“Well, that’s what we’re doing unless you want to take him and his hired guns on with your two shotgun shells,” Odell said.
Sinclair passed Escalante the bottle. Escalante set down his empty bowl and took a drink. “I know what you mean about finding your better nature,” Escalante said. “For me, I found it with my daughters, especially when they were little. They were so innocent and tiny, I thought, how could anyone ever hurt another living thing? All the men we killed, they were small children once. It hurt my heart to think of all the bad things I had done.”
“All the men we killed were trying to kill us back,” Sinclair said.
“That’s true, I guess, most of the times,” Escalante said. “Still, I’m sorry it had to be that way. Having children made me realize it shouldn’t be. You both only had one child?”
Sinclair and Odell nodded.
“My wife came from a family of twelve children. Every one of her sisters has ten children each. We weren’t able to have any more after my little Mirta was born. I would never say this to her, but as the only man in a house with all those women, five children were enough.”
“It sounds like God blessed you with a lovely family,” Odell said. “How old are your girls?”
Escalante leaned back on his elbows in the dirt. “Let’s see. My two oldest girls are already married. They already gave me grandchildren. My middle daughter is smart. Too smart for me anyway. She is at school studying medicine.”
“Studying medicine to do what?” Sinclair asked. He reached for the whiskey bottle and Escalante handed it over.
“She wants to be a doctor.”
“A lady doctor?”
“That’s right.”
Sinclair took a swig. The bottle was getting low. “We are thrust now into a strange world, old friend.”
“You have no idea, jefe.” Escalante stared at the fire and watched it dance. “My second youngest, Lupita, had some trouble with a local man. It left her a little, you know, disturbed.”
“What kind of trouble?” Sinclair asked.
“One of the worst kinds.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Lorenzo,” Odell said.
“Did you kill him?” Sinclair asked.
“No. His family is very well-known where we live. My boss and his father are cousins. It would have led to big problems if I did anything stupid.”
“The Lorenzo I knew would never have left a piece of trash like that out walking around,” Sinclair said.
“I never said he was walking around,” Escalante said.
Escalante pulled a long blade of grass from the dirt and tore a piece from it and threw it into the fire. He ripped another off and tossed it in next. “My youngest, Mirta, she is the light of my life. She’s a little me. It drives my wife crazy. One time, when she was little, Alma bought her a brand-new dress. This was a special occasion, because when you are the youngest of five girls, you only get what is passed down to you. But this dress was new. It was blue. It had bows. As soon as my wife put it on her, Mirta asked to go outside. ‘Don’t get the dress dirty, Mirta,’ my wife say. ‘I won’t, Mama. I just want to show my friends how it looks,’ she say. An hour later, she comes back in the house with the dress ripped in half, covered in dirt, holding a dead raccoon. It was the last new dress my wife bought her.”
“Where on earth did she get a dead raccoon?” Odell asked.
“She told us she was playing and saw a big raccoon sneaking up on the chicken coop. She threw rocks at it to try to scare it off, but it just hissed at her. She ran back to get help, but before she can, she hears the chickens screaming. So she did the first thing that came to mind. She grabbed her bow. My bow but the one I showed her how to use.”
“She killed a raccoon with a bow and arrow while wearing a brand-new dress?” Odell asked.
“She sure did,” Escalante said, and smiled. “Her mother was so mad, but I have never been more proud in my life. I told her that, you know, as soon as I was sure my wife couldn’t hear.”
“That one’s a keeper,” Odell said.
“She’s incredible. She can hunt and shoot and track, all of it better than I can. I showed her everything I know, and now she shows me things. She’s beautiful, but she’s got no interest in boys. Thank God. I think they’re too afraid of her to come around.”
“Well, you sound like you have a wonderful family, Mr. Escalante.”
“I do. I’m more lucky than I deserve. I work all day, but it is honest work and I never have to kill anyone or worry about the law coming to my home and killing the people I love. I go home and I sit on my porch and I sip my whiskey and then I sit down to eat with my wife and daughters. Sometimes, I think I’m going to wake up and find myself in prison and realize it was all a dream.”
“If life’s so good, why’d you come all the way out here and get involved in this mess?” Sinclair asked.
“Because all that peace and quiet was driving me crazy!” Escalante said. “I couldn’t take it anymore. You know what I do when I sit on my porch and drink? I dream about the days when I was an outlaw.”
Sinclair picked up a stick and tossed it into the fire. “First light, you’re riding out to go home, Lorenzo.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m sending you back. No discussion. Me and Odell, we’re obligated to go, but you did what you were paid for and now it’s time to go home. If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to purchase that defective shotgun you’re carrying. One barrel and two shells is better than no barrel and no shells, I reckon.”
“I’m not leaving. What are you talking about?” Escalante asked. “I ride with you both, like I said I would.”
“And I relieve you of what you said.”
“That cannot be relieved with just words, jefe. I would not have a family if you had not kept your dignity while you were in prison. If I were to turn my back on you after all you have given me, I would never be able to look my children in the eyes again.”
