by Pamela Morsi
"So the million-dollar drill sergeant in skirts is beginning to look good to you, Gerald?" Tom said to himself, snorting with self-disgust.
Tom reached the Pease camp tent, but he hesitated. It was dark and quiet inside. Cedarleg and Ma were both probably sleeping. Exhausted as he was, Tom knew that he was a long way from any rest. If he went in now, he'd toss and turn for another hour at least.
He decided that pacing was a better way to pass the time, and began thoughtfully to walk back and forth along the path in front of the tent.
He liked her. He had to admit that to himself. He actually liked her. She was smart. Not in the book sort of way, he concluded. But she was smart in the way that he was. Cessy was smart about people. Except, of course, about him. She was not at all smart about him. She'd fallen for Gerald like a sapling meeting a buzzsaw.
Yet she was different about that, too. She didn't hanker after Gerald's tales of Yale life and the finer things. She didn't seem impressed about Gerald's family or his social position. She didn't even seem to agree with some of Gerald's most strongly held beliefs about the importance of class structure in upholding the framework of civilization.
Cessy talked about real things. She talked about people's feelings and the way the world worked. She talked about the bright future she wanted, not just for herself and her family. The future she wanted for the folks that she knew, the folks in the oil fields. She talked about life in a way that self-involved Gerald could never understand. She deserved better than Gerald. Certainly she was a spoiled, rich woman with too much money and not enough good sense. But she deserved . . . she deserved . . . well, she deserved better than a deceitful fortune hunter.
"Son, is that you?"
Tom stopped pacing and turned to see Cedarleg emerge from the tent.
"I didn't mean to wake you," Tom said. "I was just not . . . not quite ready for sleep."
Cedarleg chuckled lightly. "That little gal sure keeps you stirred up. Don't you know a working man has got to get some sleep sometime?"
Tom shook his head. "I'll be awake and on the job come morning, don't you worry."
"Oh, I ain't worrying much about that," Cedarleg assured him. "I know you'll be there, but a tired man makes mistakes, and mistakes can be dangerous."
"You may be right," Tom told him. "But if a fellow can't sleep, he can't sleep."
"Oh, I know. It's been a while since I was courting that old gal inside there, but I remember it distinctly," he said. "That Ma'd kiss and cuddle 'til I was near crazy with wanting her. Then her old daddy would call out to her to get into the house. I'd wander home to stare at the ceiling all night and try not to think about the parts that ailed me."
Tom smiled at him. "With the kind of work I'm doing daytime and seeing Cessy at night, all my parts are ailing me."
Cedarleg laughed and clapped him on the back. "Well son, the work is something you'll get used to. And the other, well ... I suspect in the army you had some acquaintance of goodtime gals."
Tom folded his arms across his chest. "I met a couple," he admitted.
"Well, Mr. Calhoun's coming home on the train tomorrow evening. I'll be going over to meet with him at Queenie's Palace, the finest sporting place in Topknot."
Tom raised a curious eyebrow.
"You can come with me," Cedarleg told him. "I'll introduce you to Queenie and maybe she can set you up with one of her gals. Just to kindy take the edge off of things and get you a good night's sleep."
Tom nodded, but he was not thinking about Queenie or her gals. King Calhoun was returning tomorrow.
The awning striped surrey made slow and difficult passage through the narrow, uneven alleyways of the oil camp. Howard appeared unhappy and ill at ease in the primitive surroundings. Princess smiled and waved as she went calling out greetings to old friends that welcomed her.
Princess laughed and chatted with animation. She was so happy, so very happy, at last. She had waited all her life for that one man, that one man who could truly love her, and it had finally happened.
Discreetly she opened her alligator pocketbook and retrieved the card she carried inside it. Already it showed the wear of a hundred caresses and more than a few kisses. But once more Princess drew her fingers gently across the raised gold letters, GERALD TARKINGTON CRANE, BEDLINGTON, NEW JERSEY. It was all she could do not to shout her joy out to the world.
