Sarah's Quilt

by Nancy E. Turner

  “Where’d you get that? That’s not one of ours. No one’s trying to make you look ignorant,” I said. “Put that away. Sit here a spell and let’s have a talk. You need to make some things right with your cousin Ezra.” I reached for him, my arms outstretched.

  Something frightening came into Willie’s face, so I let him be. “Look at that,” he said, twirling the pistol again.

  If that had been one of my boys, he would not have been able to sit for a week, talking to me like that. There’s something violent inside that boy that I didn’t want to stir up. I don’t aim to go hand to hand with a man who’s a foot taller than me. I sure don’t aim to call down a boy with evil in his eyes, especially one toting a loaded pistol.

  I thought he’d gone off to the desert somewhere, angry, but a little while later, Willie was in the yard, playing quick-draw pulls from his belt, aiming at the barn without a care in the world for the animals that were inside there, or the people who might be working in it, too.

  “Come on up to the house,” I said. “We’ve got some talking to do.”

  Willie said, “I’m busy.”

  “I’m not going to ask you again, boy. You can just go to bed tonight without supper. See if your attitude is a little gentler in the morning.”

  I’d just closed the door when I heard a dog yelp. I went to the window. Nip was slinking away from Willie, who had just crossed his path. He ran to the porch and hid beneath it. Now I would go at him. Nobody hurts my animals. I picked up my snake stick and commenced following him, calling out, “Willie Prine! Get your no-account self back to this house. Turn around right now and come home. I’m going to give you the licking you just earned.”

  He turned around, the pistol still in his hand, and he twirled it again on his finger. He stared at me hard. “Home? Leave me alone,” he said. “Leave me the hell alone.”

  I was dumbstruck. I never in my life had felt so muddled and angry all at once. If that’d been a stranger, I might have left fly with a load of buckshot at him. Wouldn’t have felt one bit sad if it’d hit him. If it’d been someone threatening my kinfolk, I’d not have given him time to threaten twice. Never in all my days would a member of my family have said such a thing and acted so threatening when called on it. Reckon the end of it, too, was that I was afraid of someone that slept under my own roof.

  A hot breath of air rustled some leaves off the bushes nearby. Thunder tumbled across the sky. Willie went on his way, on foot, over the sandy ridge. I went back and coaxed Nip from under the porch with a piece of cheese, then felt of him all over, looking for broken bones. When I let him go and the cheese was all gone, he went back under the porch and stayed.

  I started walking just to let off steam. Then I decided the only thing to do was to talk with each person in the family who needed to know and explain what had just happened. This went against my grain worse than anything, because that’s the root of gossip, to go carrying tales from one person to the next without saying it in front of the boy. Then I remembered that dangerous look in his eyes and the thought that his mean streak might come out worse with time. We were going to have to take that pistol away from that boy. I kept walking and made a big loop, headed to Savannah’s. I figured either something had happened at Rudolfo’s overnight or that Felicity had written something that set Willie off.

  We worked a long day, pulling in cattle from the south hills and counting more now with my brand. The Lazy Bar E brand was not hard to spot, and it was easier for me to be closer to home, since there was less travel time. Willie showed up, but he stayed away from us all, working either by himself or alongside a couple of the drifters Rudolfo had hired to help.

  Someone had bunged up my south windmill again. Not as bad this time, as far as real damage. They’d broken open the lock and put rocks on the gears, which came out just as easy. But there was that white powder in the troughs, and two dead antelopes next to it, along with a bull I couldn’t identify, and the half-eaten corpse of a javelina. I closed down the gear works and shut off the water.

  Well, I’d barely gotten through and put my gloves back on, when a shiver ran up my spine. I took one step toward my pony and slid my rifle from the scabbard as quietly as I could. I heard the movement more clearly this time. “Step out!” I called, and chambered a shell. “Come out of those bushes, or the next twig that snaps, I’ll shoot.”

  “So violent, my dear lady. Why art thou so ferocious? Could’st it be that Diana endowed thee with the huntress’s skill but a murderess’s heart?” said a voice I knew like I knew my own mother’s.

  “Lazrus, you lunatic, step out here.”

