Slow John

by Petit, C. J.

  “You didn’t have to tell me, Kate. I already had figured it out. I’ll deal with that when it comes. But for now, Kate, please trust me that I’ll keep you safe.”

  She raised her eyes back to John, smiled and said, “I will.”

  John blew out a deep breath and said, “Now. Can we get past all of the bad things for a while and just carry on like two normal people?”

  Kate nodded and replied, “As normal as the two of us can be, John.”

  John smiled at Kate and stood, then surprised her when he leaned forward and offered her his hand to help her stand. She took his hand, and felt a tingling in her fingers as she got to her feet. In a day of violent changes in her mind and mood, Kate felt that she had finally gotten past all her demons, at least until they found the families.

  John released her hand and they both walked to what now amounted to a small herd.

  “Now that we have more mules, we can distribute the weight among the four. We only have one pack saddle, so I’ll put it on a different mule each day. Did you want to name them? The only animal with a name is my horse, Arrow. You can pick a name for your horse and we’ll come up with names for the mules after.”

  “Why is your horse called Arrow? Is he fast?”

  “He’s okay with speed, but he’s really got great endurance. I called him Arrow because he once was hit by a Lakota arrow that bounced off his bridle. The odds of that happening must be astounding. It had to be a glancing blow, and hit just right or he wouldn’t be here today.”

  “Did you shoot the Indian?”

  “I did. So, what do you want to name your horse?”

  “How about Bow?”

  John smiled at Kate and asked, “As in Bow and Arrow, or Beau as in betrothed? I’d hate to think you had a romantic interest in the horse.”

  Kate laughed and replied, “I think as in Bow and Arrow. He isn’t bad looking, though.”

  “Just to remind you, Ma’am, he is a gelding.”

  Kate laughed again and was suddenly relieved of what had felt like a mountain of worries and concerns just a few minutes earlier. She was moving back into the normal world.

  John dug a fire pit and had to roam for almost an hour collecting enough buffalo chips for a fire. Because they burned so quickly, he’d hold off making the fire until it was time to cook.

  Kate helped to set things up this time, wanting to be useful, wanting to be just a woman and not a victim.

  After everything was ready, they were seated with their backs on their saddles.

  “Kate, I never did tell you that I picked up a present for you in Plum Creek.”

  “You bought me a lot of presents, John.” Kate replied with a smile.

  “Just a minute.” he said as he rocked forward, leaned over to the nearest pannier and pulled out two boxes.

  He opened the first and pulled out the Cooper Pocket pistol.

  “It looks like yours only smaller.” she said.

  “It’s called the Cooper Pocket and it’s built like the bigger pistols, but it only has five rounds and they’re ball and powder, so I’ll load it and then give it to you. It’s a double-action revolver, so you just point it and pull the trigger, like my Remingtons. It shoots a smaller bullet, so there’s less of a kick. There’s a holster in there somewhere, too, so once it’s all set up, I want you to keep it with you all the time.”

  For some reason, Kate felt she was on dangerous ground talking about pistols, so she just replied with a quick, “Okay.”

  “On a less dangerous front, I found some things that I’m not sure you’d like or not. I was going from past experience.”

  “Such as?” she asked with raised eyebrows.

  “I picked up some tea and a tea strainer.”

  “You bought some tea? I haven’t had any tea in years! Don’t tell me you bought some sugar. That would be asking too much.”

  “I bought a large bag of sugar and couple of cans of condensed milk, too, in case you used milk in your tea.”

  “John, you have no idea what that means to me. Do you think I can have some now?”

  “I’ll tell you what we’ll do. I’ll get the fire going for dinner and boil some water. I bought a teapot, too, so I’ll make some tea for you. How’s that?”

  Kate was ecstatic. She hadn’t exaggerated when she told John how much the tea meant to her. She and her sisters used to have afternoon teas just to be sisters and talk about the things that sisters talked about. The tea had been a luxury that they didn’t take with them when they left, so it had been more than two years since her last cup of tea. But it was the connection to Maggie and Eliza that really made it special.

  “Thank you, John.” She said with as much true feeling as she could.

  As long as Kate was in a good mood, after starting the fire, John took out one of the cans of chicken, a can of potatoes, onions and poured them into a pot. He added some water from his canteen, some salt and pepper and let it heat while he filled the coffee pot, the teapot and put them on the grate as well. He found the box of tea leaves and poured some into the tea strainer. While the water was heating, he pulled out the sack of sugar and a can of condensed milk.

  “Have you used condensed milk before, Kate?” he asked.

  “We had some on the wagon, but I never used it in tea before. I’ll try it first and see how much it sweetens the tea and add more sugar if it needs it.”

  “Okay. It’ll be ready in just a minute.”

  Five minutes later, Kate was handed her first cup of tea and added some condensed milk, tasted it and added some sugar. Then she leaned back and let the tea bring her back to those happier days with her sisters.

  John watched Kate as she closed her eyes, wishing that things as simple as the tea could solve all her problems. He had already shoved the day’s shootings into a dark closet in his mind, along with the upcoming dread of having to deal with Jack. But seeing Kate with her tea helped him to do it.

