Good Water

by John D. Nesbitt

  “Oh, yes. But he doesn’t care. He says that if we don’t leave, he will cut off our water. And if we don’t leave after that, there will be other consequences.”

  Red cleared his throat and said, “When did all this happen? After we were here the last time?”

  “Yes. Day before yesterday. He came over here with the other man. The one we call El Gordo. The fat one.”

  “That’s Lew. His name’s Lew Greer.”

  Raimundo shrugged.

  Tommy met his gaze and said, “What do you think you’ll do, then?”

  Raimundo raised his eyebrows. “Well, we don’t just pack up and leave because of something he says. We have to wait and see what he does.”

  ‘Do you think he’ll cut off your water?”

  “I don’t know. But we don’t see any good in him. He has a bad eye. It’s what the people call mal ojo. He can look at a baby or a weak person, and he can make them sick, give them a bad spirit.”

  “Like a curse?” Tommy said.

  “That’s it.”

  Red sniffed. “There’s bad blood, all right.”

  “Yeah? We think so. That’s why I say maybe we don’t be friends for very long.”

  Tommy said, “Well, this isn’t going to turn us against you.”

  “No,” said Raimundo. “But he is a very hard man. And probably he will not let you come here anymore. Maybe you say different, but he’s the boss.”

  Red pushed away his empty plate. “Well, I’m sorry to hear all of this. It doesn’t sound good to me.”

  “Some things you cannot change,” said Raimundo. “Maybe you don’t come back. Maybe you come back but not for a long time. We don’t know the future. But we are friends today. That is the only reason I invite you to eat in my house.”

  Tommy said, “I’m glad you told us about him trying to make you leave.”

  “I don’t want you boys to get in trouble with your boss.”

  Red gave a short laugh. “Sooner or later, it’ll be hard not to be in trouble with him. Like you said, he’s a hard man. From what you just told us, he’s harder than I realized.”

  “I don’t think he’d do anything to you boys, but be careful.”

  Red took a breath. “Oh, we will.”

  Tommy had a sense that the conversation had run its course and served its purpose. He cleaned up his plate and set it aside. “Well,” he said, “we sure thank you for the meal. And I hope we get to come back again before long.”

  “If God wishes it.” Raimundo smiled.

  Red scooted back his chair and stood up. “And please give our thanks to your wife. And your daughter, I guess.”

  “Thank you.”

  Tommy looked around, and seeing nothing of the womenfolk, he stood up as well. Raimundo accompanied them to the door, where he shook hands with each of them and said, “Just remember. You are always welcome here.” They thanked him, put on their hats, and went outside.

  Tommy blinked a couple of times as he adjusted to the brightness. He located their two horses and the boy who held the reins. The boy led the horses forward and handed the first set of reins to Tommy.

  “Thank you,” said Tommy. “What’s your name?”

  “Gabriel.”

  “Mine’s Tommy. And this is Red.”

  The boy smiled and shook hands with each of them. Tommy figured him to be fourteen or fifteen.

  Movement caught Tommy’s attention. In the shade of the next house over, two girls stood talking. They were the same two he had seen on the first visit—the girl who had served their meal and the one who was her cousin.

  Tommy brought his eyes back to meet Gabriel’s. “Is that your sister, the one on the left?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s her name?”

  The boy looked down, and in a low voice he said, “Anita.”

  “Thanks.” Tommy shook his hand again and said, “I don’t think anyone will get in trouble if you just tell her my name.”

  The boy kept his eyes toward the ground, and shrugging, he said, “Probably not.”

  “Good. Just to be sure, I’ll tell you again. It’s Tommy.”

  “I know.”

  Red’s voice was louder than the other two as he said, “Don’t leave me out.”

  Tommy gave a light frown and made a gesture with his hand to suggest that Red keep his voice low. Back to Gabriel, he said, “And your cousin?”

  The boy’s voice was just above a whisper. “Elsa.”

  “Tell her Red thinks she’s pretty.”

  Red let out a breath of exasperation. “I can speak for myself.”

