Growing up McCullough

Chapter 14: It All Started…

Wes couldn't help but laugh as he sat in the armchair watching the family gather; this family sure went all out for Christmas.

"Luke take these cookies and put them on the table by the settee," called Mary from the kitchen where she was fixing glasses of apple cider.

"Ben, you and Mark stop that fussing and come take these glasses from your mother," groused Flint, as he came through the back door caring an armload of wood.

"But dad, if I get up, he'll take my seat, and I was here first," complained Mark without moving.

"Mark now, or you won't need a chair. Besides, you know that that's where your uncle Charlie is going to sit," replied Flint as he dropped his armload.

"Daddy, can I set on your lap?" asked Samantha. "Me and Brook?"

"Sure baby. Why don't you climb up there on the settee and save you momma and me a spot, while I carry Hunter up and put him to bed," said Flint reaching down and picking Hunter up from the rug where he and the girls had been sitting.

"Ha - beat you back," said Mark, as he dove for the chair in front of Benjamin; laughing as he landed.

"Both of you on the floor!" Ordered Flint. "Charlie and Bill, and Ty will get the chairs- you boys can all find a spot on the floor, he added giving them a stern look.

Wes started laughing out loud. "Is it always this busy around here? Or just on Christmas?" he asked, as Flint mounted the stairs.

Mary eased herself down on the sofa. "It's always busy, but usually not quiet this crazy. You have stumbled onto one of our favorite things around here. Stories. Especially ones about the messes that we get ourselves in," she answered.

"Yea, especially stories about someone else's mess," added Luke, dropping a cushion onto the floor next to the chair where he planned to ask uncle Bill to sit.

"Oh I see, and I guess that everyone around is itching to hear just how I came to be here."

"We sure are, son," came the answer from the back door where Bill, Gary Kevin, Barney and Ty had just arrived.

"We've brought the popcorn, when does the show start?" asked Bill placing his bowl onto the table before moving toward the chair next to Luke.

"You can sit here Mr. Ty, I'll find me a spot on the floor with the others," said Wes, not quiet wanting to refer to himself as a boy.

"You get to go first, why don't you sit on the foot stool next to Uncle Charlie," suggested Benjamin from his spot next to Mary's feet.

"I see the gangs all here, you ready Wes?" called Flint as he took his place next to Mary and settled on of his girls on each knee.

"I guess so, sir, I don't know if it's worth all this fuss though," answered Wes.

"Okay. Well let's see. I guess it all started about two years back. I thought I knew it all, until I was ten it was just ma and me. She had to work all the time, so I pretty much done what I wanted. I went to school sometimes, sometimes I didn't. Then one day, there was this city slicker who took a liking to ma and before I knew what was happening they were married. Things was okay, well for a while anyway. Then one day, Mr. Bodkin, he came home and up and announced that we were moving back east to Boston. I kicked up a fuss. I didn't want to go; I wouldn't have any friends there. I pleaded with Ma, but she was convinced it would be good for both of us. So like it or not, I was off to Boston. What I didn't know at the time was that Mr. Bodkin didn't plan on me living with him and mother. Just two weeks after the move he announced that I would be going off to a boarding school… In England. He had somehow convinced Ma that it was best for all of us. So at the age of fifteen I took off with the clothes on my back and all the cash from Bodkins money pouch."

"You mean, he just gave you the money and let you go?" asked Mark excitement in his voice.

"No, Mark, he didn't give me the money. I just took it. I figured he owed me that much after all he was taking my ma. At first I was headed back to Big Flat, and the life I knew. After all I was almost fourteen; I could take care of myself, and I did for a while. At first I was having a blast, until the money ran out. Then one day, I wandered into this store, looking for work, and happen to hear this tall man in a top had saying he had been hired by Bodkin to find a runaway boy. I knew right then that I had be careful where I showed my face. I knew that I could not go to Big Flat. So with no money and no real plan, I started my life on the run. I bounced around from place, working some, scrounging and even stealing - anything to get by.

"UMM… you're not aposta to steal…if you steal you'll get a go to jail… ain't that right daddy! asked Samantha smiling up at Flint.

"That's right baby, now shh…. Let's let Wes tell the story," said Flint smiling.

"Your right, Samantha, I did go to jail sometimes, and sometimes I'd get beat up, or..."

"You shoulda got a spankn', that's what you shoulda got. Cause stealing ain't right, huh Momma? interrupted Samantha once more.

"Isn't that right. corrected Mary. "Now hush baby, let Wes tell the story," she added patting Samantha on the head.

