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Don't Shoot the Messenger

I thought I should get drunk, wanted to get very drunk and then visit a whorehouse. As far as Pauline's would be concerned, it was too early for business so I might be the only customer. I'd have my choice of women and might even take two; that would make me forget my problems. The irony was that my problems were caused by women, two of them to be exact. So, I struck out for the Sazerac to start my plans in action. On the sidewalk sat the fat old Bannock woman who was always there wearing the same blue skirt and fringed deerskin top, smiling and showing her shortened teeth, flattened by many years of chewing on hides to soften them. Now she sold strings of beads and shell, holding them up for viewing, nodding and smiling. I had never bought anything before or even gave her much thought, only dropped a few coins in her basket unless there was a way to avoid passing her. But that morning, I stopped. Never before had I wondered why she was there on the streets of Virginia City and not with her people. What had forced her to come to town every day and sit on an overturned crate and hope someone would buy one of the strands from her large, flat basket? I took the strand she held up. It was a string of turquoise nuggets interspersed with smoothed pieces of shell. She continued to smile, waiting and nodding at me.

"How much?" I asked. She smiled and nodded. "How much? Money. How much?" All I received was the smile, so I dug in my pocket. It couldn't have been worth more than two bits but I suddenly felt guilty; I had so much and she was out here shilling tawdry pieces of jewelry. Maybe the Bannocks relied on her and the money she brought back to the tribe. I didn't know and didn't really care but I handed her a silver dollar. I thought she would say something like, "Too much." But she didn't, just nodded and smiled and put the coin in the pouch hanging about her neck and resting on her full bosom and stomach. Then she held up another strand for me and anyone else to see, so I slid my purchase in my shirt pocket and walked past her into the saloon.

"What'll you have, Adam?" It was early and there were only a few men inside, mostly sitting alone as I planned to be, and one barmaid, a woman in her 40's by the name of Patty. She wasn't particularly pretty and she probably often wondered late at night when she couldn't sleep, that if she had been a beauty, would her husband have stayed around instead of abandoning her in Virginia City when his dreams of gold and the riches it would bring went south.

"It's a little early, but I'll have a beer." I waited while Frank, the barkeep, drew me one and then I took it to a table in the corner. I knew I wouldn't get drunk on a beer or two, only good whiskey could do that, and quite a bit of it, but nevertheless, I would enjoy the slight dulling of my senses before moving on to stronger stuff.

Over and over, the words, 'With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow." That was the expectation with a Christian wedding but what expectations were there with a Shoshone wedding? Was I also to worship Kopakashe with my body and allow her to show her devotion to me by laying herself wide open to me? Was I to protect her, see she was fed, dutifully take her at night and fill her with children? I didn't know what her expectations were, but I imagined no matter what, I had been a very bad husband. It was no wonder she had turned from me. Perhaps I could make amends. Perhaps, not but I had to try.

I wondered if the old Bannock woman spoke English or just pretended not to in avoidance of any confrontations with Indian haters. I toyed with going and asking her about Bannock marriages. Just what did the groom promise the bride and vice versa? But I had an even greater issue involved; I was supposed to be the savior of Kopakashe's people. She was given to me to seal some fantastical contract between the tribe and nature, between destruction and existence. All that resting on me. And Kopakashe.

I was only on my third beer and considering a hot bath, a shave and hair cut before heading to Pauline's, when Hoss walked into The Sazerac and spied me.

I raised my mug to him. "Sit down and have a beer…or three. This is my third."

He sat down and motioned to the barkeep. Patty quickly brought him one, smiling down at Hoss who handed her the money and a little something extra.

"Pa send you to find me?" I could just imagine my father, upset because I was gone and feeling helpless around Kopakashe.

"No, I come on my own; woulda been here earlier but I had to sign on some new hands the Bonners sent over, and put 'em up in the bunkhouse. You know they're goin' to California for a job?" I nodded. "Thanks to them, we got enough men to sweep for strays and for the round-up and branding an' all." He took a long swallow of beer. "I figgered you'd come to town since you had to see Darla but your horse's still tied up in front of the restaurant. You weren't inside so I started on the saloons and sure enough, here you are. Things go okay?"

"No, not really, I proved myself a goddamn cad and she left in tears. And, not only have I been a cad where Darla is concerned but with Kopakashe as well." I stared at my beer. "Thought I'd get a hot bath, a shave and hair cut before I took a little relaxation before I headed home."

