Chapter 12

The Lazy Bar

He recalled back to the first time he saw that boy in the ranch yard of his neighbors. He was a wee thing then. Scratched up and covered in soot.

A friend of his had made mention of the boy some time ago which he gave little interest of then. As it was, his interaction with the Circle J was sporadic at best and typically consisted of business.

From the first time he'd laid eyes on that boy and every time since, he would appear to be worse for wear. As he grew over the years, got taller and bulked out, his deportment never changed. He was worn, tired, and gaunt, carrying the scars and bruises of the day's beatings. One thing that did change in him. His eyes were darker as if what light may have been in them, if ever there was, were now on dead embers. The darkness within his eyes bleeding out to the lids below. The look of them suggesting that the burden he carried was a great one.

Jay had four boys of his own. The eldest was in his late twenties. The youngest mid-teens. None had yet to produce offspring, so, how this boy was connected to the family, where this boy might have come from, he hadn't a clue.

With the purpose of discussing the rising cost of goods on the hopes that a financial understanding could be reached, he dropped by for a visit. It was on this day, as he was sharing lemonade in the middle of the hot summer afternoon, under the wing of the covered patio, that a tumult drew their attention.

"Gawdang it!" Jay sprung up and slapped his leg with his own hat. The hands were dragging the youth into the yard. "What's he done?" He asked, stepping off the patio.

"He was leading the oxen and the yoke slipped. The whole device came crashing down. It's busted up."

One of the men had already left and was coming back with the lash in the time it took to explain this. As if the lash was always available.

"Gosh dang it boy! You know how long it'll take me to fix one of those? Boomer how long?"

"Two days at least." Came the eager reply.

"Ten lashes for each day and if it takes more, you'll get more." The boy laid coward on the ground whimpering with each strike as they came.

"Don't you think you're being a little harsh? The boy's barely a man. He can't be expected to pull the weight of a yoke."

"The boy's got to learn. I don't need free loaders around here. He's got to pull his weight with the rest of them." He brings down the whip again. This would be the last one he would ever do. The old man stayed the baron's hand.

He knelt to the boy amidst a slew of astounded eyes, lifting him up to his knees to face him. Seeing him clearly now behind the dust he had accumulated was a black eye, and a purple cheek. His lower lip had a scab that went straight down the middle, opened again oozing fresh blood. The boy had been balled up when the strikes came so the old man assumed he didn't get the split lip from that. These men had beaten their victim before ever making it into the yard. The old man took out his white kerchief and dabbed at the boy's lip. The boy seemed to be confused at this show of affection. This made the man all the more resolute.

"Jay, I'd like to make a new deal. How much would you be willing to let this boy go for?"

"You come here to complain about the rising cost of goods and yet want to spend your money on something worthless, as if you've got it to throw away."

"How much?"

Jay gave a curious half smile as if he was thinking.

Upon some negotiation, the old man left with the boy that day.

~.~

It was a strange feeling crossing to the other side of that fence line. This was his first time off the ranch since he had been brought here three years ago. He was eleven now.

The boy was quiet the entire ride, taking in the natural landscape. It was autumn. The forest rained down gold leaves atop green grass with a quiet solemnity. He leaned over as they crossed over quaint wooden bridges above small streams.

Who knew how close he'd been to so many waters? He marveled. All this time.

After a few miles of hill country, the wagon turned onto a long stretch of road. The grandest river, that is next to the Mississippi, swooped over to greet them. They travelled with it for some time until finally turning off.

The road took them through a small town, which only appeared to be a few streets big. Reaching the edge of town, they turned off again to a road where only a few houses lay with lots of space between each house. His owner turned in and pulled up in front of the third house on that road.

The house was smaller than Jay's and unpainted, but it had a porch much like Jay's. Not as kept. A collection of unmatching and rundown chairs made up its front.

A young, sweet-looking maiden met them at the door. She dipped her head but paused as she caught sight of the boy.

"This is Miss Calderon."

She was too tongue tied to respond.

"Could you help clean this boy up?"

She smiled softly. Stretching out her arm to invite him in. "Come here." She led him into the washroom. Kneeling before him, she took a wet rag to his face. "Look at me." He raised his face but kept his eyes lowered. The look of him made her heart twinge. She stopped wiping. "Why, you look like something an alpaca spit out." Dirt didn't know what she meant, but her voice was soft and sweet. "No. This won't do at all." Seeing the full extent of his injuries she knew much more than a wipe down was needed. He waited while she set him up with a warm bath. "I'll leave you alone. You call if you need anything."

His stiff muscles softened like butter in the warm water. This was the first warm bath he'd had in years. He heard them talking outside. They were talking about him. She was asking where he'd come from and the elder was explaining.

"Does Charlie know?"

"No. I don't see he would. I suppose we'll tell him tomorrow. Meanwhile, I'd hate to ask, but I'm going to need your help."

He came out to the two of them dragging a bed into the house. Brought from the bunkhouse and set in the spare room which was currently filled with junk. No matter how much he protested and assured they didn't have to make all that effort for him.

