by Edward Gates
The bartender returned with two mugs. He shouted at the man at the end of the bar. “You need another whiskey, Frank?” The man shook his head, finished what was left in his glass and left the saloon. “How ‘bout you, Mr. Barnes? You need more coffee?”
The businessman said he was fine and returned to reading the paper by the sunlight streaming in through the front window.
“Let’s sit over here,” the bartender said as he carried the two mugs to the table closest to the end of the bar. Charlie joined him. After they both were seated, the bartender continued. “I do know Texas Jack. He didn’t come around all that much. Their group was part of the Frontier Battalion so they stayed mostly out west. Whenever they were in town, though, they always came in here. Jack was always the life of the Rangers with a joke and a good word for everyone.”
“Have you seen him since the war?”
“I have. But I gotta tell ya, he ain’t the same man.”
“War has a way of changing people.” Charlie added, “And it’s never in a good way.” He paused. “Is Jack still around?”
The bartender leaned back in his chair. “Every once in a while, he comes around.” He paused, took another sip of coffee. “Well, you told me how you know him. But you still ain’t said what you want with him.”
Charlie sat back and took a deep breath. “I guess I just want to look up an old friend. He may not even remember me.” He paused a moment. “He thought I’d make a good Ranger. That stuck with me all this while. I wanted to find him to see if he could help get me into the Rangers.”
“Rangers ain’t around no more.”
“I know. That’s what everybody keeps telling me.”
“So, if there ain’t no Rangers, what are you going to do now?”
Charlie shrugged. “I don’t know. I was a freighter and I’m a deputy sheriff in Fort Smith. I guess I’ll find some work somewhere. Thanks for the coffee.” Charlie stood. “If you happen to see Jack again, tell him Charlie Turlock sends his regards.”
“Charlie?” the bartender said as he extended his hand. “My name’s Benjamin Kline. I own this place.”
They shook hands. “Pleasure to meet you, Ben.”
“I rode with the Rangers for quite a while, ´til the governor stopped paying us. A lot of us went other ways after that. I bought this place.”
Charlie sat back down. “That explains why the Rangers would always meet here.”
Ben nodded. “Some of the squads stayed together just because they had nowhere else to go. Most of us had no home and no family. The Rangers were our family and our life. With no pay coming in, the groups that stayed together lived off the spoils of their adventures. I ain’t too proud to say that some of their adventures weren’t so law-abiding.”
“I take it you got out about that time.”
“Couldn’t see myself breaking any law I spent years upholding. Called it quits.” Ben finished what was in his mug. “Jack continued to ride with one of those groups. His group stayed mostly in northwest Texas. They turned into vigilante bounty hunters. They fought Indian raiders and collected their weapons and any other spoils they could sell or trade. They also went after outlaws and deserters and stole whatever they had and collected any bounty that was on them. It was hard on all of them.”
“But that group all ended up in Crockett,” Charlie said.
“Not all. Like I said, it was a hard life. Some of the Rangers had enough and rode off to find something better. A lot of them signed on with the Riflemen and went off to the army. As Ross’ squad numbers began to dwindle, he volunteered what was left of them to the service of the Confederacy. At least that way they’d be off the road and have regular meals.” Ben paused. “I happen to know where Jack is. But I remind you. He ain’t the same.”
“Why? What happened to him?”
“Near as I can figure, Jack was in a lot of battles. The last one took its toll on him. He was wounded pretty bad and patched up best they could. Eventually he was sent to a hospital and then released from the army. He came here to Austin.”
“Is he in town, here?” Charlie asked, excited to finally see Texas Jack.
Ben nodded. “Yep. I can take you to him.”
“Well, where is he?”
Ben raised his hand and pointed to the table in the dark corner. “That’s him. Slumped over that table there.”
Charlie caught his breath.
