I am a Texan, the Mexican said.
Well then, unless you have got a exemption from the army I’ll take you to Camp Verde and see if the major will sign you up, the Sesesh informed him.
I am a shoemaker and exempt, the Mexican said.
Shit you are. Let me see your papers then.
The Mexican went to his saddlebags. Whilst he was busy getting his papers, I got a look at the woman. She stood somewhat behind the Sesesh, who was Clarence Hanlin, as I would later learn his name to be. Something was not right with her. She had a aggravated posture, and she spat like a man. A rag was tied over her head.
Clarence Hanlin eyed our nanny goat like he might take her. Her bags was full and she was stomping her feet and agitated.
I signaled to Sam to give me the pistol. To her credit she did try to hand it over, but I could not of reached it without scrabbling, and such a commotion would of made us known. So we give up that effort and the pistol remained in her hands, which I would later come to wish was otherwise.
The Mexican’s pinto did not like the company. I believe he downright hated the camel. He laid his ears flat and bared his teeth but did not try to run off in spite of the reins was idle.
Clarence Hanlin looked at the papers the Mexican give him. I do not believe he could read them, as he took longer than it would take if you could actually read.
In the midst of this pause I seen what distress the camel was in. He had a good many wounds. It’s a odd way that camels will bend their knees, and this one was doing so in a way that I seen he was intending to lay down. One of his humps was bent over. He wore a moccasin on one foot. His hair was patchy, like it was shaved. I could smell him even from where I was. It was the closest I had ever been to a camel and I was surprised how he stank.
Clarence Hanlin give the papers back to the Mexican, cursed at him, which did not seem to bother the Mexican, and then told him to get going. The Mexican mounted his pinto and went on his way. He did not seem in a hurry. There was a cut-through in the brush heading down to the creek, and he took that and was out of our sight.
Clarence Hanlin then commenced to beat the camel in the attempt to make him go on. However, the camel had got it in his head that he had walked enough for one day, and by the look of him maybe for all time. He puffed his throat out, and spat slime at Hanlin, and bawled at him and made general noises of protest whilst the captive woman looked on. He did not go forward at all, even as Hanlin walloped him pretty good. His aggravation increased until he tossed his big head clear around and got hold of Hanlin’s arm in his mouth with such a fierce grip that he picked him up and tossed him. This made Hanlin even madder, as you might think it would. He shouted enough to scare away any creature within hearing of the commotion. He cursed and kicked the camel in the chest. The camel made burping and growling noises like a old man clearing out his throat. It was a real fight, but the camel did not seem to have the heart for it. He seemed pretty well done with just about everything including his own life. He did not look like he had any intention to win such a fearsome brawl, but rather like he was making a statement of his distress at the whole situation put to him, having come a long way, against his own will, in what must of been tight quarters on a boat, only to meet with such harsh treatment in a foreign land.
Sam is not a girl with a soft heart, but she has a aversion to meanness and she become agitated at beholding such cruel treatment that was going on. I feared she would give us away. I jammed my fist at my mouth to show her to keep a sock in it, but she would not look at me, as she was busy getting red in the face, or rather as much so as a half Negro can get.
After a severe bit of whacking and biting and kicking and a great deal of shouting and awful groaning, the camel folded his front knees and rocked hisself forward, and rocked back, and the hind legs buckled and he laid there, his legs folded under him and his head up, but barely. He looked like he wanted to roll on his side and be done with it all.
However, Clarence Hanlin seemed like he was just getting started. He was in a state of fury. I thought the captive woman might speak up, but what could she say. Her hands was tied. It also come to my attention about then that she was not actually a woman, but a man in a dress. However, I did not have time to reflect much about that, as things was happening too fast. Hanlin walked off a short ways and then turned and snuck up so not to get bit, and jabbed the camel a couple of times and stuck a big dirk knife in the hump that was not bent over. He stuck it so hard it stayed there. The camel let out a awful bawl. Hanlin could not get close enough to get his knife back without getting bit, so he tried to smack it out of the camel’s hump with a branch he got off the ground. He cussed the whole time.
It was about this time that Sam could not take any more of that sorry behavior and yelled, Stop that! I believe she intended to shout louder but must of thought better of that idea, as the noise that come out was puny.
