A Season of Dreams

by Gilbert, Morris

  Ray felt his hand swallowed by the massive fist of the young tramp. He looked in the mild blue eyes and swallowed. “I guess I owe you for this, Bailey.”

  “Aw, it wasn’t nothing,” Bailey mumbled. He turned and lumbered out, clutching the dollar in his fist. “I’ll be right back,” he said. “There was a store a ways back.”

  “He’s a rough-looking fellow. He could do considerable damage if he set his mind to it.”

  Violet went over and sat beside Ray, holding his hand. “It’s like I said, he’s kept me safe, Ray. I think he’s an angel of some kind—a mighty big one.” She laughed, filled with relief at finding her brother. “I’m so glad to see you. Everything will be all right now.”

  “I just don’t see how we’re going to get out of this,” Ray said hopelessly. “I don’t want to go home a failure.” He was much better now. The slight store of money that Violet had left had bought enough food to give him some strength, but the temperature was dropping. The three of them sat huddled around the campfire under the bridge talking about what they should do. It was settled that Bailey was going with them. Ray had learned to appreciate the young man, but he was still discouraged. He suddenly sat upright and said, “Maybe I could get a job with Uncle Pete at his oil rig. I’m sure he could use the help.” He looked at Violet. “Bailey can take you home, but I’m going to Oklahoma.”

  Violet stared evenly at Ray and replied, “I’m going with you. I almost lost you once. I won’t let that happen again.”

  Bailey had listened to the two talk for hours. Finally, he got up and said, “I’m going out for a while.”

  “What! It’s cold! Stay here by the fire, Bailey,” Violet had protested.

  But Bailey shook his head and left without another word. He returned late that afternoon. Coming to a halt in front of them he said, “Come on—we’re going.”

  Violet and Ray had glanced at each other astonished. “Going where? What do you mean, Bailey?”

  “I found a feller going to Oklahoma. You said you have an uncle there, didn’t you? Somewhere around Oklahoma City?”

  “Why yes, my uncle Pete. But how are we going to get there?”

  A smile pulled the corners of Bailey’s mouth upward. “It’s a surprise! Come on—get all your stuff together.”

  “I don’t know what he’s talking about, but he does, I guess,” Violet said. It was not the first time that Bailey had found some way to get them out of a predicament, but this seemed too farfetched. “Come on, let’s see what he’s got,” she said to Ray. The three of them gathered their pitiful belongings together and moved out from underneath the bridge. When they got to the roadway at the top, they saw a huge bobtruck parked with the engine throbbing. A man was standing there, his arms crossed and a cap pulled down over his ears. He looked up, snapping with considerable irritation, as Bailey approached. “Hurry up! I ain’t got much time,” he said.

  “What is all this?” Violet said. “You’re going to give us a ride to Oklahoma?”

  “That’s the deal. My name’s Purdy. Two of you can ride in front, but one of you will have to ride in back with the load. I’ve got a little space back there.” He gave Ray a rough glance, then added, “The looney here told me that you’ve been sick—you’d better lie down back there. It’ll be warmer than this blasted cab.”

  Violet protested, but the man was impatient and said, “Either get in or stay—it don’t make no difference to me.”

  “You’re going to Oklahoma?” Ray asked.

  “If you ever get in I am.”

  That settled the matter. Violet settled Ray down in the space in the back. The truck was loaded with bathroom fixtures that were crated up, but there was a space, eight feet square or less, long enough for him to lie down on. “This will be fine for me,” Ray said, wrapping blankets about him and bundling one for a pillow. “I can sleep real good. It sure is warmer than under that bridge!”

  Bailey and Violet scrambled into the cab. Purdy engaged the gears and the truck shuddered as he pulled out. The cab was relatively warm, and Violet said, “We sure thank you for giving us a ride.”

  “Don’t thank me—it’s a business deal.”

  “A business deal?” Violet stared at him, but he shrugged his shoulders and said no more.

