Backlands

by Michael McGarrity

  “There is no more income from the trust,” Worrell announced. “Any expenses you incur from now on will be your father’s responsibility until you turn eighteen. In fact, we have no funds to pay last month’s bills.”

  “I’ve got nothing left, right?” Matt asked, kicking himself for not taking all his personal funds out of the bank instead of just two hundred dollars.

  “You have your house and all your personal possessions, but no cash. There is no money to pay for any of the outstanding expenses incurred on your behalf. I’ve informed your father by letter but have yet to hear back from him.”

  Matt got to his feet. “He’ll show up, especially if he stands to lose the Double K.”

  “I’m afraid everyone will suffer in this disaster.” Worrell extended his hand. “Good luck, Matthew.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Matt walked home calculating how far two hundred dollars would last him and came to the grim conclusion that it would barely stretch through to the end of the semester. At the house he threw off his jacket, got the cash out of the coffee tin, and spread the bills out on the kitchen table. Unless he did something about it, Guadalupe and Nestor wouldn’t get paid for their work and Sam Miller would be left high and dry. To keep the money and not settle up wouldn’t be right. Ma had taught him better than that.

  Then there were the electric and telephone bills, feed for Patches, gas for the Studebaker, and money for food when the victuals in the cupboards ran low. He could do without the telephone and get by without electricity if he had to, but even cutting back that much wouldn’t take him very far if he had no money. If he could sell the Studebaker, that would help, but he couldn’t bear the notion of losing Patches. Finally, he could forget about completing his sophomore year or even finishing the current semester.

  Questions, doubts, and anxious worries about what might happen to him and to Beth tumbled through his mind. What if he couldn’t find work? What if Beth was forced to return to Cleveland? What if the bank tried to take the house away to pay debts owed to the stockbroker? Aside from finding a job and seeing if he could get some of his tuition money refunded, he wasn’t sure what else to do. But he knew for certain he wasn’t going to ask Pa for any help.

  He took a deep breath to calm down, counted out the cash he needed to pay what was owed, put the remaining thirty bucks in the coffee tin, grabbed his jacket, and went to knock on Nestor and Guadalupe’s front door. He returned home an hour later to find Pa sitting in his truck in front of the house.

  “What are you doing here?” Matt asked as Pa climbed out to meet him.

  “I came to town to get my false teeth put in,” Pa said, clicking them together. “Mouth’s a little sore, but the dentist says I’ll get used to them soon enough. Glad I bought and paid for them before the crash. I stopped in to see Banker Worrell. He says we’re both broke.”

  “Are you gonna lose the ranch?” Matt asked as he gave Pa a quick once-over. His new false teeth made him look almost respectable, his hair wasn’t all raggedy under his hat, and his eyes were clear.

  “Not if I can help it,” Pa answered. “But the bank is gonna take the pastureland next to the Rocking J unless I can get Al Jennings to buy it at twenty-five cents on the dollar. I think he will. Then if I sell my ponies and cattle at a loss, I’ll save the Double K.”

  “How did you get in such a fix?”

  “I borrowed against that land to buy stock on the margin. I figured if Wall Street was making you good money in that trust, it could damn sure make me some. Dumbest thing I ever did.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Nothing, just came by to say howdy and ask how you’re gonna get by.”

  Matt shrugged. “I don’t know yet.”

  “Come out to the ranch. I know we can scratch out a living together and keep the Double K from going under.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Cut cord wood to haul to town and sell. And catch mustangs out on the basin we can gentle and sell. There’s gotta be hundreds of wild Spanish ponies out there nobody owns to round up. But I’ll need a hand to do it and you’re a damn fine wrangler.”

  Pa’s compliment barely registered. Thinking of Beth, Matt shook his head. “I’m gonna stay put right where I am.”

  “Not interested?”

  “Not right now,” Matt replied.

  “Then I’d best be on my way.”

  “If I bring Patches out to the ranch, will you look after him?”