Clarence Hanlin looked about him to see where the sound come from. His eyes lit on the nanny. I suppose he thought it was her that give the yelp. I guess what he thought next was that it was time for breakfast, for when he got his knife knocked out of the camel with a couple more swipes he approached the nanny with it.
Sam let out a whole hearted yell. Don’t you touch my goat or I’ll shoot you! she said.
He stopped when he heard that. Who goes there, said he.
Sam yelled, We seen what you done! You are a mean son of a bitch and if you touch my goat I’ll shoot you! I am heavily armed with a pistol!
He seen us then, and come on toward the nanny. His aim to take her was plain. I commenced to throw rocks at him from our buckets that was full of them. He stepped aside from the rocks and stuck his knife in his belt and pulled his pistol out and aimed at Sam and me, one then the other, back and forth. It was a perilous situation we was in. I thought I might jump out of the tree and take off, but it was a high limb I was on and I was pretty sure I would break a leg if I done so, and then where would that leave me. Down on the ground with a broke leg and the man’s pistol aimed at my head, that’s where. Also, I could not in good conscience leave Sam in a tree when she had only a pistol loaded with bat shat, though I did figure I had the right to leave her if I should decide to do so, as she was the cause of our troubles from start to finish. We would not of even been in the tree if not for her.
I will say this about Clarence Hanlin. He had some sense. I would of expected a blind charge but he took some caution and come on fairly slow, because what kind of kids have got nerve like that to take on a grown man. Also he had to duck the rocks I was pitching as fast as I could. However, I did not have a clean shot on account of so many branches being in my way.
I believe I knew Sam would pull the trigger even before she done so, as it was her nature to do it. However, I did not know she would do it as fast as she done it. Me and Clarence Hanlin both was taken by surprise when the pistol went off. One minute I was pitching rocks and the next I had my mouth hanging open in wonderment as Clarence Hanlin yelled fiercely. His pistol flew out of his hand. His hand went up in the air and his finger flew off in another direction from the pistol. Where before there was one hand aiming the pistol, now there was three different things—the hand, the pistol, and the finger, all going their own way.
You shot me, you bitch, you shot me! he shouted.
As if that might of escaped her notice.
Sam hollered at me, I could of killed him! I could of shot him in the face!
I figured she meant Clarence Hanlin but then it come to me she was back on the panther and meant she could of killed the panther the night before, had I not doubted the powder and made her hold off.
I thought, We are done for now. We are dead ducks now. We are stuck in this tree and that man is about to shoot us out of it as soon as he gets hold of his gun, no question about that. So right away I took action. I seen where the pistol belonging to Clarence Hanlin had landed when it flew. I seen he was not in search of it as yet. I got hold of a knife and climbed down as fast as I could and
grabbed up Hanlin’s pistol off the ground.
Hanlin did not take much notice of me at first, as he was bent on figuring out what happened to his finger. It lay in the dirt. He seemed not to know if he should pick it up or just holler at Sam about it. Blood was gushing out everywhere. It got all over him. He kept shouting, You bitch. He stood over his finger and yelled, You shot off my finger!
Sam yelled, I’ll shoot you again if you come closer!
He did not know she had spent all the powder and ball she had, so he give some credence to that idle threat.
And then here come the man in the dress, rushing at me. He said, Cut my hands loose. He turned his back so I could do so. I figured he was on our side of the situation, so I done as he said. No sooner had I done it than he snatched the knife out of my hands and tussled with me for the pistol. It come to me he thought he might use it to make his escape alone.
And then here comes Clarence Hanlin too, all bloody, throwing hisself on the both of us and knocking us on the ground. He hit me hard in the head. I don’t know what he done to the man in the dress, but he got the pistol back even in spite of the fact he had use of only one hand, on account of the other was missing a finger. He got blood all over me and the man in the dress. Who would of thought a hand would squirt so much blood. Not me. What I know is that Hanlin got his pistol. He did not seem to know which hand he aught to hold it in, as the right one did not have the usual fingers. He kept passing the pistol from one hand to the other. He did not appear to be in his right mind. He backed up and aimed at me and the man in the dress and told us to get up off the ground and put our hands in the air. We done so.