"Yeah, well, Adam, I think you might just wanna pass on all that and get straight home." Hoss put down his mug and pursed his lips.

I should have noticed Hoss' edginess earlier and probably would have if I hadn't been so involved in my own misery. "Why? What's wrong?"

"Ain't nothin' wrong really, just…well, Adam, Kopakashe done gone."

"What do you mean, 'done gone'? Gone where?" My chest tightened as panic set in.

"She didn't say," Hoss answered. "Just packed up and left when you didn't come in for breakfast."

I stood up, shoving my chair back. Patty looked my way and so did the barkeep. I suppose I looked as if I might assault Hoss and they were probably wondering which one of them would mop me off the floor when Hoss was through with me. "And you didn't stop her?"

"Now what was I s'possed to do, Adam? Rope 'her and truss 'er like one of them calves for brandin? Ain't my fault she left. And I'll tell you somethin' else," Hoss said as if he was bragging, "I helped her leave. She was strugglin' with that little Appaloosa she got; it wouldn't stand still and them poles for makin' a travois was heavy and awkward, so I fixed one onto Little Lou since we ain't got no pack mules. Pa'll never miss Little Lou since she's an old cow pony, so, I helped Kopakashe load all that stuff she brought with 'er, you know, all them bowls, blankets, furs and such. Guess they was for settin' up a household or whatever Shoshone call it, and I put some chickens in a crate left over from one of Hop Sing's trips to Chinatown's market and tied it on as well. I was tempted to give 'her a shoat too but Hop Sing'd hear it squealin' and pitch a fit over her takin' it and any of his chickens."

I didn't know how to respond. Kopakashe had left. I felt a profound loss…and dread; it was a long way to her tribe and she was alone. She was practically defenseless as the only weapons she had were the knives given as wedding gifts. "I swear…so no one else tried to stop her, told her I'd be back?"

"Ain't no one else knows yet but me and now you. Pa and Joe was out with the hands, showing the new ones about, settin' up the brandin' site an' all. And I couldn't see gettin' Hop Sing involved, 'specially since she pulled up some of his carrots from his kitchen garden. Figger what he don't know won't hurt none. 'Sides, she don't understand English, 'member?"

How lonely Kopakashe must have felt, all alone with no one to explain to her that I hadn't deserted her. No wonder she left—left me. I had only been married a few weeks and my bride had left me, preferring the dangers of the wild to staying at the Ponderosa with me. I strode out of the saloon and down the street to the where my horse was hitched, passing the Bannock woman who still held up a stand to me. I only glanced at her. Once at my horse, I checked the cinch before mounting. Hoss was waiting for me, and together, we rode out of town.

I wanted to push my horse to its limit; I couldn't get to the Ponderosa fast enough. But it was a long ride so I held my horse back to an easy canter. Besides, it was easier that way for Hoss to tell me what happened.

"So, she come down and looked 'bout for you. Didn't say nothin', just went outside. Guess she checked the barn and all, then came back in and Pa kinda asked her to sit down to breakfast by pullin' out a chair for 'er. She did but kept looking about and waiting. We was pleasant to her, hell, Pa was downright nice and Hop Sing made his special biscuits 'cause she liked 'em that time. She looked so sad and upset, we all felt sorry for 'er 'cause you up and left and didn't tell no one where you'd gone. I think you done broke her heart." Hoss huffed like he was carrying the horse instead of riding it.

"I didn't up and leave," I protested, "and I doubt I broke her heart." But I wasn't so sure. "All of you knew I had business in town and figured if I left before light, well, it'd be easier on Kopakashe."

"Sure, Adam. You just keep sayin' that but you don't fool me none. You're scared to death of that bitty squaw."

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

"Well, older brother, I think she got to you. She just 'bout worships you and you know you ain't worth it so you just up and left. I think you been hopin' she'd be gone when you got home. Well, she is so I guess that lets you off the hook."

I pulled up my horse, surprising Hoss. He went past me and had to jerk his horse's reins to turn about. "What you stoppin' for?"

"What the hell do you mean?"

"I can't speak much plainer. Kopakashe thinks you're wonderful, even as hairy and stinkin' as you are. She wants nothin' more'n to make you happy and all you done is shove 'er away. Maybe you oughta just leave 'er alone to find happiness with one of her own tribe cause I don't think you're good enough." Hoss turned his horse about and rode on to the Ponderosa. And I felt as if the bottom had dropped out.

TBC