“That so? Well, we aim to make a go of it. What did you say your name is?”
“They call me Harry. My great-grandpa was a Cherokee, Grey Wolf was his name. My grandma was one-half Kiowa, married a white man. They used to call me “Chief” but that was long ago,” he laughed. “Almost all them folks is now dead and buried. My woman was the prettiest blonde in these parts. Harriett and Harry. We were H and H,” he laughed, slapping his knee. “A real team, yes sir. Harrison’s the last name. But you can call me Harry.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll be sure to. Bye now.” He waved. Nice old man, he thought to himself. Good spitter. He smiled.
He crossed the street to the almost-deserted town square. The sound of commerce had slowed to an occasional door opening or a car passing through town headed somewhere else.
He wandered slowly, thoughtfully, down the single-lane road noticing faces peering out from behind drawn curtains in a shop, at the general store, a tired and worn looking gasoline station—faces wondering, no doubt, who the stranger was, why he had stopped in Warm Springs.
Suspicious.
Curious.
Faces. Nameless faces so far—except for Harry.
Norman stopped outside the one room post office and decided to check on the number of boxes in town. The number would more than likely indicate the number of homes. See how many closed out, how many available, he thought.
He counted thirty-five exactly. A red note, VACANT, was spelled out and taped to one half.
“Excuse me,” a young woman happily announced, standing behind him as he peered into one of the boxes, trying to read a name on the mail.
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry,” he offered, politely removing his worn brown fedora, more cowboy-style than city.
“You!” she gasped.
Norman smiled, shuffling his feet nervously. “I apologize, miss. I wasn’t aware of the rules.”
“I ought to smack you across the face for scarin’ me today. You left me nothin’ private … nothin’ at all,” she fumed. “How am I to be a lady if nothin’ private is left? Who are you anyway, and why did ya have to be so mean?”
“Norman, miss. My name is Norman Parker and my pa and my brother have come to buy the old train depot, on a note from the Santa Fe, and that land out by the springs … we bid on it—come here to buy it out. Some folks lost it to the banks and we …”
“My folks that’s who! Just ‘bout broke their hearts. They had that land for thirty years! Now you’re buyin’ it for practically a song?”
“I … uh … had no idea. We are comin’ from Oklahoma City for a new life. No way to know—well you know how it goes. I am sorry. Granddad, he left my mother a small piece of money in his will or we wouldn’t be here. A bit of good fortune in bad times, I know. And about the springs—I, my brother, we apologize. Sincerely, we do.”
“Humph! Brother. You are foolin’ with me. Messin’ with my mind. I saw ya there. I saw ya walkin’ off and then comin’ back to the bushes to play with my mind.”
“I have a brother. See, we are twins. I’m Norman. He’s Lucian and …”
“I think I’ll just get my mail and be leavin’ if you don’t mind,” she said, furrowing her brow. Suddenly coming to her was a memory of two boys, schoolboys older than she, when she lived here seven years ago. “What did you say your name was?”
“Norman. And you are Mary Jane. See, I remember you from when we went to the county school down in Redemption but I wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”
“And you say you got a twin brother?”
“Sure do. Lucian. He was out there today with me. See we were innocent of any spying on you. It was more Lucian and …”
“Lucian Parker?” She smiled.
“You remember us?”
“I remember Lucian and you well. But you always were so shy.” She smiled, suddenly aware of an old interest stirring in her. “That brother of yours was such a tease.” She grinned with a shake of her head.
“Today, well it got out of hand. See he was the one stayin’ and I was the one leaving … to give you respect, see. I humbly apologize. Lucian is just that way,” he added, making his case.
“Well, maybe I’ll forgive you. Let me think on it,” she replied, trying to act reproving, not showing her approval at meeting the handsome boy like this.
“I would like to offer to make it up to you. May I stop and see you? Make it up some way?” His heart was beating so hard he was sure the blond-haired blue-eyed beauty could tell.
