Prairie Fire

by Kayt C Peck

  I’m going to a ranch, she thought. A ranch, just like Dad and I dreamed back when we rode our horses together.

  aaAA

  Judy picked at the congealed gravy from what was left of her chicken fried steak and mash potatoes. True, the Cowboy Café substituted as the local bus station, but it was still known for the quality of its chicken fried steak. Judy barely tasted it as she chewed, her mind on other things.

  “My, that’s certainly appetizing,” Kathleen said from across the booth, her eyes on the mess Judy was making of the remains on her plate.

  Judy pushed the plate to the side, took a drink from her nearly empty iced tea glass, shaking a small chunk of ice into her mouth as she did so. She crunched nervously on the ice.

  “I’ve never seen you like this before,” Kathleen said.

  “Don’t ever think I’ve felt like this before,” Judy answered.

  “You weren’t even this nervous the first time we met.”

  “Well, this Pookie girl…she means a lot to you. What if she doesn’t like the ranch or me? I mean, Lordie, how many cowgirls do you know with a pierced eyebrow?”

  “And when we went up to Colorado Springs, you were the only one at the GSA meeting in cowboy boots, but you got along fine,” Kathleen countered.

  “Yeah, I reckon,” Judy said, still fidgeting in her seat.

  “Say it,” Kathleen said.

  “Say what?”

  “Say what else is on your mind.”

  Judy cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “What…what if I don’t like her?”

  Kathleen blushed. Judy’s pulse quickened as she saw the signs of anger.

  “Don’t you dare go all conservative on me,” Kathleen said. “You give Pookie half a chance, and you’ll love her as much as I do.”

  Judy fidgeted in her seat. “I guess I’ve just never really known someone who wore black lipstick before. I always managed to sidle away from them when I saw them at the bar in Amber.”

  “Before you met me?”

  “Of course before I met you.” Judy gave a smile that was more of a grimace than a smile. “Am I in trouble now?”

  “A little.”

  Judy reached across the table, grasping her lover’s hand. “Kathleen darlin’, I feel like I’m climbing onto a young colt for the first time. I just don’t know what’s going to happen, and I’m trying to think through all the possibilities so I’ll be ready.” Some of the tension went out of Kathleen’s face and Judy continued. “You got good taste in people…hell, you’re with me, aren’t you? I know I’ll love this girl, and she’s welcome in our home. I’m just hoping it’s not a bumpy ride getting where we need to go.”

  Kathleen laughed. “Since when do you mind a bumpy ride?”

  Judy grinned, relieved. “Since the last time I broke a colt. Just wait until Sally Doc Bar’s yearling is ready to saddle. You’ll see me fidget and sweat then.”

  Kathleen tilted her head, confused. “You did fine halter breaking. I loved watching that.”

  “Halter breaking is a contribution to training. Breaking to ride…that’s a full commitment. Once on top of a young horse, your life can depend on what happens next.”

  Kathleen picked up her paper napkin and tore little pieces into a pile by her water glass. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “You get yourself hurt, Judy Proctor, and I’ll have to hurt you some more.”

  Judy laughed. “I’ll do my best to avoid both those disasters.”

  The waitress/ticket agent looked out the window and spoke to Judy and Kathleen. “Your wait is over. The bus is here.”

  The two women exited the booth, and Judy stopped to pay their bill while Kathleen walked outside and stood at the curb where she knew the bus would stop. Her face radiated expectation as she awaited her young mentee.

  After the bus pulled to a stop, the air brakes gave a loud puff and the door opened for an excited Pookie, who was already standing at the door. The tiny young woman rushed to Kathleen and they hugged and laughed like the soul sisters they were, Kathleen actually picking the girl up off her feet. Judy stepped out of the café and watched, a slow smile easing the tension in her face. The bus driver removed one rolling duffle from the luggage compartment and Judy claimed it for Pookie while the girl and Kathleen hugged and jabbered.

  Kathleen set Pookie down and turned to Judy. “Pookie, you remember Judy, don’t you?”

  Pookie stood directly in front of Judy, and they looked each other up and down.