  When she opened her eyes, and saw John watching her, she smiled. He wasn’t like those others, when they watched her she knew what was on their minds, but with John, he could see the concern in his eyes, and didn’t mind him looking at her at all.

  “This is wonderful, John.”

  “I’m glad I picked it up, then.”

  “John, your family always called you Slow John, but I never heard an explanation. It didn’t seem to be anything malicious, like you were slow of mind or anything. So, why did they call you that?”

  “Actually, the whole community called me that. Most had no idea where it came from either, but the family did, of course. I still recall incident that created it. I was five and my father had asked me to come along to town when he had to pick up supplies. We went into the store and Mr. Johnson gave me a few pieces of penny candy while I waited, so, I went outside and after putting a piece of licorice in my mouth, these two eight-year-olds I didn’t know at the time approached me and demanded a piece of candy. One of them, a boy named Billy Bannister, I got to know very well. Remind me to tell you the about the last time I saw him.”

  Kate nodded and smiled as John continued the story.

  “After they demanded the candy, I gave them each one just because I had four and they didn’t have any. I guess they thought my generosity meant I was fair game, so they began calling me names. I didn’t do anything because there wasn’t any point, and it made them mad, so they began to push me back and forth. My father told me later that he had been watching the whole thing since it began and was waiting for me to fight back. I didn’t fight back, and when they began punching me, I just covered up and took their punches. My father told me that he was so ashamed that his first son was a coward, that he was ready to come out of the store and save me. He didn’t understand that what they were doing wasn’t hurting me that much, and it just didn’t matter to me. But, then one of them called my mother a disgusting name that I still would never use, and I just exploded. The next thing I knew they were both running away with bloody noses, crying. I just
sat down on the steps and sucked on my licorice like nothing happened. My father came out of the store, looked at me with more pride than I had ever seen before, and said, “You may be slow to anger, my boy, but when you do, woe betide the man who does it.” When we went home, he told my mother and that was how I became Slow John. When they use the name, it sounds like one word, though.”

  “So, have you ever been that angry again?”

  “No.”

  “Not even in the war?”

  John stirred the pot, tasted the chicken stew and added some more salt and pepper.

  “No. If you get angry, in a fight, you do stupid things that could get you killed. Any emotion when you’re in a fight of any kind, will cause a problem. Look at those three today. They were driven by their lust and greed, and didn’t even wonder why I was standing there. They must have seen me put down the rifle, but they just wanted you and probably our supplies so badly, they didn’t even think.”

  Kate refreshed her tea and said, “I’m glad you’re not that way, John.”

  “Which way?”

  “You know, the lust part. I feel safer around you because you don’t have those kinds of thoughts. You’re not that kind of man.”

  John poured himself some more coffee and leaned back against the saddle.

  “You’re wrong, Kate. Every man is that kind of man when it comes to women.”

  Kate was surprised by his answer and it showed.

  “No, you’re not, John. You’re not even close.”

  “Kate, I know you were married, but how much do you really understand about men?”

  “I think I understand the difference between men like you and the Murphys.”

  “Do you know what the difference really is, Kate? It’s nothing more than self-control. Men are obsessed with women. It almost never stops, not even when we’re asleep. But men like the Murphys, and obviously my brother Jack, let their animal instincts overpower their rational minds. Most men don’t let that happen.”

  “Do you mean that you really look at me that way?” she asked almost in shock.

  “Of course, I think of you that way. You’re a pretty and well-formed young woman. But, at the same time, I know with absolute certainty that I will never act on those urges. You need protection, Kate. That’s my job.”

  He paused to let the whole subject drop.

  “Anyway, those are my deep thoughts about men and women. I think the stew’s ready.”

  John scooped out the chicken stew into the bowls and handed one to Kate. He filled the second and they settled in to dinner.

  “John,” Kate asked as she filled her spoon, “where do you think our families are?”

  “That’s a good question. I was told that my family was west of Fort Kearny, but that could be anywhere out to Oregon or California. Do you know where your family was headed?”

  “I know a lot more than that. Our family and yours was planning on joining some others and set up their own community in western Nebraska. They said that it was on the Pony Express route. Does that help?”

  “It helps some. We’re sitting on the old Pony Express route right now. If we follow the trail, we should find them within a few days, no more than a week if they stayed in Nebraska. Some of those station buildings still exist, too, but most have been taken apart for the wood. If they stayed in Nebraska, then we’ll find them, Kate.”

  Kate leaned back, smiled, and said, “You know what a shock that will cause, don’t you? They all think we’re both dead.”

  “I know. And then there’s the railroad, Kate. You’re probably not familiar with the railroad since you were assaulted, but the Union Pacific is already almost out of Nebraska now. You’ve probably seen the trains going by on the other side of the Platte.”

  “I could see the smoke and hear their whistles, but I couldn’t see the trains.”

  “Well, one of the bad developments is that starting in North Platte, some men back east figured that those lonely railroad workers needed someplace to spend their money and sent out trains to build saloons and gambling houses, along with all the liquor and women to keep them entertained. It’s so bad, they’re calling it ‘Hell on Wheels’. I can see problems along the way with more lawlessness. So, we’ll have to be vigilant.

