Chapter 7
Missouri
“There they are boys, Wagon’s west,” yelled Ray from the top of the ridge.
The other two rode up alongside him, “by God you were right Ray,” laughed Larry.
“Now we see if they’ll let us tag along all the way to California,” said John.
“Well, since none of us know how to get to California, and the odds of us three against the entire Indian population ain't great we either join ‘em or follow ‘em real close,” smiled Ray.
“You think your Ma is on that train?” asked Larry.
“Only one way to find out,” said Ray as he nudged Horse on down the hill.
The boys rode into town stopping at a wagon being filled with supplies.
“Are you a part of that train headed west?” asked Ray.
“Sure am,” answered the old timer.
“When does it start pullin’ out?” asked John.
“Couple days, more wagons are comin’ so we’re awaitin’ for em,” said the old timer as he wiped the sweat from his forehead with a soiled bandana.
“Do you know who we might talk to about joinin’ the wagons?” asked Ray
“Sure do, sure do, it’s that big fella standin’ over there by the livery stable,” he pointed.
“Much obliged,” said Ray as he turned his mount and rode over to meet the man he hoped would give them a chance to reach California.
“Are you in charge of that wagon train, sir?”
“I’m the wagon master, what can I do for ya?” answered the big man.
“Well the three of us need to get to California and well, we were hopin’ we could tag along with you?” asked Ray.
“Free country, plus we may need your guns before we reach Sacramento,” said the wagon master. “You boys want to earn some money on this trip? I could us some hands to drive a couple wagons and move the remuda.”
“Yes sir!” jumped Larry. “We sure would.”
“My name’s Quincy Woods and I like that boy’s enthusiasm,” he smiled.
“That’s Larry Salinas; this here is John Calhoun, and I’m Ray Cooper. We’re down from Wisconsin,” introduced Ray.
“First thing to learn on the trail boys is we’re all from some place, but generally it’s a good idea not to ask anyone where they’re from or tell everyone where you’re from,” quipped Quincy.
The wagon master was not a small man by any stretch of the imagination. Matter of a fact, around the waist he made up at least two of Ray. The surprising thing was that given all the weight, he was still rather light of foot. He also had a personality that you warmed up to right away.
“Gentlemen,” Quincy called them gentlemen, and Ray liked it. “Meet me on the edge of town at sun rise tomorrow to join up with the train. Wagons are already meetin’ out there now.”
Larry looked up and down the main street, “which edge of town?”
They all turned and looked at Larry to try and see if he was serious. And then it hit him, “Shit, I know, the west side.”
They all laughed when Quincy remarked, “I think we had all better keep an eye on this boy or else he may end up in New York instead of California.”
That night the boys headed for the first saloon they could find. When they pushed through the bat wing doors, it was like entering another world. They’d never been in a saloon before but had heard all about them from the lumberjacks that frequented them. Ray and the boys really didn't know what to do after they entered. They stood in the doorway and just took it all in. Ray thought his heart was going to pound right out of his chest. Seeing them standing there like three sore thumbs, the barkeeper took pity on them. With a wink to the group of saloon girls in the corner he invited Ray, John and Larry up to the bar. “What’ll it be, boys?” he asked.
Looking boyishly at one another, Larry tried to answer in the deepest voice he could muster up, “Whiskey,” and slammed his hand down on the bar for emphasis.
The barkeep placed three shot glasses on the bar in front of them, filling them to the top. Using both their hands to try and keep from spilling, they each raised their glasses to their lips, looked at each other over the top of their glasses and took a sip. John sipped too much for his first time and began to cough uncontrollably, bending over as if someone had hit him in the gut. By this time every set of eyes in the Saloon were on them.
Someone yelled out in a thick accent, “Jack, what are you tryin’ to do, kill the little pups? Better save that whiskey for men and send them pups home for milk,” which sent everyone in the bar into a-hootin’, and a-hollerin’ at their expense. With a beet red face, John was finally able to stop coughing and rose up, looking around. “Who the hell said that?” demanded John, “I'll whip the man that said that!”
The room fell silent. All you could hear was a low rumble as a man slowly rose to his feet at the back of the room. The giant supported a thick black beard that matched his full head of wild hair. John was sure he had to be the largest, widest, tree trunk of a man he’d ever seen. The man moved through the scattered tables like a locomotive moving through a deep pile of snow. John figured he had to be well over six feet tall, close to three hundred pounds, and with fists that looked like two enormous anvils. Stopping inches from John, who was now in the man's shadow, he looked down into John’s sweating face.
“I said it boy. Do ya still think you can whip me?” growled the giant.
John swallowed hard, looking up at the angry man, “Are you gonna apologize?”
He looked down over his beard and chest to the teenage boy in front of him. Then with a rumble the man began to laugh so deep that the glasses on the bar began to shake.