  “Sure,” Pookie said. “I really appreciate you letting me come here.”

  “You’re always welcome. Kathleen claims you as a daughter. That means our home is your home,” Judy responded, at the same time noticing the black nail polish and studded dog collar the girl wore.

  Punk kid, Judy thought.

  Redneck, Pookie thought.

  They both gave broad smiles, neither one totally convincing.

  Chapter Six

  Cow Pies

  The sun hovered halfway to the western horizon as they made the forty-minute drive from the Cowboy Café to the ranch. Pookie said little, her backpack holding her most precious items resting on the seat beside her. Even though she was as lithe as a pixie, the step rails on the side of Judy’s crew-cab pickup had been a helpful aid when the diminutive Pookie climbed inside. As she drove, Judy glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw the death-grip with which Pookie grasped the handle of the pack. The young woman sat quietly, apparently at ease, but Judy wasn’t convinced. The white of Pookie’s knuckles reminded her of the feigned nonchalance of rodeo cowboys climbing aboard a one-ton bull.

  “Wow!” Pookie said. “It’s sure flat around here.”

  Kathleen laughed. “Big change from the Rocky Mountains, kiddo.”

  “The cattle like it, and so do I,” Judy said, trying hard to keep a defensive edge out of her voice.

  Pookie sat silent for several minutes. “It’s…it’s like the ocean…it’s a grand beauty, but…it’s a little overwhelming.”

  Kathleen reached over the console and to the back seat. She squeezed Pookie’s knee briefly. “It’s going to be okay, Pook.”

  Judy massaged the steering wheel as she wrestled with conflicting emotions. “This country grows on you,” Judy said. “It’s back shade country, you know.”

  “Back shade country?” Pookie asked.

  “Yep. If a cowboy decides to rest, he has to sit in the shade of his own back.”

  Pookie gave a bubbly giggle. For the first time, Judy caught a glimpse of the capacity for happiness in this confusing stranger. Her attention was drawn away from Pookie and back to her driving as a dust devil approached across a pasture and toward the road. A mischievous compulsion made Judy speed-up, ensuring that the truck would be caught in the vortex of the whirlwind. For a moment, even in the heavy truck, there was a confusing sensation of being pulled and pushed in a hundred different directions at once and there was the staccato sound of sand and tumbleweeds hitting the truck.

  “Woo-hoo,” Pookie yelled. “Can we do that again?”

  Judy and Kathleen laughed.

  “Sorry, Pookie. Dust devils go where they want and when they want,” Judy said. “I can put in an order, but I don’t expect the wind gods will pay me no never mind.”

  Pookie’s grip on her backpack eased. “Thanks, Judy. That was awesome.”

  Kathleen reached across the armrest on the seat that separated her from her lover. Judy took one hand from the wheel and returned the grasp of Kathleen’s hand. There was the glisten of tears in Kathleen’s eyes when Judy glanced her direction.

  “Thank you.” Kathleen mouthed the words softly to her lover.

  aaAA

  “This is your room,” Kathleen said as she pushed open the wooden door to the guest room of the old ranch house.

  Pookie paused in the doorway, setting her backpack on the floor and focusing her full attention on the antique glass doorknob. She touched the metal and glass reverently,
as though she willed the object to tell its story.

  “How old is this place?” Pookie asked.

  “Which part?” Kathleen answered. “Judy’s great-grandfather first bought land from the Capitol Syndicate in the early 1900s.”

  “The Capitol Syndicate?”

  “This is XIT Ranch Country. When the new State of Texas needed a capital, they sold three million acres at one dollar an acre to a syndicate of buyers—Englishmen, I’ve heard—who, in exchange, built the capital building in Austin. They worked the XIT Ranch for some time and then sold it off piece by piece to people like Judy’s great-grandfather. Ask Judy. She can tell you more.”

  “You mean I’m living on a real, historic ranch?”