  He came forward, hands before him, like some prayerful supplicant. “I live only to do your bidding.”

  “You the one who’s poisoned my water?”

  The cocky look left him. He jerked his head toward the windmill. “Poisoned ?”

  “You telling me you didn’t see the dead animals all around?”

  “I only just arrived, Mrs. Elliot, drawn by the electric aura of your presence. Jehoshaphat! I thought it was simply dry and you’d need me to find another. The water!” He seemed to have forgotten I was holding him at gunpoint, and he darted toward the tanks. “Oh!” he roared. “Thunder and lightning! Mephistopheles and Beelzebub!” He grabbed up a handful of the white powder and held it close to his face, grimacing, sniffing, eyeing it as if he were trying to foresee something through it. “What plague! Vile rogue that did this. Show me the villain that procured this substance, and I’ll tear his liver out through his eyes.” He shook the fistful of stuff toward the sky. The powder filtered down and settled on his beard. Lazrus whirled around, his trappings loose in the wind, and faced me. “What of the water source? Was this put into the well itself, or merely scattered here?”

  I hadn’t even considered that. “I don’t know,” I said. “Are you telling me you didn’t do this?”

  “I have never lied to you, madam. I have brought you truth you will not hear, but I do not lie. Never, ever, would I defile the nectar of life. To destroy water is to destroy creation. Show me to the pump!”

  I pointed with the tip of the rifle to the very obvious windmill. “Yonder.”

  He hurried to the windmill pipe and deftly removed the cover, then brushed away some gravel and pulled the pin so that it began to move very slowly. After a few seconds, a stream of crystal water ran over the fouled tanks. Lazrus sprang right into the tank and leaned over the pipe. He straightened up then and whipped his tunic over his head. Standing right in the trough, he sniffed over the waterspout, then bent and drank deeply from it. If it had been poisoned, he’d be drinking his death.

  “Stop,” I said.

  He gulped more and then stood, a broad grin spreading across his face as water dribbled from the corners of his mouth. His grizzled beard was now wet in streaks, white-powdered in streaks, and something that looked like leaves was snarled in it. “The well is fine,” he said. “The troughs, however, are tainted with ratsbane and caustic potash.”

  “Are you sure?” I shuddered down into my boots. He was standing knee-deep in the deadly stuff.

  “I know water, dear one. I’m touched by your sentiment. Your care for my welfare.” He turned and faced me, water dripping from his beard to his bare chest.

  “My concern was that if you poisoned my well, I didn’t want to see you die from it if I could watch you hang instead.”

  “Vitriol pours from your lips like the water from this pipe.” He looked toward the sky and raised his hands. “Is this the woman sent me? How shall I live with her?”

  “What are you doing here, if you didn’t come to ruin the water?”

  “I told you. Thought you’d need another well.”

  “Lazrus, I’m telling you one last time to get off my property. If I see you slipping around, if anyone sees or even thinks they see you, we are going to haul you to Tucson and put you in jail. And that will be their second option. You won’t like the first one.”

  “Mrs. Ellio
t, say you believe me about the water? I’d never do this to water.” There was earnestness in his voice.

  I watched him carefully. And I did believe him. But I wasn’t sure if I should allow the scallywag a single moment of hope. I wanted him gone. He turned toward me again, his face open and pleading. On his bare chest were several long and old scars, three of which looked to be bullet wounds. They were laced with newer scars, some still dark and purple. Lazrus smiled. The sun gleamed on the scars. His eyes glared. He said, “Your eyes cut me to the heart. Oh torpid stream, sleep ever more, for she is removed from your grasp.”

  I looked into his eyes. Time slowed and everything took on a strange quiet. I heard my own breathing. “You did this,” I said.

  He stepped out of the trough, coming toward me. Lazrus roared. “No! I’m covered in innocent blood, Sarah.” He was brawny as a young man.

  I moved backward, realizing this could be my one chance to get him to choose to leave me alone. I said, “I see you hiding back there, watching to see what happens, the way a person watches the suffering he caused. You poisoned my well. Your presence here marks you guilty, in my book. I found you here when I discovered it ruined. You want me to believe you didn’t poison my water, there’s only one choice. Get off this place. Don’t come back.”