“I’m leavin’ soon for California. I haven’t seen the folks for some time. Needed to take care of Grandpa out here. But I’m going back now. We up and left about seven years ago.”
“I remember. We did too. My pa ran the Redemption depot,” Norman offered.
“We ran the farming land out by the springs. It about killed my folks to lose this land here in Warm Springs. Now I’m goin’ to join them again in four weeks. I’ve got work out in California. If you really want to make it up to me, you’ll make sure that you show it by helpin’ out once I’m gone.”
“What can I do?” he stammered.
She walked outside.
He followed.
“See that old house? The one with the worn paint on the siding?”
“That’s where the old man Harry lives.” Norman smiled.
“Yes. Grandpa. I see you have met.”
“He is a very nice gentleman,” Norman observed, trying to cover his tracks. He was caught off guard by the rush of emotions capturing his mind and tongue as his eyes froze upon the full pink lips, the fine, almost perfect facial features. Skin so delicate, soft, made of ivory without a blemish, almost too perfect. Eyes set apart like innocence with narrow brows accenting them. Eyes that smiled with the hue of blue like a clear sky—free of trouble.
She looked at him—grin mixed with furrowed brow—a weak attempt to act stern overcome by her interest in the handsome young stranger. “He won’t leave. He’s stayin’ in Warm Springs. He can’t keep up the place alone. You promise to check on him and I will think about forgivin’ you.”
“I think he has a new friend.” Norman smiled. “Can I come and visit?”
“I don’t see why not. Supper is five o’clock, right after we get back from church tomorrow. You can call then if you like.”
Norman smiled. “I look forward to it, Mary Jane. I don’t recall your last name,” he stated, anticipating her response.
“Harrison,” she answered.
“Well, Mary Jane Harrison. Again I apologize for earlier. I promise I will be more honorable. I hope you will forgive me,” Norman urged, trademark fedora to his chest.
“I’m considerin’ it. Five o’clock. Supper will be ready,” she finished and moved to leave.
“Allow me,” he offered, opening the door ahead of her.
She brushed lightly against his arm, a bounce in her step as lively as the rush of excitement running through him now.
“Five o’clock,” he called to her as she walked off. He placed the worn brown fedora back on his head and turned around struggling to contain his new energy. “Five o’clock!” he whispered triumphantly.
CHAPTER 4
Norman strolled back to the depot on a cushion of air. He glided along taking his hat off to every passerby, smiling, introducing himself, as cheerful to know he’d be part of this Oklahoma town as any time he could recall being happy in his entire life.
Maybe I could convince her to stay, he thought. But she must be just sixteen if he was eighteen now. He couldn’t marry her, not yet anyway. Maybe I could write her and then visit her out in California. Ride the rails on a slow week. Court her long distance and when she turned eighteen … His mind fantasized the possibilities.
Better she leave town before Lucian makes his move, he thought. Yes sir. Far better for me to make my impression upon her and then keep at it. Better stake out my ground with her and let Lucian know not to cross the line, he contemplated. Four weeks to do it and keep Lucian away.<
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He bounced up to the loading dock with one leap and looked for his pa and brother so he could announce his happy intentions of making Warm Springs his home. He couldn’t help overhearing the lively debate going on around the corner. He leaned up against the building and listened.
“There are still some farms, some livestock going on. We got us enough money from your Grandpa Mead’s inheritance and estate sale last year in New Mexico to make a real go of it! It’s just been waitin’ for the right opportunity.
“Son, I’ve been workin’ the rails my whole life. Lucian, it’s time to settle down. This place is about to turn around—every— thing does. We just got to have enough patience.
“Old Roosevelt, he’s startin’ some government work projects. The wages aren’t bad. You boys could get yourselves workin’ this summer and then …”His voice drifted away with his thoughts.
“Pa?” Lucian drawled, spitting some tobacco juice with it. “Pa?”
