Date: Sun, 21 Oct 2007 23:30:23 -0700 From: Jon Hold Subject: Other Little House 33-End Chapter 33 A Day in Town Brent and I, leaving Sam to Oleg's tender mercies, headed over to Mr. Mendoza's saddle shop. Mr. Mendoza got up from his work and came over to greet us. He called for his son and gave me a huge hug. I was surprised, but hugged him right back. He was a nice person and I both liked and respected him. Jose came into the room and hugged both Brent and me. What the heck happened to the painfully shy kid I'd met my last time in town? This guy was radiant. Pleased to see us again and not reticent to show it. Mr. Mendoza laughed at his son's exuberance, and proudly put his arm around the boy's shoulder. Jose was very nearly as tall as his father. Brent explained that he had a bunch of new hands coming to the ranch and he needed to have chaps and whatever other leatherwork they needed made for them and that he wanted Mr. Mendoza to come out to the ranch so everyone didn't have to come to town. Mr. Mendoza looked both uncomfortable and embarrassed. Jose stepped forward and explained his father's discomfiture. "My father owes you both a huge debt of gratitude. The story of the show you put on to show off the tack my father made, and the salute you gave him has traveled wide and far. My father has received many orders for special saddles and other tack. Some from as far away as Kansas City. He has many commitments and cannot properly take any time away from promises he has already made." "Hey. That's okay. I'm glad you guys are being kept so busy." Brent said. Mr. Mendoza broke in. "What my son says is so. I have made many commitments that I must keep. But what you want is chaps and maybe vests or some repairs to saddles and such?" "Yes." Brent said. "But we understand. We'll just send the guys into town a couple at a time and they can stay at the hotel until you can work them into your schedule." "That will not be unnecessary." Mr. Mendoza said, confusing all of us. "Everything you want is well within the abilities of a trained Journeyman. My son is now qualified to be a Journeyman. And I would be proud to have his first independent job be for two such fine men as yourselves." "Poppa?" the obviously confused Jose said. "I have been waiting for a good time to tell you, my son. You have worked hard and learned well. It is time you earned money of your own." "Poppa!" Jose cried out, tears dripping from his eyes as he grabbed his father and gave him a huge hug. Mr. Mendoza tried to excuse his son's outburst but really couldn't be heard over Brent and me applauding and clapping the both of them on the back in congratulations. Arrangements were quickly made for Jose and all the tools and materials he would need to accompany us back to the ranch. Jose and I got so excited that we were sent out back to calm down. I congratulated Jose and he was as proud and excited as a just-turned-into-a-man boy could be, which was plenty. He told me how indebted to me he felt. Sam had indeed turned out to be a good friend, getting him involved with the other town kids and talking with him about "stuff." Brent came out back and told Jose his father wanted to see him. Jose tried to thank Brent for being so kind and for accepting an untried person such as himself. "Nonsense!" Brent said. "I would be proud to accept any journeyman that your father had trained. That you are his son only reassures me that he knows that you are fully qualified." Jose gave Brent a quick hug and ran inside to his father. I grinned at Brent and he grinned back and put his arm around my shoulder and headed me towards Papa Rand's mercantile store. We walked into the Rand Mercantile laughing and joking with our arms around each other. There was a young man sitting behind the counter. A stranger! Brent let go and stepped in front of me. "Who are you and where is Papa... uh... Mr. Rand!" he challenged. The young guy looked up from the book he was reading and looked at Brent, and me --- peeking out from behind his broad shoulder. A big grin spread across his face. "Hi, brothers!" he almost laughed out. Then, turning his head over his shoulder to the living quarters behind the curtain behind him, "Grandpa! Brent and Jason are here!" Papa came bustling out of the back room, wiping food off his mouth. A quick look at the puzzled looks on our faces and then another quick look at the impish grin on the young man's face and Papa had the boy by the ear, twisting just enough to get the kid off the stool and up on his tip-toes. Papa led him, with no regard for the tender structure