  His features dropped as a look of utter defeat came over him. “But I love you.” Tears streamed from his eyes, making dark, wet furrows in his beard. These met with the ones created by the water. “You don’t believe I did this, do you?”

  Tears filled my eyes. I looked straight at him and lied. “Yes, I do.”

  “To verify my innocence to you, once more I shall become yet another soul banished from Eden.” Lazrus looked at me one more time, hard. “Vesuvius!” At that last, his old mule came from the brush and ambled to his side. He leapt upon the animal, then groaned and said, “Oh, it is a more terrible thing I do now than I have ever done. The only way I can now have your faith is to abandon your presence forever. What curses the gods heap upon the condemned ! Vesuvius? Carry us hence!” He whipped that mule and rode off in a cloud of dust.

  I was shed of Lazrus! And it had happened by his own choice.

  I reckon with enough anger, a woman can pretty much be strong as a man. As hard as it was to waste the new troughs and all, I shot holes in both of them. When the water was drained, I lassoed the rim bracing of one and had the horse pull it loose. Then I wrestled it up myself and turned it clear over. If I ever do catch the snake that did this, there’ll be the devil to pay.

  By twilight, my count was live stock 190, dead 28—a poor percentage. As we gathered in my yard, where Chess and Savannah and all their girls had laid the tables swaying down with food, I made everybody listen while I told them about my meeting with Lazrus and what he’d said was in my tanks.

  Soon as the men got ready to settle, Gilbert pulled out his guitar and Shorty played a mouth harp. The night was peaceful. I went to pet my old horses and Hunter, who was sporting around the ring as Pillbox ate. I climbed through the rails and found myself a perch on the top one. Rudolfo came looking for me. He stood silent nearby for a long time. I knew he was there, but I kept on studying my horses. “Sarah?” he said.

  “Yes?” I replied.

  “This thing which has happened, maybe it was predestinado.”

  I said, “¿Para qué?”

  “Perhaps it is meant for us to be together. Your herd is depleted. That is, if you are faced with losing everything, it can all be saved. Marry me. Marry me and share all that I have. You will live here forever and will not worry about money or cattle the rest of your life. I’m a rich man, Sarah. More than you know. I have land in Mexico, too. Fine horses in Vera Cruz. Things are changing in Mexico. I tell you so you will know this is not a foolish offer. I will be a rich man, whether I sit in the throne of the gobernador or not. You will not be sorry.”

  “Rudolfo,” I said, though I didn’t really know what I would say next. I didn’t feel desperate. Not broken, yet. Not ready to just give over because there wasn’t any choice. My gathering of the herd wasn’t done. Surely the rest of them were out there somewhere. I was just tired. I’d had the last word with Lazrus, finally. A small victory. I was almost startled when Rudolfo’s hand closed over mine on the rail. I didn’t pull away. I didn’t feel anything for him, but I didn’t pull away.

  Chapter Fifteen

  August 4, 1906

  If there was a time the earth could have burst into flame by its own heat, this summer would have been it. The whole of my ranch felt like one enormous stove top, heated and waiting. Then this morning I saw a rolling cloud, looking heavy and dark, growing high into the sky toward the south. For weeks, I had watched clouds form over distant ridges, seen rain fall, waving like a blue sheet stretched from the sky to the ground, smelled lightning snapping, hungered for the music of thunder. Barely a drop had hit ground that I own, as if it had been singled out to be scorched dry until nothing remained but sand and scorpions. It was an odd time of day for a thunderstorm, but this one was coming straight for us. Hallelujah. Rain at last.

  Under the darkening sky, I fed the chickens and then put out breakfast for my family. Every pulse of my heart sang a song in my ears: rain at last, rain at last. The other side of the same coin was that it would be a poor day to gather cattle. They’d be spooky, same as the horses, and we’d have a terrible time moving them. I talked it over with Chess and the boys, and we decided to postpone our sorting and gathering yet another day. Charlie rode south to help picket the combined herds. I thought he’d be back soon, but he’s taking a long time. Probably going as far down as the Hannas’ place, since they seem determined to help out and are real neighborly.