  Tommy laughed. “Like Miles Standish?”

  Gabriel gave them both a questioning look.

  Red turned to the boy. “You can tell her my name. Red. And of course I think she’s pretty. But don’t tell her that if it’s going to cause any trouble. Especially if it’s going to make her father mad. Or any big brother.”

  Gabriel nodded in agreement, and the two visitors led their horses into the clear to mount up. Tommy waited to see if Red was going to perform his flying mount, but he didn’t. He stepped into the stirrup and swung his leg over. Tommy did the same. He tipped his hat to the girls, waved, and rode away. Red held back a second, and Tommy imagined he wanted the stage to himself.

  A minute later, Red caught up. He said, “Why did you tell him to say that?”

  “What? That you thought his cousin was pretty?”

  “Why did you say that? It put him and me both on the spot.”

  Tommy laughed. “I was just trying to help.”

  “Funny way of doing it.”

  Tommy evened his reins and smiled to himself. If he didn’t help his own cause, no one else was going to.

  Fred Berwick and Walt McKinney were sorting beans when Tommy and Red walked into the bunkhouse. Fred looked up and said, “Hello, boys.”

  Walt turned in his chair and tipped his ash in a sardine can. “Long ride today?”

  “Same as usual,” Red answered.

  Tommy noticed the care with which Fred picked up a rotted, shriveled bean and set it to the side with the dirt clods, tiny rocks, and other bad beans.

  Walt rubbed the underside of his stubbled chin and went back to sorting beans.

  “Need any stove wood?” Red asked.

  Fred shook his head. “I think we’re all right.”

  Red cupped his hand on the back of his neck and stretched. “Would you like some help sortin’ beans?”

  “We’re pretty close to done.” Fred pursed his lips, and after a couple of seconds he said, “I expect Lew to be back in here in a few minutes.”

  “Oh.” Red raised his eyebrows and looked at Tommy. They hung their hats and were on their way to their bunks when the door opened behind them and pushed a wave of air into the room.

  Lew Greer’s voice was loud and commanding. “I need to talk to you boys.”

  They turned around to face the foreman. He moved close, within arm’s distance. Light from the doorway cast him in shadow, so that his stubbled face and glaring eyes had the qualities of a storm ready to break open. A couple of specks of saliva flew as he said, “You two brats have a lot to learn.”

  Tommy looked from the foreman to Red, and he felt that something bad was about to happen.

  Red’s eyes narrowed, and his face tightened. He said, “I learn something every day.”

  “By listening to the Mexicans.”

  “That, too.”

  Greer’s arm shot out, and he slapped Red on the cheekbone.

  Red staggered aside, caught his balance, and stood with his fists at his side.

  Greer planted his feet and held his fist at his side like a hammer. “Don’t even think about it,” he said. “For one thing, I’d beat you like a dog.” The big man’s face spread in a sneer of disapproval. “For another, you don’t work here anymore.” He turned his head so that he took in Tommy as well. “Neither of you. You don’t work here, you don’t live here, you don’t do anything her
e. Pack your things, both of you.” Greer’s eyes narrowed, and his chest went up and down. “Sneakin’ little sons of bitches, both of you. Well, let me tell you this. When you work for someone, you take orders. If you don’t, you’re nothin’.” His voice slowed down. “That’s what you are. Nothin’. You’ve got an hour to pack your things and get gone. You step foot on any part of this ranch again, and you’ll wish you hadn’t.”

  “We’ve got pay comin’,” said Red.

  “You’ll get it.” Greer turned and lumbered out of the bunkhouse, pulling the door hard behind him.

  Tommy looked at Fred and Walt. He imagined they were glad to have beans to sort.

  Fred looked up and said, “Sorry, boys. Lew and Vinch are on a rampage.”

  “It’s all right,” Tommy said. “We did it to ourselves.”

  Red’s voice came out with something of a quaver. “I’ll tell you, that’s the last time he’ll ever hit me.”

  Walt twisted his mouth and said, “The less you make of any of this, the better.” He went back to pushing beans.

