I nodded. “Well, now we’re gonna see what kinda doctor or tailor ye’d make. Ye’re a-gonna hafta sew up this here cut fer me. I ain’t got no depth perception with just one eye, or I’d do it myself. I know ye ain’t never done nothing like this, but I’ll shore as hell make a mess of things if ye don’t sew it up for me. This time, when ye sew, just make one loop at a time and tie it off, and then do another. I figure seven or eight stitches ought to do it. A couple more swallows of this here firewater, an’ I’ll be ready. Grab that little three-legged stool in there by the fire and sit beside me so ye’re comfortable while ye work.”
He reached in his mouth and pulled out the sinews he’d been softening. “This here is yore thread. When I’m healed up, you’ll be able to cut the stitches off my face easy. They’s some little sewing scissors in that there sewing kit. Ye’ll need ’em to cut the sinew after ye make a loop and tie it off. I ain’t gonna feel much, so don’t worry about hurtin’ me. Now git to it.”
I was scared and a little shaky at first, but I knew I had to do it for my friend. I threaded up the needle with a long piece of sinew. I stared at the cut for a while and kind of eyeballed about where I thought the stitches should go while Rufus swilled down some more of his whiskey.
It was easier sewing than I imagined. I pulled the two sides of the cut together with my thumb and forefinger with my left hand. I didn’t have to push hard with my right hand to make that sharp needle pass right through the skin on both sides of the cut. I tied the first stitch in the middle of the cut. Then put three on either side of the first one, halving the distance each time. Rufus didn’t show the first sign of pain. When I was finished I poured a little whiskey over the cut like Rufus told me, and it made him groan and grind his teeth.
I handed the piece of mirror to Rufus so he could see what kind of job I’d done. He looked at each stitch carefully and said, “Damn, Henry. You’d make a right, fine doctor. That there is a first-class sewing job.” I reveled in the glow of his praise.
Rufus said, “Now go get you something to eat. I ain’t hungry. I’m just gonna sit out here and watch the sun go down while I finish the rest of this here bottle.” I got a plate, sat out on the porch step with him, and ate my supper while he got drunk.
CHAPTER 31
YELLOW BOY’S VISION
For the next four or five days, we went about our business like nothing had happened. I ran twice every day and carried rocks while Rufus started stacking some of them to make the new house over by the barn. I could tell Rufus’s face hurt, though, and that he was giving something a lot of thought. When Saturday morning came, he saddled up Sally as he always did, to ride into town for supplies and visit Albert Ellis’s barbershop. Just before he left he said, “Now don’t git in no more trouble. Stay hid if anybody else comes. I’ll be back ’fore sundown.” I nodded slowly. He grinned and winked as he rode off.
The sun was beginning to send streaks of gold and purple across the sky when Sally topped the trail into the yard. I ran outside and found Rufus had new glasses. They had silver wire frames and were a little smaller in diameter than his broken pair. He had also bought an old 1873 Winchester. It lay across the saddle alongside a burlap bag of groceries and a few other supplies. As he handed me the rifle and climbed down from Sally, I said, “How were things in town? Do you like your new glasses? Where’d you get this rifle? What’s—”
He laughed and said, “Slow down there, Henry. Jest one question at a time, if ye please. I got my glasses at Lohman’s. He’d just got in a shipment from back east. I had to get two pair, one pair fer reading and one fer long distance. Reckin my old lamps are a-goin’ out. Ain’t they fine ones, though? I saw a feller selling this here rifle to Lohman fer some groceries. I knew how much old Lohman paid him fer it, so I offered Lohman a dollar more, and he sold it to me. So now we got us some long-range artillery as well as that damned old pistol of my mine.
“Ever’body wanted to know how I got beat up so bad. Told ’em Sally run me into a post when I warn’t lookin’. They all just laughed ’cause the talk was that several other people over on this side of the Organs had run into posts this week, too. They’s all speculatin’ about who took a shot at Stone. Ellis said he thought there might be several to shoot at him now. Stone and Bentene are supposed to be up in the Sacramentos lookin’ over abandoned homesteads to get some more land and water to support their herds. Soon as Yellow Boy comes in from Mexico, we’re gonna go get Little David back, and I’m a-gonna settle me some business with Mr. Bentene. Now let’s eat. Ye go set out the meal, and I’ll feed and water Sally.”
