Backlands

by Michael McGarrity

  She turned and walked away, and Matt’s heart soared. But she didn’t speak to him again that entire day and only nodded a brief hello when they saw each other during the rest of the school week. Over the weekend, Matt complained to Boone about Clementine’s lack of interest in him.

  “Look, she may be toying with you,” Boone said. “Don’t make any moves. See if she comes to you.”

  It was hard to follow Boone’s advice, but Matt kept his distance from Clementine. Several weeks passed before she approached him again, to ask him to walk her home after school. Along the way, she questioned him about other boys in their class, particularly Warren Bristol, son of the richest man in town. Matt told her Warren was a good guy and left it at that. He went home deflated by the realization that she wasn’t interested in him at all. Two weeks later as he sat with Boone in the Rio Grande Theater waiting for the matinee to start, Clementine walked in accompanied by Warren. Matt pointed her out to Boone.

  Boone gave her a careful once-over. She had a face perfect for the ads in the ladies’ fashion magazines and wore a stylish skirt that showed her legs nicely.

  “She’s a looker; that’s for sure,” Boone said. “But she’s not right for you.”

  “Why not?” Matt grumped.

  “Because you ain’t the richest boy in town,” Boone replied with a laugh.

  ***

  On December 1, 1927, a letter came from Tía Teresa announcing the date of Evangelina’s marriage to Porter Knox and telling Matt he must come and bring that handsome Boone along with him. With the wedding scheduled to be held on New Year’s Eve, Matt figured the baile was going to be one hell of a party. He wrote back that he’d be there for certain but sadly without Boone, who would be traveling back to Detroit to visit his family over the holidays.

  A week before Christmas, Matt drove Boone to the station for his journey home to Detroit.

  “Now, don’t you sulk over my absence while I’m gone,” Boone chided, punching Matt on the arm. “And don’t wreck my car either.”

  “Good riddance,” Matt shot back. “I won’t miss you at all.”

  Boone cuffed him on the arm again. “Take care, sport. See ya next year.”

  Already beginning to feel dismal, Matt stayed on the platform until the train left the station. Christmas fell on a Sunday and he wouldn’t leave for Tularosa until midweek. He wasn’t about to go to the ranch to see Pa for Christmas; that would be pure agony.

  Nestor and Guadalupe had invited him for Christmas dinner, so he wouldn’t be completely on his own. Still, he felt lonely, which was different from being alone in a way he couldn’t quite figure out.

  17

  Matt bought new clothes to wear at Evangelina’s wedding, packed a bag, and drove through a rare, dense snowstorm to Tularosa. The slushy gravel road made for slow going, but Matt didn’t mind. There was almost no traffic, and until a weak sun finally broke through the slate-gray sky, it felt like traveling through a huge, silent, mesquite-studded cocoon.

  At Tía Teresa’s hacienda, the wedding and baile preparations had all the womenfolk occupied. After a round of welcoming hugs and kisses, Matt was sent off with Juan Ignacio to pick up grommets at Champion’s Hardware Store that were needed to hang the wall decorations for the baile. He held Juan on his lap and let him steer the car and gleefully beep the horn on the short drive to Main Street. Juan was now four years old and had sprouted some since Matt last saw him. With his curly hair, oval eyes, and slightly turned-up nose, he looked more and more like his mother. He seemed calmer now that he wasn’t living at the ranch.

  At the store, they picked up the grommets, which were paid for, bagged, and waiting, and walked hand in hand to the drugstore, where Matt bought Juan a Coke at the soda fountain.

  “What do you think about getting a new pa?” Matt asked as Juan blissfully sipped his soda.

  Juan smiled. “I like it. He’s nice.”

  “That’s swell,” Matt said. “Do you ever miss the ranch?”

  “No,” he answered matter-of-factly. “My real father doesn’t like me, and he didn’t let me have a puppy.”

  “Do you have one now?”

  “Sí, Porter Knox got me one. I named him Pelo because he’s so furry. He’s going to adopt me; that’s what Mama says.”