"I think this is it," she said as she directed Howard to the group of more spacious and better-constructed tents.
The sounds of the horses brought the "lady of the house" to the entrance, where she made an immediate declaration of delight.
"Princess! It's so good to see you. It's been an age."
Alighting from the vehicle, she was immediately wrapped in warm, loving arms.
"I've missed you, Ma," Princess told her. "I know how busy Cedarleg is on the rig, but you could come visit me."
"And I've been meaning to," Ma said. "I've really been meaning to. Cedarleg has brought a young feller home from the rig who's got no money nor no one and he's been staying with us. Tending for two men has kept me pretty busy."
"I certainly hope you're not letting some freeloader take advantage of you," Princess said.
"Don't you think I'm a little old to worry about fellahs takin' advantage?" Ma cackled at her own joke.
Princess shook her head. "You simply do not need to take on any more youngsters to raise," she pointed out.
Ma laughed. "Look who's talking. The little gal that finds employment for every sick or stuck or stray feller in the oil fields. And I hear you're wearing ruts in the road visiting out at that orphanage."
"I only try to help those that really deserve a chance," Princess insisted. "And I sure don't take anyone in and make them part of the family."
Ma's eyes widened. "Except maybe for Howard here."
They both looked up toward the driver who took his position much too seriously to join them in laughter, but nodded in agreement.
"I can return for you in an hour, Miss Calhoun," he said.
"That will be fine," Princess assured him. As he turned the team, she spoke to Ma once more. "I just don't want you to overwork yourself."
Ma laughed. "Oh, don't worry, this fellah is already grown and not long for this tent nohow. He's got him some little gal in Burford Corners that he goes to see every night. Love's done knocked him a blow straight to the head and that ringing in his ears is bound to be wedding bells."
Ma laughed again, enjoying the sound of that. "The ringing in his ears is bound to be wedding bells," she repeated.
Princess couldn't help but chuckle at the description.
"Come in, come in," Ma said. "I've got no coffee nor lemonade to offer you. But the springwater is cool and fine to drink. Remember that water in Gladys City?"
Princess wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Sulphur. It's awful living in a place where everybody and every living thing smells like rotten eggs."
Ma chuckled in agreement and held open the canvas door flap so that Princess could step inside. She looked around and nodded in undisguised approval.
"It looks great in here, Ma. I don't know how you do it. No matter where you are or what the place looks like, you always make it seem like home."
Ma made her way to the water bucket and dipped out two cups full. She set the cups upon a tray and served them at the table as if they were an elegant aperitif.
"This place seems like home because it is," she explained. "A woman can wait all her life for things to be different, for her circumstances to be better.
Then find out when she's old that her time was simply wasted in waiting. Home for me is wherever my man is. I ain't got no call for looking 'round and whining, 'That woman over there is living finer than me.' There's plenty that live finer. But they's a goodly number that would think my tight little dry tent a paradise on earth."
Princess smiled at her as she accepted the tin cup of cool water.
"I think it's the love here inside that keeps it so
tight and dry," she said.
Ma laughed. "Well, some of that, some of that indeed. But you keep a good place yourself," she said. "Just naturally organized and intent on your ways. I recall when you was no bigger than a minute and doing for your daddy like you was full grown."
"Those were good times," Princess admitted. "But I don't long for them. I wouldn't go back. I love my little house. I love planting flowers and being able to know that I'll be around when they come up to bloom. I love the feeling of putting down roots and stretching them out in the soil. And I love the school. It's clean, it's new, it's modern. I feel like we're really beginning to do important work there. When Daddy moves on, as he always does, I'll be staying here."
Ma nodded thoughtfully. "Well, honey, we wish you well and we'll surely miss you."
"You know I still want you to stay. I think it would be a wonderful job for Cedarleg. He's so good with the boys, and it's not nearly as dangerous as tool pushing."
