Fool's Gold

by Steve Stroble

into a large bucket. He then eviscerated the still fierce looking animal. All of its abdominal and thoracic organs fell into the wooden trough that had been moved directly under the dangling carcass. James quickly separated the intestines and pushed them to one end of the long trough.

  Bates’ pack of 17 dogs knew that this might be their only chance to join in the feasting to come. They paced and barked expectantly as Dominic and Thomas cut the stomach, kidneys, liver, heart, lungs, and other organs into pieces. The entire pack was salivating by the time the two began delivering handful after handful of the offal to the begging canines.

  “We got to give each one of them hounds a little at a time,” James told his assistants. “If’n we lets all the guts spill out on the ground like I seen other folks do, them dogs be fighting each other trying to get the biggest piece of the innards.”

  The process was slow but peace was maintained. As the happy dogs left to find shady spots in which to nap and digest their meals James explained the next step to his assistants.

  “Now that I got all the crap pushed out of the intestines and into that hole you all dug, we got to clean them up real good. This be a real important thing,” James said. “I sees folks who be skipping this part be getting sick to their death after they eats whatever they be cutting up. Start bringing the water on over while I fills up the hole with dirt.”

  They shuttled buckets of boiling water taken from a huge kettle that had been suspended over a large fire that was near the trough until James was satisfied that the cleansing was complete.

  “Now that it’s had a real hot bath we can be cooking them. Help me to put them into the pot.” After the transfer to the pot had been made, James led them to the pump next to one of the farm’s wells. “Okay, let’s wash up real good. Got to get all the blood and guts off of us before Mrs. Bates puts us in our uniforms.”

  James removed the large apron that had protected his clothing during the butchering. He took off his shirt and washed every inch of his torso, hands, and arms with the fine sweet smelling soap Mrs. Bates had made from olive oil. He then had Dominic pour a bucket of water over his head and shampooed his blood-splattered hair. His assistants copied him. Refreshed and smelling much more pleasant, the trio returned with three buckets of water from the well and added it to the simmering pot of intestines.

  They next turned their attention to the swaying steer. As his helpers slowly lowered it James guided the bovine to a position atop the trough. The legs that dangled over the sides of the trough until the hooves touched the ground and the head that flopped over one of its ends amused Dominic.

  “He is still alive!” He cried in mock horror. “He’s going to get his revenge by sticking his horns in James again.”

  “Now look here.” James snapped at the grinning Dominic, who had placed two forefingers on his head as fake horns. “Some things be funny but some ain’t.” He pointed at his still scarred legs. “I be limping the rest of my life cause of this bad boy. I wish Mr. Bates let me shoot him right off after he run his horns into me. Instead, Mr. Bates only lets me cut his balls off.”

  Dominic blinked and retracted his wiggling horns. “I’m sorry.”

  “It be okay. You be thinking hard before you be joking about other people’s pain, okay?”

  Thomas changed the subject. “Why you cook that part of cow?” He pointed at the stewing intestines.

  “Well up here in these here parts, they calls it tripe. Mr. Bates has us cook it cause some peoples ‘round here be liking it better than the rest of the cow. Back down in Georgia there be mostly pork to eat. So we be taking the pig intestines and making chitterlings out of it. I eats it one time. Got so sick I was crapping out of one end and upchucking out of the other. After that I decides that maybe the Lord don’t wants us to be eating no part of animals that spent its days holding and pushing crap.” James pinched his nose. “Enough of this jabbering. Use those saws to cut off its legs at the knee.”

  The helpers took only a few moments to remove them.

  “Okay, now one of you saw off the head while the other cuts off the tail.”

  “You cook head, yah?” Thomas wondered if Americans ate that portion of cattle also.

  “Nah. Take the brains out and give it to any hounds still be hungry. Then let ‘em play with the head.”

  James then skinned the animal. “Mrs. Bates be sewing a real fine coat for Mr. Bates out of this here cow hide. Now don’t you be telling him, it’s gonna be a surprise for Christmas. I gonna smile every time I see him wearing it. It be nice to see him wearing this cow’s hide.”