“Come fall we get those Santa Fe short runs goin’, put everything back into this; pay her off—owning the land—maybe pickin’ up some more—who knows? By the time you boys are all grown, you won’t have to work like I’ve done. You’ll be sittin’ real pretty. Your Grandpa Mead was a right smart man to put that money in them bank bonds, scrimping and saving. We owe it to spend this right, not squander it. No sir.”
“Pa, I was thinkin’,” Lucian finally broke in as they both stood there looking out from the loading dock to the farmland bordered by trees near the hot springs.
“Pa, I had this idea when Norm and I graduated from high school last year in Oklahoma City of maybe goin’ out West to work and gettin’ into college. I could work the docks on the Santa Fe or Union Pacific at night, and maybe go to college in the day … makin’ something of myself.”
“So you don’t think this is something?” Jason Parker waved his arm in a broad survey of all that stood before them.
“With a farm, some of the spring water, good luck, our own line—after I give the Santa Fe man ten thousand dollars we still got five thousand left for that land and a good head start on some cattle, some seed, a year of money.
“We could be landowners and own our own steamer—she’s old, some forty years—turn-of-the-century, yes sir—but a real beaut, a classic. They don’t make ‘em like this Baldwin steamdriven beast no more. Diesels maybe pull more, but nothin’ beats a real honest-to-goodness workhorse. A Baldwin Steamer! Nothing beats her, no sir. This is something, boy.” Jason Parker turned happily as he ran his hand across the hull of the black engine that stood proudly against the loading dock. “This is really somethin’,” he repeated with deep reverence for the forty-year-old locomotive.
Lucian judged the reaction his father had just displayed. “Yes, sir. I do think this is something. But Pa, I had this idea, see I’m real good at math and chemistry,” he started.
“They got this engineering course at the University of Southern California and with my grades—I got a notice right here from my school counselor,” he said as he reached into his back pocket. “It says that the government helps out some with tuition, and I join ROTC or the National Guard or something to help my payments out and …”
“I know, I know.” Jason waved him off. “Your mother and me, we’ve been talkin’. I just think its best you put to workin’ for one year son.” He turned. “You could help build a real future and there is still time to go off to the city and do that schoolin’ and city life you want so bad.”
“I know, but …”
“Just give it some thought. That’s all I ask. I know all of this is new to you, but maybe if you just slow your mind down, give it the summer, then you could have something to compare it to. Country life is a good life, son. It’s healthy. I surely have looked forward to building a business with my two boys. If after you work a bit here and know it still ain’t right, I’ll understand.”
“I guess so, Pa. I want your blessin’ and I do want to see you and Mama happy.” Lucian gazed around, coughed as a truck stirred up dust on the road nearby. “I know how happy you are, Pa. I surely do and I’ll give it the summer.”
“That’s my boy. Why don’t you run along, find Norman, and let’s go on down the road a piece to Redemption town. Let’s get a real good look at our neighbors. What do ya say?”
“Yes, Pa.” He turned and jumped off the dock to the dirt road. “Pa?”
“Yes, son,” he answered with a smile of contentment.
“Thank you. Thanks for hearin’ me out.”
Jason Parker winked and flicked his hand as if to let him know all would turn out. He stroked his hand across the black hull of the reliable iron steamer and smiled.
Lucian turned to watch the love affair his father had with the steel beast. “He’s worked hard for it,” he muttered to himself as he walked away toward town.
“Hey Norm … you been here long?” Lucian asked as he turned the corner and bumped into him.
“Heard the whole thing. So what do you say, Lucian?”
“I don’t know. We’re leaving next Monday for our first train run over to Albuquerque to pick up Mama. Maybe the old man will see how bad I want out.”
“Look, brother. I support you. Just pack your bags. I can handle it. I’ll talk to Pa for you.”
“You’d do that for me?” Lucian smiled as they jumped off the loading dock and headed down the dirt road leading into the town square.