  Pa nodded. “Don’t see why not. I’ll put him in with Calabaza and Stony; they’re the only two I plan to keep, other than a packhorse or two I might need. I’ll be moseying.”

  “I got pork and beans I can heat up on the stove,” Matt offered, surprised by his blurted invitation.

  Patrick stared at the house that had kept Emma away from him for years; CJ and Matt too, for that matter. “Thank you kindly for the offer, but I’ve a hankering for a sit-down meal at the hotel while I still have a silver dollar or two in my pocket. Want to tag along?”

  “I got somewhere to be soon,” Matt lied. He wouldn’t see Beth until tomorrow evening and had nowhere else to go.

  “Bring Patches out to the ranch anytime. I’ll look after him.”

  “I’m obliged.” Matt stood in the street and watched Pa’s truck disappear around a corner, glad to see him gone and at the same time wondering why he couldn’t hate him.

  ***

  The next day Matt withdrew from his college classes and got a small tuition refund check, which he cashed at the bank right away. Boone Mitchell was on his front stoop with two suitcases in hand when he got home. He’d been let go from the El Paso rail yards and used his last paycheck to send Peg, who was about to have another baby, and Kendell to live with his parents in Detroit until he found a job. He had a thirty-day pass from his old boss to ride the freights so he could look for work up and down the line and was leaving on the morning train for California, where he’d been told that mechanics were being hired for a new trucking company just starting up.

  “I just need a place to hang my hat until I get back on my feet, if you don’t mind my freeloading for a while,” he added. “I’m strapped for cash.”

  “Make yourself at home,” Matt said. “Are you hungry?”

  Boone grinned. “Boy, am I. I’m trying not to spend a penny if I don’t have to.”

  “You’re welcome to join me for a baked bean sandwich and some canned soup.”

  “Sounds like a feast.”

  After they ate, Boone did most of the talking. The new baby was due any day. They’d been about to buy a house when he got laid off, and the seller refused to give back the earnest money deposit. He’d tried to peddle their furniture, but no one was buying, so he just packed his suitcases and left it all behind. He’d sold his car for almost nothing and was using the money to see him through until he found work. If he couldn’t find a job in a month, he’d join Peg and Kendell in Detroit and hope that his father could get him work at the Ford plant where he was a maintenance supervisor.

  He asked about jobs in Las Cruces. Matt told him he’d heard things were bleak although he hadn’t started making the rounds himself. Boone sighed, pulled a hip flask from his coat pocket, and took a big swig. Matt had never known Boone to drink hard liquor before. He wondered if he’d made a mistake in agreeing to let him stay.

  In the morning Boone left early to catch the westbound morning freight. On his way out the door he announced that if he got a job, he’d send Matt the money to ship the big suitcase he left behind. If not, he’d be back by the end of next week.

  Matt wished him luck, fixed a breakfast of coffee and oatmeal with a bit of butter on top, dressed, and spent the day going to every store and business, looking for work. He tried the downtown filling stations, car dealerships, livery stables, warehouses, freight yards, and most of the stores up and d
own Main Street. He returned home late in the afternoon, weary, unemployed, and hungry. He’d saved the twenty-five cents lunch would have cost, knowing he’d be offered dinner with Gus and Consuelo when he carried Beth to the hacienda for her weekend stay.

  He washed up and headed for the sanatorium, mulling what he could say to convince Gus and Consuelo to let Beth accompany him when he took Patches to the Double K. He wasn’t even sure if he could talk Beth into the idea, but he was determined to try to get her out of town and on her own in the hopes of finally wearing down the last of her resistance. His idea was that they’d take the train to Engle and stay over at the hotel for the night before traveling on to the ranch. But Matt wouldn’t mention the stay-over part to Gus and Consuelo. He knew the scheme was a long shot, but it was worth a try. He was tired of being so doggone honorable. It had become painful.

  He sprang his idea on Beth as they drove to the hacienda.

  She wagged her finger at him. “You just want to have your way with me. If Uncle Gus knew, he’d horsewhip you. Does he even have a horsewhip?”