of the human ear, around the counter and over in front of us. "Jason! My lovely child. Won't you do a feeble old man a favor and take this young scamp out back and beat some respect into his worthless self. His 'jokes' are about to ruin my business!" The boy was hanging on with both hands for all he was worth and dancing on his toe tips, but still had a grin on his face. Brent and I looked at each other and realized at the same moment just exactly where we'd seen that same exact grin and glint in the eyes. The boy had exactly inherited his grandfathers wicked sense of humor. We both burst out laughing. "What!" Papa demanded in outrage. That made Brent and I laugh all the harder, doubling over in glee. Mama came out just then, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, saving her grandsons ear, protecting Brent and I and calming down her husband --- all at the same time and apparently without effort. She got us all in the parlor and served cookies still hot from the oven with ice cold buttermilk and poured fresh, scalding hot tea into Papa's glass. We were made to tell everything we'd been up to since our last visit to town. We got introduced to Aaron, Papa's grandson and Jacob, Aaron's father as well as two of Arron's uncles, Issac and Uri. After much gossip and a wonderful dinner, Brent and I told Papa what was going on and we talked about everything we were going to need to set up the new facilities for our new hands and that led to a discussion of Brent's business plans, his improvement of the herds and his ideas on land management. Arron mostly kept quiet and listened, but seemed like he was about ready to explode, giving his father and grandfather any number of pointed looks. Papa Rand finally relented. "So? With all this, you're going to pay these men and keep track of your herds and your costs and earnings --- what? Out of a shoebox maybe?" "Well, Papa," Brent said. "I think Jason can do a bit better than that, but, then again, I think that maybe you have something else in mind. Care to tell us what it is, or maybe you'd rather beat around the bush until it's nice and dead?" Everybody laughed at that. Everybody except Aaron, that is. Aaron looked like he might pass out from holding his breath. "Well," said Papa, loathe to just come right out and say what was on his mind, "perhaps I have a grandson who is not impressed with his own family's business's. Perhaps he'd rather be a cowboy and live in the wild and risk his life with things no one in his family has had experience with in eight hundred years. And perhaps his brothers could find a place with him so that he would quit pestering his poor, weak old Grandpa half to death." "And perhaps his poor old grandfather will drive us all crazy!" Jacob said. "Brent, Jason... what my father is trying so hard to not say is that my son has a dream. Has spent his whole life, what little of it he has lived, wanting to live on a ranch and be a part of that life. I would ask you, as the son of a man you respect, to consider giving my son a chance to realize his dream. He has been trained in languages, history, accounting and bookkeeping and is a good, honest boy. You need not pay him until he proves his worth, but I ask you to consider giving him a chance." Brent and I looked at each other and Brent nodded. I looked at Aaron. "Is this what you want?" Aaron went white and I thought his tightening grip might crush the arms of the chair he was sitting in. He didn't even try to speak, he just nodded 'Yes'. Brent looked Aaron up and down, his skinny, small body --- and his crippled leg. Then he looked at Jacob, sitting there with the calm of the universe surrounding him, and finally at Papa. "Papa. Do you want this thing?" Papa looked at Brent, at me and then back at Brent. "That is for you and Jason to decide." "Papa! Is this what you want?" Taking a deep breath --- and then sighing. "Yes, Brent. It would make my old heart happy to know that the boy at least had a chance at his dream." "Then it's settled." said Brent. " Are his clothes packed?" Aaron leapt into the air, yelling in triumph. The chair he'd been sitting in flew backwards into a glass doored cabinet, or, what HAD been a glass doored cabinet before the chair got there. "Oy!" his grandfather said, resting his head on his hand as if his head was suddenly too heavy to hold up. "Three months he's been home --- he's never Unpacked! Just asks me a dozen times a day, 'when are they coming to town, Grandpa.' 'When are they going to be here, Grandpa?' 