Hickory Jack (Ben Blue Book 1)

by Lou Bradshaw

  The thought of living in that house so close to her oven had my mouth watering. Andy had been quiet throughout most of the day not sayin more than was necessary, but he opened up. He said, “No disrespect intended, Mr. Thompson, Miss Elizabeth, but Ben and me got some growin up to do. I figure the best place to do it is right here. We can make mistakes and learn by them. We probably won’t put in much corn or wheat, but we can both work stock, and we got some good cows on the Blue pastures. We got hogs and chickens a plenty. We’ll make out.”

  Elizabeth had her leg lifted and was ready to put her foot down again – and did. Her eyes got all skinny with sparks popping out of them. She looked Andy square in the face and asked. “And what about school Mister Andrew Jackson Moore? You need at least one more year and Ben needs at about three more. Your ma wanted you to finish school, and by the Lord I aim to see to it that you do, young man.”

  Poor Andy was flummoxed. It was like Aunt Alice was talking but Elizabeth was sayin the words. He knew when he was licked and looked it. He finally said, “What if we switch off? Ben go one week and I go the next. We can get the work from each other and keep up. Miss Pritchett won’t mind. She’s already talkin about droppin the last two years anyway. There ain’t but a couple of bigger students.”

  “I’ll have to think about that a little and talk to Aman…Miss Pritchett.” she said.

  Mr. Thompson saved the day when he said, “Danged if you ain’t growin some already. You got the right idea, boy. I learned a long time ago that this country ain’t worth a hoot for crops. It’s too rocky, too hilly, and the soil’s too thin. Why, the only corn I grow is for feed. The rest is in grass and clover for pasture. I been tellin folks that for years, but farmers is plum hard headed. Every year I take a herd of cows up to Joplin for cash money, and then I take up a bunch of hogs. That’s why I only got Cletus workin cause the Lord knows I don’t do much.”

  “If you ain’t smarter than all them other knot heads, then I’m a three headed rooster. Your pa was gettin the right idea when he put them cows on the Blue place.”

  I was definitely going to have to stop thinking about him as old man Thompson because he was right on top of things. From that point on in my mind, he was sure enough Mister Thompson.

  Elizabeth glared at her father and said, “I’m still going to have a talk with Amanda Pritchett about this – we’ll see.”

  Well, I was with Andy all the way, but I still figured on making a good many trips over there to visit Miss Elizabeth’s oven.

  The posse came back the next evening, and the sheriff said they had trailed them all the way to about ten miles into Arkansas and had to turn back because they weren’t legal there. He also said he was going to send out fliers and that he would get in touch with the U.S. Marshal in Fort Smith because they were probably heading for the Nations. We were pretty much down in the mouth about the news.

  Chapter 4

  So, our new lives began. We rattled around the first couple of days not really knowing or caring what we were doing or whether we were doing it right. The chores were getting done but not much else. We could handle a skillet and a coffee pot, which meant we wouldn’t starve, but it also meant our tongues were becoming numb. Beef and beans or beans and bacon or beans and eggs got to be old in a hurry. Thank goodness Elizabeth came over from time to time with some variety food. She taught us to bake bread, but ours never turned out near as good as hers.

  She also gave us seven kinds of thunder and lightning about keeping the place cleaned up. She said there wasn’t anything worse than a couple of old bachelors living in a pigsty. We had to laugh at the old bachelor part. We slowly started improving our lot. Actually, it was because Andy took everything she said seriously and made sure I followed her teaching.

  Mr. Thompson and Cletus came over to take a look at our animals and declared them all fit and in good shape. They prowled around up on the Blue farm and gave us some thoughts on how to make better use of it and where the fences needed work – that sort of thing.

  It was mid June, and in this part of the country it heats up real nicely about that time of year. When it gets to the point of being hot, sweaty, sticky, and clammy, then it heats up. If you’re out working and feel the need to sit down and rest for a minute you had better not sit on a rock because you’ll come off that rock right quick and bring some butt blisters with you. Cletus told me that he’d seen some of them rocks smoking from the heat, and he figured that hell wasn’t much more than ten or twelve feet down. I figured that Cletus had been with Mr. Thompson way too long.