Ma shook her head. "It's hard for him to quit the drilling rigs," she said. "Once getting oil out of the ground gets in your blood, well it's hard to let go of it. Even when you're getting a little too old and a little too crippled to do it anymore."
Princess patted her hand lovingly. "I want you to stay, but I do understand if you go. I will expect you to come and visit me from time to time."
"Of course we will," Ma assured her. "It can be a pretty lonely life for you, living all alone."
Princess's heart lifted and she felt a blush warm her cheeks. "I may not be alone," she said.
Ma nodded. "I heard that Muna is got her a man? Some foreign fellah her daddy done brought over," she said. "They going to settle down right here, you're thinking."
"Well, that would be wonderful," Princess admitted. "Although I can't say that I am really excited about her engagement. It's an arranged marriage."
Ma shook her head. "Them foreigners, they do that," she said. "But I've seen plenty of happy marriages among them."
"Well," Princess insisted. "It might be fine for people from other countries, but Muna has grown up here. She's an American woman. And she wants what every American woman wants, to marry the man of her own choosing. The man she loves."
"Did Muna tell you that?"
"No, of course not," Princess answered. "You know how she is with her parents. She would never go against their wishes."
"Then that is her choice, honey," Ma told her. "And you'd do well to stay out of it."
"But I can't bear to think of my dear Muna never knowing love," Princess lamented.
Ma waved away her tragic tone. "Love is all different kinds of things at all different times," she said. "We cain't never know what it is to someone else."
"I know what it is," Princess said quietly. "And it is the most wonderful feeling in the world. Nobody should ever have to live without it."
Ma raised an eyebrow and gave her a long look. "What's this?" she asked.
"I think ... no ... no, I am, I am in love, Ma."
"Land a-mercy and I'm just now hearing about it!" the older woman exclaimed. "Tell me, tell me. Who is this fellah and when do I get to meet him?"
"Oh Ma, he's . . . well he's every thing I ever dreamed about and nothing like I ever imagined."
"Where'd you meet him?"
"In my own backyard! He was at the Fourth of July picnic."
"Wouldn't you know it," Ma complained. "The first time I've missed that shindig in years and somebody interesting finally shows up."
Princess laughed. "I just saw him and, oh, Ma, I just knew, I just knew immediately that he was the one."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that. And he knew, too. It was, it was just so perfect, so wonderful."
"And he's wonderful?"
Princess nodded. "Yes, yes he is. I don't know how or why I even think so. The truth is the more I get to know him, the more I really wonder what we might ever have in common. But when we are together it just seems so right."
"Well, opposites can attract," Ma assured her. "Sometimes two very different kinds of people can make a pair that's much stronger together than two more alike persons could ever be."
"He's so very different from anyone I've ever known. He is far from ignorant. He's thoughtful and fair. Yet sometimes he says things that just seem positively wooden-headed."
Ma snorted good-naturedly. "I cain't imagine that you'd let him get away with that?"
Princess shook her head. "You know I can't. Daddy always says that my high opinion of my own opinions is my only vanity."
"So you tell him to his face that he's a woodenhead?"
"Pretty much. I openly disagree with him," she said.
"And how does he take it?"
"Very well," Princess answered. "In fact, almost too well. He doesn't take it personally at all. It's almost as if his opinions are not even his own."
"That is pretty curious."
"It is. It is curious," Princess agreed. "It's almost as if there is a shallowness to him. But somehow he is not shallow. Somehow there is depth to him and beneath that he's wonderful. I'm just sure of it."
Ma eyed her skeptically. "Well, tell me about him. I don't aim to let you take up with any old worthless roustabout."
"Oh you would definitely approve of him, Ma," Princess assured her. "And he's certainly no worthless roustabout. He's . . . well, he's . . . he's sort of a remittance man."
"A remittance man?"
Princess nodded. "His name is Gerald Crane and he's from back East. He's been raised in wealth and privilege. His family was in the publishing business back when Benjamin Franklin was their competitor."