“Well, I guess, you’re not,” said John as he turned his head slightly towards Ray and Larry with a look of final farewell.
As John turned back towards the giant, he reared back his right fist and brought it up across the man's face as Ray and Larry yelled “NO!” John had to hop a little in order to connect with the giant’s jaw. John felt certain that he saw the man's face move, a little. His hopes were up, until he saw that the man was still just smiling down at him.
Even though Ray knew that first swing was a mistake, John was in it now, and Ray wanted to give support to his partner, so in all the excitement Ray yelled “hit him again John! I think you shook him!”
John swung again and this time hit the left side of the smiling giant, again making his head move oh-so slightly. John took a couple of steps back to observe the damage he had inflicted. There wasn't as much as a red mark on the man's face.
“Boy, you either got guts or you’re dumb as a post, but I'm givin’ you credit for guts,” spoke the giant gently. “So I apologize for making a joke at your expense. However, you do need to learn to pick your fights better.” With that said, the giant’s fist came swinging up and over his head and down on top of John's, crumbling him like an opened bag of potatoes onto the floor.
The Giant stretched out his open hand to Larry and Ray, with John still lying on the floor. “Boys, I hope there ain’t no hard feelins.”
In all of their humility and of course fear they decided to forgive him.
“Don’t you worry mister, we never hold grudges,” said Larry as he took the man’s large hand in his and shook it hard.
“Let me buy you three a drink, I feel I owe you that much,” smiled the giant.
“Why thank you mister, but I don’t think John’s gonna be doing any drinking for a while,” Ray said as he looked down at John on the floor who was sleeping like a baby.
“Oh don’t worry about him, he’ll be ok,” said the giant.
He reached down and, taking John under the arms, lifted him to his feet like a feather. He shook him a little to awaken him, and then leaned him up against the bar.
“There you go little fella’,” he said as he wiped some dirt off of John’s shirt, “My names Richard Krause.”
“My names Ray, this here is Larry and our swayin’ partne
r John you already met.”
“Sorry John, about your head. I hope I didn’t hurt you too much,” apologized Richard.
“Fur…for… forget it,” said John as he rubbed the top of his head, “what did you hit me with, an axe handle?”
Richard rose up one hand and looking at it said, “I just tapped you with this.”
“Please don’t take no offense but you talk kind of funny Richard. You’re not from around here are you?” Ray asked.
“No, I came over from Germany to find my fortune,” said Richard with a smile.
“Well since you’re buyin’,” Ray said. “Why don’t you join us Richard. Make room boys.”
A few hours later found all four of them sitting around a table in the corner of the saloon. It was starting to get well on into the evening when Larry spoke what they all were thinking: “any ideas where we’re gonna to sleep tonight?”
“Well I guess under the stars like we’ve been doin’,” Ray answered.
“I sleep in my wagon tonight,” said Richard, “and tomorrow I head for California.”
“Well I’ll be damned, did you hear that John?” John was still rubbing his head. “Richard is goin’ to California, sounds like he’ll be with us all the way there.” John chuckled. He looked at Ray and then over to Richard and with a forced smile mumbled, “Well Ray, it sounds like we’re going to be just one big happy family.”
They all started laughing, except for John.
They ordered another round of drinks. Not being used to the stuff Ray began to feel it. Through the slight fog in his eyes he spotted the young woman in a pretty white blouse and noticeably short red skirt. If Ray looked close he could almost see a bare knee. He was embarrassed when he realized she was looking right at him but with a smile on her face. Ray looked behind him to see if maybe she was looking at someone else, but there was only a wall behind him.
With a prodding from the barkeep, she rose and walked across the room, heading straight for Ray. She stepped between Ray and the table he was sitting at, and then she turned and sat right down on his lap. She swung her arm around his neck and kissed him lightly on the cheek. She pulled back long enough to sink her eyes deep into his head and then whispered an invitation to go up stairs. It wasn’t that Ray yelled out “hell yes!” so much as it was more the stuttering and slurred garbled speech that let her know he was more than interested. She rose from his lap, took his hand, and led him across the saloon to the bottom of the stairs. As they walked up those stairs Ray could swear steps were being added as he walked. It felt like they would never make it to the top. Once at her destination, she opened the door and walked in. Ray followed past the doorway and into the room. The space was simple. There was the bed, which appeared to have suffered heavy use, and a dresser with a lamp and washbasin on it.
As he turned to face the girl he met downstairs he was looking at a different person. This girl was not carrying the same self-confidence or wild look in her eyes he had seen before.
“What’s wrong, did you lose somethin’?” Ray asked, feeling that this was not going the way he thought it would. Of course he had no idea how something like this was supposed to go, either.