  “Who? Pelo?” Matt asked jokingly.

  Juan kicked his feet and laughed. “No, you loco—Porter Knox. Mama says I have to call him papá.”

  “Is that okay with you?”

  Juan shrugged. “Sí.”

  “Why do you call him Porter Knox?”

  “Because that’s his name,” Juan answered, eyeing Matt as though he was really dumb. “We’re moving to Albuquerque.”

  “When?”

  Juan shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll miss you.”

  Juan sucked down the last of his soda through the straw. “It’s not that far away,” he said, sounding very worldly for a four-year-old. “Tía Teresa showed it to me on a map. Can I have some candy?”

  “Pick out what you want,” Matt said.

  “Chocolate,” he announced.

  Back at the hacienda, Evangelina confirmed the move to Albuquerque. Porter had been hired as a carpenter for a construction company building new houses near the university and was already on the job. He would leave early Friday after work in order to make it home for the wedding but was expected back on the job Monday morning. He’d rented a small house in the Old Town part of Albuquerque, but it would be up to Evangelina to make the move, which she looked forward to with great anticipation. Matt had never seen her so zestful and excited about the future.

  “Just so you know,” she added, “when Porter adopts Juan, we plan to legally change his name to Juan Ignacio Kerney Knox. I don’t want him to ever forget he’s part of your family.”

  “There’s not much of my family left,” Matt noted. “But I’m obliged. I doubt I’ll ever have another brother.”

  ***

  Bad weather slowed Porter Knox’s return to Tularosa, but he still got back in time for Flaviano and all the men in the Armijo and Chávez families to carry him off to the best speakeasy in town for a drink or two. Invited to come along, Matt used the opportunity to size up Porter. Small in stature, as Tía Teresa had noted during Matt’s last visit, Knox had a congenial disposition and a calm manner. A bald spot crowned his round head, and a neatly trimmed mustache made his lips look thinner, but his smile was warm and friendly. Knox was now able to get by in Spanish, and his effort to learn the language to please Evangelina had also paid dividends with the men of both families, who celebrated the upcoming nuptials with many long-winded toasts to the couple’s happiness. Glasses were also raised in unison to the frequent and blessed prospect of babies, which began another round of toasting, until Matt realized he was too drunk to understand what was being said. When the party broke up, Teresa’s oldest son, Juan, guided him slowly on his wobbly legs back to the hacienda.

  “On the night my baby brother, Miguel, was born, your father was bringing home my very borracho father from a cantina where he’d gotten into a fight,” he said, leaning Matt against the hacienda courtyard wall.

  “No fight at the bar tonight,” Matt protested, trying to focus. “I think.”

  “Sí, no fight,” Juan agreed, not completely sober by any means. “But here we are repeating history.”

  “No babies being born either,” Matt corrected, shaking his head. “Leastways not yet.”

  “Sí, no babies yet,” Juan agreed. “You are very borracho.”

  Matt shook his head again and wagged a finger at Juan. “I resent that remark.”

  “Are you always so contrary?”

  Matt nodded. “But only when I drink. Otherwise I’m obliging.”

  “How many times have you been drunk?”

  Matt held up a finger. “Once, an
d I don’t think I like it. I need the baño.”

  “No, you need the bushes, my amigo,” Juan said, guiding him to the cottonwood tree across the lane.

  ***

  A sober, fully recovered Matt loved every minute of the wedding ceremony and the baile. Time and again throughout the afternoon and night, as he watched Porter and Evangelina he’d substitute an image of himself dancing with Clementine, but it was wishful thinking and he knew it. He still smarted over her rejection.

  He danced with all the women, including Evangelina’s cute cousin, who harassed him for not bringing Boone to the wedding, and Tía Teresa, who made him promise to invite her to his high school graduation in the spring.

  “Your mother would want me to be there for her,” she said. “Also, I must come because you are family to me and always will be.”

  “I want you to come,” Matt replied earnestly, suddenly realizing that without her he’d have no family there at all to celebrate the occasion.