"It's already done." The old man insisted. The bed wasn't being used as it was. The boy wondered why he got the room at all. If the old man had given him a bed in the bunkhouse that would have been a step up from his living conditions at Circle J.

He'd grown out of the clothes he'd travelled here in some years ago. Assuring he couldn't get back into the tattered linen he came in with, they threw them aside like detritus. They'd dressed him in some of the old man's clothes until they could get him a fresh new set the next day. She sat him up on a tall stool in front of a large looking glass, much like what would have been seen in the mansion he grew up in. She got to brushing out his hair which had grown long and unruly.

Her sweet care conjured some feeling he wasn't familiar with. He worked to recall some long dead memory and was panged when it hit him because the images flooded back. He remembered the way she used to dote over him. The way she moved. The way she talked. The way she dressed. Her care. It had been such a long time since he'd thought of her. He hadn't needed the memories of her when he was out there on Jay's ranch. Not when those memories only created a painful yearning. He couldn't reach her. He had to learn to forget her and just focus on making it through each day. But now, as this woman tended to him, cared for him, the memory of her came back. There was a time when she was his world. Now he had guilt because as hard as he tried, he had difficulty in picturing her face.

Calderon turned him to see how he looked from the front.

"Look at me." She said lifting his head. Again, his eyes failed to meet hers but there was something more now. His face was troubled. She took a breath to avoid this.

"There. How does that look?" She asked, handing him a handheld glass. She had tied his hair back in a ribbon. Though his face was still marred, he looked remarkably like a real boy. "What do you think?" She prodded for an answer. All he could give was a timid nod of acceptance.

~.~

Miss Calderon served up the meal before joining them herself. His first experience eating at a traditional table. Miss Delphe had taught him some of manners and what kind of behavior was expected at these tables, but those lessons had been so long ago now. The only thing Pete really did was make sure he ate with proper utensils. Between the two, this was enough to get him through the meal.

"What is your name?" The elder broke the silence.

"Dirt."

They both looked at him curiously. He knew that was wrong to say. That wasn't his real name, but he had been called by that name for so long now his real name no longer seemed real to him anymore.

"Dirt. That's a funny name." The old man then asked. "Your mother give you that name?"

He went off in his head as he answered. "I never knew my mother."

The elder glanced to Miss Calderon. The boy came out of his head to look around the room who was staring curiously back. He picked up a nibble of food.

"So tell me, how did you come to work for Jay?" The elder asked changing the subject.

The boy shrugged before adding, "I was brought here one day."

"From where? Where'd you come from?"

"New Orleans."

"New Orleans? Well, that's a longways away."

"It was a long way. I remember that."

This kid had so much mystery shrouding him the old man hardly knew where to begin to unravel it all.

"Do you remember what my name is?"

"I'm sorry. I don't."

"Micky Hendrick. Folks call me Mick."

~.~

Miss Calderone was not in, when he awoke. They went and had breakfast without her. After breakfast he was ushered outside. Hendrick wanted to show him the ranch. He'd taken him across the grounds to a bunkhouse. It's planks grey and dilapidated. The windows darkened in this early morning giving the appearance that no one lived here, or if they did, they were still very much asleep. Hendrick stepped up on the porch and knocked. It took only a moment for a man in his late twenties to open up. He'd been caught with a half shaven face and a towel slung over his shoulders.

"Morning Mister Hendrick. Is it that late already?" He leaned in to grab his pocket-watch but Hendrick assured, "No take your time. I'm early." He went back to the washroom Just to the right of the entry and talked through the mirror.

"I was just finishing up. I fed the livestock already. Just came in to grab some viand and freshen up before heading back out there."

"What's your plan for today?"

"Gonna hit that east 40. Start clearing them trees."

"That's good, that's good. Uh, when you get a chance, I'll need your help unloading the goods I brought back from Jay's."

"I can tackle that before I head out if you want."

"Anytime by day's end would be great. Though you may want to do it before you tire yourself out. Those barrels are heavy."

"Yeah, I'll get it done." His boss stood in the doorway as if something more was on his mind.

"How'd the talk go?"

"As predicted. Jay's adamant about keeping prices as they are because you know, "hard times". He took off a percentage of the load though. Cut off the price of delivery. Said it'd keep his boy from having to make the trip."

"That man is a real piece of work. I told you nothing would come of it." He said rinsing the blade and wiping his face clean.

"Well one thing came of it." He looked up through the mirror and could see his boss was smiling. He had turned to his side to bring some package to the forefront. Of all curious things, a boy came into view. He turned to get a better look. After staring on for a moment, he approached slowly.

"Picked him up from Jay's yesterday."

The boy was clean but exhibited a marred face. His long hair held back by a ribbon. Swallowed up by clothes which were too large for his frame. The laborer gave Mister Hendrick a curious look. A question being asked in that look. Hendrick responding with sure eyes and a soft smile. The laborer's focus went to the boy.

"Hey kid. How you doing?"

The kid gave no answer.

"This is Charles, my lead foreman." Charles hid a smirk. "He here keeps this place running."