"You're right Sammy, but I wasn't lucky, like you; having a mom and dad that looked after me and gave me a spanking when I needed it. For the next two years' things went on like that. I was in and out of trouble and never staying in one place for long. I went as far as Texas. I got hold of a gun and decided that I could make a name for myself. Not long after that, one day back in August, I found myself on a stage with this Rancher dressed in black, and his tribe…

Flashback

Flint was at his wits end traveling with the small children in the crowded coach. He was sure it was worse than fighting angry Indians with a gun and no bullets. Brook squirmed and whined; scared by the unfamiliar surroundings. Running Fox and Mark weren't much better; they would get along fine one minute and then were at threatening to punch one another the next. The baby had cried non-stop and the situation hadn't been made any better by ill-tempered young cowboy that didn't like the fact that the stage line had no problem with him having to share the coach with 'injuns',

"Mister can't you shut that brat up?" growled the cowboy with an angry glare.

"There's nothing better, I'd like to do than to quiet my son, but right now he seems to be just as unhappy with his traveling companions as you are," answered Flint shifting the baby onto his shoulder to pat his back.

Brook turned a tear streaked face to Flint and tugged at his arm. "baa'(water)," she whined just above a whisper. Flint reached for the canteen hanging from a hook on the door of the coach.

The cowboy reached out and grabbed the canteen as he spat. "Don't you contaminate our drinking water by giving it to that little savage!" sending Brook into fresh tears and loud sobs.

"Who's calling who a savage; you're refusing water to a six-year-old little girl. YOU STINKY SIDEWINDER!" shouted Mark.

"Mister you had better teach that boy some manners, or I will," growled the cowboy lunging forward and grabbing Mark.

Flint's gun cleared leather, as he passed the baby to Running Fox. "Hold it right there, mister. Just sit yourself back down. I'd think really hard before you touch any of my children, if I were you," said Flint in a calm menacing tone that gave Mark a chill.

"Dirty, two faced white snake in the grass. I spit on you," muttered Running Fox under his breath.

The cowboy let go of Mark and sat back, raising his hands slowly. "Take it easy mister, I'm sitting, but just the same you should teach your boy's to mind their manners and speak to their elders with respect," answered the cowboy easing carefully back onto his seat.

"I tell you mister; I'd like to do that; you see I do teach my children to treat anyone older than them with respect. Trouble is all I see here is a wet behind the ears wanna be tough guy. I bet you're not more than what; eighteen- twenty at best? If I was to punish my boys for being disrespectful, it would only be fair if you received the same," said Flint holstering his gun and reaching for the canteen that now lay forgotten on the floor.

"I'd like to see you try, old man," said the cowboy with a loud gawphaw.

That sent both older boys into fits of laughter; picturing the grouchy cowboy across Flint knee. "Why don't we all just simmer down and sit back; we've only got fifteen miles before we reach Chapel Ridge and we can all enjoy the afternoon and get a good night's rest away from each other," suggested Flint.

The Cowboy fixed a cocky smirk on his face propped his boots on the seat next to Running Fox pulled his hat over his face and mutter under his breath. "Figures he'd be all talk."

End Flashback

"That's when you were mean to Brooke," recalled Benjamin, getting mad all over again.

"I'm sorry. Benjamin, but I didn't know any better; that's the way everyone around me treated Indians. Anyway at that time I was dam mad at the world. Sh.. Sorry ma'am, I mean, heck I was mad at myself too. I was downright nasty to everyone."

"What makes you different now, you still same mad?" asked Benjamin glaring back at Wes.

"Now simmer down, Benjamin. Remember you agreed that we would give him a chance," said Flint

"Now Ben, you should be the first to understand about, learning the ways of other people," suggested Mary squeezing his shoulder and slipping him a cookie at the same time.

"Finish story, I will listen," said Benjamin sheepishly, a little embarrassed that he liked Mary's tenderness.

"This is the part you boys don't know about. That night, I found myself some money and a bottle and I got drunk. Before long, I was shooting off my mouth and my gun. I was in the saloon…"

Flashback

"Barkeep, pour me another one! Hey barkeep did you hear me. I said pour me another one!" shouted Wes stumbling over to the bar.

"I heard you, son- you've had enough! I think it's time you called it a night," came the bartender's reply as he pushed the coin back.

"I said pour me another one, I'll be the one to say when I've had enough," said Wes flinging the coin back across the bar.

"I said you have had enough...I will not serve you anymore!" growled the bartender.

"How dare you take that tone with me!" shouted Wes.

drawing his gun and firing… Bang, bang two shots rang out. "How dare he tell me when I had had enough."

"Alright, cowboy, that will be enough out of you for tonight...Drop that gun," came a voice the young cowboy had heard before.

"Well if it ain't the Indian lover from the stage. Why don't you just go back to your little tribe and mind your own business," he slurred waving the still loaded gun.

"Drop the gun boy, before someone gets hurt," repeated Flint stepping a little closer.

All the commotion had drawn Sheriff Tucker's attention as he was doing his rounds. "Alright everybody put your guns away, we don't want innocent people hurt," he commanded, barging through the door.