  Our river wasn’t much of a river, but it was cool and clear. It was a great place to just jump into after a day in the sun. It was rock bottomed, so it always ran clear with no mud or silt. Most of the time it wasn’t more than thirty or forty feet wide, but after a sudden storm it could be a real ripper climbing up on the bank and yanking down a few trees. They hadn’t even given it a name folks just called it “the river”.

  There was a spring fed creek running through the Blue place, and it fed down to the river, which skirted the Moore place, so the cows and hogs had access to water. We had to figure a way to keep them from going up or down stream and off the farm. Uncle Joe had started that by dragging some of those deadfalls cross-stream to keep the critters from going left or right. Mr. Thompson told us how to put uprights along those deadfalls so that hogs couldn’t get under them. He sure was a smart old fella.

  We worked the summer fixing fences either with deadfalls or with split rails. We also did a good deal of weeding in the corn, which made us more determined to plant less of it in the spring. Mr. Thompson was right, this wasn’t crop country it was all grass, rock, and timber.

  In July, we made our first cattle drive to Joplin. It was only thirty miles, but it took us three days to get there. We pooled our few steers into Mr. Thompson’s bigger bunch and walked them the whole way. We put a bell on one old cow, and she took charge. The rest pretty much tagged along behind. Mr. Thompson drove a wagon, Cletus lead a horse in case there was a critter that wanted to take off, and me and Andy walked along with the cattle. I don’t think Cletus had to mount up once. Mr. Thompson said that this was the fourth trip for that old lead cow, and she didn’t seem to mind the return trip. This bunch was to feed the folks in Joplin, in the spring as soon as the calves were weaned, we should take some fresh milkin cows up for the folks in the wagon trains. I think he had it pretty well figured out.

  One day after splitting a bunch of rails and dragging them into place with the help of the mules, Andy and me got ourselves into the river and cooled off. That felt better than anything I could remember. We were lying there in the sun drying off with the bees buzzing around feeling pretty lazy. We had been talking about one thing and another, but mostly talking about horses and guns. I asked him about that shot he had made that day, when he plugged that outlaw. He had hit him in the right side of the chest about three inches from dead center. A half a foot to the left would have killed him outright.

  He said, “Ben, I didn’t even aim. I just looked at that man and pulled the trigger. I didn’t even know where the gun was pointing. It was lucky I didn’t shoot myself in the foot. The other shots I tried to aim and couldn’t hit nuthin. I been thinkin about that and tryin’ to figure it out.”

  I told him that no matter how it happened, it was sure a dandy shot.

  We hadn’t talked much about that day because neither one of us wanted to think about it much. Andy would be moody and quiet for a couple of days, and I hated to see him that way, so I just didn’t bring it up. This time it just slipped out. It all started with talk about the outlaw horses, which we just kept along with all their gear. No one came by to claim it so we kept it. Mr. Thompson had said, “That’s small payment for what you boys lost.” The sheriff came by and told us that there had been a hundred dollars reward on each of the outlaws that had died in the raid, and that we should be getting the money soon. I didn’t know for sure but I figured we needed it.

&nbs
p; When school started in the fall it took a little bit to get used to only going every other week, but we managed to get all of our work done and the schoolwork mostly done. We had to make a showing of it because we were sure that Miss Pritchett and Miss Elizabeth were watchin us just waitin for a slip up. We did our best not to.

  Things were funny at school. The farm kids, at least the boys, thought we were pretty special and almost made us into heroes. The town boys and all the girls were a bit standoffish. I didn’t understand this at first and asked Elizabeth about it. She said it was because we had been involved in something that most of them couldn’t even imagine. We had seen violent death in our family, and more importantly, we had killed men. Youngsters that age couldn’t even think about doing what we had done or how to live with it afterwards. I didn’t tell her, or anyone, but I still woke up at night thinking about being face to face with that man and him stuck on my fork. Or placing that pistol to the other man’s chest and pulling the trigger. I wanted to talk to Andy about it, but he would get so moody and angry that I didn’t say anything.