"Sir." The boy bowed timid obeisance.

"Will you be staying with us?"

The boy wasn't quite sure just why it was he was here to give a proper answer. He looked to the elder to provide them.

"That really hasn't been explained to him yet. Thought I'd show him around before we got into all that."

"But is that...?"

"That's the plan."

"Good to have you." They seemed to be waiting for a reply, but the boy gave none.

The men got off to talking about the work ahead of them. Something in the look of Charles commanded the boy's attention causing him to stare as they conversed. Charles could see there was trouble in the boy's eyes. They both could see it. Charles tried to ignore it and carry on with the conversation, but the boy's trouble failed to cease. Hendrick cut the conversation short.

"Well I'll let you get to it then." He took the boy by the shoulders and guided him away.

~.~

"You okay kid?" Mick asked as they walked away back to the house. The boy nodded but seemed stuck in his head.

"You weren't very friendly to Charlie just now."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"No mind."

"Have a seat." He directed, when they were back at the porch, but the boy instantly alerted. Was this a trick? The porch he came to know was a place of honor, status. That's where the Master of the house always sat. Aside from him and his own kin, only his most trusted companions sat in those chairs. The thought of mere dirt being up here was taboo. Of course, sleeping in the bed last night. Even being allowed inside the house was against everything he'd been taught at Jay's. "It's okay kid. I'm not gonna bite." He had pulled out a chair for him. He took a gulp to swallow his fear. This was his new master now, and he had to get used to the way things were done here.

Hendrick pulled up one of the remaining chairs and took a seat at the table.

"I was planning on showing you around first, but I'm thinking now that we should have a conversation." The boy had an instant feeling that he'd done something wrong. "I'm sure this is a lot to process right now. Wondering who we are. Why you're here?" He continued. "Going from one environment to another and not having any answers. That can be very confusing for a young man. I think that perhaps we should get to know each other." The kid had dropped his head, not ready to tell the secrets of his past to this stranger. Hendrick seemed to be aware of the boy's conflict. "How about I tell you about us?" The boy's look assured the rancher that he was on the right track. He went into the story of how they came to be.

"I was a sailor up until recent years. Used to work on this 12-gun sloop of war called the Shark. You ever been on a boat?" The boy leant a quick nod. Hendrick smiled and continued. "My crew and I had been sent out on an exploratory voyage up the Columbia. On our return to the Pacific, the ship had struck a shoal and broke apart. It was a total loss. All of the men survived though. That's what truly matters. We made it to this nearby sandbar. Beat with exhaustion we'd collapsed out over it. This was how the natives came upon us. They nursed us back to health and provided safe passage out. With their aid the entire crew had made it back to San Francisco. Not a single man lost.

It was too late for me though. I was smitten. I'd fallen in love with the place. With the people. The raw nature of it. I quit the navy soon after and made my way back up. Settled in this growing mining community and opened up a saloon in town. Call it the Lazy Bar. Most folks don't know but it's got a double meaning." He chuckled fondly. "When the natives found us on the bank, they kept repeating this word. They speak some unknown language you see. Come to find out they were calling us lazy. I could imagine the sight when they first came upon us. Seeing all of us pale faces sprawled out like starfishes. The miners think I named this place for them. A place they could rest at the end of the day. I did, in a way. But not just for them. You hear stories of the brutal nature of the savages that pocket this country. We were at our most vulnerable state when we were on that sandbar. If they'd lived up to that reputation, we'd all be dead. But they were friendly, even as they made fun of us for laying out sunbathing like we were. The Lazy Bar. A reminder of the kindness we were shown. It's a silent tribute to them." He said reminiscent.

"Miss Calderon, she is native. Of these very tribes I speak of." This surprised the boy. For her dress resembled that of a settler. Hendrick smiled at the boy's look. He continued his story. It was on her doing that we started serving food at the establishment. She said that the men would need more than just drink at the end of the day. She cooks most of the meals.

"Not too long after turning it into a restaurant was when I met Charles. At the time he was fresh out of a job and was looking for work. I hired him on. First as a barkeep then overtime his position had changed. With his help we expanded further into selling supplies. That's where our troubles truly began. Nothing on Charles's doing. With Jay. You see, he's our main vendor. It was around these times he started to raise his prices. As time went on, he's gone to jacking up prices so high we could hardly afford to stay in business. He doesn't know it, but he's affecting the entire town. The average miner or homesteader can't afford these prices. Most end up moving on. The town can't grow and alternatively Jay continues to hold the corner market in this area. It's because of this that Charles and I have decided to take matters into our own hands. We've decided we needed to raise our own food. Have our own crops and livestock. Get out from underneath Jay's thumb.

"Why am I here?"

"I guess I didn't quite get into that. Well, to put it simply, I was hoping you could lend us a hand." The boy took on a pained look.

"If I may sir. If you don't have any money, why did you spend it on me? Why not somebody better?"

