Pea Eye was crouched in the creek when he heard the horses coming. He was nervous; it might be the vaqueros who had killed Ted Plunkert, in which case he would be easy pickings. His hip was paining him terribly, and he couldn’t walk. Running him to ground would be an easy thing. He cocked the big shotgun, got out his pistol, and put his rifle near at hand. Of course, the horses had been rather far away; perhaps they would pass him by. But he had to be ready, in case they didn’t. Famous Shoes had promised to go tell Lorena where he was, but Famous Shoes was not entirely to be counted on.
When he drove off Joey Garza, Pea Eye had felt elated. The odds looked good that he would live to see his wife and children again. But, in the long nights and long days, his confidence had slowly ebbed. He could scarcely move, and he had lost considerable blood. He had nothing to bandage himself with, and no way to go toward Lorena. He could only wait and hope; and as he waited, feeling weaker by the hour, his hope began to fail. He tried to hold up—after all, he was alive and he had driven off the young bandit—but despite himself, deep fears assailed him. It might be that in leaving home to come with the Captain, he had made a mistake that was too serious to correct. He had left his family, and the penalty for that might be a bitter end. He might have to die without speaking to them again. His deepest wish was to be able to make his feelings into words, words that could travel across the distances into the minds of his wife and his children. He wanted them to know his regret. If there was some way they could know how he felt, then dying would not be as bad. But he couldn’t do that. The regret was with him, and the distances were real and they were great.
Pea Eye pulled a piece of horsemeat out of his shirt and began to gnaw on it. Several times in the days since Famous Shoes left, he had begun to give up and then had pulled himself back from giving up. He must not give up; Lorena would expect better of him than that. It was hard to choke the dry horsemeat down, but he had to try. He had to take what nourishment he could, to give himself the best chance if there was another fight.
Pea put the strip of horsemeat down for a moment in order to ease himself a little farther back against the creek bank. His hip pained him so that he dreaded any movement. The horses had come quite near. He only heard two. Their slow hoofbeats gave him the feeling that he was being hunted. He had the shotgun tilted upward. When he tried to sit up straighter, his hip hurt so badly that he passed out for a few seconds. He had done that once before on his long walk in Montana. He had passed out from hunger and fatigue, even as he kept walking. As he walked, he had the sense that Deets, the black cowboy, had come back from the dead to guide him. This time, though, he was not walking—he was only hoping to sit up straighter so as to get off a good shot at whoever approached, in case they were enemies. He took one hand off the gun for a second to pick up the piece of horsemeat and put it back in his shirt. It was no time to be eating, but he didn’t want to waste the food, either.
Listening hard, Pea determined that there were four horses coming, not two. That was a bad sign, and it frightened him. He got the strong sense that the horsemen were hunters and that he was the hunted.
Then, before he could even stick the meat back inside his shirt, he saw Lorena, his wife, standing not ten feet from him. It was a miracle—it was as if the sky had opened up and dropped her into the little creek. It was Lorena, not a ghost. It was his wife.
“Why, honey, you found me,” he said. He rarely called Lorena by such sweet names; only on her birthday sometimes, or maybe Christmas.
Lorena walked over and took the heavy gun from Pea Eye’s hand.
“Would you take this?” she said, handing the gun to Billy Williams, who was only a step behind her.
“You came all this way and found me . . . and it’s winter, too,” Pea said to her, astonished as he always was that Lorena cared to bother with him.
Lorena had paused in the creek a moment, watching Pea Eye, before he saw her. The big gun was cocked, and she was afraid that if she startled him he might accidentally shoot her. Pea looked bad. One side of his face was caked with blood, though probably he had just scratched himself with a bloody hand. He looked very thin, and his face was twisted in pain. The bad hip wound hurt him with every movement, she could see.
But here was her husband, and he was alive.
“Why wouldn’t I—we’re married!” Lorena replied. Then she took the awful piece of meat out of his hand, knelt close to him, being careful not to bump his bad hip, and took him into her arms. It was the luckiest thing in her life, that she found him in time. The children would not be without him, and neither would she.