  “Probably somewhere,” Matt ventured. “And he likely knows how to use it. You did say you wanted to see the ranch, remember?”

  “I do want to, but not at the expense of my virtue.”

  “So much for my brilliant idea,” Matt grumbled.

  “Wanting to spirit me away is very romantic.” Beth moved closer. “Would you settle for a partial conquest?”

  “Such as?” Matt put his hand on her leg.

  “A weekend excursion to the ranch with you, me, Tía Consuelo, and Uncle Gus.”

  “How would that work?”

  “I’m sure we can think of something if you’ll remove your wandering hand from my leg and put your scheming, devious mind to work.”

  By the time they arrived at the hacienda, they’d polished their plan. Over dinner Matt explained that he would soon be taking Patches to the ranch and put forward the idea that the Mertons take a weekend jaunt and visit him there. Gus was less than enthusiastic, but Consuelo liked the idea of getting away from all the gloom and doom about the economy for a while. Beth pleaded with her uncle to accept the invitation, arguing with a pout that she’d seen virtually nothing of the state since her arrival. Matt proposed to meet them in Engle and guide them to the ranch to make sure they didn’t lose their way.

  “It’s a far piece to the ranch,” he added, “and you might want to stock up on extra cans of gas and water for the trip.”

  Gus raised an eyebrow. “Are we going on safari or to the Double K?”

  Matt laughed. “It’s the backlands, and folks have been known to get turned around every which way in the mountains and canyons. You’ll have a separate casita all to yourselves, and there’s beautiful scenery most folks never get to see.”

  “I’m all in favor,” Consuelo said.

  Gus glanced from his wife to his niece, who beamed a dazzling smile at him. “Very well, we’ll go. I’ll cancel next Friday’s classes and we’ll leave early for the Double K, which I’m told once harbored notorious outlaws. I hope they are long gone.”

  “Most of them are dead,” Matt remarked with a delighted grin.

  “That’s reassuring. We must be home by Sunday night.”

  Beth clapped her hands, scooted to her uncle’s side, and gave him a kiss. “Thank you, thank you.”

  Gus patted her cheek. “I’m putting you and your aunt in charge of packing provisions. I have no intention of eating overcooked beefsteak and pinto beans morning, noon, and night.”

  When the evening ended, Beth walked Matt to his car, pressed against him, and gave him a long, lingering smooch.

  “How did you get Consuelo to go along with us?” he asked when the kiss ended.

  Beth smiled slyly. “She’s partial to you. All I had to do was ask.”

  “I hope I can get my pa to mind his manners and behave.”

  “That’s up to you.” She kissed him again and said, “Well, at least one of us will be spending the night in the hotel in Engle. Doesn’t that mean you’ve made it to second base with me?”

  “And I thought I was heading for home.”

  “Well, you are, in a way.”

  Matt laughed. “You’re mean. It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

  She nibbled his ear and whispered, “Be patient.”

  ***

  Mr. Roybal’s donkey, blind, barely able to stand, and perhaps the oldest living donkey on the planet, still announced each new morning to the neighborhood with its mournful bray. The honking sound woke Matt with a start, and he sat up in bed, stunned by the sudden realization he’d let his dumb, regrettable plan to seduce Beth spin out of control. What was he thinking inviting them all to the ranch? It was plain loco. He hadn’t been to the Double K since Tía Teresa’s funeral more than a year ago, and he had no idea what shape it was in. How would Pa react to his inviting guests to stay there without his say-so? He felt like a fool for behaving as though he was some sort of swell. Could he call the whole thing off without looking even more ridiculous? Would Beth think him a complete imbecile? Consuelo and Gus too?

  No, by George, he would make it work. After all, they’d only be staying overnight. Besides, Ma had taught him everything about cleaning and putting a house in order. Hadn’t he taken care of her when she was sick and mostly bedridden? If he got started to the ranch pronto and went right at what needed doing, full bore, he’d have the place fixed up and whistle clean before they arrived.