"Don't count yourself short. From what I hear, your one of the hardest workers out there." His look suggested that he knew he was being lied to. There was regret in the boy that he didn't want to show Mick, but he caught something of it in his eyes. The boy's thoughts were only flooded by all of his many errors and wrong doings he would be punished for at Jay's place. Mick must have known his thoughts because he emphasized. "Rest assured boy. The way you were treated out there is not going to happen here. You will never be hit or struck. I don't hit my employees, and I don't tolerate it from the people that work for me either. The boy didn't seem to be placated.

"How many men work here?" He had to know what he was up against.

"Right now, it's just Charles." This was a weird answer. Mostly because Jay had referred to him as the lead foreman, but he has no men under him. Then he knew, he was to be that man. He gulped his trepidation.

"Why did you really take me?" he asked candidly.

The elder smiled and began again. "To tell you the truth boy, I wasn't planning on it."

He explained that yesterday's venture was made on the intention of talking business and cutting deals. He was trying to get Jay to come down on his prices. Though he is looking for more people to work the restaurant and his own growing ranch, the boy never factored into those plans. At least not on the part of the elder. It wasn't until he saw him himself, truly saw him before him and all that had been happening that a spark was ignited, and he knew he had to make room for this boy in his life.

"I mean, I've been told about you before. In fact, just before I rode out yester-morning, I was told to keep a look out for you. Though I agreed, I never did give you much more thought than that."

"By whom?" He wondered who would give him much interest. To picture that he was being talked would give little he mind?

"By the man you just met."

He sunk his eyes in consternation. "I feel like I know that man."

The elder smirked curiously then leaned back in his chair. "But you don't know from where?"

He shook his head. He hadn't of known a whole lot of people in his life so why this man's image had escaped him, he didn't know for the life of him.

Mick smiled before he lighted. "It's been a few years since you'd seen him and only for a short while. I understand how you might not remember. He used to work for Circle Jay. Used to work right alongside you, in fact. He quit the ranch shortly after you were brought on. Charles Winston." That name rang some familiarity. "You might have known him as C.W."

"Oh!" There was a bitter ache as he thought back to those first few weeks. How unsure he was of his new environment. He didn't realize until now but C.W. was the one thing then that kept him grounded. One of the only men who he'd work closely with on a regular basis that didn't hurt him. He was a point of safety in a way. But then he up and left. Like Delphe. "Why did he leave?"

"That would be a question better answered by him."

This didn't settle well. Anyway, he let it be.

How about we finish up that tour. He wanted to show the boy around his new home. He took him to the chickens first as they were closest to the house. Then the cows which had a very large pen to roam in. He showed the boy how they're fed and maintained. He was proud to note that Miss Calderon makes cheese from these cows. Not just for the house but for the restaurant as well. He took him past the bovine and into the thicket of trees. His land went on past the greens and the shrubbery. He talked to the boy as if he saw him as an equal. There was an ease to him that made the boy feel comfortable.

"You have a lot of apple and berry trees out here. Did you put them here?"

"No. They grow naturally around these parts. Spring up pretty much all by themselves."

"What do you do with all this fruit?"

"We take what we need for the restaurant. Pick more for the Astoria market. I'll be taking you up there soon enough. Otherwise, I let the cows pick them off. Most fall to the ground, rot."

They walked some distance through the wild orchards until they came to a river. The boy had stopped to admire it. Whereas Mick intended to walk on, the boy had become ensnared. He was caught up in the beauty of it. The smooth and consistent thrumming of rolling water. The way the light danced and twinkled off of it. It was hypnotic. There was a familiarity to it. Reminding him of an old friend. A friend he hadn't seen in some time.

"You okay?" Mick asked, catching on to the boy's stagnant, snapping him out of his state.

"Is this river yours?"

"No. It belongs to the county. My property runs right to the edge of it."

"Does it have a name?"

"Not really. Not yet. It's a branch that runs off the Williamette."

It ran on the eastern part of the property. He found himself fascinated by it. The happy call of lapping waves.

They'd spent hours out there and didn't come in until near towards the evening.

~.~

Miss Calderon was not in, but a package had somehow materialized and now sat on the corner of the table. Parchment paper wrapped nicely around whatever this was. The elder picked up the note which rested on top.

"Hm! It's for you." The boy was curious less in the package and more in why anything would be for him. "Go on. Open it." Slowly, he unfolded the parchment. The most beautiful set of linen awaited him. A light blue button down and brown cotton slacks. Beneath them a dark brown button down with dark blue slacks. Clean and pressed. A white nightgown beneath them. Not a hole in any of them. He felt them. Ran his hands along them. Picked the top shirt up and smelled it. "Are you going to just admire them or are you going to try them on? You can't go on tromping in my clothes your whole life."

He got right to work on trying them on and showcasing them before his caretaker. They were all a little big, but Mick assured that he would grow into them. The boy didn't care. He loved them. They were smaller than old man Hendrick's anyhow.

"This is just something to get you started. You can start dressing proper now."

For the first night in a longtime he went to bed with a smile on his face. At least one of those sets he slept with. Hugging them like he used to hug Miss Delph's doll.

~.~

Miss Calderon was setting food on the table when he came out the next morning. As she was the only one there, Dirt looked around.