“Your debt is paid,” Sinclair said. “Me and Odell will continue on. This is family business and we’ll see to it. Just sell me the shotgun—that’s all I ask.”
“You think you and I are not family?” Escalante asked.
“We ain’t. Not the real kind,” Sinclair said.
Escalante’s eyes narrowed on Sinclair. “I told Hank you were always a bastard and now I see nothing has changed.”
Odell set his bowl aside and said, “Listen, Mr. Escalante, maybe he’s right. You’ve already done more than I paid you for. It would be better for your family if you went home to them. Ashford and I can manage on our own.”
Escalante got up and brushed himself off. He walked to his horse and undid his bedroll and spread it out by the fire. He bundled himself in a blanket and rolled over with his back to them and did not speak anything further.
Sinclair finished the last of the whiskey and said, “You’ve got first watch, Henry. Keep that fire lit so nothing creeps up on us out here. Lots of critters in this country, I expect, and none of them friendly.”
“Who said you get to assign details around here, Ashford?”
Sinclair got up and stretched. “You didn’t drink, so you won’t be as tired. Man who doesn’t drink gets first watch. This way you get to sit here longer and enjoy your superiority.” Sinclair walked over to his horse to fetch his bedroll and untied it. “Wake up Lorenzo when it’s the next turn.”
“You get to go last and sleep the longest. Is that it?” Odell asked.
“That’s right,” Sinclair said. “Look on the bright side, Henry. After Lorenzo goes home, you’ll get to be my right-hand man.”
* * *
* * *
Sinclair awoke to the sound of snoring. It was pitch-black out, save for the remnants of embers inside the fire that glowed their last. The snoring came from Henry Odell, who was cu
rled up on the dirt next to the fire. The fool had fallen asleep during his watch and had not even the sense to go back to his bedroll.
Sinclair was about to sit up and kick him when he caught the scent of something foul in the air. He looked down at himself, then at the others, trying to find its source. The stench was unbearable, like a mixture of rotting meat and urine. He searched the darkness and stopped when he saw something move.
It slithered close to the dying fire and Sinclair caught sight of its green-speckled back. He saw its thick triangular head move toward the sleeping Odell. Its tongue flickered out. Odell, the fool who’d let the fire go out, let out a bark of a snore and flinched.
The snake jerked into a defensive coil. Odell snored again and the snake wound up its reticulated body and stretched out its jaws wide. In the glowing embers, Sinclair could see venom drop from the tip of the snake’s fangs.
It hissed and Henry Odell’s eyes fluttered open. He stared at the snake about to strike him in the face, too terrified to move. He opened his mouth to cry out and the snake launched forward from the dirt.
The snake flew straight as an arrow for Odell’s face—when a length of metal flashed through the air. Odell looked down in disbelief at the knife that had struck the snake in midflight and pinned it to the ground.
Lorenzo Escalante got up from his bedroll and walked around the fire to fetch his knife. The snake wriggled and writhed until it went flat on the ground. Escalante kicked it to make sure it was dead and then picked it up with his knife and tossed it into the grass. He wiped his knife on the ground and walked off to go gather more firewood.
Henry Odell’s mouth gaped open and he tried to talk, but he had no voice. He forced himself to breathe and turned to look at Sinclair. “You blackhearted son of a bitch,” he gasped. “You were going to let that bite me.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Yes, you were! I opened my eyes and saw you looking directly at that snake, awake as can be! You just—you just laid there and watched it creep up on me!”
“Well, you were supposed to be standing watch and minding the fire. Didn’t I tell you that?”
“So you would let me get snakebit because I fell asleep?”
“Serves you right in my book.”
“It could have killed me!”
“I wish it would have!”
Escalante returned with several branches that he laid inside the ashes, stirred them to get them hot.
Odell’s entire body was shaking, and his voice trembled. “Thank you, Mr. Escalante. I owe you my life.”
“It’s okay. I needed the practice with my knife.”
“You always was good with a blade,” Sinclair said. “Good to see some things never change.”
Escalante ignored him and worked on the fire. “Hopefully once this fire gets going, the smoke will clear out the stink. Kick dirt on anywhere that looks greasy or milky.”
Odell stood up and kicked dirt at the ground where he was sleeping. “What on earth is that disgusting smell anyway?”
“Musking. Snakes do it when they feel threatened.”
“When they feel threatened? How does he think I felt?” Odell said. He looked at the darkness and felt his insides quiver. “I swear to God, Ashford, if I see another one of them things, I’m going to grab it and throw it at you. I don’t care if I get bit in the process just so long as it bites you and then we can die together.”
“Snakes won’t bite me,” Sinclair said. He propped his arm under his head and closed his eyes to go back to sleep. “I’m of their own kind.”
PART THREE
THE VALLEY OF ELAN
CHAPTER NINE
Mirta Escalante sat down at the dinner table, and her mother, Alma, clicked her tongue at her in disgust. “Go wash up.”
“I did wash up. I washed my arms and face like you always say.”
“Well, your dress is filthy. Were you rolling in the mud like a pig?”
Lupita, Mirta’s elder sister, laughed and made snorting noises.
“Shut up!” Mirta said.