“You bet. I think you should go to school. Besides, what’s to do here? No girls you know,” Norman added with a wink, baiting his brother into thinking miles ahead of the hot springs and the pretty blonde he’d set his heart on.
“You know Norm.” Lucian grinned as he put his arm around him. “You are a real square sometimes. I swear if we didn’t look exactly alike I’d say we had a different mama and papa. Thanks for the vote of support. Let me buy you a beer.”
“Lucian, I don’t drink. Knock it off. When are you gonna quit and just accept me for being different?” Norman asked heavily.
“See? There you go. You can’t ease up, let loose, just be carefree. Always serious Norman. Proper dignified Norman,” he laughed, slapping his twin on the back. “Okay, a root beer! Geez, you’d think I was temptin’ ya to go to some big city bordello house with me.” He spit his chewing tobacco out and continued to tease his somber brother.
Mary Jane peered out from the kitchen window facing Main Street. She shuddered at the sight of the two dark-haired handsome boys walking into town. The only way she knew who was who was her certainty that the boy she had just met at the post office didn’t chew tobacco, and he wore a hat, turned up cowboy style.
But he was interesting, the tobacco chewing one, she thought to herself. Dangerous, carefree, laughing. She gazed intently at the twins who had caught her undressed at the springs. It was innocent of course, but now she was glad for the excitement. This boring town hadn’t offered her so much as a date to the movies down in Redemption.
She wondered if the other brother, Lucian, was a bit more exciting, liked the city life. The two disappeared around the corner but not before Lucian caught a glimpse of her peeking out from behind the lace window curtains.
“Is that the young blond chick we saw earlier at the springs?” Lucian asked, poking his elbow into Norman’s rib and pointing to the small white bungalow with worn siding.
“Could be,” Norman answered flatly, seeking to distract his brother’s attention. He still didn’t recognize her for the little schoolgirl he used to tease years ago.
“Come on, Lucian,” he poked back. “I’ll race ya for the root beer. I win, you pay. You win, I pay.” He took off. Lucian hesitated. He was already going to pay.
Now a love affairjust might convince me to stay. He smiled at the thought of the blond-haired beauty in the steaming vapors earlier that day. Yes sir. Might just convince me.
CHAPTER 5
Sunday couldn’t come too soon. Norman took the well-worn dark brown fedora off his head and straightened hi
s tie. He reached up to the cottage door then pulled his hand back. He felt his heart racing to the beat of the pistons on the old steamer when she was cranked up full speed. He thought he had control … until now.
He took a step back to consider his nerves, what he would say, do. This girl scared him as much as anything—she was the prettiest picture of a woman he had ever seen. She messed him all up inside. He stammered to himself just thinking about her. No telling how he’d come off trying to spit two intelligible words out, one following the other, that is.
Dazzling azure eyes and fully flaxen gold streams of fine fiery strands cascading upon her slender shoulders like the perfection granted to mythical female figures from classical stories. He imagined every beautiful woman he could rolled into one with her. His father seemed to feel this way about his mother. He had overheard him admiring her so often. Now he understood love. If this was a fraction of what his own pa felt for his mother, then God in heaven was smiling on him now.
To find the love of a lifetime here in this two-horse town of south central Oklahoma was the least he had expected from this move his family was making. And to fall in love, it was something he hadn’t given any thought to just days ago. And he had fallen hard—real hard—for this girl.
He was afraid of his feelings. It felt good, but he couldn’t help the fear—maybe of rejection, acting foolish. It had him all in knots. Falling in love didn’t seem so sane in an uncertain world with the Depression and all, and she was moving out to California. Foolish it was, to fall in love.
He cleared his throat and practiced his line. “Hello, Mary Jane. I brought you these,” he would say as he extended the spring bouquet to her. He straightened himself and reached to knock on the considerably paint-worn raised-panel door once more.
Maybe she had come to her senses. He had seen her without a stitch on … at least a good part of her.
Maybe she would slam the door in his face. He had embarrassed her so out at the springs.
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