, not exactly here, but the one we had at the other station in Sweetwater, but since I have responsibilities in town, I have my lodgings there," he explains, and pauses for one second. "You'll find a pump outside you can get water from, and you can help yourself to the coal supply we store in the barn. And when you want to take a bath, there's a wooden tub in the den." He pauses again, and adds, "I know that compared to having a whole cabin for you alone, this room is a poor replacement."

"I think it's quite satisfactory indeed. I don't need much."

Teaspoon eyes me with a glint of amusement. "You like your big words, don't ya?"

Before I can answer in some fashion, he carries on, "Anyway, the riders live in the bunkhouse across the yard where you'll take your meals with the rest of us. You might think you could have a place there as well, but I like the idea of havin' someone sleepin' here for safe keepin'. We had a problem with rustlers recently, and the alarm came too late when they'd stolen a bunch of our horses already."

"I'm sorry."

"No need. We got them back eventually," he replies. "In any case, believe me when I say I'm doin' you a favor for lettin' you stay here. Livin' in the bunkhouse with those raucous boys ain't nothin' to long for, and in this little room, although small, you won't have to share your space with anybody."

I like that, I muse. I'd feel uncomfortable if I had to sleep surrounded by strangers. I'm used to having my own bedroom, and the notion of stripping down every night in front of other people makes me uneasy. Pa's firm set of rules about dressing and undressing must have rubbed off on me, and I do believe there are some things that should be done in private.

A repetitive metallic clank like the one from a bell drifts into the room, and Teaspoon says, "You hear that? That's the most beautiful sound in the world. It means dinner awaits us."

He licks his lips and closes his eyes in eager delight. His expression is so comical that I can't help the chuckle spontaneously surfacing. Teaspoon opens one eye and squints at me with curiosity. "Oh so you know how to laugh too?"

That comments sobers my mirth at once. I've had little reason to smile, let alone to laugh, in the last few hours. So even though I don't like it, it's not surprising my new boss has made that comment.

"Come on, Lou. Let's have some dinner before those boys gorge it all. And naturally you still need to meet 'em."

I follow Teaspoon out of the stables, and we keep silent as we cross the yard in the direction of the building he calls the bunkhouse. When we climb onto the porch, a voice wafts out of an open window, loud and clear. "Teaspoon's hired that man's son? I can't believe he'd do something so daft." There are some dissenting murmurs, and the same voice continues, "Don't get me wrong, fellas. I've got nothing against a boy who ain't right in his head, but we already have too much work as it is without having to play nanny to a poor waif."

I stiffen when I realize that it's me that's the subject of this shameful put-down. What the hell is wrong with people? How can anybody judge me without even meeting me first? My perplexed, furious eyes turn to search for Teaspoon, but he's gone ahead and already opened the door. "Cody!" I hear him bellow in an impatient tone. "When on earth are you gonna learn to think before opening your big trap, for goodness' sake?"

I hold my breath and remain outside, not eager to take another step. I have no intention to mix with people that sound so hostile and unwelcoming. If I didn't owe Teaspoon the money, I'd even consider going back home, but I'm in debt with him. I have half a mind to turn on my heel and head for my new bedroom. I think I still have a few things in my saddlebags that would make do to entertain my hungry stomach tonight.

Just as I give the option serious thought, Teaspoon's voice resounds again. "As you all wanted, I've hired someone to help around the station. We don't need a new rider, but I got ya a stables boy. Come inside, Lou. Don't be shy."

I'm loath to go inside, but I muse that it wouldn't do me good to start off on the wrong foot. After all, as Teaspoon has told me, I'm supposed to work alongside his riders. Meeting them is unavoidable, and the sooner I get done with it, the better. So I lift my chin proudly and march inside. I'm suddenly overwhelmed by diffidence as I find myself the centre of attention of five pairs of eyes. I'm tongue-tied, looking around me when suddenly a familiar voice surprises me. "Oh Lou, what a nice surprise!"

I smile to see a friendly face when I recognize Mrs. Dunne. I wonder what she's doing here, but I have no chance to put the thought into words as she says, "I work and live at the station too. I'm the cook here as well as Rock Creek's teacher." She tosses a look at Teaspoon and explains, "Lou and I met in town. I'm afraid I was clumsy and ruffled some of his feathers."

"It was nothing, just a misunderstanding, Mrs. Dunne."

"And please call me Rachel," she replies and approaches me to give me a pat on the back.

I'm ashamed to admit that my curiosity in the outer world is troublesome and makes me behave improperly even if I'm not aware most of the time what kind of improper transgressions I might be committing. What I do in the bunkhouse next is an example. My eyes are suddenly drawn to Rachel's middle. She ain't wearing the jacket I previously saw her in, and her décolletage flashes an ample bosom. Pa told me once that women's chests, albeit similar to men's, are usually bulkier because they nurse their children when they're babies like animals do. I never noticed this when I befriended Esther because she was always wearing a coat or jacket whenever we met, but Rachel's torso is hard to miss.