It was monsoon season, raining three or four times a week. Rufus and I loved to sit on his porch watching the lightning shows start far down south or to the west, then roll east toward Las Cruces and El Paso. That night, the sky lighted up with streaks of lightning for hours. We could feel the cool breeze and smell the rain as the columns of water rushing out of the heavy, black clouds marched toward us on giant, stubby legs with thunder beating their march. Those storms are fearful to watch from a house down in the valley. From where we saw them, halfway up the Organs, they were flashing wars, clouds striking each other with fiery, crooked strokes that hung in my eyes long after the dark returned. Up where Rufus had his shack, those storms could turn heathens into God-fearers. I knew we’d probably get enough water to fill to overflowing all the natural and other water tanks we’d been working on. No doubt, this rain would fill the trail to the shack with washouts.
The big, blue bruise on his face was starting to heal and turn yellow. The swelling had gone down enough that he could see out of his left eye. In another week, I knew he’d want the stitches cut off of what was going to be an ugly scar.
I said, “Rufus what’re we gonna do?”
Rufus spat and said, “You mean about those bastards that stole Lil’ David?”
“Yes, sir.” I felt tears of frustration rising to my eyes, ready to embarrass me in front of my mentor. “They’re getting away with anything they want. It’s not just or fair. I can’t stop them, and it’s my fault we lost any chance of surprise. Now we both know it’s only gonna be a little while before Stone figures out who I am, and then he’ll be back to finish his business. I’m the one who got you into all this trouble. Maybe I ought to leave. Just go back to Mama and hope for the best. At least then maybe they’d leave you alone.”
Rufus chewed and stared at me for a moment, then snorted and shook his head. “Whatever give ye the idee that life’s fair? Let me tell ye, it ain’t. Men make their lives just by puttin’ honor ahead of ever’thang, even their own lives. That’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna git us some justice, even if it means our lives.
“As fer ye leavin’ to take the heat off me, well, it just don’t make no never mind, Henry. They’d know ye had been stayin’ here with me and it was likely ye’d told me what ye knew about ’em. That means they’s a-gonna have to wipe me out, too, when they come after ye. So don’t go down yonder to yore mama and put her in danger fer me ’cause they’s gonna come after me anyway. Ye didn’t get me into this mess, ’ceptin’ I wanted to be there with ye. It was gonna happen sooner or later. It’s just happened sooner is all.”
Thunder rumbled across the valley again, and I asked, “So what are we going to do?”
Rufus smiled and said, “The ace we got in this here game is Yellow Boy. They don’t know about Yellow Boy. They don’t know he’s vowed revenge for ye. And, let me tell ye, I nearly laughed out loud when Stone said ye was too little to put that hole in his hat and then outfox Catron to get back here. But, ye did it, didn’t ye? Ye was able to do that ’cause Yellow Boy taught ye how to think, and we helped ye get strong in yore body and yore mind.”
He shifted his wad to the other jaw and turned his head to spit at his creosote bush. As he turned back to look at me, his jaw dropped, his eyes got wide, and he said, “Well, I’ll be damned. Speak of the devil. Buenos noches, Señor Yellow Boy. We been hopin’ ye’d show up.”
I shouted, “Yellow Boy!” In three steps, I was standing beside him. Up close, he looked tired and worn out. I hadn’t a clue when he had joined us on the porch.
He held up a hand to greet us and said, “Hola, Rufus. Hola, Hombrecito. I ride hard por tres soles y tres noches. I didn’t eat, only rested horse. Is there meat in your pot, Rufus? Is there water inside, Hombrecito?”
Rufus smiled, and his eyes sparkled with new fire. “Three days and three nights? Damn, Yellow Boy. They shore as hell is some grub in the pot, hombre. Be right back with a plateful,” he said, as he pushed the door open and stepped inside. I ran inside, too, and grabbed the water bucket and dipper. I handed Yellow Boy a dipperful that was gone in three long swallows. He sipped the next dipperful.