'Soon, Grandpa?' OY! He's making me CRAZY!" After much talk, and a certain amount of crying on Mama's part, it was decided that Aaron would go back with Brent and I with the first load and Papa would send his sons to help when everything we were going to need, stove, cooking utensils, and large quantities of both dry and hard goods, had been collected. The next four days were frantic, what with Oleg and Sam getting ready to make all the nails and other iron needed for the new buildings... and all the other details that had to be arranged. Sam and Angel's marriage was to be in about three months, right after harvest. We would all return to town for the wedding and a final decision on Aaron working at the ranch would be made at that time. It was quite a procession that left town. Me and Brent on Dancer and Blackhawk, Aaron driving the mule team (Beau, in his perverse mule mind, had decided that he LIKED Aaron --- who made a great point of wondering why I had so much trouble with such a gentle and loving animal). Sam and Oleg were in Oleg's wagon loaded with iron, portable forge and tools. Jose, riding a small Mexican mustang his father had given him, leading a mare mule loaded with enough leather and tools to make her walk funny was smiling with eagerness. Angel rode with us part of the way and I lent Dancer to Sam so he could ride with her and share a little private time away from the rest of us. I sat next to Oleg and was musing about the mans powerful body when, out of the blue, he asked me if I thought it would be okay if he lent Sam to Brent so that Oleg and I could spend the night together sometime... alone. I looked Oleg up and down and remembered the butt pounding that he and his brother had given me and told him that whatever Brent and Sam wanted to do was between them, but that I'd love to spend the night in bed with him, or anywhere else he wanted to take me. Oleg grinned and did a pretty fair imitation of a man who had just found a $1,000 bill. There was one other addition to our happy crew that I haven't mentioned yet. We had dinner at Sing Hop's "Palace of the Jade Dragon" restaurant one evening. Hop and his wife had turned the old building I'd bought them into a truly beautiful restaurant with Chinese screens, lanterns and wall hangings as well as the tasteful and effective use of much paint. They had a dedicated clientele that was steadily growing as the town grew and became more civilized. Two more nephews of Lee Po's, cousins of Sing Hop, had shown up and were helping run the restaurant. Sing Ho acted as our personal waiter and wouldn't let either of his larger cousins serve us. Now eleven, Ho was a strong, chunky boy with a happy, outgoing manner and an infectious sense of quietly understated humor (in a HEAVY Chinese accent, "Oh, so sorry, Honorable Sam. We get you wider chair your butt get so big.") Sam, Ho and Jose had taken to being friends and spending whatever free time they had together. Ho, being smallest, pretty much did what the bigger boys wanted to do, but had ways of making sure they remembered that he had a mind of his own. In any case, he managed to convince everyone that he should go along to make sure that the kitchen for the new "men" was properly run. Somehow, I got the feeling that the decision for Sing Ho to join our happy crew was made before anyone except him knew anything about his plans. Sing Ho was sitting on the other side of Oleg, proving that he could drive Oleg's team of draft horses, no matter that he was small, smiling like he didn't have a care in the world. Oleg was doing his best to sit there all innocent like. As if the thick arm draped around Sing Ho's shoulders was just there in friendship, and not to keep the team of huge draft horses from jerking the small lad clean out of the wagon seat. Sam was much subdued when Angel headed home and he returned Dancer to me. I gave him a quick hug in commiseration, and then left him alone until he wanted to talk later. It was a quiet, yet happy trip to the ranch. Each of us in his own way looking forward to what life would bring. Chapter 34 Spreading the Spread Everyone approved of the high bluff in the bend of the river that had been selected for the new ranch buildings. Excitement ran high as supplies were unloaded and worksites set up. Comments and suggestions about the size, placement and construction of the various buildings ran rife with one idea after another bursting forth. There would be no lack of energy on this project. As evening neared talk turned to dealing with ravenous bellies. Sing Ho came out from behind a screen of huckleberry bushes and told everyone to hurry up or he was