Wes startled as he turned and faced the door and fired. Flint seized the moment and grabbed the boy's gun, wrestling it out of his hand. He then grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back.

Sheriff Tucker yelled "Mr. McCullough, could you take him over and lock him up, while I get someone to help me over to have the doc look at this leg?"

"Sure can," answered your Flint, as he dragged Wes passed him.

End Flashback

Wes shook his head. "I'm sure I kicked and cussed all the way to the jail, I was so drunk I couldn't break his grip, so I did the only thing I could think to do. I dropped to the ground and refused to move. When your pa reached down to drag me to my feet, I sank my teeth into his hand. He pulled back and I struggled to get to my feet… I bet I was a sight."

Flint Slapped his knee laughing. "Hahaha, you should have seen him hunched over with his rear in the air. I won't lie when he bite me I saw red, gave him a swift kick with the side of my boot right in the rear and sent him sprawling."

Wes nodded, red faced. "That he did, and you would think that I might wise up and realize what a mess I was in and not make it any worse, right? No - Not this cowboy, I went to cussing and mouthing things about how big I was and how I was going to get my gun and come after him. Ya Pa reached down grabbed me by the shirt front and hauled me to my feet. I remember him asking me to calm down and come along peaceful. Just before I dropped to the ground again kicking and squirming."

"Go the hell away, papa, why don't you go on back and look after your tribe, I got things to do." I yelled. Next thing I remember he had my hands and feet tied. He slung me over his shoulder danged if I know how he did it. He opened the door to the jail and dropped me on the bunk leaving me tied up as he turned and locked the door. I don't know how long he sat at that desk, but he sat watching me fight the ropes and cussing him. I called him things that I won't dare to repeat in mixed company. I didn't know it then but the madder I got the soberer I became. I kept screaming and yelling about how I was a man and how he had no right to keep me tied up like this." Wes smiled and shook his head at his own immature behavior. "But your Pa, he just kept saying, 'A big mouth don't make a big man, as soon as you pipe down I'll untie you. I must have finally gotten quiet, cause he came into the cell and stooped over me to untie the rope."

"No son you didn't get quiet, but you were fighting the ropes so hard I was afraid you were going to burn your wrist and ankles. I felt sorry for you." interrupted Flint once more.

"That figures. Anyway I saw my chance; I darted for the open cell door, yelling" catch me if you can old man."

"I didn't know that anyone could move so fast. I swear I think your Pa jumped over me, anyway he was between me and the outside door. His face was flaming red I started throwing everything I could get my hands on."

He started lecturing again. "For such a big man your acting like a child, It's time to stop, before…"

"Before What! Old man, before you take me in hand, I'd like to see you try… It" I yelled sending the coffee pot toward his head.

Next thing I remember, he had backed me into the corner, growling through grit teeth. "You want to see me try huh? Well...I wouldn't want to disappoint you! He growled as he reached down and removed his belt."

All the children's' eyes went wide. Flint sat covering a smirk with his hand. He found this funny to some degree, but his real mirth came from his pride for the boy; he was proud of Wes for being so honest and open.

Wes added to the surprise when he lent over speaking to the group of youngsters enthralled by his story. "I Knew right then I had made a mistake. Your Pa grabbed hold of my arm and twisted me around and draped me across the desk. I remember I was so surprised or mad at first I didn't fight much. After six maybe 8 licks, I ranted and cussed as the belt cracked across the seat of my pants. Then he shifted his grip and I thought it was over; but no; smack! that belt cut a strip across the back of my legs. OUCH I felt that one. Ouch the same spot twice. I found myself crying louder with ever lick, then pleading for it to stop. I heard Mr. McCullough say," If you're going to act like a child you can expect to be treated like one. Then the lickin' stopped and I just laid there blubbering. i remember thinking that my butt was on fire. I finally calmed some and started to stand."

"Then I heard your pa again. 'Now, son I think you best get to your feet and get this mess straightened up. Unless of course you still think I can't put you in your place.'

Wes paused and straighten up. "I was so mad I glared at him the whole time I was putting all the things I'd thrown back in order. But your Pa just stood arms folded with his belt in hand. Dare I cross him again…"

"You didn't...Only white boy foolish pride make him dumb enough to ask for another. I only felt father's belt one time; not want again for long time; no never. Never." injected Benjamin bewildered.