I studied his face as he drank. He looked weary beyond anything I had ever seen. Even I could tell he hadn’t slept in days. He was covered with dust, and the sweat falling out of his hatband made rivulets in the dust down the sides of his cheeks. Normally, he stayed very clean, but this night he had the sharp, pungent smell of old sweat, his and his horse’s, and miles of desert dust. I didn’t care. I was so relieved to see him I felt as if I’d just been saved from drowning. I thought, Maybe our trouble with Stone is going to be set right after all.
“Where’s your pony, Yellow Boy? I’ll feed and water him.”
“This I’ve done, Hombrecito. He eats and drinks with Sally.”
I looked around the side of the shack. Sure enough, there was the paint pony next to Sally, with their rumps pointed out of the shed, its covered sides shielding them from the wind and the coming storm.
Rufus came out of the shack with a tin plate running over with what we’d had left in the cooking pot. Yellow Boy took it and ate like a starving man. He filled both cheeks as he chewed while the gravy ran down his chin. He wiped it off with his free hand and licked it, not wasting a drop. Rufus, his smile made crooked by his swollen face, leaned against a porch post and watched him eat.
Yellow Boy wiped the plate clean with the last tortilla, emptied another dipper of water, belched loudly, sighed with relief, and leaned back against his post, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he looked at me, then Rufus, and nodded. “You safe, mi compañeros. Bueno. We must leave! Rapidamente.”
Rufus and I looked at each other with frowns of surprise. We had a lot to tell him.
Yellow Boy’s voice was earnest as he said, “Sally run you into tree, Rufus? Why are your glasses new? Que es Shoots Today Kills Tomorrow?” Then, sighing, he said, “I dream. I come quick. Prisa. Vamonos.” (Hurry. We go.)
Rufus’s jaw dropped, and his brow shot up. “We have to go now? Why?”
“I dream in sweat lodge Shoots Today Kills Tomorrow finds Hombrecito’s enemy. Enemy no die. Enemy, his medicine strong. I see many riders search far for Shoots Today Kills Tomorrow. They find it, take it, see Hombrecito, then leave. Enemy remembers Hombrecito. He returns. I know I must ride plenty quick, or Hombrecito dies. The enemy, he comes pronto. Vamonos pronto.”
I stared at him with my mouth open and felt myself trembling down in my gut. Rufus’s said, “Aye, God, Henry, run get Sally an’ the paint. Take ’em up the canyon. Hobble ’em. Rope off a little corral around that old log back in the corner of the canyon. You know, where we usually try our longest shots. This here storm’s a comin’, and it’ll likely scare hell out of ’em. They’ll try to wander back here if they ain’t fenced in back there. If you hear shootin’, you hide up in the juniper behind where we put targets. Be kerful and don’t get on no glass. Don’t come back here till I call ye if they’s shootin’. If it’s quiet, ye come back on the side trail to that overhang I fixed fer us to hide on. Ye understand me boy?”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
I was off the porch and down to the corral faster than a quail crossing the road. There was already a strong breeze filling the air with the coppery smell of rain, and I could hear faint thunder off to the west. The storm would be over us in less than an hour. The paint stood with his head down, no strength left except to eat. He was easy to halter. Sally was skittish with the coming storm, but I knew her tricks and got the halter rope around her neck before she ducked out into the corral.
I led them up the canyon to the log Rufus mentioned. The log was an old juniper tree that had fallen over. I’d rested Little David on it many times to shoot at the bottles Rufus used for targets. The paint and Sally were easy to hide and protect some from the storm there. The wind was swirling up and down the canyon when I finished their hobbles and a little rope corral using the log as one side.
I strained to hear against the increasing moan of the wind high above the canyon walls. There was no sound of gunfire. I ran along the path up on the north canyon wall about ten feet above the path we usually took to shoot. I had to run in stops and starts, waiting for the lightning to show me the way. I knew I needed to get to the overhang before the rain came, because the path would become slick and dangerous when it started raining. There was a pause in the wind and a bright flash and crack of thunder just as I got to where I had to climb up to the overhang.
Rufus and Yellow Boy were stretched out on their bellies, staring out into the darkness through the juniper bushes fronting the ledge. I could hear the low mumble of their voices as I came down the path. I had nearly climbed up to the ledge when I heard Rufus say, “Come on up here beside us, Henry.”