"Where's Mister Hendrick?"

"He's tending to the restaurant. You'll find that between that and this place, we stay pretty busy." She said, serving him up a plate. "Now there's you. Oh, don't take it like that boy." She amended at his look, setting the serving dish down. "I didn't mean that as it came out. Besides, I have all hopes that you'll be a great asset once you get your legs about you." She handed him a fork.

He took it timidly from the caring woman and sat before the plate.

"Something on your mind boy?"

"No, ma'am."

"You know, if there is something bothering you, it might help to get it off your chest." She took a seat across from him to show him he had her attention. He hardly knew her enough to spill his secrets.

"I'm okay. Thank you."

She looked on. Dirt felt uncomfortable with the way she looked at him now. If he didn't say something now, she might start prying and he didn't feel like talking about himself.

"I got the package you left me last night."

"I see that." She noted his nightgown.

"Thank you. They are really nice."

"Well, it was Mister Hendrick that paid for them. I just picked them out."

"I like them very much."

"You're welcome." She gave him a soft smile, then let him eat getting back up to tend to the house.

"You work for Mister Hendrick?"

"That's right."

"At the restaurant and here?"

"Well, I live here, so it doesn't really count as work. More like household duties."

"Are you two married?"

"No." She chuckled.

"Related?"

"No."

"How did you come to be here?"

"What do you mean?"

"You work for him, but you also live with him." She sat back down with a smile.

"Mick took me in. I guess you can say much like he took you in, though I wasn't a child. Mick would argue that point." She amended but then continued. "No. I was 20 when he took me in. Gave me a job. Without him, who knows where I'd be? I'm two parts Indigenous. Rayados which is in Mexico and Tillamook which is down south a way, just over the Neahkanie Mountain. My father came on an expedition from Mexico. He was a guide at the time. It was there that he met my mother. Together they had me."

"What happened to them?"

"My father's dead. My mother went back to live with the tribe."

"Do you live with the tribe?"

"No. Not me."

"Why not?"

"I live here?"

"But why not with your people? Did they give you up?"

"No. Nothing like that. My father chose to raise me outside the tribe. This was where I grew up. When my father died my mother went back to her family. I could have gone back, but I had lived my whole life outside of them I couldn't see me really fitting in. My mother is connected to them. My connections are limited. My mother couldn't make it out here on her own. I wanted to try. Granted I had a rough start. I was starving a bit before Mick found me."

Dirt sat, trying to understand.

"You just about done there? Finish up. Charles is going to need your help today."

"He is?"

"Of course, he is. That is, if you're up for it."

"Yes ma'am."

~.~

He found Charles in the East grove chopping trees and clearing the area.

"I'm here to help you if you need me." He approached timidly.

"I do need you in fact. Can you take this and drag it out of the way?" The burden was a large branch he had just cut down. When the boy took control, the top twigs intertwined with other fallen brush and snagged. He had trouble pulling the heavy thing free. He pulled and tugged feeling the judging eyes of this man and his thinning patience with each passing second. He became desperate to not disappoint. "Let me see." Charles came around, stepping high over the shrubbery just as Dirt had yanked. Some of the top branches loosened themselves and swung out wildly. Charles had to put his arm up to avoid getting a face shot.

The boy dropped the branch and recoiled back. Seeing this, Charles stopped his advancement.

"You don't have to be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you."

The boy held an underlying fear in his eyes. His words were travesty. It was not his lot in life not to be hurt.

"We're going to do this together. You and me kid. You ready?"

Charles's original plan was to have the boy work in the field while he continued clearing the trees but amended at the boy's agitation. He instead, worked alongside him. He wanted him to feel comfortable in working with him. This was all too familiar to years ago. How they first met. The boy was stronger than before. Had more stamina.

~.~

A week later, as Hendrick had promised they'd made a trip into Astoria. It took just over 2 hours to drive those 20 miles. This place was much bigger than their little town of Clatsop Junction with just a few blocks long and as equally wide. This city alternatively was growing and growing fast.

They brought milk, butter, cheese and fruit to market and picked up supplies like salt, sugar, flour and coffee. Before making the trip back home, Mister Hendrick had one more stop to make.

He took them to the shore of the Columbia River.

The boy's heart thrummed with harnessed excitement.

"I figured you might like this. You seem to have a fascination with water. What, with the way you stared at the river in Clatsop. I noticed it too every time we crossed over a bridge on the day I picked you up from Jay's and even the trip here."

Hendrick was right. Something about the grandness made his heartbeat with wild excitement, which he little portrayed but through his wide eyes of fascination.

"There's one more thing. See that boat over there? That blue and white one? That's the Starfish. I take her out to the Hoquarton Bay area about three times a year to drop off supplies to the local pop."

"That boat is yours?"

"Well, not really. It actually belongs to the Hudson Bay Company. I named her though. They pay me to take these year around trips. I'm the only one they can get to do it on account of how dangerous it is. I figure these people did such a huge favor for me, I owe them to do this for them. Oh, don't worry about me kid." He said at his look. "I made it my mission to learn these waters, to learn these shoals, so I can bring food and supplies to their people. Not today, but I plan on taking you out on that thing if you'll let me."