  Tommy noticed, as he had observed in the past, that Walt’s fingernails were worn down to the pink, and the tips of his fingers grew beyond them. Tommy had never seen Walt chewing his nails, but he knew the signs.

  Fred scrunched his nose. Without looking away from his work, he said, “It’s better not to make a fuss. Take your pay and go quietly. That’s what I’d do.”

  Red’s voice was calm as he said, “I didn’t mean today.”

  Fred nodded. “I know.”

  Tommy started packing his belongings. He didn’t have much, just his war bag, his bedroll, and his rifle. Red had close to the same. In less than ten minutes, they were ready to go. They decided to saddle their horses and come back for their gear.

  The sun was going down as they stepped outside. Tommy was thinking of his horse, an older animal that had been getting plenty of rest as Tommy was riding ranch horses. Older horses could still buck, though, and Tommy hoped Pete hadn’t gotten too fresh.

  As it turned out, Pete was calm as ever. He stood still as Tommy brushed and saddled him and checked his hooves. Tommy decided to climb aboard before he tied on all his gear, so he rode Pete from the barn to the bunkhouse. Pete was still a model of good behavior.

  Inside the bunkhouse, Fred pointed at the two white tobacco sacks sitting on the edge of the table near the pile of beans. “Lew left these,” he said. “One for each of you.” Fred squinted as he went back to sorting.

  Tommy picked up the nearer bag and felt the weight of coins. He put the bag in his pocket.

  “Aren’t you going to count it?” asked Walt.

  “I can tell by the heft.” In truth, he didn’t think anyone would try to beat him out of his wages, and even if someone did, he didn’t think it would do any good to complain. So it was easy to make a good show.

  Red tucked away his bag in similar fashion. The boys shook hands with the other two punchers, then walked out into the dusk.

  Tommy had an empty feeling as he led his horse away and climbed aboard. He thought it was strange that a chapter in life could end so fast, but he couldn’t imagine how things could have worked out any different. Once he had seen Anita up that close, it was just a matter of time before he would have to ride away from the White Wings Ranch.

  Night had drawn in when Tommy and Red rode into the town of Fenton. Light spilled out of the doorway of the Silver Bit saloon. Closer, Tommy heard piano music and men’s voices.

  “Looks like the café’s still open,” he said. “I don’t know if you want to get anything to eat. I’m still all right after everything we ate at the Mexican camp.”

  “I don’t need anything. Grub, that is.”

  “Shall we just go ahead and see if we can put up at the livery?”

  “Might as well. I think I’ll go in here for a minute first.” Red stopped his horse in front of the saloon. “Get us some snakebite medicine.”

  Tommy felt a tenseness run through him. He and Red did not have an agreement, but they were as good as partners, stuck in this situation together. If Red drank, any problems that came up were Tommy’s as well. He would have to stay on his toes. He knew that much. It was what kids got stuck with.

  Tommy stayed mounted and held the reins of the other horse while Red went into the saloon. A couple of minutes later, Red came out through the swinging doors with a pint of whiskey in his hand. He put it in his saddlebag, took his reins from Tommy, and stepped up into the saddle.

  Two blocks later, they dismounted at the livery stable. They made arrangements to board the horses for the night and to sleep in the straw for another two bits each. Full darkness had settled in by the time they put their horses away, and the lantern in the harness room cast a weak glow from a distance. Tommy and Red leaned back in the straw as Red twisted the stopper out of the bottle.

  “Well, here’s to it,” he said as he held up the bottle and brought it to his lips. He took a moderate sip and lowered the bottle. “It’s not the first time I’ve been out on the street, and I don’t suppose it’ll be my last.”

  “Same with me,” said Tommy.

  “I’ll tell you, though. I’d rather be out of a job than takin’ orders from someone like Lew Greer.”

  “I think that’s what they call making a virtue out of necessity.”

  “I don’t know as many big words as some people do.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “Well, here’s what I think.”

  Tommy waited as Red took another sip.