going to throw dinner to the dog. We quickly followed our diminutive chef and discovered a clearing with several naturally fallen trees for seating, a large pot of stew, several pans of wonderful smelling cornbread and a large mongrel dog who was guarding the goodies. No one ever figured out where that dog came from, but it was obvious from the first that he listened to Sing Ho and no one else, and had a rather narrow view of how he expected Sing Ho to be treated. As the dog outweighed Sing Ho by about thirty pounds, none of us was willing to try him on his resolve to protect Sing Ho OR the food. Sing Ho just told the dog to go lay down, and the dog promptly did so, his vigilant eyes leaving no doubt in anyones mind about the inadvisability of messing about with the mongrels new master. Dinner disappeared quickly and the diners helped with clean-up before pairing up and heading off to sleep. After a period of rustling in the bushes and a certain amount of noisemaking, things quieted down and only snores disturbed the placid peace of the evening and were observed by an old mongrel dog laying next to the small Chinese boy he trusted. Almost two weeks of hard labor showed a remarkable change in the bluff overhanging the river. Sing Ho's clearing now contained a well appointed kitchen that formed a short upright to the wide "T" of the dining room. Solid shutters closed the eight-pane windows that marched in close proximity down the long outside wall of the board floored dining area. Trestle tables and benches provided seating for the hungry crews that would come. The shutters could be lifted and propped open with notched supports giving a panoramic view of the river, forest and miles of uninterrupted prairie. It was not unknown for diners to get lost in the view and forget what they were supposed to be doing with Sing Ho's wonderful food. The young boy had a remarkable way of providing the meat-and-potatoes sort of food the cowboys and hands were used to, but managed to incorporate enough of the Chinese wisdom with herbs and spices and vegetables that everyone was rapidly learning to accept a much wider range of eatables than they had ever imagined possible. The results were a healthier and happier work crew that eagerly looked forward to their next "dining experience." An old man, name of "Tobi" wandered into camp and deferentially asked if he might have something to eat and, almost hopelessly, did they have any work where a man might earn his keep. Obviously one of the unneeded fringe members of the rough pioneer society, the old man would wander until, for one reason or mishap or another, he would die. Without even consulting Jason, Sing Ho hired the old man to help him in the kitchen. After lunch the next day Sing Ho began defending his decision to Jason and the other grown-ups. Jason cut him off in mid-explanation. As far as Jason was concerned Sing Ho was in charge of the kitchen and if he wanted a mangy old dog and a rickety old man to help him, that was his choice and no one else's. The brave eleven-year-old was having none of that and responded loudly to Jason's teasing. He was soon joined by deep, deep bass barking and a great show of dog fangs as well as much wooden spoon waving by the old man. Everyone else was laughing fit-to-be-tied. But the old man and mongrel dog stayed, and are buried right there behind the kitchen. Sing Ho still waters the flowers on their graves every day. As for the rest of us, we've gotten older, if not wiser. The ranch did well through the depression and the wars and everything else. We've sort of moved at our own pace, in our own reality most of the time. Boys on their own heard about us one place or another and over the years a pretty steady stream of kids has come to the ranch and ended up calling it home. We've got teachers and classrooms, and some of our best teachers never go near a classroom, preferring a branding corral or barnyard for the lessons they have to teach. There's a younger, smarter, better educated bunch running the ranch now, and I hope it will go on forever. I sit here on the porch Brent built for me, remembering, and talking into this recorder thing. Brent's grave is right there in Dancer's pasture, where I can see it from the porch. I'm the last of the old bunch, 'cept for Sing Ho, and we're sort of just waiting to join our friends up there beyond the fleecy clouds that adorn the wide green and blue and distant hazy gray beyond the other little house on the prairie. In Memorium, Jason and Brent Bodiene-Robinson. A truer love was never known on this wide prairie.