  Over the last couple of days, a dreadful anticipation about Rose has crowded my mind. She’s not getting well soon enough—off her feed but drinking water. Just as Mason’s death was not really a surprise, I expected at any time to look out and see her down. If Pillbox or the others get close, she hobbles away, determined to do her suffering in solitude.

  After breakfast I asked Mary Pearl and Esther to help me clear out Granny’s house and do some washing. When we got my mama’s place emptied and closed the door, I turned away so as not to feel the tug of letting go. Then the girls and I started the iron wash kettle going at my place. It sure was nice having so much help. Ezra and Zachary tumbled in and out, underfoot, but not really trouble, as every time they got near, I gave them something to carry somewhere or another.

  Chess and Gilbert were in the barn. On a ranch there’s always a loose stirrup, a blanket with a tear that will blister a horse’s back, or some such that needs tending. Willie took a hammer and nails and went up on the roof, looking for loose places in the tin sheets. Now and then he made a racket, fixing them down to get ready for the coming storm.

  In about an hour, we had all the clothes on the lines. The breeze picked up but that hollow, dank feeling before a storm didn’t come. The way it sometimes rained in patches like a crazy quilt, it could be raining at Maldonado’s and not here. I caught a whiff of ashes, as if the hired hands were burning trash by the bunkhouse, and in this wind, there’s no good to come of that. I went to tell them to douse the fire, but their fires were cold out. The burning smell got stronger; wood and something dirty, like a log full of termite holes and sand accidentally put in a campfire.

  Suddenly, the wind stopped and the air felt so still and hot, it pained me to breathe. Mosquitoes descended upon every live thing. I stood near the bunkhouse and watched as the dark cloud moved upon us like a blanket pulled on a giant-size bed. It still looked like a dust storm, growing without wind. It carried something vinegary and sharp-tasting in it. The air filled with dust and acid; it burned our eyes. Chess and Gilbert left their work in the barn. Gilbert said, “Mama, we told Shorty and Flores to get home and see to their families. Just in case this is some tail-spinner of a storm.”

  As miserable as that hot wind had been a few minutes before, this terrible stillness see
med to suck the air from the lights. I put my fists on my hips and studied this approaching shadow that looked like a biblical plague. All at once, a gust of air slapped my skirt against the door post and stung my face with hot sand. Mary Pearl and Esther went hurrying inside with damp clothes they’d taken from the line. I hollered, “Willie! Can you see anything from up there?”

  “Smoke, Aint Sair.”

  The word tolled in my heart, so terrible I couldn’t say it. It consumed me and my power of speech, as if my voice was in its awesome path. Wildfire. “Come on down. Get in the house, Willie.” I watched him climb from the roof, then I took another look at the sky before I opened the door. Willie and I dashed inside just as the blanket of smoke descended. The acid smell eked its way through every crook in the boards so the air indoors was near hard to breathe as that outside. Outside the windows the world had turned to a mist of grayish brown in all directions.

  Fire had taken Jack from me. A fire he had gone into, not away from. Charlie had ridden south to Udell Hanna’s place. Toward the fire.

  Chess said, “You girls better get up the road to home right away.”

  Mary Pearl’s large eyes grew even larger, but she took Esther’s hand and said, “We’ll stay and help you. We’ll clear brush and get the dogs inside.”

  I said, “I’m riding down to the Hannas’. Make sure everything’s all right with Charlie. He went to set picket—”

  Chess threw his hat down, saying, “No, ma’am. He’ll be helping out if they need it. You’ll hear what he knows soon as he gets back, but you aren’t going there even if I have to tie you up to keep you here. I’ve seen a prairie fire before. Brush and trees, dry sage and greasewood that’ll go up like kerosene bombs surround us. Tumbleweeds in a fire roll like moving torches, and we’ve got more of ’em than I ever saw in fifty years in Texas. There’s plenty of men there to see to the Hannas.”

  I made a fist and pressed my lips against my tight fingers, pushing back the panic that made me want to scream. I said, “All right. We’re going to stay here and draw water and save this house. You all fetch every bucket and jug you can find. Wrap something around your face you can wet down. Gilbert, you and Will fetch every rake and hoe we’ve got from the barn.”