  Kate looked off to the west and said, “I wonder if that’s affecting our families.”

  _____

  Jack sat at the table, poking at his food.

  “What’s the matter, Jack? I thought you liked my pot roast.”

  “It’s fine, Eliza. I was just thinking about things.”

  “Like what we’re going to name our baby?” she asked with a smile, her hand resting on her swollen belly.

  “Yeah. That’s all. Just wondering about our baby.” he replied unconvincingly.

  “Good. I’ve already come up with some choices. Did you want to hear them?”

  “Not now. I’ve got to go and meet with Dennis and Patrick. We’re going to have to change the irrigation plan again.”

  “Okay. You finish your food first.” she said as she patted him on his shoulder as she walked past.

  Jack watched her and cringed inside. She was so fat! He couldn’t stand to have her in the same bed with him anymore. And those moods! One minute she’s all lovey-dovey, and the next she’s throwing something at him. The only good thing about her getting pregnant was her breasts getting larger, but that soon became secondary when she started ballooning out like she had. And she seemed to be happy about it!

  Jack closed his eyes and remembered the thrill he had taking Kate two years ago and the second time with Ida Mitchell two months later, just before they reached North Platte. That one had been close. After he had taken her, she began to scream so he had to shut her up fast and used a heavy rock rather than his knife. Then he had to carry her over to a deep gully and make sure her bloomers were in place before he dumped her over the edge. When they found her the next day, they thought she had fallen into the ravine. But it had been close. Her husband, James Mitchell, had been trying to convince everyone that she had been assaulted and murdered, but there just wasn’t any evidence. James had his young son to care for now, had stayed in North Platte and was homesteading just a mile west of the Flynn farm. He had remarried to a homely woman that Jack didn’t care for a bit.

  But Jack had discovered that the danger, the thrill of almost being caught, made it even more satisfying. When he had taken Kate Walsh, it was a spur of the moment thing, when he had seen her sitting far away from the fire, almost in the dark. He thought she’d just submit when he made her walk almost a mile away. But when she had fought him, it gave him much more pleasure than he could have imagined. He felt the power and had lived in that fantasy until he took Ida Mitchell and again found the excitement of the rape and the added thrill of the danger. He would try to expand on it next time.

  And the next time must be soon, as he was feeling the need again, but knew he’d have to plan this one better. When he had knocked Kate Walsh out with his knife and tossed her into the Platte, he thought she’d drown and her body would turn up, but she had simply disappeared. That had caused a search and Jack had been worried that she might turn up alive somehow and tell everyone what had happened. But when she couldn’t be found, the wagon train moved on and his secret was safe.

  Now, he needed to be more careful in his timing and the disposal of the body. He already knew who he wanted, too. He wanted Maggie, and it didn’t matter that she was married to Patrick, either. She was so much more woman than Eliza, and almost as voluptuous as Kate. Whenever he thought of Kate, he felt a good chill run down his neck, and knew it would be even better with Maggie because he had discovered that the sex was only secondary to the power and control. He would make Maggie suffer much more than he did with Kate or Ida.

  But first he had to come up with a way to get her outside the settlement. The whole settlement had been on edge since the railroad had arrived in December and stayed the winter in North Platte. Then that damned trainl
oad of hucksters and pimps had arrived and turned the town into a giant casino and whorehouse.

  Jack had tried a couple of the women, but it wasn’t the same when they acted like they wanted it. It was boring, really. But having that much violence nearby had caused the Flynns and Peter Walsh to walk around with shotguns, and that would be a problem.

  _____

  John and Kate had cleaned up after dinner and were already in their bedrolls for the warmth. The bedrolls were only four feet apart now, so they could talk more easily. The decision to move them closer together had been Kate’s.

  The stars were out in force, and weren’t diminished by the moon which hadn’t risen yet.

  “John,” Kate asked wistfully, “do you believe we’re guided by the stars?”

  “At the risk of being a stick in the mud, I don’t believe anything guides our future at all, not even God. We’re here and given a free hand to make our own future. Some like to believe that the stars or God is out there manipulating events to either try our patience or reward us for good behavior, but I don’t see it that way. Sometimes it’s just chance, but most of the time, our future is what we do to make it happen.”

  “You don’t think God sent you to rescue me?”

  “No, it was just my desire to find my family and take that path that brought me to the cabin. Now, I’ll grant you that the fact that you knew my family may stretch the limits of coincidence, but I still think it was chance.”

  “Be honest, John, it was more than chance. Most of the town knew I was being held out at the cabin and they did nothing because they were afraid of the Murphys. And if you hadn’t arrived armed as you were, and with the ability to detect Thomas Murphy’s intentions, you would have died. I had already given up, you know. I knew that the chances of my ever leaving that place alive were almost none. But when you showed up, it was a miracle. I think you were sent by God.”

  “I don’t think so, Kate. If we believe God dabbles in our lives, it gives us excuses for mistakes, or someone else to blame when things go bad. I believe that God put us here with our free wills and lets us go. But, regardless of the why, I’m glad I found you, Kate.”