Sam commenced to scramble about in the tree to get higher up, and whilst doing so knocked our bucket of rocks out of the branches. The nanny got all worked up about the rocks tumbling down on her. She bleated like crazy and just about broke her neck yanking against the tether after having nearly nothing to say all night when we needed her to. If she would of seen fit to bleat like that in the night I might of been lucky enough to fight with a panther instead of Clarence Hanlin.
Sam yelled, I’ll shoot you if you shoot my brother!
This sounded like a actual threat, as how could he know she had spent her one ball. However, he was not in a mood to care about threats. He was trying to keep a good grip on the pistol. I supposed he would shoot me in the head. I did not care a lot about what he might do to the man in the dress. You asked me to be frank. If not for the man in the dress I would of had the pistol myself and the tables would of been turned the other way around.
The man in the dress and me stood with our hands in the air like criminals. The camel was making a bunch of dreadful groaning noises and had not got up from where he laid. The nanny was tangled in her tether and went on bleating. Sam was out of sight way up in the branches and giving off the mistaken impression her pistol was a six shooter and fully loaded with plenty to spare.
Hanlin was scared, I think. He was the only one of us with any say-so under the circumstances, but he was weak and wobbly. The blood was still pouring out. He did not seem to know how to behave with only nine fingers and kept on hollering about the one that was laying on the ground.
Sam hollered at him, Pick it up if you miss it so much!
He hollered, You goddamn bitch, I’m going to kill you!
She said, You can’t see me but I have a clean shot at you. Move a inch and you’re done for! You seen what I done to your finger.
Hanlin yelled at her, You are aiding and abetting a escaped Yankee! You think it’s a woman in that dress, but it’s a Yankee out of the canyon!
I already seen that’s no woman, said she.
There was three of them got out in dresses from the cooks! he said. We ain’t caught the others. I have got to bring this one in. You are aiding the wrong side!
Sam was not taken in. I might aught to give you a little pill out of this pistol! she said.
It was a stand off, and would of remained so if the branch Sam was on had not cracked and dropped her down to the one below it. She caught herself on that one but let go of my pistol when she done so. Down it went and landed under the tree. I can tell you my heart sank. I thought, It’s over now. We are three goners.
Clarence Hanlin must of come to the same conclusion about us. He got a smile on his face despite the fact he was looking woozy. He said, Well, well. I shall not forget how he said it with a distasteful satisfaction. He walked over and picked up the pistol and looked it over and said, You was trying to bluff me.
Sam did not answer that.
I thought I might make a dash at Hanlin. The Yankee in the dress had the same idea, I believe, as he give me a look. However, it was not a workable notion. Hanlin would shoot us before we even got near him. There was nothing to do but see what he done. He appeared to consider the choices. It was a terrible moment we spent waiting for him to decide if he was going to shoot us, and which one he might shoot first. I am nearly getting the shakes just thinking about that moment. I could already see Sam shot and tumbling out of that tree like a varmint.
I said, We got off to a bad start but I can explain.
He said, The girl shot my goddamn finger off.
I said, I am sorry she done that, she has a bad temper.
He commenced to spit on the ground.
We could not see Sam in the tree too well but we heard her. She said, I am sorry.
Come down or I’ll shoot you down, Hanlin yelled, and quick as lightning he fired a shot at the branches.
I can’t say if he meant to hit her or not, or what would of happened. It is beside the point on account of a unexpected event, which was the return of the Mexican. He come from behind the mesquite motte with his pistol at the ready. I seen him, and I seen the Yankee in the dress seen him too, although neither of us let on.
The Mexican moved fast. He did not have his pinto with him but was afoot. He run and snuck up on Clarence Hanlin and said, Toss your gun, gringo, and get your hands in the air. If you turn around you will die at once.
Clarence Hanlin got quite still. After reflection, he tossed his pistol, and mine alongside it, and raised his hands in the air. The one that was short of a finger was a awful sight and weird looking too. The Mexican walked over and got the pistols off the ground. I can’t tell you word for word what he said, on account of his English was perfect and mine is not. He asked the Yankee where he hoped to be heading.
The Yankee said he was hoping to get to Mexico.
You won’t get there wearing a dress, the Mexican said.