  “Then it is settled,” Teresa said, smiling, as the music ended. “Now, go dance with all the young señoritas again. They cannot take their eyes off you.”

  He danced with the girls until the music stopped, a final toast was raised, some bawdy comments were made by Evangelina’s drunken brothers, and the bride and groom departed amid much hooting and hollering.

  In the morning, before the revelers who were staying with Teresa awoke, he shared a quiet breakfast with her, said good-bye to Juan Ignacio, who raised his sleepy head from his pillow to give him a kiss, and left Tularosa.

  At home, too restless to stay put inside all alone, Matt saddled Patches and went for a long ride, letting his pony stretch out at a fast lope along the Rio Grande. It was the first day of 1928, and come spring he planned to be the high school valedictorian, and come fall a college man. He thought about figuring a way to needle Pa for trying to grind him down about having unrealistic expectations and decided it wasn’t worth the effort.

  Thinking about Pa began to sour his mood, so instead he thought about Boone’s return from his visit to his family in Detroit. A week wasn’t that long to wait, and the prospect of having his best friend return home raised his spirits considerably. About the only thing lacking in the New Year was getting out from under Pa’s thumb.

  Bending forward, he whispered into Patches’ ear, “Only two more years,” and spurred him into a gallop toward Robledo Mountain.

  ***

  The Saturday before school break ended, Matt filled in for a sick clerk at Sam Miller’s store. Boone was due in on the two o’clock train, and Matt had left a note at the house letting him know what he was doing. He fully expected Boone to saunter into the store around three, but the hour came and went with no sign of him. At ten minutes past four o’clock, Boone breezed in with a big smile on his face, hand in hand with a young woman he introduced as Mrs. Boone Cavanagh Mitchell.

  “But she goes by Peggy,” he announced.

  Matt could barely speak. “Well, I’ll be,” he blurted. “Congratulations.” She was a tall girl, with long brown hair and a thin but pretty face that matched her narrow frame.

  “Boone says you are a dear friend,” Peggy said. “I hope you’ll be mine as well.”

  Matt smiled. “I’d like that.”

  “Surprised?” Boone asked, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Flummoxed,” Matt said.

  “It happened in a hurry,” Boone said with a laugh as he slapped Matt on the back. “Mind if we camp out with you until we can find a place to rent? Peggy promises to cook you up some fine meals in return for your hospitality.”

  “I’m a good cook,” Peggy added. “You won’t be disappointed.”

  “You can stay as long as you like,” Matt replied.

  At home after work, Matt found the front room filled with neatly stacked luggage of various sizes, one large steamer trunk, and several packing crates. The smell of baked ham came wafting from the kitchen.

  “Sorry for the clutter, but Peggy couldn’t bear to leave anything behind,” Boone said. “We walked from the station, got the car, and then made four trips to haul everything over from the freight room. I guess she’s planning to stick with me for a while.” He grinned and added, “She’s fixing us a good dinner.”

  “I didn’t even know you had a girl,” Matt said.

  “I didn’t either until I went home,” Boone replied sheepishly. “We’d called it quits just before I moved here. But you know women—they can change their minds.”

  “What are you going to do about college?” Matt asked.

  “I’ll finish the semester, but I’ve got a wife to support now,” Boone answered. “Mac at the garage might take me on full-time, or maybe I can go to work at the Ford dealer. I was wondering if we could rent one of those houses owned by your trust.”

  “I’ll ask Mr. Worrell at the bank.”

  “That would be jake. But no matter what, I promise we won’t intrude on you for long, and I’ll keep paying you my rent. You can up it if you want.”

  Matt shook his head. “Nope, I don’t want your money. You and Peggy are my guests until you get settled.”

  “You are one hell of a friend, even if you are still just a kid.”

  “Drop the kid stuff, or I’ll change my mind about letting you stay,” Matt warned.

  “It’s permanently dropped,” Boone promised.