“We’re taking you home, Pea,” Lorena said. “There won’t be no more of this fighting, not for you.”
“No, I’m done with it, somebody else will have to do it,” Pea Eye replied.
12.
JOEY RODE BACK almost to Ojinaga before he stopped to hide. His wounds had begun to hurt, and he knew they would only hurt worse, unless he could find someone to dig out the shot. He could not do it himself, for all his wounds were on his back and legs. He had pellets in his neck and pellets all the way to his calves. He had carefully cleaned out the deputies’ camp; there might be medicine in the saddlebags. But he had had to abandon it all when the old deputy came running at him with the big shotgun.
Joey hated the old deputy. It was absurd that a man so old would attack him. He should have shot him and the other deputy long before with his rifle, when they had been traveling on the plain. He could have done it easily, and he should have. Killing their animals, scaring them, and trying to drive them into the desert to starve had all been foolish actions. He should have just killed them. But he had never supposed that one of them would be crazy enough to charge him; even the great Captain Call himself had not charged him. Neither had he supposed that he himself would be so stupid as to overlook a loaded gun. During all his months as a robber, he had been careful and had made no mistakes. The fact that he made no mistakes added to his reputation—it terrified people. They thought of Joey Garza as the bandit who made no mistakes.
But then he had made one, and a bad one. The old deputy had looked a fool, and he had looked incompetent. But he had not been a fool or incompetent. The shotgun had been the deputy’s only chance, and he had remembered it and used it. The pellets making poison in his blood were his payment for being foolish. He had underestimated the old man. The Apaches rarely underestimated anyone. They knew that any living man might be dangerous if desperate enough.
Joey felt rage at the deputy, but he also felt rage at himself. Three or four more steps and the lawman would have killed him outright; he might still die if his wounds were not treated and cleaned.
But he was alive, and if he lived, he meant to return and kill the old deputy and Famous Shoes, too. Thinking over the battle, he remembered that Famous Shoes had stopped right by the body where the gun lay. He had shown the old man right where to run. Otherwise, Joey would have had ample time to get his rifle and kill the old fool. Probably the deputy had paid him well, for everyone knew that Famous Shoes liked money.
Before he went back to finish the old lawman, Joey had to get his wounds cleaned. He wanted his mother to do it. When she had done it and he was safe from infection, he would show her what she was worth by taking his brother and sister. He would not have time to take them to the cave and throw them off the cliff. They would receive a quicker death. He might drown them or kill them with rocks. Then he would go back and finish off the old deputy and Famous Shoes as well.
Joey was watching his mother’s house when Billy Williams and the blond woman rode away. It surprised him that the blond woman had come to his mother’s house and that she was still there. She must have brought the old Ranger to his mother.
Joey saw Billy lead the blond woman and two extra horses up the river he had just ridden down. They were going to get the old deputy, no doubt of that. Famous Shoes had already told him that the blond woman belonged to the deputy. He didn’t know why they were taking an ex
tra horse, though. The old deputy might be dead—Joey knew he had hit him at least twice—but if he was alive, he could only ride one horse.
He watched through his spyglass. Joey could have followed Billy Williams and the woman and killed them, but he didn’t. His wounds hurt too much. His back and legs felt as if they had been skinned. He knew his mother would have to cut his clothes off, for they were stuck to him from all the bleeding.
Joey saw his mother come out of the house to watch Billy and the blond woman leave. He watched it all through his spyglass from a mile away. He saw that Famous Shoes was there as well, for he came out of the house carrying a blanket that Joey had left in his camp. When Joey saw the blanket, he grew angrier and angrier. He had never liked it when people took his things, and he had certainly not made Famous Shoes a gift of his blanket. The old Indian had simply taken it. Perhaps he believed that Joey would soon die from the shotgun wounds. Joey had known the old man all his life and had neither liked him nor disliked him. The old Indian was crazy; he came and went, walking all over the place for no reason. Often he disappeared into the Madre. When Joey had been a prisoner of the Apaches, Famous Shoes had sometimes come to their camp. The Apaches thought he was crazy too; otherwise, they would have killed him. They didn’t like Kickapoo.