  We both took off a week of school in October and joined Mr. Thompson and Cletus on a hog drive to Joplin. Hogs don’t drive the way cattle do; you had to walk along with a stick to keep them in a bunch. You had to be quick with your stick because they had minds of their own. There were a few we had to hobble to keep them from running off, or we’d leash them to a fat sow, after the first ten or twelve miles they all gave up their foolishness.

  A few weeks later, we butchered one for our winter meat. I’d say we made a pretty poor showing of it. We had both been involved in butchering hogs for years, but we were just helping and not doing. Anyway, we got the meat hanging in the smoke house and hoped for the best.

  With winter coming on, we had to get our wood cut and split up for those long cold days and nights ahead. We spent a good deal of time with cross cut saw, axe, and a maul and wedges. Those were familiar tools, and we had been using them since we were big enough to lift them. There were plenty of deadfalls along the river and on the hillsides, so we didn’t have to do much green wood cutting. We would just hitch the mules to what we wanted and snake it up to or down to the cabin. It wasn’t long before we had a woodpile to be proud of.

  Every now and then I would do something that would just come like second nature, and I would stop and wonder how I knew to do it that way. It came to me that I had learned an awful lot from Uncle Joe without ever knowing that he was teaching me. How could that be, I wondered – I would have to think about that sometime.

  It never really got cold in the Ozarks, not for more than a few days at a time anyway. The temperature would stay in the twenties and thirties most of the time with an occasional drop near zero, but that wouldn’t last very long. Most of our work became chores and not enough of it to keep us busy all day, so during the winter we both went to school every day. There was plenty of forage for hogs and we hauled some hay for the cows on the Blue place. When it really got cold, we had to break the ice on the Blue pond because the creek would freeze solid, but the river never had more than a thin sheet of ice. We passed our first winter alone.

  When spring came, we took stock of how we had done and decided that we had managed pretty well. We figured out what we wanted to plant for crops, and we got the kitchen garden ready. We were still a little unsure of ourselves as to planting times, so we went over to talk to Mr. Thompson about it.

  We were sitting on his front porch talking about what we would need to plant and when and how much of it when Elizabeth came to the door. She was a little startled to see us there and said, “Papa, for Heaven’s sake, don’t sit out there in the chill, when there’s a nice big table and a pot of coffee inside. You just ask these nice gentlemen into the house to discuss your business.” We all kinda laughed at her statement, but we got up and trooped inside because we knew that was where the baking smell was coming from.

  As we came through the door and took off our hats she said, “Well, I declare, those aren’t strangers. Why, it’s Andy and Ben. You boys have grown so much over the winter I hardly recognized you.” I was just grinning like a fool and my ears were getting hot.

  “Come in here by the window and let me get a good look at you.” she said, and we both stood at attention in the light. “Hmm.” was the only sound she made as she walked around us tapping her finger to her tightly closed lips. She made several trips around us with a frown in her eyes and a little smile at the corners of her mouth. Finally she said, “You two have grown a bunch all right, but a sorrier looking pair I’ve seldom ever seen. Look at you Ben; you’re a scare crow… growin right out of your clothes.” Andy snickered.

  “And, you, raggedy Andrew, you’re a mess. Those overalls have more rips than there are patches in my sewing basket. Those sleeves are goin to creep up to your elbow pretty soon.” She stopped short and looked at his face from side to side. “And, you’re going to need a shave soon!” Andy was beaming.

  I noticed that when she looked at Andy’s face, she looked at him eye to eye without looking up or down. It also dawned on me that I no longer had to look up at either one of them, but I wasn’t going to mention that to Andy because he was the older one.