  Next James skewered the corpse with an 11-foot long piece of iron. With James and Dominic on one end of the skewer and Thomas on the other, they carefully positioned the main course for the party over the glowing coals of a second fire that James had lit two hours earlier. It usually was not for Mr. Bates’ company that partygoers assembled at his home; rather it was to taste and enjoy James’ culinary masterpieces. Now came the moment that he would fully initiate the apprentice butchers and cooks.

  “Okay, now I be telling you my secret as long as you both be swearing you never ever tell no one else.”

  Dominic and Thomas nodded their vows of secrecy.

  “First off, it ain’t just Mr. Bates’ sauce that be making peoples come from miles around to his parties. That only be one reason. The way you cooks meat is real important, too. So’s what you does is cook it real slow. This here beef take a while to cook. That means the three of us be taking turns feeding the fire and turning the spit. Now cooking it real slow ain’t all. Lots of folks knows all about that. The other thing is the kind of wood you be using to make the heat and smoke.”

  “Ah. You used oak to build big fire. You use oak to cook cow, yah?” Thomas asked.

  “Well, the oak is to get it started cooking. What we be adding now is all them pruned branches I been saving up in the barn. You knows the ones I talking about?”

  The cook’s helpers nodded.

  “Good. Now you go and brings all of them branches out of the barn over here.”

  It took them a quarter-hour to carry the remnants of cherry, apple, walnut, apricot, and hickory trees back to the sizzling beef.

  “But isn’t this too much wood?”

  “Nope. We cooking this here beef from now until tomorrow afternoon. A whole day and night.” James then lowered his voice to a whisper. “It be the smoke from these kind of tree branches that gives the meat mighty fine flavor for sure.”

  James took the first four-hour shift of feeding the three-foot by seven-foot bed of coals. The following day he was applying the last coat of Bates’ sauce to the steer when the master pulled through the gate with the barrels of beer.

  “Good Lord, Almighty, James. I’ve been a smelling that beef cooking for the last half-hour. I would’ve made the horses go faster but then the barrels of beer would’ve bounced out the back of the wagon. The smoke be drifting quite a ways. I know the party ain’t for another hour but I can’t wait, by thunder.” Bates jumped from the still moving wagon and ran to the sizzling beef. The meat fell from the bone as he stabbed at it with his cutlass, a gift from a retired navy officer. Bates carefully balanced the morsel on the shiny blade. He drooled as it slid down his throat. “James, this be even better than last time.” Bates sheathed the weapon back into its scabbard. “Where’s Dominic? I got to show him how to serve the beer.”

  “He gets fancied up in his costume.”

  “Good. You best go get dressed too. The guests will be showing up soon.”

  James joined the other two in the main house. They had already donned the used servant’s attire that Mr. Bates had purchased two decades ago. Somewhat outdated, the outfits included shiny black shoes with silver buckles, long white silk stockings that covered their calves because the tight fitting white pants only extended to right below the knees, and dark blue blazers adorned with gold buttons. Mrs. Bates was adjusting the powdered white wigs on the squirming Dominic and Thomas. Th
ey felt like schoolboys being dressed for the first day of the school year.

  “Don’t they look fine?” James smiled as he walked to the large combination dressing room and closet where the outfits were stored. “Get on over to where Mr. Bates is setting up the beer, Dominic. Looks like you all get to be the barkeep today. Don’t be sampling too much.” He closed the closet door to change into his uniform.

  “I think I belong back in France when the kings and queens ruled,” muttered Dominic as he and Thomas made their way to Mr. Bates.

  “If I look as silly as you do, you are right.” Thomas shrugged. “But this be easier than working in fields and making furniture, yah?”

  Bates greeted them as they approached. “I hardly recognized either of thee. Those servants’ uniforms be one of the best investments I ever made. Got them at an estate sale when one of the richest men in Philadelphia died. Okay. You two help me unload the beer barrels on the table here. Be careful. They be as heavy as any piece of furniture you be making.”

  Bates deftly tilted the upright barrels one at a time and rolled them on edge to the end of the wagon bed. Dominic and Thomas guided each one onto the sturdy table that stood almost as high as the bed of the wagon. Bates joined them on the ground. He next practiced the art of running a beer tap with Dominic. Satisfied that the neophyte dispenser knew how to handle