“What did I tell you about talking to your sister like that? She’s sick.”
“She’s not sick. She’s loca!”
“Oh, so you are the doctor now? I thought it was your older sister who does her schoolwork so she can go to medical school, but instead it is you, running around in the woods living like an animal, who studied and went instead? How did I miss it?”
“I went to school,” Mirta said.
“Looking like a pig,” Alma said.
Lupita snorted again.
“Shut up, estúpida!” Mirta screamed.
Alma slapped the table and clenched her eyes. She pressed her fist against her forehead. “Ay, dios mío, give me strength not to strangle this child.” When Alma opened her eyes, she leveled a finger at Mirta and said, “You are almost an adult. It is time for you to start acting like a young lady. How will you ever attract a man—” Alma stopped speaking. She glanced at Lupita and made sure she was not listening. “How will you ever get married if you don’t make yourself presentable?”
Mirta took a bite and with a mouth full of food, she said, “Who says I want to get married?”
“Oh, so you expect me to support you your whole life?” Alma asked. “Selfish child! I already have to take care of your poor sister.”
“I’ll support myself,” Mirta said. “I can hunt. I can track. I can do all of the things Papa ever could.”
“And what will those things get you? Trouble! That’s all you will do, and you will bring shame on this whole family.”
“Papa said I can stay here as long as I want, and I don’t have to get married.”
“Well, he is not here, is he?” Alma snapped. “For all we know, he will never come back.”
Mirta swallowed and put her fork down. “Why wouldn’t he come back?”
“Just eat your food.” Alma picked up a napkin and wiped Lupita’s mouth. “You’re making a mess, princesa. You have to get all the food in your mouth, okay? You need Mama to help?”
Mirta finished eating and cleaned up the table. She left her mother doting on her sister and went outside. The one-handed man and her father had left only two days earlier. The one-handed man’s horse was shod properly, but her father’s was not. The best Lorenzo Escalante could afford was the cheapest the farrier offered. The shoes they bought always wore out unevenly and all of the Escalante horses rode with a distinctive track.
She bent down to inspect the direction the one-handed man and her father had gone. It wouldn’t be hard to follow at all.
* * *
* * *
In the morning, when the sun had not yet risen, Sinclair, Odell, and Escalante left the land of scrub brush and dirt and large rocks and entered into thick woods at the edge of Elan Valley. In the dim light, Escalante rode too close to one of the trees and came away covered in cobwebs. There were sacks full of spider eggs draped across his hat and coat. As he pulled off his hat to swipe them away, one of the sacks burst in his hand and spilled piles of baby spiders onto the back of his horse’s neck.
Escalante swatted at the spiders as fast as he could. “Help, amigos! If they get under the saddle, the horse will go insane.”
Sinclair and Odell got down from their horses to help. They cleared off Escalante’s coat and hat and helped him pluck the tiny spiders out of the horse’s mane. While they worked, something moved behind one of the nearby trees. They ignored it, thinking it was an animal, but then it let out a high-pitched cackle that filled the woods until it echoed.
They backed away from Escalante’s horse and stood quiet. “Can you see him?” Sinclair whispered.
“No, jefe.”
“It’s Indians,” Odell said. “Goddamn it.”
“Can’t be,” Escalante said. “There’s none left around here.”
“Whatever it is, let’s get going,” Sinclair said.
They mounted their horses. There were too many trees and it was too dark yet to bring the horses into a gallop. They were forced to take it slow and every so often, the cackling rang out again. Whoever it was, was following them. They could hear leaves crunch and snap not far behind them.
“Look,” Sinclair said. He pointed at a stark-naked man hiding behind one of the trees ahead. The man covered his mouth to try to stop himself from laughing, but a cackle burst out from between his lips, and he cocked his head back in a fit of laughter.
“That can’t be the same one. He was behind us,” Odell said.
Suddenly the naked man stopped cackling and growled at them. He bared his black teeth and barked like a mad dog.
“Hey!” Escalante called out. He pulled the shotgun out from his saddle. “What do you want?”
The man’s bare flesh was covered in filth. He had long greasy hair that grew from his head and chin and sprouted from his nostrils like dandelions. He kept barking and clawed the air with long yellow fingernails.
“He looks half starved. Should we give him some food?” Odell asked.
“You show him we have food and we’ll have to kill him to keep him off,” Sinclair said.
“Get on!” Escalante shouted. “Leave us alone!”
Sinclair’s horse jerked and he turned his head in time to see someone creeping up on them from the opposite side. It was a second lunatic, as naked and filthy as the first, but this one moved silently and fast. His hands were extended toward them like he meant to grab ahold of whoever he could reach first and rip them down from their saddle. Two more men came running at them from behind the trees.
Sinclair grabbed one of his skinning knives. “Defend yourselves, men!”
“They’re everywhere,” Escalante shouted.
The one behind the tree kept cackling. Odell’s horse reared back and kicked its hooves in the air, sending two of the naked bastards scattering. Odell clung to the saddle horn tight with one hand and rode the animal back to the ground with a thud.
Ralph Compton Face of a Snake Page 10