  Peggy called them into the kitchen for dinner and served up baked ham, cauliflower with a cheese sauce, and green peas with melted butter dribbled on top. It was delicious. Over dinner, Peggy described the mad rush that occurred once they decided to get married. It had been a whirlwind marathon to get a license, find a judge to perform the ceremony, arrange for parents and nearby relatives to attend, get everything packed for shipment, and finally make it to the train station on time.

  “We rode coach all the way from Detroit to Las Cruces,” she added with a smile. “It was exhausting.”

  “I’ve promised her a real honeymoon someday, when we can afford it,” Boone said.

  “At least you got her a wedding ring,” Matt said, looking at the gold band on Peggy’s ring finger.

  Peggy held up her hand and laughed. “It’s my mother’s. Something borrowed.”

  “I’ve promised her a ring of her own too, someday real soon,” Boone added shamefacedly. “I sort of ran out of money.”

  Matt laughed. “This is like a love story out of one of those ladies’ magazines.”

  Peggy snuggled close to Boone. “Pretty romantic, I think.”

  Boone gave her a kiss as Matt started to clear away the dishes.

  “Don’t you dare do that!” Peggy commanded, breaking away from Boone. “We’ll take care of the dirty dishes.”

  “Best do as you’re told,” Boone said, reaching for Matt’s empty plate.

  Matt yielded with a grin. “I’ll tend to Patches,” he said, thinking Boone was one helluva lucky guy.

  18

  On graduation day, Matt gave his valedictory speech to the families, friends, and guests gathered to celebrate the Las Cruces High School class of 1928. As expected, Pa didn’t come, but Tía Teresa arrived the day before, accompanied by Juan Ignacio, who would spend the summer with her in Tularosa. Boone and Peggy attended as well, as did Nestor, Guadalupe, and Matt’s boss from the grocery store, Sam Miller.

  Boone and Peggy threw a swell graduation party for Matt in the backyard of the house they rented from the trust. His favorite high school teacher, Mrs. Elizabeth Pickett, came with her daughter Nell, who was the smartest girl in Matt’s graduating class. They had been dating since early spring, much to the dismay of Lester Nichols, his best friend from school, who came to the party red-faced, tipsy, and glum after drinking moonshine at another graduation party. When Matt’s party wound down, he thanked Boone and Peggy, said good-bye to Tía Teresa and Juan Ignacio, and slipped awa
y to Nell’s party. There he found Lester mooning over Nell on the front porch and Mr. Pickett serving up his renowned barbecue brisket and German potato salad to a line of hungry guests. After dark, the celebrating continued at Lester’s house, where the class of 1928 gathered with their dates to dance to records, sneak a drink or two, smoke cigarettes, talk about the future, and pet and smooch in the far reaches of the backyard, away from the flickering party lanterns. Darlene Fox, considered the class Goody Two-shoes, helped Lester overcome his unrequited love for Nell with some heavy petting behind a big cottonwood tree. It was the best party of the day.

  Starting out, Matt had been miffed that Pa didn’t make the effort to attend his graduation and offer his congratulations. But the next morning, he awoke without a twinge of annoyance about Pa’s absence. If Pa didn’t care a lick, it wasn’t worth Matt’s time worrying about it. It was as simple as that.

  Over the summer on an early July evening, Pa paid a quick visit to inform Matt he’d once again taken the annual profit from the trust to use for the ranch, this time to buy new breeding stock to rebuild the herd he’d been forced to sell during the drought.

  “Are you coming out to the ranch this summer?” he asked.

  “What for?” Matt replied.

  “Nothing, I guess,” Pa answered. “It has pretty much dried up between us, ain’t it?”

  “Appears so,” Matt said.

  Pa turned on his heel and walked away without saying another word.

  Matt planned to keep working part-time clerking for Sam Miller when he started the fall term at New Mexico College of Agricultural and Mechanical Arts. But once classes began, he found the classwork more challenging than he’d imagined and had to quit the job. He’d enrolled in science and mathematics courses, thinking to pursue an engineering degree, and hadn’t counted on such a heavy homework burden. He kept to a rigorous study schedule, never missed a class, and by the middle of the term had high grades on all his papers and tests.