  “I think it probably saved us some trouble, gettin’ fired like that.”

  “Could very well be.”

  “But it was still a high-handed thing to do. They did it because they could. Greer, he just likes to rub your nose in it. But he wouldn’t do it if Vinch didn’t want him to.”

  “Maybe not.”

  “Vinch is the son of a bitch. You remember all the stuff he said the other night, about being cattlemen and being here first? He really does think he’s high and mighty.”

  “They think they’ve earned it.”

  “They think they own everything. They think they’ve got a right to push anyone around. But they’re not as smart as they think.”

  Tommy could see that Red was warming to the whiskey, and he decided not to feed the fire. So he said nothing.

  “It would serve ’em right if someone pulled a little move on ’em.”

  Tommy frowned. He had an inkling of what Red meant. “Like what?” he asked.

  “They wouldn’t know about it. Be better if no one else did.” Red’s features relaxed as he smiled. “Just to show we could do it. Never leave a trace.”

  Tommy shook his head. “I think it would be better to leave that alone.”

  “Oh, it’s just somethin’ to think about. Nothin’ we have to do if we don’t want. But the chance is always there. Just knowin’ you could do it is a good joke.”

  “I’d rather find something else to laugh at, not to mention something better to think about.”

  Red took another drink. “To tell you the truth, I would, too.” His eyelids drooped as he nodded.

  “Then I’ve got a good idea of what we can do tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  The boys rode into the Mexican settlement from the south instead of from the west as before, and the sun hung overhead at midday. The change of perspective, in addition to the presence of people outside, made the place seem less sleepy and relaxed than on the first two visits. Tommy saw right away that Anita and her cousin Elsa were stirring a laundry tub that hung over a low fire. Gabriel was hoeing weeds in a small garden enclosed by a battered wire fence. Out in the open, not far from the water trough, a man was combing a shiny bay horse that had a white blaze and four white socks.

  The man wore a straw hat, a drab cotton shirt, and faded denim trousers. On second glance, Tommy recognized him as the man who had spoken to the girls and had told Raimundo about the stray burro. In plainer clothes with
his belly sagging, he did not carry himself with as much authority as before. All the same, he saw fit to turn his back on the boys as he groomed the horse.

  The girls turned from their work and gave friendly glances, but Tommy sensed that they were inhibited by the other man’s presence. Only Gabriel seemed unaffected. He climbed over the fence and walked forward with the hoe on his shoulder.

  “Hey, boys. You’re back. You look like you’re going somewhere.”

  Red tipped back his hat as his horse came to a stop. “It’s not so much where we’re goin’ as where we’re comin’ from. We don’t work for Cushman anymore.”

  Gabriel’s eyes widened. “Huh! Did you quit?”

  “No, we got fired.”

  “¡Hombre! I better go tell my father.”

  The girls were watching as Red hooked his right leg up and over the saddle horn and slid off the saddle into a standing position. Tommy did not have that maneuver rehearsed yet, so he dismounted in the regular way, swinging his leg up and over the gear tied onto the back of his saddle.

  In what might have been otherwise a vacant moment, another person appeared. A woman in a dark blue dress and shoulder-length dark hair walked past the man combing his horse. Even from a distance, Tommy could see that they ignored each other. The woman walked with an impressive movement of her hips. Tommy guessed her to be at least ten years older than he was, and as such, she did not steal his interest. But he could see that she was a full woman. She waved to the two girls tending to the laundry and called out a greeting in Spanish. The girls spoke back in cheery tones. The woman spoke a shorter greeting to Gabriel as he went back to his work, and she went into the Villarreal household. Tommy looked at Red, and he was sure his friend had not missed the scene.

  Raimundo emerged from in back of the house. He was wearing a battered brown hat, a collarless grey shirt, and greyish-brown canvas trousers. The front of his shirt and the lap of his pants had dust and bits of grass clinging to them. He looked over the boys and the horses as he walked forward.

  When he stopped, he brushed himself off and said, “Surprised to see you again. You’re not working over there anymore?”