Famous Shoes had finally decided to hurry home to the Madre. He had told Billy Williams just where to find the wounded man. He had no more business in Ojinaga, or any town, for that matter. He wanted to go to the high mountains where he could track the great eagles with his eyes. Once when he was young he had trapped an eagle, killed it, and eaten its eyes, hoping the vision of the eagles would be his. In tracking, he needed to see things so small that his human eyes couldn’t find them. He thought the eagle’s eyes might help, but the effort was a disappointment. His eyes did not improve, and worse, the meal made him sick. But he forgave the eagles. It was not their fault that he had been foolish enough to hope that he could see with their eyes. He liked to sit on rocks and watch the eagles swoop far down, out of sight into the shadows of the deep valleys, to catch what they wanted to eat.
Famous Shoes left Ojinaga at a good trot, for he wanted to hurry home to the Madre. But he had not gone far before he saw a familiar track in front of him. It was the track of Joey Garza’s horse. Famous Shoes immediately turned north. He wanted to go as far around Joey Garza as possible. Joey might have changed his mind, and he might be in the mood to kill him now.
He had gone only a few miles north when, to his dismay, the track of Joey’s horse appeared in front of him again. Joey, too, was going north. Famous Shoes thought he had made a mistake in leaving Ojinaga so soon. He immediately turned and started back for the village. Joey was evidently not as badly wounded as he had supposed. It would be better to stay in the village for a few days, until Joey left or died.
But he had gone only a mile back toward the village when he saw the track of Joey’s horse in front of him once more. Famous Shoes didn’t think the horse was wandering loose and just appearing in front of him every time he turned. Once, Joey had let him look briefly through the great eye he carried with him, the spyglass. The great eye was even stronger than the eyes of eagles. With it, Famous Shoes could see all the signs he had been hoping to see when he trapped the eagle. But Joey had only let him look for a moment, and then he tied the great eye back on his saddle. If Pea Eye had managed to kill Joey, Famous Shoes meant to ask him if he could have the great eye. It would help him in his work.
That hadn’t happened, though. Now Joey was angry, and the young killer was stalking him. Famous Shoes saw no point in walking any farther. If he was going to be killed, he might as well rest. He had done a great deal of walking since he had left for the Rio Rojo. There was no point in turning again, since Joey would just turn too, and appear ahead of him. It had been a mistake to take his blanket, for Joey might resent it. But Famous Shoes had seen the blast from the big shotgun knock Joey off his feet, and he had seen the second blast hit him when he jumped for his horse. Famous Shoes didn’t think a man could live long with so much lead in him. Lead was bad for the blood. Joey was young and strong and he might yet die, but so far, he was lasting.
Famous Shoes was sitting on Joey’s blanket, singing the Kickapoo death song, when Joey appeared on his horse. From the front Joey looked well, but when he dismounted, Famous Shoes saw that the boy’s whole back was raw. Much of his shirt had been driven into his body from the impact of the pellets. Pea Eye had shot him pretty good, just as Famous Shoes had thought. The lead would soon poison Joey’s blood unless he got it out. It might already be too late.
But Joey had his pistol in his hand, and Famous Shoes kept singing. It was his bad luck that the pellets were not killing Joey more quickly. It meant that he himself would have to die. He saw no point in holding a conversation with the young Mexican; it was better just to sing. He thought an eagle might come and take his song to the Madre for him. Famous Shoes sang loudly, for he wanted the eagles to hear him if there were any around.
Joey walked close to him and held his pistol to the old Indian’s head.
“Get off my blanket,” he said. “And give me back my knife.”
Famous Shoes moved off the blanket, but he kept singing. He took Joey’s knife from his belt and handed it to him. He looked to the sky to see if any eagles were coming, but he saw no eagles. He thought of asking Joey if he could look through the great eye one more time. He thought if he looked through it, he might see where his spirit would be going when Joey shot him. But Joey did not like to lend his things, and he was not in any mood to allow Famous Shoes a few minutes with the great eye.