  Kathleen laughed. “You sure are.” She pushed open the door to Pookie’s room and pulled the rolling duffle behind her, speaking over her shoulder as she did. “The original house was just a half-dugout. Your room is part of the first real house her great-grandparents had built…geeze, I think Judy said 1909. Her grandparents and parents each built more onto the main house over the years.”

  Pookie’s mouth hung open. She looked around the gingerbread woodwork, still its dark-stained original color, where it adorned the liminal space between ceiling and wall. “Wow! Any ghosts?”

  “Of course,” Kathleen answered, “but the Proctors have always been good souls. I think you’ll be safe. You want me to help you unpack?”

  “Where did Judy go?” Pookie asked.

  “Did you notice the load of cattle feed in the back of the truck?”

  “No.”

  “Judy wanted to unload the feed and take care of the animals in the corrals before dark.”

  Pookie shifted from foot to foot, uncertain. “Can I help?”

  Kathleen motioned for Pookie to grab one end of the duffle. Between them, they lifted the heavy bag onto the bed. Kathleen paused, her head tilted to on side.

  “You know, that might be a really good idea. You can unpack later. Why don’t you go out to where the truck is parked by the boxcar where we store feed and ask if Judy wants help? I’ve got an article deadline this week. I wouldn’t mind a little time alone to work.” Kathleen glanced at her wristwatch. “Besides, it will be getting late by the time all the chores are done. I’ll start dinner.”

  As they walked back through the living room, Pookie paused to look at the painting of a prairie landscape hanging above the couch. It was of an older time, one long gone. A bull buffalo dominated the foreground, his head raised in challenge to the observer, and an inundating sea of his followers covered the gentle slope of rolling prairie behind him. Behind them, a cacophony of orange and yellow and red melded into a sunset with a scattering of clouds in the sky above.

  Pookie looked close, realizing it was an original. “Nice work. Who did it?”

  “Judy.”

  Pookie whirled toward Kathleen, her mouth hanging open in shock. “But…but she’s a red—” Pookie stopped herself and blushed.

  “A redneck?” Kathleen responded. Her face reflected amusement with a hint of aggravation. “Pookie Lugene Thompson, you have a lot to learn.”

  Pookie blushed. “I…I think I’ll go outside now.”

  In the few minutes she’d been in her new home, Pookie already realized that the front door off the living room was rarely used. She made her way through the kitchen and the mudroom to the back door where she and Kathleen had entered the house. As soon as she was outside, she could see the truck parked across the main yard. It was backed up to the open doors of a retired railroad boxcar, and Judy was working in the truck, throwing fifty pound sacks of cattle feed from the truck one-by-one into the boxcar. Judy paused in her work as she watched Pookie trotting her direction.

  “You already settled in?” Judy asked, taking a moment to wipe sweat from her face with the back of her work glove.

  “I wanted to help you,” Pookie answered.

  Judy looked at the young woman, obviously surprised. “This ain’t no walk in the park.”

  “Didn’t think it would be,” Pookie responded, a glint of defiance in her eyes.

  Judy laughed. “Well, climb up here, then. We’ll see how you do bringing the bags to the back of the truck, and I’ll stack ‘em inside. Would save me a lot of time.” She looked skeptically at the tiny woman. “These things weigh damn near as much as you.”

  Pookie had already scrambled into the boxcar and then onto the tailgate. “I’m small but I’m wiry. Played field hockey at school, you know.”

  Judy grinned devilishly at the girl. “And I’ll bet the other teams never forgot you.”

  “Not if I could help it.”

  Judy jumped off the tailgate and into the boxcar. “Just bring ‘em to me,” she said. “No need to carry the full weight. Just drag them to the back of the truck-bed so I can reach them without climbing up and down.

  Within moments, the two women had a routine. Judy used her legs as much as possible to lift bags end up, before bending and lifting them to her shoulder so she could carry them to one end of the boxcar where the existing supply of feed cake bags was nearly depleted. With surprising ease, Pookie quickly found her own pull-drag-drop routine; after a few minutes, she had to pause in her work to allow Judy to catch up. After she had pulled the last of the bags to the back of the truck, the wiry little woman hopped into the boxcar and waited for Judy to return for another bag. With no verbal discussion but only the agreement of eye contact, each woman took one end of a feed bag and walked together back to where it was to be stacked.