58
Texas Jack
Charlie followed the bartender to where Jack was sleeping with his head on the table. They both stood for a moment silently watching him. Jack was in a filthy, stained and torn confederate uniform. The stench surrounding him was enough to make Charlie gag. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to find when he began his search for Jack, but this indigent wasn’t what he expected. The left sleeve of Jack’s blouse was pinned to the shoulder. His hair and beard were long and matted and it was obvious that he hadn’t bathed or changed clothes for quite some time.
“Where does he live?”
“Mostly here. He ain’t got no place else to go. He used to go about walkin’ the streets and sleepin’ wherever he fell. But lately it’s gettin’ to where he don’t want to leave this place. Most people turn their backs or step to the other side of the street when they see cripples like him.” Ben paused a moment. “Jack was a good Ranger, one of the best. I ain’t got the heart to turn him out.”
“Is this all he’s got? Isn’t there anyone that can care for him?”
“No one.” Ben took a step closer to the table. “Like I said. Most of the Rangers don’t have no family, except other Rangers. Most of the old ones passed or moved on. Ain’t nothing’ Jack can move on to. Ain’t much callin’ for a one-armed cripple.”
“So all he’s got is you?”
Ben nodded. “I fix food and he eats what I eat. Folks will usually buy him a few drinks during the night. He drinks till he sleeps. During the day he cleans up around here. I let him sweep up, wipe down the tables, straighten up some. Makes him feel like he’s earnin’ his keep.”
“He sleep on tables every night?”
“Naw. He’s got a cot in the storeroom. Most of the time he makes it back there. Sometimes he just passes out at the table. Like this. I just let him be.” Ben shook Jack’s shoulder. “Jack. Jack! Wake up. You got a visitor!”
Jack made a gruff sound, turned his head around and then laid it back on the table. Charlie could now see the left side of his face. It was burned and scarred.
“Come on, Jack. Wake up. There’s a man here to see ya.”
Jack raised his head and looked at Ben. He squinted his eyes. “What? A man?”
“Yeah. This fella here came a long way just to see ya.” Ben pointed to Charlie. “You know him?”
Jack looked at Charlie and then back to Ben. He blinked his eyes and squinted as he looked a second time. After studying him for a few moments, Jack let out a sigh. “I do not know this man.” He laid his head back down on the table. “Leave me be,” he mumbled.
Ben looked at Charlie and shrugged his shoulders. Charlie sat down across from Jack.
“Jack. Jack, it’s me, Charlie Turlock. You saved my butt in an Indian attack in northwest Texas back in ’63. You remember?” Charlie paused. Jack shifted his head but didn’t look up. “We met again later that spring at the army camp in Crockett. Jack, look at me.”
The old Ranger raised his head and ran his right hand through his hair clearing it away from his face. He rubbed his eyes and then gazed at Charlie. “Your name does not strike a chord with me.” He coughed and leaned back in his chair still looking at Charlie. “I do not know you, sir. But I will entertain you buying me a coffee and breakfast. I will be glad to relate to you my story and be obliged to listen to yours.”
Charlie nodded at Ben, who smiled and walked off to fix Jack’s breakfast.
All during a meal of coffee, eggs, biscuits and bacon, Charlie listened to Jack tell of the battles he participated in during the war. In his last battle,
during a charge on a Union line, an artillery shell exploded next to him that took off his left arm above the elbow, wounded his left leg below the knee, and tore open his left side. He didn’t remember too much of them putting him back together in the field tent, but he did remember eventually being transported to a hospital in Richmond. Later he was released from the army and made his way back to Texas.
“What about before the war?” Charlie asked. “Do you remember anything before you got into the army?”
Jack appeared to be searching his memory. Then he frowned, lowered his head and slowly shook it side to side. “No, sir. I guess I do not.”
“Well how’d you know to come back to Austin? You had to remember that you were a Ranger and from Texas. How’d you know to come back here and end up at Kline’s Saloon?”
Jack’s lower lip began to tremble and his eyes glazed with moisture. He turned away from Charlie. At that point Charlie realized that Jack most likely remembered his past but couldn’t bear the thought of it.
“I’m sorry, Jack. It must be terribly hard for you to think of how things were and how you are now.”