And so he did. They would make plans to take the boat out and sail these waters on their trips to Astoria. He would never take him to this mysterious land of Hoquarten which was where the Tillamook people lived, the land of Ana's people. It was too dangerous of a trip for a small boy like him. He understood. Just to spend a few hours out on the water before heading back home. To smell the salt water and the fresh sea air. He felt what freedom was truly like. His spirit would soar with the western gulls and he would always come home with a feeling of completion as if a broken spirit had been made whole again.

~.~

Right away, this place was everything that Circle Jay's was not. Kind, gentler, peaceful, family. Those beginning days didn't pass placidly though. There was always work to be done. It seemed as if Jay was purposely trying to drive Charles and Hendrick out of business, with the continual rise in prices. As prices rose Charles and Hendrick did their best to combat them by coming up with more aggressive tactics to get out from underneath his thumb and becoming more independent.

Between the ranch and the restaurant, they remained pretty busy.

The boy had gotten used to Charles and overtime became more relaxed around him. Charles would look up now and again and smile at the boy letting him know he was doing alright. Feeling that confidence grow, in time, he began to smile back. This was all too familiar to years ago. How they first met. Just like then, and just as Hendrick had promised, Charles would never hurt him, regardless of his errors.

As they grew to know each other better, one niggling question remained always at the surface.

One day, after clearing a section of land for cabbage, they had stopped to rest and take in some water. The boy broached "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. What you got?"

"Why did you quit Jay's." This question seemed to stump the man.

He took a moment to gather himself. Finally, he answered. "It was you kid."

"Me?"

"I couldn't stand what they were doing to you. Watching them hurt you like they were. It was…" He gulped. "I couldn't stand by and watch that happen."

"You were the voice I heard outside my door." Charles looked down at him amazed. He didn't know he heard, although it was foolish now to think that he couldn't, with the way they'd been shouting.

"That's right."

"What were you doing?"

"My plan was to leave that night. Take you with me. I got caught. Pete, he stopped me. I guess the men must have told him what I was planning. I was pretty thick-headed. Would have taken you anyways, except he pulled a gun on me. I was kicked off the ranch. They told me they would kill me if I ever set foot there again."

"I'm sorry." The boy uttered.

"You're sorry?" He huffed. "You don't know it kid, but you're my biggest regret." This left an impression on the boy.

"When you left. Where'd you go?"

He removed his hat to run his fingers through his hair before placing it on top again. I found the saloon first. Mick caught me drinking away my troubles. We got to talking. I expressed my need for work, and he offered me a job behind the bar. That's where I stayed. That was until we started expanding."

"Mick, I mean Mister Hendrick told me that you used to talk about me to him."

"For three years all I could think about was how I failed you."

"You're the reason I'm here now."

"No. That was Mick's doing."

"If it hadn't been for you, he might not have seen me the way you used to. You told him to watch for me."

"To tell you the truth, I didn't even know if you were still alive. For all I knew, you could have been…" He took a sharp breath as if the realization of that word frightened him. "I just didn't know." He slaked. "I guess, I needed to know."

"He may have brought me home. But you both saved me."

~.~

Ana was brushing his hair after a bath one day like Delphe used to do.

"I wish you could have been my mom." He spilled out.

"Oh child, you don't mean that."

"I do. I never had a mom of my own."

"Everyone has a mom."

"Not me."

"Well, just because you don't know much about her doesn't mean she didn't exist. Didn't any woman ever show you this kind of attention?"

He went quiet. "Miss Delphe. She was the woman who raised me when I lived with my grandmother."

"What happened to her?"

"I don't know. She said she'd never leave me, and she did. She gave me up." There was a whole lot of hurt the boy was holding back.

She sat the brush down. This would be the beginning of many admissions to come. Her voice choked. "It's time for your studies boy."

~.~

They had discovered early on just how limited his education really ran. Evening studies had become a regular part of their routine. This included reading, writing arithmetic and biblical studies. Both Hendrick and Calderon took part in this boy's education.

Earlier that week, they had gotten on the subject of Moses. That conversation had taken an unexpected turn though and had to be cut short. It had gone along something like this. Hendrick was telling the story of his birthright as an Israelite but how he was raised as an Egyptian.

"Nobody knew his birthright, not even he, until God revealed it. When he understood who he was and where he came from his eyes became opened to the injustices that were being carried out on his people, the Israelites. They were slaves of the Egyptians."

When the boy came to understand the meaning of the word, he had to ask. "Was I a slave?"

The question stumped the ranch baron. He wasn't quite sure how to answer it. "Let me ask you this. You worked for Circle Jay, correct?"

"Yes."

"Were you paid? Did you ever walk away with any money?"

"No. Master Jay said I wouldn't know what to do with money if I had it. He was right of course."

"Well, that's beside the point. That's no fault of your own. How are you supposed to learn how to use money if no one ever teaches you? You weren't family with any of them? Related at all?"