  He slipped into his jeans and pulled on his boots. He had six days to get it done. He pocketed all his remaining money, drank yesterday’s coffee for breakfast, bundled enough clothes to see him through a week, and wrote a note to Beth telling her he was on his way to the Double K with Patches and would meet her next Saturday morning in Engle.

  At the depot, he bought a coach ticket, hurried Patches into a livestock car, dropped the note to Beth in the mailbox, and soon was on his way, the train whistle and the click-clack of the wheels drowning out the bells of St. Genevieve’s Church summoning the faithful to morning Mass.

  22

  Matt was alone at the ranch for three days before Patrick appeared. He took one look at the spic-and-span house and asked Matt if he was moving back in. Half expecting a tongue-lashing, Matt explained what he was up to. Pa shook his head without saying another word, returned to his truck, and started unloading hay bales, tossing them one by one into the barn through the open door. When he finished, he stomped into the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

  “The place ain’t been this tidy in years,” he said, pouring a cup. “I’d hire you on as my housekeeper, except I ain’t got the money.”

  “Is that an insult or a compliment?” Matt demanded.

  “Take it any way you want. Just don’t expect me to lend a hand; I’ve got men’s work to do.”

  Matt’s temper flared. “Why do you always have to dig your spurs in my side? You’re a sorry excuse for a father.”

  “I know it,” Pa replied. “I always have been. Even when I tried to do better with CJ and you I made a mess of it. Best I can say is it ain’t your fault. I’m just built this way and there’s no changing it. Tell you what; I’ll skedaddle up to the cabin before this gal and her relatives show up, so as not to embarrass you.”

  “That would be mighty civilized of you,” Matt drawled.

  Pa drained his coffee and guffawed. “Well, who has the sharp tongue now?”

  “Runs in the family, I reckon.”

  “Reckon so.” Pa put the coffee cup in the wash pan. “I’ll be heading over to the Rocking J in the morning to help Al Jennings shoe some of his ponies.”

  “I’ll surely miss your company.”

  Pa snorted and adjusted his upper plate of sparkling white false teeth with a thumb. “There goes that sassiness again. Remember, you got a job here if you want it. I won’t offe
r it again.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  “Is this gal you’re trying to impress ornamental or useful?”

  “Both.”

  “That’s good.” Pa gazed at the scrubbed-clean kitchen table, the polished windows, the scoured-spotless cookstove. “Because I figure you must have a powerful itch for her to go to all this trouble.”

  The truth of Pa’s words made Matt stiffen. “I don’t plan to embarrass myself.”

  Pa grunted. “Chase that notion out of your head. When it comes to womenfolk, we’re always gonna make fools of ourselves now and then, no matter how hard we try not to.”

  “I guess you’d know something about that.”

  Pa paused at the kitchen door and looked Matt up and down. He’d filled out, gained an inch or two, and wasn’t a kid anymore. “Hobble your lip and stop trying to rile me. I declare a truce between us right here and now. I bought fresh victuals in town and tonight I’m fixing Franco-American spaghetti with meatballs straight out of the can. Join me if you’ve a mind to.”

  “I’ll see you at dinnertime.”

  ***

  For some reason, Pa had completely emptied the casita and stored all the furniture in Matt’s old bedroom. Over the next two days, after getting rid of the black widows, mice, and centipedes that had taken up residence in the casita, Matt cleaned the corner fireplace and chimney, whitewashed the adobe walls, and scrubbed the oxblood dirt floors before moving the furniture back in. In the small front room he set up his old twin bed for Beth, figuring Gus and Consuelo would want her sleeping close by. He’d much rather have her sleeping with him, but since he’d be bunking on the living room couch, he figured that daydream was doomed.

  In two of Ma’s old chests he found bed linens, blankets, and towels, which he washed and dried on the clothesline. When he finally had the casita shipshape, he turned to the last and worst of his chores, cleaning the outhouse. Whitewash, bleach, elbow grease, and a bag of lime that he found in the barn made it tolerably clean and no longer stinky. Afterward he soaked and scrubbed in a tub of hot water to get the smell off.