Famous Shoes sang his death song loudly. He wanted to send his spirit far away on the sound. He had been in the Valley of Echoes once, in the country of the Utes, and he knew that sound could travel far and live on in echoes, even after the person or the animal who made the sound was dead. He had once seen Ben Lily shoot a bear. The bear had not been shot well, and its cries traveled far away as it was dying. Famous Shoes wanted his spirit to float high on his song; perhaps an eagle would pass and hear it and take it to the Madre.
As Famous Shoes was waiting for the bullet, singing proudly, Joey Garza turned away and got back on his horse. He had come to Famous Shoes with a cold face, the face of a boy who could kill and not think about it. But once he got his blanket and his knife, Joey’s face changed. He tied the blanket back on his saddle and got on his horse. He turned his horse toward Ojinaga and didn’t speak again.
Famous Shoes was so startled that he went on singing. He sang until Joey was out of sight. He found it hard to stop singing his death song, for he had already turned loose of his spirit and sent it away. It was hard to have to recall it and go on living. His spirit was far above him and it was reluctant to come back. Joey had been about to pull the trigger, but he had changed his mind. It was quite puzzling. Joey killed as easily as he himself walked. Yet in this case, he had changed his mind and had simply ridden off. Famous Shoes stopped singing, finally, but he did not get up for a while. He had to wait for his spirit to come back; it came slowly, like a bird fluttering down.
When his spirit was back with him, Famous Shoes stood up—but he did not turn toward the Madre. He followed Joey’s track, which went toward Ojinaga. He knew it was not safe; after all, Joey might change his mind again. His cold mood might return when he remembered that Famous Shoes had signaled Pea Eye where the big shotgun was, the shotgun that had driven lead and cloth into Joey’s body, sickening his blood.
But Famous Shoes was curious. He wanted to know what Joey was doing, and he wanted another look through the great eye. If he followed and waited, he might get to see through the great eye again.
13.
JOEY HEADED TOWARD Ojinaga and his mother, for he wanted to make her take the pellets out of his body. He felt sick, so sick that he had lost interest in killing the old Indian. The wounds were like fire. They were making him feel so bad that he had lost his pride in killing. Joey had never ex
pected to be injured himself, certainly not by an old man who could scarcely shoot a rifle. He felt such weakness in his body that he had difficulty mounting his horse; he could not waste his strength killing crazy old men. Once his mother had cleaned his wounds and he was well again, he would dispose of Rafael and Teresa. Then he would have his pride back. No more would he overlook loaded guns; he would no longer make mistakes. He thought he might go back near the City of Mexico and rob more trains. It would be nice to take some silver and some jewels back to his cave.
Soon after Lorena and Billy Williams left the village, the shoemaker came for Maria. His name was Jorge, and he had a very young wife—too young, Maria thought. Her name was Negra. Her parents were rough people; they had married Negra to Jorge when she was only twelve. Now, barely thirteen, she was with child, and her time had come.
Jorge urged Maria to come to his wife quickly. Negra had already been in labor for more than a day. Maria had been to their home six times to check on her already. It was her practice to check often when a child was coming. She did not like surprises, although she often got them. There was no way of knowing how a birth would go until it happened—birth and death were alike in that way.
It was not a day when Maria wanted to leave her children. With luck, Billy Williams would be back that night or the next morning with the wounded man. Maria wanted to stay near Rafael and Teresa in case Joey came. The shoemaker’s house was not far, but it was not her house, and Joey was quick in his evil. There was no one in the village that Maria could trust, now that Billy was gone. Captain Call was feverish, and he mumbled words that made no sense. Sometimes he was conscious, but he was too weak to even lift his head. When he had to relieve himself, Maria and Lorena had taken turns assisting him. He tried to fight them off with his one hand, but they helped him anyway, directing his water into a jug. Maria would have to do it herself now that Lorena was gone. And Call would accept all other attentions only from Teresa.
The Lonesome Dove Chronicles (1-4) Page 281