Jack looked back at Charlie, his face rigid. “Don’t you dare patronize me. You have no idea what it’s like.” Jack wiped his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “I wish to hell they’d a let me die.” Charlie didn’t say anything. “What’d you come here for, anyway?” Jack finally asked.
Charlie was a little surprised by the question. “You remember me, Jack?”
“Yeah. I do remember your face, but I wouldn’t have remembered anything about you if you didn’t tell me. You said it was Charlie, right? What do you want with me? Why did you come looking for me?”
“Well, I bought you breakfast and listened to your war stories. I believe you said you were obliged to listen to my story.”
Jack chuckled. “Well I guess I am at that. Go ahead then. But make it quick. As you can see I’m a busy man.”
Charlie laughed, which brought about a smile from Jack.
“Back in ’63 you told me you thought I’d make a good Ranger. That thought stuck with me all this time. I’ve been a deputy sheriff in Fort Smith for a while and I like it. I searched you out because I want you to help me get into the Texas Rangers.”
“You’re crazier than I am.” Jack laughed out loud. “There ain’t no Rangers, you fool.” Jack looked over at Ben. “Hey Ben! This here fella wants to be a Ranger.” He laughed again. Ben just shook his head.
Charlie sat and waited for Jack to finish his laughter. “Are you done? I know the only Rangers left are the Frontier Battalion patrolling the western borders between camps. But I also know that the Rangers are going to be re-formed throughout the state and it’s going to happen soon.”
“And how do you know all this?”
“What I can tell you, Jack, is there’s movement on the floor of the Texas legislature right now that will allow the governor to form three regiments for special purposes. If that gets the go-ahead, they’ll be looking for men.”
Jack stared at him without a word. He finished the coffee and shook his head. “Why in the world do you ever want to be a Ranger? Where did you get the idea that this was some kinda sweet job? You live in a saddle from sunup to sundown. You sleep outside more than you do in. You don’t see another person for weeks on end, except them you ride with. And when you do see someone, it’s usually someone no good.”
“You didn’t seem to mind it,” Charlie argued.
“I did. I just didn’t let on ‘cause I didn’t have much else. I always dreamed about my own place where I could run some horses. Wasn’t in the cards, though.” Jack lowered his head and let out a sigh. “You sure spin a good yarn, though. Even if they do get the Rangers back together, there ain’t gonna be no callin’ for a one-armed cripple.” Jack leaned back in his chair. “More than anything, I’d like to believe you. But I know there ain’t nothin’ for me. Ain’t ever gonna be nothin’… ever.” He brushed his hand through the air as if dismissing Charlie. “I certainly wish you luck, Deputy Turlock. You can leave me be, now.”
Charlie shook his head. “You’re wrong Jack. When the governor starts to put together the Rangers, he’s going to need seasoned men. Men who know the Rangers and how to fight. Men like you and Ben over there. You can train new recruits, Jack. You may not be able to ride or shoot like you used to, but you can help organize the units. You have to believe me.” Jack remained quiet.
Charlie stood. “So that’s it, then?” he said with an air of disappointment. “So you just gonna spend the rest of your days in this corner, wallowing in your filth and feeling sorry for yourself?”
“Hey, now. There ain’t no cause to talk to Jack like that,” Ben hollered across the room in Jack’s defense. Charlie held up his hand as a signal for Ben to stay out of it.
“Get the hell away from me,” Jack spit out.
Charlie stepped away from the table. “I’m going to be back to see you, Jack.” After a brief pause he quickly stepped forward and placed both hands on the table and leaned in toward Jack. “You just remember this. You’re not the only one that’s ever been wounded in a war. There’s a lot of folks that are lame and some missing a limb just like you. And a lot of them are leading productive lives. A man’s only defeated when he thinks he’s defeated. You think about that.” He stepped back. “I’ll be back to see you in a couple of days.”