  Then she lowered the boom on us. With a little bit of devilish, twinkle in her eyes, she said, “Saturday morning right after chores, you boys be all washed up and ready to go to town. I’ll be over with the wagon and we’ll go shoppin for some new clothes.” We started to grumble, but she cut us off with, “I can’t have you two be coming to my wedding lookin like a pair of raw-hiders.” Our jaws dropped.

  “Tim Davies has been calling this past winter and has asked me to marry him. I told him I’d have to get your approval. But, it won’t matter if you approve or not. I’m gonna do it anyway. He’s a fine man, and he has a good farm. And I love and need him.”

  Andy was shaking her hand and all excited and saying how much he liked Mr. Davies, but I felt sick. When she looked at me she said, “What’s the matter, Ben. Don’t you want me to be married? Don’t you think I would be happy with Tim?”

  “Oh, sure.” I said, “Mr. Davies is a great guy, but I was kinda hopin you would wait for me to grow up.”

  Her eyes got all misty and she hugged the stuffins out of me. I could smell soap and fresh baking in her hair. She said, ”You are a true Irishman, just like your pa and my Charles. Just a sweet talker, all full of the Blarney.” I gave her my blessings – reluctantly. Then she brought out a basket full of muffins and some honey and all was forgiven.

  We were all washed up, brushed up, and ready Saturday morning when she pulled into the yard with the wagon. We even had the cabin all spruced up because she had promised to inspect it. She told us on the way into the village that she hadn’t inspected the cabin because she knew very well that we would have it perfect because we didn’t want to hear any thunder and lightning.

  At the general store, she told Mr. Clark what we needed and he chose the sizes with a trained eye. She had us get several pairs of everything, and we each got a new pair of boots. She told him that working men need men’s boots – not shoes. We were a pretty proud pair. She also told him to set up an account for us because we were a pair of well off old bachelors and were good for it. And if he had any problem with the bill to let her know and she would take it out of our hides. “Lord knows,” she said, “they haven’t been spending any money on haircuts.”

  After we loaded our new duds into the wagon, the ones we weren’t wearing, along with some coffee, flour, beans, and such she said, “Come along with me.” and she towed us down to the barbershop. Where she pushed me in and told the barber, “Get that red tangle cut down to where his hat will fit him.” Then she looked at Andy and said, “When you get to that curly black mop, let’s talk about it.” Andy looked nervous. I knew I was. We had never had store bought haircuts before.

  The whole time that barber was whackin at my hair I was just sittin there admiring my new boots. They were a size or two too big, but
Elizabeth said not to worry that I’d catch up to them before the next spring. I didn’t care if they were ten sizes too big; they sure looked handsome with those new pants stuffed in ‘em. When the barber started to sprinkle tonic water on my head and work it all around I was snapped out of my boot gazing. My first thought was to get away, but Elizabeth pinned me with a stare, so I let him finish. He held out a mirror for me to see myself, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. That hair was split right down the middle and slicked down real close, and my ears stuck out like… well I don’t know what they were like. I was something I’d never seen before.

  Andy was next, and he crawled into that chair like he was climbing the steps to a gallows. When he was all covered and ready to go Elizabeth told the barber to get it well off his collar and ears, but leave enough of those curls for the girls to admire. Andy turned as red as a tomato. I laughed, and then it was his turn to pin me with a stare. I didn’t care… it was funny.

  When the barber was putting the finishing touches on Andy’s head Elizabeth said, “Mr. Parker, I believe Mr. Moore here is in need of a shave. Do you think you could accommodate him and kind of give him a little bit of teaching about razors and how to take care of them. I don’t think his pa had a chance to.”

  “Be happy to Miz Conner,” he said,” and a young man’s first shave is on the house.”

  Andy walked out of there feeling about two feet taller than he really was.

  Chapter 5

  I don’t know how much that business about the girls admiring his curls really meant, but Andy was sure quick to get his hat off whenever there was one around. He even decided that we should go to church more often, which meant going at all because we hadn’t been in almost a year. They sure were pleased to see us, and Andy sure got that hat off quick. That was just something else I would have to give some thought to sometime. Life could sure be a puzzle.