I stretched out beside Yellow Boy. The old Henry resting in his hands was on half cock, a cartridge in the chamber ready to fire. Rufus was loading the rifle he had just bought. Three boxes of cartridges lay between them. Cody was tied in the shed, chewing on a piece of meat left to keep him quiet. It was darker than a tomb behind those bushes except when lightning flashes spread over everything. The wind began to pick up and blow dust up the canyon, swirling little dust devils up and down its sides. There were droplets of rain mixed with it. In the lightning flashes, we saw a big cloud with a column of rain over on the western edge of the valley and knew it wouldn’t be long before the storm was on top of us.
“Are we going to shoot them if they come?” I whispered. I thought, Now we’ll see if you’re such a big dog, Stone. Yellow Boy’s gonna cut your nuts off.
Yellow Boy shook his head. “No, Hombrecito. It is bad place por ambush. There no way out. Here, we have no extra bullets, no food, no water if men stay and shoot back. If we shoot and men leave, they get away easy, warn others. Then maybe we never avenge su padre. We must wait. Later, we find good place to spill blood.” He paused for a moment and added, “Pero, if they find us, we must kill them all. Everyone. Comprende, Hombrecito?”
I nodded, and Rufus spat and said, “Yellow Boy, what ye’re sayin’, that there’s a fact.”
There was only the moan of the wind through the canyon. We lay there without moving, feeling the wind rise and fall, the smell of water on creosotes from down in the valley getting stronger. I opened my mouth to tell Yellow Boy about my adventure when he reached over and grabbed Rufus’s forearm. He nodded toward the trail and cocked his head to listen. The wind was getting stronger and dust was pelting our hiding place. I was gritting my teeth. The blowing dust burned my skin like fire ants were biting it.
The wind was blowing so hard I couldn’t hear or see anything. It was darker than Stone’s soul. I barely saw Yellow Boy’s head, and he was right next to me. Then there was a sudden, short pause in the wind, and I heard a stone rattle down the trail. My heart started thumping so hard it was about to jump out of my chest. I’d have sold my soul for a swallow of water to wash away the dry cotton in my mouth.
There was a tremendous flash of light as a wicked bolt from the cloud over Las Cruces split and thumped three different spots with a roar of white, blinding fury. Thunder ricocheted against the
mountains. The flash revealed four riders reined up in the middle of the yard, their rifles across their saddles. The man closest to us was Red Tally. One of the other riders had been with Stone and Bentene when they pistol-whipped Rufus. I didn’t recognize the other two. They all wore long black dusters with collars turned up to fend off the wind, and their horses were black.
I clenched my teeth, and heard my heart pounding in my ears. I wished to God I had Little David. I’d settle accounts right then. I didn’t care if I died on the spot. At least I would get the man who shot Daddy.
Red Tally bent his head and cupped his hands as he lit a cigarette. Another lightning flash, and I saw the men had their rifles pointed at the shack door. Kerosene lanterns hung off the saddles of a couple of the riders. One of them yelled above the roar of the wind swirling in the canyon, “Come on out, Pike. Bring the kid with you. Come out now or we’ll burn you out!”
Flashes of lightning were becoming brighter and more frequent as the storm began skirting the Organs and moving off toward El Paso. Tally looked at the rider next to him and motioned him forward with a wave of his rifle. The rider climbed down and stepped on to the porch, his rifle ready. He walked up to the shack door, kicked it open, and jumped inside, firing several times as he went.
Rufus sighted on the doorway and brought the hammer back on his Winchester, but Yellow Boy grabbed him by the arm and shook his head. Rufus spat in disgust and put his rifle back on half cock. The man in the shack came out and yelled into the wind’s fury, “Ain’t nobody here! They was though! Fireplace is still hot! You wanna burn ’em out?”
Tally looked around, and, apparently not liking the odds, especially if they went farther up the canyon, shook his head. Raindrops the size of marbles began to pelt us.
He pulled his horse around and yelled, “No! Leave it! Wouldn’t burn now anyway, and I ain’t riding up that canyon in this rain and dark! I’ll finish the job in a day or two! Come on, let’s get down that trail before it’s too slick and washed out to use!”
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