"I don't think so. I belonged to Master Jay."

"Belonged to him?"

"That's what Mister Simon said to Pete when we first met. He said, this boy belongs to you now. Then when I got to the ranch Master Jay said I work for him."

"Well, that doesn't always mean slave. Sometimes people just use those words and phrases. Throw them around." The boy scrunched his brows and lowered his head as he took in this tidbit. "Let me ask you one more question." He added at the boy's conflict. "Did you ever feel like you were free to leave? Walk away whenever you wanted to?" He thought about the game they used to play. Then about being told how he would be hung if he ever tried to leave outside of the game's parameters. Being lifted off his feet by the whip encircling his neck. That feeling of not being able to draw breath. He answered with an ill shake of the head. "I think in your case." "Especially considering how you were treated, that Jay took it to mean exactly that. I think that by the very definition of the word, that was what you were." The boy wasn't sure how to feel about this news. In some way, it validated his pain. In another, it lessened him as a person.

"Am I free to leave here?" That question seemed to frighten the elder.

"Do you want to?" He answered in a controlled manner putting it right back into the lap of the boy.

Choice was something the boy never had before. The freedom to choose one's own fate. Yet another thing, he wouldn't know what to do with if he had it. This was a place of safety for him. He couldn't see the sense in leaving, especially not having a place to go. He shook his head.

"I think we better call it a night."

The boy laid in bed thinking over that conversation. Many thoughts ran through. Among them, he thought of this long-lost historical figure. There was a connection that Dirt shared with him. It was in the not knowing who he truly was. Where he belonged.

It wasn't until days later that Hendrick ventured to continue this lesson. Ana took on a more active role into the storytelling. She seemed excited in the way she told it. As if she was reciting some memory of her own past.

"You see, God appointed Moses to take His people away. He had escaped with them, into the thousands. The Egyptians did not want to give up their workforce so easily. They deployed soldiers into the thousands to hunt them down. They'd face a fate worse than death if caught."

The boy listened with compelling interest.

"Through miles and miles of desert land; men, women, and children ran; doing their very best to put some distance between them and their pursuers. They had been brought to the shore of the Red Sea and here they found that they could go no further. They had no boats, and the river was too wide and too deep to cross. They were stuck."

Dirt all at once didn't like this story.

"The people were frightened. For what would the Egyptians do once they got them back in their grasps? They would be tortured and even killed. The people cried out in desperation, angry now at the man who had only tried to save them. What was all this for? It would have been better to have never left. Why did he drag them out? Now the fates of these piteous creatures had been sealed. But Moses never lost faith. He knew the Lord God was on their side. Standing on a high rock, Moses turned to the sea and prayed. Then he raised his staff in the air and called upon Him to help. The most amazing thing happened then, you'll never guess. God had parted the sea in two. The people stood in awe and amazement. For what they saw had no natural explanation. They were staring at two grand walls of water hundreds of feet high and dry ground between. They were in such a state of shock that they had to be encouraged to go in."

"And they all made it safely across?"

"It took a while to get every last man in and then safe to the other side, but they made it. The Egyptians were still hot in pursuit. As the last man was coming out the Egyptian soldiers arrived at the bank. Seeing that they too had safe passage, though hardly understanding the miracle before them, they forged in."

"Did they catch them?"

"God had waited until every last soldier was in before he closed up the walls and the sea was made whole once again. Swallowed them all up. Every last soldier gone."

~.~

Both Mick and Ana loved to talk about the Bible. In fact, much of his reading was to be learned from that book.

Dirt liked to learn. These stories were fascinating to him. But the way that Hendrick and Calderon would talk was as if there was more to these stories than what happened in history. These stories came to life for him. There was a love behind them. A greater love. The kind of love that transforms you. The boy wanted to feel that love, but it eluded him. He strove for it. Thought the more he learned the closer he would get to it, but it didn't happen. He was stuck on, if God truly loved him than why did he make him suffer so much? He was selfish and spoiled for thinking this way, he knew; for the others told him that God had a plan.

Delphe used to talk about the Bible too. She didn't know as many stories as Miss Calderon told. There were many more stories she told that he'd never heard before. Sometimes he'd wonder if Miss Calderon was inventing the stories like Delphe used to when she didn't know them herself.

Charles didn't talk as much about religious matters as the others. He went out one day to ask him what he thought of it. Did they both really know as much as they were letting on?

"Hendrick has chosen to take on the quieter life in his later years, but you should remember where he'd come from. He has travelled the world and has become well learned on many fronts."

"What about Miss Calderon?"

"Don't let her quietude fool you. She's a smart one too. She knows three languages boy. Salish which is the language of the Tillamook, Spanish which was her father's language and English."

"So, does that mean these stories are true?"

"Well, if you're a Christian, you believe them."

"Do you believe them?"

He thought a moment, then answered. "Yes. I suppose I do."

"What's a Christian?"

"Someone who believes in the Bible and follows it's word."

"Are you a Christian?"

"Well, I don't know."

"But you believe in the Bible."

He snickered. "You got me there."