"Land a-mercy, what's such a fellah doing here?"
"He came out West to join up with the Rough Riders, and he just stayed," Princess said.
"Rough Riders?" Ma looked thoughtful. "Tom was in the Rough Riders. Wonder if he knows this fellah?"
"Tom?"
"The young man that's staying here," she answered. "So what does this Gerald feller do now?"
"Well, honestly, Ma, I don't think that he does anything."
The older woman looked surprised.
"Everybody's got to do something."
Princess shook her head. "Rich people don't. If they don't need the money, well, they just take up some avocation like art or writing or some such."
"So what's this fellah's avocation?" she asked. "Topknot ain't the kind of place where a person might take up writing or art. He's got to have some reason for being here."
"Why, honestly, I don't think he has one, Ma," Princess admitted. "He seems to just be wandering the country meeting people and seeing new things."
Ma tutted with disapproval. "I don't like the sound of that, honey."
"He just needs a direction. He just needs a little nudge," Princess assured her. "A woman can give that to a man. You know she can. And I am certainly the kind of woman to do it."
Ma nodded. "A woman can give a little nudge," she agreed. "And she can also spend her whole life pushing against a stubborn wall that ain't about to be moved. What makes you think this fellah is for you? Apart from that he don't seem to mind your ways?"
"I . . . well, I just knew."
"This is your ol' Ma Pease, Princess," the woman said. "Tell me the truth of it."
She hesitated a moment, partly embarrassed, partly unsure. "Well, I saw him and I ... I just went all like jelly inside. Hot jelly, like just ready for the jars. He's . . . he's really handsome and I saw him and I thought, well, I guess I thought he would never notice me. But he did, Ma. He walked right over to me and wanted to talk to me and dance with me. Ma, he kissed me that very first night," she whispered.
Ma nodded sagely. "And a few times since then, I've no doubt. He's really handsome you say."
"Yes, he is handsome," Princess told her. "I was surprised at how handsome he was. I didn't expect . . . well, I didn't require that a man be quite so attractive to suit me."
"Good looks and money, too," Ma commented. "It's a mira
cle that some gal hadn't snagged onto him already."
"I know you don't believe in this, Ma, but I believe he and I were destined for each other."
"Oh, honey, when you're talking about men, don't ever even whisper the words fate or destiny," Ma scolded. "A woman can get herself into all kinds of trouble that way. You've got to make a choice with your head. Clear contemplation and far thinking will set a straighter course than relying on happenstance."
"But what about love?"
"People don't always love where they should."
"No, I don't guess they do," Princess agreed. "But they love wherever they can."
Ma laughed then. "So for all that you're given orders and directing your friends to and fro, when it comes to menfolk you're no smarter than the rest of us weak women," she said.
Princess shook her head.
"So where do you see this remittance man?" Ma asked.
"He comes to visit me every evening," Princess said.
Ma's brow furrowed. "With your daddy gone?"
"We stay on the porch," Princess assured her. "We just walk a little bit in the garden and then sit on the porch."
The older woman didn't appear pleased. "I don't suspect you're playing Parcheesi on that darkened porch," she said.
Princess blushed guiltily.
"How far has it gone?"
"We . . . well, we . . . Ma, I plan to marry him."
"Has he asked ye?"
"Well, no, not yet, but Ma I know—"
"Honey, I know a lot about men. And I'm telling you that even the best ones are up to no good every chance they get."
"Gerald's not like that, Ma," she said. "I'm sure he's not like that. We love each other."
"Maybe so, but it wouldn't hurt to check this fellah out. If he really cares for you, he'll want to meet your daddy and court you properly."
"Of course that's what he wants," Princess assured her. "Daddy has just been out of town. Now that he's back, I'm sure Gerald will commence calling upon me in a more traditional manner."
"Well, I hope so," Ma said. "And if this Gerald feller is what you want, then I pray that he's everything that you want him to be."