I realize that I'm doing something wrong when Rachel folds her arms awkwardly, trying to cover the area my eyes are focused on, and I hear laughter around me as one of the men say, "Rachel, your charms never fail to have that strong impact on us men."

I blush, looking away, and Teaspoon impatiently mumbles a rebuke to the blonde man who made the remark. "Lou," he adds, "I'm afraid I have no other alternative but to introduce you to this bunch of brutes. These are Jimmy, Buck, Noah, Kid, and… Cody," he concludes, casting a warning look at the blonde rider, whose name I've already heard more than once.

I nod in acknowledgement and look at every young man the marshal points at in turns. Are these the boys I remind him of? I don't know how that's possible because at first glance I'm nothing like them. They're all tall, broad-shouldered and rough-looking, and in comparison I feel like a dwarf.

Cody is staring at me with unconcealed amusement. I'm already tired of being the butt of his malicious comments, and the fact that he's already judged me so lightly makes me have qualms about him. I stare back at him and snap, "What are you smirking at?"

He gives me a coy smile and says, "Ain't you a bit puny for this hard job?"

Before I have the chance to speak, Teaspoon steps in. "Don't judge a book by its cover, Cody. Lou here's stronger than you might think. A few days ago he killed and flayed a wolf and scared away another on his own," he explains, repeating the story I told him when I was so troubled by the idea of losing Lightning.

"I'm impressed," Cody replies in a tone that conveys he doesn't believe a word Teaspoon has said.

This man is a moron, I think annoyed, but I tell myself he ain't gonna drag me to anger. Even though I'd like nothing more than punch him in that stupid mouth of his, I do my best to get a grip of myself. I decide to ignore him and my eyes travel to the rest of the riders. The one called Jimmy looks at me with an indifferent expression and his face only changes into a scowl as Cody continues gabbing on. I'm glad to see that I ain't the only one to think Cody is insufferable.

Next to Jimmy is Buck. I can tell he's an Indian. His complexion and very dark hair is a give-away of his background even though he's wearing common clothes. Once when I was eight or so, Pa and I spotted a couple of Indians outside our property. They were dressed in buckskins and had a colorful assortment of pendants and strings of beads around their necks. Pa then hustled me inside, and we stayed cooped up there until he made sure the Indians were gone. Back then my father told me terrible stories about people being savagely murdered and farms being burned to the ground by parties f blood-thirsty Indians. I have no reason to think that my father's tales are anything but true. I admit that at the time they scared and gave me a few nightmares, but we never saw an Indian again, let alone suffer any problems.

Noah is like no man I ever thought I could encounter. His skin is smooth and as dark as a starless night. I know of the different races in the world, but I wrongly assumed people like Noah lived in far away lands and countries. Noah's skin has such a beautiful luster that I consider reaching out to touch it, which I don't do naturally. After my many blunders since I arrived in Rock Creek, I need to watch my steps and restrain myself from putting me in an uncomfortable position. Somehow I sense my touching Noah wouldn't sit well with him.

Despite all my missteps and some people's mean attitudes, I'm really fascinated by all the new experiences I'm living. Who could have thought that in a few hours I'll find myself settled in Rock Creek, with a proper paying job and making acquaintance with people of all kinds and even different races?

As the satisfactory thought fills my mind, I cast a perfunctory glimpse at the last rider, who Teaspoon called Kid. He's sporting a smile, and his fresh, open expression gives me good sensations. Not that I have any misgivings about the others, apart from Cody, naturally, but I don't know why, Kid somehow makes me feel at ease.

"Why don't we sit for dinner?" Rachel says as he carries a steaming pot to the table.

"Jesse late again?" Teaspoon asks, and Rachel just shrugs her shoulders in a gesture that I recognize as resignation.

From the corner of my eye I see Cody skillfully pushing Buck aside and sneaking into the bench, so that he's seated just opposite me. He clears his throat, directs his blue eyes to me, and says, "Lou, let me give you some advice to survive among us here. You'll thank me later." I can see Jimmy rolling his eyes and Buck chuckling. I glance at him cautiously, unsure what to expect from this young man that so far ain't in my favor.

"Number one," he starts, flashing his thumb aloft as apparently he intends to list a few things he considers I need to know. "Whatever you do, don't touch Noah's whip. Ever. He considers it more sacred than his own life." Noah glimpses at him indifferently, not bothering to support or protest against his friends words. "Number two, never tamper with Buck's pouch," he carries on, pointing with his thumb at the small leather bag hanging from the other rider's neck. "It's kind of magical. I didn't use to believe in that hogwash about spirits and their ire, but after a series of strange circumstances, I ain't sure if that's such bosh anymore."

A rumble of laughter ripple around the table. I remain stoically serious not understanding what he's saying about spirits and Buck's pouch, and I can't grasp either what is so funny about that. Cody ain't laughing and carries on, ignoring the others. "Third, no care is good enough for Katy, Kid's pinto mare. He just adores her. We all believe he doesn't have a girl because no woman can measure up to his dear Katy."