"So that makes you a Christian, doesn't it?"

"I think there's more to it than that."

"Like what?" He stopped working then and found a seat on the porch urging the boy to join him.

"Did you know that there's a place people go to learn about the bible?" The boy was surprised at this news. "Oh yes. Every Sunday, people gather in this building. They call it a church."

"Where is it?

"There's many. They're all over. A few in Astoria in fact."

"Can I go?" He asked excitedly.

Without answering he continued. "They learn about these Christian values and are told that they have to go out and practice what they've been taught. Though they have great lessons, lessons in which Mister Hendrick and Miss Calderon are trying to teach you, these teachings somehow have gotten lost on some of these regular attendees. This place of gather has become more like a social club. A place for those with status to fluff up their feathers and perch in hopes that others would admire them for their beauty in attending. While others with pure hearts and pure intentions are shunned because they don't meet the social standards. Born of a heathen race or owning a watering hole."

The boy caught on. "Ana Calderon and Micky Hendrick. Is that why they don't go?" Charles answered with a short smile.

"While these others, these social climbers go home and commit some of the worst atrocities upon their fellow men." Dirt considered these words. "Jason Morgan is one of these attendees."

The fear of him crashed this world around him. Suddenly, church didn't seem like a place he wanted to go anymore.

He dwelled on Charles's words the entire day.

How someone as cruel as Jay was sitting aside these others acting like the best of saints. The difference between Jason Morgan and Mick Hendrick. Two ranchers on opposite ends. Who was the sinner and who was the saint?

At the table that night, he was in his head thinking over Charles's words.

Jay would preach to his employees the values of family. That he wanted them all to view themselves as family. Even though he wasn't as cruel to the others as he was to him, the employees could never really see themselves in that light.

With only the three of them the relationship seemed almost intimate. The three of them sitting around the dining table for supper every evening. Almost like a real family. Almost.

Something was off in this. It wasn't the fact that they weren't blood related. No. Something was missing. Absent from the equation. Or rather someone. The man outside. Though not in the dire straits that he was once in, he felt the sin of exclusion all the same.

"What's on your mind boy?" Hendrick could see he was troubled.

"Why doesn't Charles eat with us?" The maiden stopped as she was pulling a bite to her mouth.

"Well," Mister Hendrick answered. "He's just a hand. The hands don't eat at the table."

"Why not?"

"Because there's not enough room. If I let one eat in here, I'd have to let them all."

"But there is no one else." Miss Calderon snickered. "It's just him."

"Right now, it is. What about when the season starts, and I have to hire on more men?"

"Don't you think he's sad eating out there all by his lonesome?"

"Oh," Hendrick gruffed. "I don't think so. It's what hands do." The answer didn't settle well with the boy and Hendrick saw it. "What? You don't agree?"

"It's just, I remember what it feels like to be left out. Hidden away. It doesn't feel good." This revelation panged the old man's heart. Still, he tried one more time.

"I don't think we have enough food here for him." but his argument had been deflated.

"I'd rather give him half of mine."

"Oh, there's no need to do that. I made plenty." Miss Calderon offered.

"Well." Hendrick announced flummoxed, "I guess we're inviting him in. You want to go get him boy?" He moved to jump up but stopped as he considered.

"Respectfully sir, I think it might mean what it should if you went and got him yourself."

Miss Calderon snickered again in amusement. This boy had a way around this old man's heart. He wiggled his way in and around like no other could. Like a pest, like a parasite, like a cute little adorable worm.

"Well, I guess that's settled. Madam. If you'll excuse me for a moment." He bowed before scooting his chair back.

He came back in alone. At the boys hurt, he announced. "The guest is washing up and preparing for supper." These words bringing about a huge smile from the boy. Even Miss Calderon was smiling.

A few moments later as they sat around the table, once hot food losing its vigor a knock sounded.

"Mister Hendrick." The hand greeted. "Much grateful for the invite." He nodded and bowed and then again to the room and once more to Miss Calderon." He was dressed in a slick blue flannel button down. Hair combed to one side. Cleanest pants he had which only suffered a couple days wear since their last washing and leather work boots.

"Yes. Yes. Fine."

"I must say it came as quite a surprise. I really wasn't prepared at all."

~.~

From that day forward, Charles became a permanent fixture around the supper table, as welcome as a cool breeze on a warm summer night. And now their family was complete. Hendrick taking on the role of guider, protector. He was father to the boy, the father he never had (although Hendrick was old enough to be his grandfather). Charles was about the right age to be his father, but he didn't quite take on the role in that capacity, not like Hendrick had. He kept to the ranch mostly but was kind enough to help the boy along in ways the hands at Circle Jay's never had. Charles was more like a friend, a wiser, older buddy. But when they sat at the dinner table and the boy would look around at each one, they still reminded him of a family, and he would get off to imagining that Charles and Ana were like his mommy and poppy and Mister Hendrick was his grand pappy. Three strangers, four strangers which time and fate had brought together. Four pieces to make a whole and that was alright by him. This place was warm, loving, and they'd get off to sharing tales, telling stories and laughing.