He said to Sam, Ameega in the tree, close your eyes.
She said, Why am I to do that.
He said, Two men are about to undress.
She said, All right then I will.
The Mexican told Clarence Hanlin to toss his knife and to take his boots and his trousers and his jacket off.
Hanlin shouted, I ain’t giving my clothes to a Yankee, if that’s what you think!
But he has only a dress to wear, the Mexican said. He will never reach Mexico wearing a dress. He’ll be better off wearing your clothes.
I can’t tell you the rest of all that was said, as I was unsettled and could not give it my full attention. What I remember is that the Mexican was polite. Clarence Hanlin to the contrary was worked up and angry. However, the Mexican had all the pistols, so Hanlin done what he said. He took his boots off. They was jack boots. He took his clothes off. It was none of it easy for him to do, on account of the trouble with his finger, or I should say lack of the finger. He cussed a good deal about the pain. Exchanges was made. Hanlin put on the dress. He tied his hand up with the rag the Yankee had wore on his head. He looked like he was about to pass out. His teeth was clanking together and he sweated a good deal. All he had left of his belongings was a plug of tobacco he hung on to out of his jacket. It was soggy with blood, and I felt sick to my stomach just knowing he had it.
The Yankee did not seem grateful to be getting a Sesesh uniform that was a tight fit and bloody.
However, beggars can’t be choosers. When he had the uniform on, the Mexican told him to take Hanlin’s knife and get going. That was one thing the Yankee done without any complaining. He headed off to the cut-through down to the creek.
The Mexican told him, Not so fast, ombray. My horse is there.
The Yankee replied he would not steal a horse that belonged to a man who had saved his life.
None of us thought that was true. The Mexican made him start off in another direction. It is only a small detour on your way to Mexico, he said. A mere stitch in the seam.
So the man headed off. He went quite fast.
The Mexican told Sam she could open her eyes. He told Clarence Hanlin he could not set him free, as it was too likely he would come back to take revenge on los neenyos—by which he meant Sam and me.
Clarence Hanlin said, You goddamn Mexican.
The Mexican shook his head. He lifted his hat and brushed it off. He said it was hard to be scared of a man whose finger lay in the dirt before him. We will have to keep you with us, he said. Because what are we to do. If we let you go, you will come back.
Hanlin said, I got to tend to this wound. You can’t keep me here. I’m a soldier. They’ll think I deserted. I can’t just be gone a long time.
The Mexican said, If I shoot you, you will be gone even longer.
Sam remained in the tree. I don’t want him around, she said. Send him off from here.
I said, He’ll come back as sure as the panther.
Hanlin said, I ain’t going nowhere in a dress.
The Mexican said he did not see a way for a man to wear nothing. He went to look at the camel. It was a pitiful creature, laying on its side with flies at its wounds. It slobbered and made noises, though they was not so loud as before. I wondered if it would live, but it was a moot question, as the Mexican shot it.
Chapter 7
Dear Judge,
I hope my last report reached you. I had a good time in Comfort the day I went to post it. Mr Hildebrand was not in his office nor anywhere in the store when I got there, so I waited around town and seen a few folks. I don’t know if you know Mrs Ottenhoff but I run into her on the street and she asked me to make her a nice chair. She is getting old and it is about time for her to get off her feet. She is German and does not speak a lot of English but we was able to get our ideas across. I told her I could not make cushions but I am a good carpenter. She asked what Samantha does with her time and why she don’t make cushions, as it would bring in some money to live on. I told her I would venture to pass that idea on to Samantha. However, I will tell you in private it will not take. Sam will not sew nor do a thing more than what she has to. She is not useful. She aims to get grown enough and take off for somewhere else, and go where she pleases, on account of nobody can mistaken her for a slave now, on account of there is no such thing anymore. I can’t think how she might make a living of any sort, as she is not a hard worker. Also I can’t think a person would choose to take her in. She is not a joy to look at nor be with. She wears nothing except my outgrown attire and a rope for a belt and will not put on a bonnet nor hat, and prefers to go barefoot. If it’s cold she’ll wear my old boots or get hold of my current ones if I am not watching out. I am used to her but she does daily irritate me in one way or another.
The Which Way Tree Page 7