  “Nice job,” Judy said as they threw the last bag onto the stack. She caught Pookie’s right hand and turned it over to look at it closely. “We need to get you some gloves.”

  Pookie rubbed at the beginnings of a blister on her forefinger. “That would be nice.” She looked at Judy with excitement glinting in her eyes. “What’s next, boss?”

  Judy shook her head, looking puzzled. “Are you enjoying this?”

  “You bet. I’m working on a real, live ranch.”

  “That you are. That you are. Well, I need to feed the horses and the beef steer we’re raising in the pens.”

  “Can I help?”

  Judy looked at the rapidly declining angle of the sun. “Soon you can, but I’d have to teach you who gets what and the pecking order that keeps them from fighting while they eat. Don’t really have time before dark.”

  “I want to do something.”

  Judy thought for a moment and then reached for an odd, rectangular pitchfork hanging on the wall of the boxcar. She handed it to Pookie.

  “What’s this?” Pookie asked.

  “It’s a manure fork.”

  “A what?”

  “A tool for collecting cow pies and horse apples.”

  Pookie’s lip curled in distaste. “Pies and apples? I don’t think I want to eat at that kitchen.”

  Judy gave an honest and long belly laugh. “Pookie, I think you’ll do just fine.”

  “So you want me to clean shit?”

  “Yep, and don’t you go disparaging prairie coal.”

  “Prairie what?”

  “Come here.” Judy motioned for Pookie to follow her out of the boxcar and to look at the prairie before them. “How many trees you see?”

  “Ummm…you mean besides the ones in your yard?”

  “Yep.”

  “None.”

  “When people settled the prairie, what do you suppose they used to heat their homes and cook their food?”

  Pookie looked puzzled. “I never thought about that before. What did they use?”

  “Prairie coal…buffalo chips and cow pies mainly.”

  “You mean they burned manure?”

  “They sure did. There was a time when cattle supplied most of the area’s heating fuel as well as beef for the nation.”

  “You’re shitting me?”

  Judy hesitated before she answered. “Considering the subject, there’s no good answer to that, but I’m telling you the truth. It
really wasn’t until butane and later propane—well, to some extent electricity—came to the area that there really was an alternative for heating and cooking other than manure; burns hot, fast, and clean.”

  Judy proceed to pontificate some more on the benefits of manure, or, as Kathleen would comment later as she heard the tale, Judy continued to bullshit about bullshit. Maybe it was half a joke as the country woman initiated a city girl, but Pookie listened with rapt attention. The conversation ended abruptly as Judy remembered she still needed to feed before dark. She showed Pookie where the wheelbarrow rested and guided her to a pen empty of animals but well supplied with manure, and she left the girl to work.

  Feeding was rushed, but there was still a subdued glow of the end of day when Judy finished. Pookie was just dumping another load of manure as Judy walked to her.

  “Good work, young lady. It’s time for dinner.”

  “I want to do a little more.”

  “You what?”

  Pookie looked at Judy, almost pleadingly. “Just a little more, please.”

  “Well, okay. I’ll go in and help Kathleen get the meal. Don’t stay long.”

  Judy pulled off her ball cap and scratched her head, mystified before turning to walk toward the house. As she pulled off her boots in the mudroom, Kathleen approached her lover as she wiped her hands dry on a tea towel. They kissed the brief greeting of comfortable and companionable lovers.

  “How’d it go?” Kathleen asked.

  “That little girl can work.”

  “Little ball of fire, isn’t she? She’d always get ten times more done than the other kids when we set up for Gay Pride.” Kathleen looked at the back door, waiting for it to open. “Where is she?”

  “She wanted to do some more work.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Shoveling shit!”

  “What? Judy Proctor, if you’re trying to initiate that child…”

  “Now hold on. I’ll admit I was funning a little bit about the importance of cow manure, but before I was done, we both believed it, her a little more than me. She’s out there working like she’s on a mission.”