  They drove straight through to Oklahoma, the weather growing warmer as they moved south. Ray slept long hours, exchanging places with Bailey to ride in the cab from time to time. They had eaten all their provisions, and when Purdy pulled over to the side and set them off in Oklahoma City they had not eaten for twelve hours. Purdy said, “Here we are in Oklahoma City. Best I can do,” he said.

  Violet tried to thank him as she did before, but he said nothing. He climbed into the cab and the three of them watched the big truck rumble off.

  “Well, it’s warm here—at least warmer than Illinois,” Ray said. “Let’s find Uncle Pete.”

  “That shouldn’t be too hard. If I have to I’ll make a collect call to Uncle Amos.” She looked up at the sky and said, “It’s getting pretty late. Maybe we should do that now. What time is it, Bailey?”

  Bailey stared at her and shrugged his shoulders.

  Violet was puzzled. He always took great pride in pulling his watch out and announcing the time. “I don’t know,” he said.

  “Well, let’s see your watch,” Violet insisted.

  Bailey looked down at his battered shoes, mumbling, “I ain’t got it.”

  All of a sudden, Violet understood and tears came to her eyes. “You gave your watch to that trucker to bring us to Oklahoma, didn’t you, Bailey?”

  “Aw, it just got in the way.”

  Violet felt a sudden fresh affection for this huge man who had so little. She turned to Ray and whispered, “It was the only thing he had and he was so proud of it.” Turning back to him, she said, “You shouldn’t have done it, Bailey.”

  Bailey summed up his feelings in one sentence. “I guess that’s what friends are for.”

  Ray watched the scene and finally cleared his throat huskily. “Well, let’s make that call. We’ve got to find Uncle Pete.” He threw his arm around the massive shoulders of the big man and grinned. “Welcome to the Stuart family, brother!”

  DENT TAKES A VACATION

  Logan pulled the slip of paper out of his pocket, unfolded it, then handed it to Denton. “Just got this here telegram from Pete and thought you ought to know about it, Dent.”

  Quickly, Dent scanned the telegram that said: “Ray and Violet are here with me. Both fine. Don’t worry.” Handing the telegram back, he said, “Well, that’s a load off my mind!”

  Logan nodded slowly. “Mine, too, of course. But I’m still worried about them—and about Pete, too.”

  “What’s the trouble, Logan?”

  “It’s hard times for Pete. He’s got his family there—his wife’s sick. Amos’s daughter Maury’s there trying to help, but Pete don’t need two extra mouths to feed.”

  “Why don’t they come home?”

  “Same old story—too stubborn. Ray wants to make it on his own. Violet would probably come, but I don’t want her hitchhiking across the country.”

  A broad smile suddenly split the face of Dent DeForge. He was a restless man, the best mechanic in the county, or anywhere else for that matter, as he often boasted. He frequently took off just to see what the other side of the hill looked like, coming back when he ran short of money. He was in demand in Fort Smith and had offers of good jobs in Little Rock and St. Louis, but he liked the hills and the hunting and could not seem to stay away from the Ozarks for long.

  “Why, I guess it’s about time for me to have a little vacation.”

  “A vacation?” Logan stared at Dent in consternation. “What’re you talking about?”

  “Well, I just got a Model T Ford, and right now I’m in between jobs. Besides that,” he said defensively, “I always did want to see one of those oil wells. Reckon I’ll just mosey on over to Oklahoma and take a look-see around. I’ll pick up
Violet and bring her home. I’ll try to get Ray to come, too.”

  “Do you think you could do that, Dent?”

  “Do it! Why, there’s nothing I can’t do!”

  “Except be modest, I reckon.”

  “I’ll leave first thing in the morning. Have them back here in no time—after I have a little vacation, of course!”

  The family was eating supper when a knock came on the door of the shack. The room was crowded to its extremities. In addition to Pete, Stephen, Mona, and Maury, the latest arrivals were crowded around the table. Ray, Violet, and Bailey seemed to fill the whole room—especially Bailey!

  They had been there for almost a week. Ray had suffered a relapse and had spent most of his time sleeping in the bed that he shared with the two kids. Bailey bunked in a storage shed, and Violet slept on a pallet in the main room.