"Cody, I warn you. You're treading on dangerous ground." Kid's relaxed expression is gone, and his glare is an obvious reflection of his annoyance. I understand his logical irritation. It's nice to see somebody who cares about his horse just like I do, and Cody's mockery will miff anybody.

"Kid, Cody's right, expect in just one thing," Jimmy steps in, and for the first time his stern expression has softened, and his eyes shine in amusement. "You don't have a girl because you're just damn ugly."

"Look who's talking," Noah pipes up next. "Since when have you seen girls formed in line for you, Jimmy?"

The exchange of comments causes a new wave of laughter around the table. I'm the only one unable to join their mirth. Even Kid seems to have forgotten his irritation and is also chuckling. I feel awkward, like a fish out of water, as if they were speaking a different language. How can they laugh when they've been hurling insults at each other? I don't understand anything.

I realize that the continuous murmur of voices and laughter is giving me a headache. I guess I need to get used to being surrounded by sounds, voices and noise. The laughter dies down, and Cody's attention is once again focused on me. "And finally and most importantly, never ever mention Wild Bill Hickok around Jimmy."

I frown and ask, "Who is Wild Bill Hickok?"

Cody laughs and Teaspoon adds, "Son, with that answer you just got on Jimmy's good side."

I look at Jimmy, but his eyes are directed to the food in his plate. I wait for the answer to my question, but nobody makes an attempt to respond. They are all bowed over their plates and eating, so I follow suit. After a few welcoming moments of silence, Rachel speaks up, "Lou, why don't you tell us something about you?"

I wash down the bite of meat in my mouth with a sip of water. "About me?" I echo, not used to being asked questions or talking about myself. Not even when Esther and I met did I have to say much. She was the one who did all the talking. "I… I don't know what to say."

"Teaspoon told me you live in the mountains," Rachel insists.

"Yes, my father and me," I reply, but my voice lowers a notch as I think of Pa and what he might be doing at this moment. "We have a cabin and some farming land."

"Have you been living there long?" Buck asks.

"Almost all my life. I was two when we moved there," I stop there because I don't want to reveal the reason why my father chose that very spot for us.

"Lou's a real mountain man," Teaspoon adds. "I'm sure he could teach you one thing or two about how to survive on just a few basic things and without the comforts you boys enjoy now."

"We hardly live on the lap of luxury, Teaspoon," Cody protests.

"And we work hard and dangerously," Jimmy agrees with his friend.

"Lou," Buck demands my attention, ignoring the two riders' comments, "how is life up there? Living all alone with just your father?"

I don't answer straightaway. I can't say I love it there because I've been too miserable lately. That's the truth, but I can't bring myself to speak ill of my home. Pa has done everything in his power to give me everything and make sure I didn't miss a single thing. Yet, I've missed my own freedom even though he never realized it. "It's nice and quiet," I say vaguely, avoiding answering his question.

"You could say that," Cody scoffs ironically. "And I bet pretty boring too."

I shrug my shoulders. I guess he's right, but I'm reluctant to admit it. "We have lots to do up there. We hardly have time to stop for a breather, except on Sundays, and even then there's chores to do too."

"I imagine you'll have visitors… friends from time to time," Noah adds.

"Uh… no, not really."

"But you and your father surely come to town occasionally," Kid says.

I shake my head. "We… there's no reason. We have everything we need up there."

I lower my eyes and cut another piece of the tender meat Rachel's cooked. It tastes divine, and I'm about to comment on the food when Cody speaks up, "Everything, Lou? What about the chicks?"

"The chicks?" I echo with a frown

"Cody…" Rachel lets out in a scolding tone.

I swallowed the bite in my mouth. Cody is still looking at me, expecting my answer, and I don't understand why he's so interested in knowing about that. "Well, there's a peddler who normally supplies us with them. He's like an in-between man and gets them here in town and brings them to us. I think Pa pays him extra for that."

I notice wary looks passing between the riders, and I ain't sure what I've said, but there's something wrong in my words. Even Rachel is staring at me as if I had committed the biggest sin. I clear my throat uncomfortably and try to speak again, "He… Al the peddler also got us our last cow a few months ago, but since Al wouldn't be passing through for another two weeks or so, that's why … why Pa came to Rock Creek when the wolves killed the… the chicks and our cows."

As I finish, a deadly silence reigns in the bunkhouse, and suddenly, everybody bursts out laughing loudly. Laughter thunders around me and I look around me and I notice that even Rachel and Teaspoon are in stitches. I feel my cheeks crimson furiously and lower my face. I don't understand. I don't understand why they're all laughing at me. What on earth have I said? Is it my voice or my way of speaking? Talking about chicks is hardly funny. I regretfully realize that my first day in Rock Creek is not going as I always envisioned it would. People seem so alien and strange to me, and I hope things change or I get used to their singularities because otherwise, it's not gonna be tough… very tough.