“I don’t think I can do this,” she said as tears began to well up in her eyes. “I’ve never done this before.”
“You mean you never slept with a man before or never with one from Wisconsin?” Ray hoped the latter.
“No, I had a husband. We were heading west when he died. I needed money and in a town like this there is little else for a woman to do.”
“Well why not just sit down there and get the men to buy drinks? That should be enough for the saloon to be happy.”
“No, Mr. Rip owns the place - he’s my boss, and he wants us servicing the men. He says, happy men hang around and buy more drinks.”
She began to unbutton her blouse “Well I guess we should get started. Sally tells me the more you do it the easier it gets.”
Ray stared at the top two open buttons and then with a depression that went through him like a tidal wave he heard himself say, "Hell this ain’t right. Gets easier? This isn’t anything like I thought it might be either. I don’t feel any better about doin’ this than you do. I shouldn’t be here and neither should you. This ain’t any way to have to live a life. Listen, do ya have any money at all?”
“I only have about twenty dollars left.”
“That’ll be more than enough for now. Is there another way out of here?”
“Sure, there is a set of stairs at the end of the hall that leads down to the alleyway.”
“How long will it take you to get changed and packed?”
“I never really unpacked. I guess about five to ten minutes; all I have is a couple dresses and some of Carl’s clothes.”
“Carl, was that your husband?” asked Ray.
“Yes.”
“That gives me an idea. They might spot you heading out the back, but another cowboy would probably go unnoticed. Okay here’s what you do, go pack up and then put Carl’s clothes on. The idea is for you to look as much like a man as you can. Do you understand?”
“I think so, but why are you doing this for me?”
“Don’t worry about that right now, just get ready. I’ll meet you in the hallway in ten minutes, okay?”
“Please, please watch out for Mr. Rip, he is a snake, cold and mean, and he will kill you or maybe both of us if he catches us.”
“Okay, okay, get goin’; we can worry about that later.”
She opened the door a crack and peeked out. Finding no one in the hallway she ran through the door and headed straight for her room. Ray stayed where he was, waiting for her to get ready. He didn’t want to return to the bar too soon and raise any suspicions as to where the girl was. As far as they were concerned downstairs they were in the room doing what Ray, in his partially intoxicated state, thought would have been exciting.
After a few minutes he heard her door open and her soft footsteps going down the hall.
Just as he was about to open his door he heard a loud voice, “Hey! Where the hell do you think you’re going?” came a gruff voice. Ray opened the door a crack and peeked out. He saw the girl cowering in front of a nasty looking piece of work.
“Mr. Rip, well, well, I just needed some air. I thought I would take a little ride.”
“A little ride you say, dressed in men’s clothes carryin' a bedroll? Are you planning to earn a little extra money on your little ride? I don’t think you get the idea around here. Once you’re under my roof you stay there and do exactly what I tell you to do until I’m done with you, you ungrateful bitch."
“But Mr. Rip, I made a mistake thinking I could do this, I can’t- I just can’t.”
The girl began to cry.
Mr. Rip grabbed her arm and threw her up against the wall. He began to force himself up against her. Then he froze as still as death because death is exactly what he heard click in his ear. The sound of a .44’s hammer being pulled back can make a man’s blood run cold.
“I believe the lady does not like your advances, sir,” Ray said.
“Mister, you have no idea who you’re pointing that gun at,” Rip snarled.
“Oh I believe I do. Now let go of her arm, step back and walk into her room.”
“If you plan to shoot me in here they’ll hear the shot down stairs and come a runnin’. They’ll cut you down where you stand.”
“Thanks for the warnin’, now shut up and move across to the room.”
Ray shoved the barrel of the gun into his ribs to help him move along.
“Lay face down spread eagle on the bed.” Ray ordered.
Cussing under his breath Rip climbed face down onto the bed. Ray took some rawhide thongs that he happened to have hanging off his gun belt for emergencies.
He handed a couple to the girl, “Here, tie his hands and feet to the bed posts.”
“These are handy,” she said as she stretched out the rawhide.
&n
bsp; “When you’re on the trail nothin’ comes in handier than some strips of rawhide. Unfortunately for Mr. Rip here, I took a few out of my saddlebags earlier to tie down some supplies and tied the extras to my belt. Now, be sure and tie him tight.”
With Mr. Rip tied securely face down on the bed Ray placed a gag in his mouth. For added insurance and to buy them some extra time, Ray raised his gun striking him across the back of the head. He was out and hopefully for a long time.
“We need to go, now!” Ray grabbed the girl’s arm and pulled her into the empty hallway.
She turned and placed a “do not disturb” sign on the doorknob. With the smile of a girl who has found her life again they headed down the back staircase and into the night.
Revenge Requires Two Graves Page 8