  “I wonder who that could be?” Pete said. He got up wearily and moved to the door. Opening it, he found a tall man standing there who looked to be around thirty years old.

  “Are you Mr. Stuart?” he asked.

  “Yes, I’m Pete Stuart. What is it?”

  “Could I come in for a minute? It’s cold out here!”

  “Come on in.” Pete stepped back and let the man enter. He was tall and wiry, and when he pulled off his fedora hat they saw that he had curly brown hair. He had a craggy face, not handsome, but honest looking.

  “My name’s Ted Kingman,” he said, then paused. He seemed to be intimidated by the mob he’d found inside the tiny house.

  “Any relation to Horace Kingman?” Pete demanded.

  “Well, uh—yes, he’s my father, as a matter of fact.”

  “Have a chair,” Pete said. “No, have two chairs. I didn’t know we had such important company coming,” he said sarcastically.

  Not seeing any chairs that weren’t being occupied, Kingman said, “Well, I’ve come at a bad time. I’ve been trying to get around to several of the small owners.”

  “You don’t look like a knee breaker to me,” Pete said.

  “A knee breaker?”

  “Naw, I guess you’d be the other end. Don’t tell me, let me guess—you’re a lawyer?”

  Kingman had fair skin and blushed at the accusation. “As a matter of fact, I am an attorney.”

  “Just out of law school, I guess?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “And just gone to work for Daddy!”

  Violet and Ray were shocked at the harshness of Pete’s barrage of questions. They both knew him to be a kindly, sensitive man, and his anger caught them off guard. They’d heard him speak of Kingman Oil Company being aggressive, but this was the first representative they’d seen.

  “As a matter of fact, I just thought we could do some business, but maybe it’d be best if I stop by tomorrow.”

  “I don’t think we’ve got anything to talk about,” Pete said firmly. “Now, if you’d like to sit down, I think we have a gizzard left from the chicken.”

  Kingman glanced down at the table and his eyes ran around the occupants of the chairs and the boxes that served as chairs. He found something that shocked him—perhaps the poverty that had not existed at Yale, or anywhere else he knew. Still, he stiffened his shoulders and said, “Well, it won’t take but a minute. It’s about a lease.”

  “I know. Your ol’ man wants me to lease this place to him.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” young Kingman said eagerly. “We’d be glad to pay you top price.”

  “I bet,” Pete said. He walked over to the door and said, “Good-bye, Mr. Kingman. Go tell Daddy that there’s nothing shaking.”

  “But the others have mostly all signed . . .”

  “I’ll bet they have—after your ol’ man’s goons busted ’em up.”

  A flush swept over Kingman’s face. “It’s all purely business,” he said stiffly. “I’m making you an honest offer.”

  “And I’m making you an honest offer.” Pete jerked open the door and said, “Go back and tell your daddy that he’ll not get this place!”

  Kingman swallowed hard and looked around the table. “Well, I’m sorry to have disturbed your meal,” he said lamely and turned and left the house.

  “You didn’t have to be so mean, Pa,” Mona scolded. “You’d have paddled me if I’d been that mean.”

  “No, I wouldn’t—not if you’d been that mean to Kingman Oil Company,” Pete grinned, sat down, and took a swallow of coffee, which had grown cold, and set it down. “That’s just the first move—the second really. I got a letter from Kingman a few days ago offering to buy me out. That’s the way it starts. Then you get a visit from a nice, clean, smooth-talking lawyer.”

  Maury said, “He’s not very smooth. As a matter of fact, he acted downright embarrassed. I’ve been around a few lawyers and he’s about the most unassured one I ever saw.”

  “I guess young tigers are cute,” Pete said, “but when they get older they get to be man-eaters. Just give Mr. Ted Kingman a little time and he’ll be as ferocious as the rest of ’em.”

  Later Maury asked Pete, “Why don’t you just sell out, Uncle Pete? There must be something better than burning your life out at this awful place.”

  Pete leaned against the wall and looked down at Maury, who sat peeling potatoes. The house was quiet for a change. Most everyone was outside on a rare break of good weather. “It’d be hard for you to understand, Maury. I don’t mean anything by this,” he added, “but you’ve always had everything.”