Charlie stepped to the bar and set two silver dollars down. “This ought to cover the breakfast and coffee.” He looked at Ben, smiled and gave a wink. Ben nodded back. “I’ll be gone for a couple of days. I have some things I need to take care of. But I’ll be back.” He watched Jack set his head back on the table, then headed out the door.
Charlie walked out to the prairie where his only audience was a handful of Texas longhorn cows. He initiated the time belt and smiled as he watched the cows through the blue-green light emitted by the time belt. He returned to his room in Fort Smith.
Charlie sat on his bed wondering what his next move should be regarding Texas Jack. He was disappointed and a little disgusted with the way he found Jack. It wasn’t at all what he had hoped for. His visions of a joyous reunion with the two of them heading out on an adventure to start new lives as Rangers was ruined.
Charlie wondered if he should abandon his plans and just go it alone. Jack wasn’t going to be much use to him in his present condition. In fact, he may just turn out to be a burden. Maybe Jack was right. Maybe in this era there wouldn’t be any help for him. Maybe he was stuck in his situation and there really wasn’t a way out for him.
Charlie sat in thought for a long time. The silver-blue moonlight that somewhat illuminated his room was turning orange. Daylight was approaching. He sighed. No matter how much he tried to justify it, he couldn’t leave Jack the way he found him. He’d have to try anything he could to help. Ben Kline’s words about not being able to turn Jack out resonated with Charlie. Jack saved his life and he considered Jack a friend. He couldn’t turn his back on him.
He had left Jack with a promise that he’d be back in a couple of days. He’d have to come up with a plan of action for Jack when he went back. The problem was that Charlie hadn’t the slightest idea what to do.
59
Shave and a Haircut
Charlie sat in the Fort Smith sheriff’s office contemplating the future of Texas Jack and the Texas Rangers. The 1867 legislative bill would allow for the formation of the Texas Rifles, which essentially was a private police militia the governor could use as he saw fit. They would eventually become the basis for the re-establishment of the Rangers. Charlie had to find who would be saddled with the task of recruiting and forming the regiments; that would be the man he needed to befriend. But first, he needed to see Texas Jack one more time.
Sheriff O’Shea entered the office in the middle of the afternoon. Charlie returned to his room and took a late afternoon nap that lasted on into the night. When he woke, he strapped on the time belt and set it for another visit to Aust
in - two days after his first visit. Following the jump, he walked into Austin and immediately went to Ben Kline’s saloon. It was midday and the saloon was considerably busier than it had been the other morning. The bar was filled with patrons drinking and enjoying their noon meal. Charlie looked around but didn’t see Jack anywhere. He walked to the bar and Ben came by and said, “What’ll you have?” without looking at him.
“Is the coffee on the house again?”
The bartender stopped what he was doing, looked at him and smiled. “Charlie, right?” he said after a moment of recognition. “You’re that friend of Jack’s that was in here a couple days ago.”
“Right on both accounts. Is Jack around?”
“No, haven’t seen him today. What can I get for you?”
“Let me have a coffee.”
“Coffee it is.”
Ben returned and set a mug in front of him.
“Is Jack coming back?”
Ben smiled a full-face grin which Charlie couldn’t help but answer with one of his own. Ben leaned in closer. “You won’t believe it, but that day, after you left, Jack sat there for the longest time. Not doin’ nothin’. Just starin’ at the table. I thought maybe he was sick or something. When I asked him how he was, he looked at me real serious-like, and said he stunk.” Ben broke out in a laugh. “He said… he said he smelled like a dead coyote.” Ben’s laugh was infectious and Charlie began to laugh along with him. “Well, sir, when he said that, I just had to laugh and then ol’ Jack began to laugh. You know, that was the first time I heard Jack laugh since he come here. He wiped his face and stood up. Then, he asked if he could borrow two-bits to get a shave and a haircut. I says to him, ‘Why don’t you get a bath, too?’”
Ben stopped smiling and a serious look came over him. “Then, the strangest thing -- he just stopped and froze and stared at me. I swear he turned as pale as a new-laundered sheet. He shook his head and walked back and laid down on his cot without sayin’ another word. Stayed there all day.”