Wes scoffed and nodded at Benjamin, ignoring the implied insult. "You're right, mad as I was, I wasn't stupid. I did just what your father said, and even added yes sir when he said for me to get on that bunk. My anger bubbled again when he told the sheriff all about the escapade. For days after your dad left, I muttered and complained about the treatment and how I wanted to file assault charges. I grumbled so much that Sheriff Tucker offered to check the damage. Turns out I couldn't file assault charges, not without letting the doctor see the damage. And worse I'd have to stand in front of a judge admitting that I had gotten my ass, ah sorry ma'am. My hide tanned. The more I thought about it, the more I came to realize that maybe your dad and the sheriff were right. Maybe I really wasn't ready to be on my own. Later I went before the judge for careless discharge of a firearm, and several other offenses. The judge sentenced me to six weeks in jail with a promise that if I got in any more trouble again, I would go to the workhouse until my twenty-first birthday. Well the longer I laid there and thought things over the more I came to understand that I didn't want to spend my life in prison. Then it came back to me; all the things that your dad had said standing there watching me clean; about seeing something in me that said that I wasn't as big and tough as I wanted to be, and that maybe I should let someone help me find a better path, before I crossed the wrong person and wound up dead. The more I thought, the more questions I asked myself. Finally, about a week before my time was up I got a letter. It was from your dad asking me to come out and try a better way of life and well… here I am." said Wes with a sheepish grin.

"You decided to come, or the Sheriff made you come," asked Kevin.

"It was my decision, it took a lot of thinking and weighing things over in my mind, most of it done laying on my belly, thanks to Mr. McCullough," answered Wes, whistling as he remembered the sting. Darn, if he didn't feel it as he spoke.

"That's what gets me, I mean. You know he might tan your hide again, but you still decided to come!"

"Well, Kevin the way I see it Mr. McCullough is the first person in a long time that even kinda cared enough to try to get through to me. It's like Sheriff Tucker said; I wasn't listening to reason, so maybe I needed someone to talk to the other end until I grew up a little," quoted Wes.

"Well, boys it getting late and it's been a long day, Why don't Y'all take the rest of this storytelling out to the wranglers roost. I think Mrs. McCullough and I are ready for bed," sighed Flint shifting the too sleeping girls on his arms.

"Here, Flint ole boy, let me take one of those dolls," said Bill getting to his feet as the boys began to troop toward the back door calling out their good nights.

"I'll be up as soon as I tidy up these dishes," called Mary as Flint got to his feet with Brooke in his arms.

"Nonsense. Luke, gather up the dishes and stack them in the sink, then it's off to bed with you," ordered Flint.

"But dad, I want to hear the rest of the stories, Kevin and Gary promised to tell Wes their stories. can't I just go out until the stories are finished? I promise to come straight in afterwards."

"You are redistricted to the house, so I'm sorry but it dishes and off to bed son," said Mary.

"Come on Luke, I'll give you a hand," suggested Charlie nodding his head toward the popcorn bowls and glasses.

~oOo~

Upstairs in Flint and Mary's Bedroom

Mary smiled and snuggled into Flint's embrace. "It has been a very busy day. It will be a Christmas to remember," she sighed contently.

"Long busy day is right. filled with one surprise after another," said Flint kissing Mary's Bare shoulder.

"That's for sure, first Luke's stunt, and then a new hand, then Benjamin's outburst, hardly gives a body a chance to think," said Mary.

"All in a day's work around here, after all boys will be boys, even on Christmas!" yawned Flint. young Wes seems to be trying to fit in don't you think? asked Flint.

"Well yes, I guess, I'm a bit concerned though," answered Mary slowly turning her face to Flint.

"Concerns? about what my love?" Flint asked raising his head and looking into her eyes as he waited for the answers.

"First off, Wes told you he was eighteen when he signed the contract. Then tonight he said he left home around two years ago. But, in his story he said he was fifteen, one time and thirteen another, and then still another fourteen. Then there's the part about a detective looking for him." Mary sighed with that worried mother look in her eyes.

"You noticed that the age thing too did you? Don't let it worry you dear. I have Sheriff Tom look into it for me, but let's keep things between us for now?" said Flint knowing that would be little comfort to this nurturing woman; his adored wife and mother to a horde of youngsters.

"But Flint, if he's be gone from home since he was thirteen, his mother must be worried sick, we have to let her know," fretted Mary tears glistening in her eyes.

"I agree Mary, and we will, but until we know the details, we don't want to scare him off," explained Flint.

"Of course you're right dear. I'll do my best to make him feel at home here while you figure things out," answered Mary rubbing the side of Flint's face.

"By the way, what did Luke have to say for himself this morning?" said Mary changing the subject.

"Not much, just that he wanted to go sledding on the fresh snow before anyone else," answered Flint yawning again.

"That's strange; Bill said that he was covered from head to foot in horse manure; said he reeked to high heaven," replied Mary.

Flint went quite as the wheels in his mind started to turn. "I'll have to have a talk with that youngin' in to morning," mumbled Flint, realizing he didn't have all the facts on more than one boys story. "Night my love. Merry Christmas," said Flint kissing Mary and closing his eyes.

TBC