  Maury dropped her eyes. “I know,” she said. “That’s what Jerry says—that I’m spoiled rotten. He said I’d never make it here.”

  Pete reached over and patted her shoulder. “Well, when I get ahold of that young man I’ll straighten him out about that,” he said warmly. “You’ve been a godsend to us. I don’t know how we would’ve made it without you, Maury. I know how rough it’s been for you—the outhouse—I know you hate that.”

  “Well, I’m not fond of that element, but I’ve made it.”

  “Sure you have—but it’s been hard on you. The thing is that you’ll be going home when Leslie gets better, back to an easy life. How would you like to have a lifetime of this?” He waved his hand around the rough shack and his eyes were filled with pain. “This is all I’ve got to look forward to, and Leslie and the kids. My only hope is to get that well in.”

  “That’s not certain, is it?”

  “No, but nothin’ is. It’s the only chance I’ve got. Somehow I just know that there’s oil down there! I’ve been in the oil fields for a long time now and I’ve never had a feeling quite like this. I know it’s there—if I can just hang on!”

  Maury was suddenly very fond of her uncle Pete. “You’ll make it,” she said, looking up with a warm smile. She reached out and took his hand and squeezed it. “We Stuarts are pretty tough. If I can put up with an outdoor toilet, then anything’s possible!”

  Pete laughed and squeezed her hand in return. “I’ve got a few things to tell your daddy about you next time I see him,” he said warmly.

  The next day, a dusty Model T pulled up in front of the shack. Violet was looking out the window as she washed dishes and she cried out, “Ray, it’s Dent!”

  “Dent?” Ray came out of his chair and, hurrying over to the window, peered outside. “That son-of-a-gun! You might know he’d show up when you least expect him.”

  Violet rushed to the door and threw it open. “Dent DeForge—what in the world are you doing here?”

  Dent had raised his hand to knock, but dropped it and said, “Well, I came to visit and see what an oil well looks like.” There was a tremendous bustle then as Dent was introduced to the whole family. The kids took to him immediately. He was that kind of man. He’d told Violet once, “You can always trust a man that kids seem to like—like me.”

  She’d snapped back, “That’s not so! Kids trust anybody, even a gangster!” However, she’d been impressed about how all children hung on him.

  “Well, Little Sister,” as he wa
s fond of calling her, “here I am! See, now that you’ve worried your poor ol’ parents to death, you can start on me.”

  “I didn’t mean to worry them—and don’t call me Little Sister!”

  Ray winked and grinned at Dent. “She always did hate for you to call her that.”

  “Why, I’ve practically raised this child,” Dent said in mock astonishment. “That’s gratitude for you. Here I’ve been like a father to her!—”

  “You’re not my father and you’re not my brother.” Violet flushed. “And I don’t want to hear anymore about that!”

  Pete had come in and heard the last of this and said, “Dent, you’re not going to make anything off of her—but I’m glad to see you.”

  “Well, can’t stay long,” Dent said airily. “Looks like you have enough free boarders as it is. Thought I’d just see an oil well and take these wanderers back to the mountains where they belong.”

  Violet and Ray exchanged a glance and Violet said, “We’ve got another now. You got room for an extra passenger?”

  “Why, that car will carry anything I put in it!” At that moment, Bailey came in, and Violet went to stand beside him. “This is Bailey. He’s going back to the mountains with us.” Immediately, Dent grinned and as he shook Bailey’s mighty hand, he said, “Well, we might have to take turns getting out and walking. You’re a big one, Bailey.”

  “He was very kind to me on the road,” Violet said sharply. “If it hadn’t been for him, Ray and I wouldn’t have made it.” She patted Bailey’s arm affectionately, as she would a child.

  Instantly, Dent understood her cue and now said, “Shoot—glad to have you, Bailey. We’ve got plenty of time, so we can see a little of the country on the way home.”

  Later when Violet talked with Dent, she told him of her misfortune and how Bailey had saved her life. “We can’t just leave him here.” She told him about the watch and said, “I’ve got the driver’s name and as soon as I have the money I’m going to buy the watch back.”