Cherokee (22 page)

Hays said, looking at me, “Nearest big stand of pine is forty, maybe fifty miles away. Nearly to Houston, ain't it, Boss?”

I said, “We could ship the lumber in like Mister Stevens does.”

But Charlie was shaking his head. “No future in that. If you're already shipping lumber thirty miles, what's the point of shipping logs fifty miles? Just to make lumber?”

I said, “You do it.”

“Aaah,” he said. “But it doesn't cost me anything. This is a U.S. Government Cherokee Indian reservation, and the U.S. Government Department of Indian Affairs built that railroad.”

I said, a little troubled, “But you sell the lumber to the Indians, to the Cherokees.”

“No, I don't,” he said. “The Tribal Council sells the lumber to the tribe at whatever price they want. And they base that on what a man's needs are. I just cut the lumber for the Tribal Council. Don't charge them a cent. In return I get to sell what they don't use to whoever I want.”

“What if they use it all?”

“They don't and they wouldn't, and even if they did I'd just put on another shift and cut more. I been making lumber longer than they been used to nailing it up. I reckon I ought to be able to stay ahead.”

I said, “Well, I guess we won't go into the lumber business.”

Charlie said, “I bet I can ship you lumber from up here and beat the price you're paying right now.”

I said, “Well, that would be a nice trick.” But I was pleased at the idea of a continuing relationship with Charlie Stevens, even if it was just business.

He said, getting up, “Let's go on in the parlor, as Jane always called it, and let me look up the shipping charges and get out paper and pencil and see what can be done. I can make rail connections about five miles from here if I've got enough to ship.”

We got settled in the living room with some drinks—me and Hays having whiskey and Charlie taking brandy—and set in discussing the lumber business. After that we just had a good talk, not about anything in particular, but just letting the conversation wander as it would. Charlie had been around and done considerably more than just sawing lumber, and he was interesting to talk to.

The time passed, and I noticed that Hays was starting to nod off. It was either too much whiskey or too much hard traveling. I said, “I think I got a hired hand here is looking for a place to sleep.” I got out my watch. It wasn't quite nine o'clock.

Charlie raised his voice. “Washington!” he called.

When the Negro came Charlie just indicated Hays, who'd woke up some. Hays said, “What?”

I said, “Go on up to bed, Ray. I'm going to sit up and talk a while longer.”

Washington said to Hays, “Come along wid me. I show you de way to yo' bed.”

Hays went out yawning. I didn't figure he was going to have much trouble getting to sleep. I smiled and said, “Don't let him fool you. He ain't much in civilized society, but he's a steady hand to have by you if it comes to trouble.”

Charlie said, “That's worth a lot of table manners, ain't it?” He put his hand over his mouth and then laughed. “Jane never did get that out of me. Saying ain't.”

“I know what you mean. I'm married to a schoolteacher. Or she was. Now she's got her hands full with just the one.”

“You got a boy?”

“Yeah.” I grimaced. “Named after me. We call him J.D.” I looked away. “But at least he'll be certain about who his mother is.”

Charlie said, “I said I couldn't forgive Howard. I don't mean to be an example to you. They were confusing times. I can see that now. Washington has to cut my meat for me, but it didn't stop me from getting a wife like Jane. But I think if I'd been embittered about losing my arm I could never have won Jane. I'm saying don't turn bitter against Howard for the way he handled matters. If you do it will hurt you more than him.”

“Charlie, I ain't feeling so bitter as much as surprised, surprised Howard would carry this around with him all these years and surprised he'd want me to know now.”

“You know Howard was always a gambler.”

“Yes,” I said. “But a plunger more than a thinker. The kind that trusts to his luck.”

“Fate,” Charlie said. “Not luck. Howard always believed in fate. That's probably why he sent you up here. Hell, he knew I wasn't going to take that money. But he had to have a reason. He couldn't just say I want you to go up and see an old partner of mine in Oklahoma.”

“You're saying, then, that Howard left it to chance whether you told me or not?”

“That's my view,” Charlie said. “It was bothering him but he didn't want to make the decision. So he left it up to me. I chose to tell you because I figured you ought to know.”

“He had plenty of chances before.”

Charlie said, “A man's opinion and attitude changes as he gets older. He looks at matters differently. I can know that and you will too, someday. Though, from what I can judge, you seem to be a man who deals with the situation as it is rather than what he wishes it was. The word for that is being a realist. Maybe you got that from your birth mother. Maybe that's why she was willing to stay in that cabin and see Howard occasionally rather than be in the big house as the mistress.”

I just glanced over at him. “Well, at least I know a good deal more about myself. I reckon that makes the trip worthwhile.”

“What are you going to say to Howard?”

I shook my head. “I don't know.” Then on a thought I half smiled. “Maybe I won't tell him anything. Maybe I'll just say you wouldn't take the gold and we just come on home. Maybe he ain't the only one can hold back. I can see him right now squirming around and trying to find out if maybe we didn't talk about
anything
else.”

Charlie was smiling. “Yes, that would work on Howard. It might force him to tell you himself. I don't think he could stand it. Just say that I didn't have much at all to say about those years.”

I looked over at him. “And you don't know much about my mother Alice? You don't know if she didn't or couldn't have any more children after Norris?”

He shook his head. “That I'm in the dark about. Some women figure they owe the man a son. Once that's done they figure their work of that sort is over. That's a prevalent attitude among ladies of society. But I just don't know. That is something you'll have to ask Howard.”

“I may not feel like asking Howard the time of day. Right now I ain't sure he'd know.”

 

Next morning Charlie and I were sitting out on his front porch about ten o'clock, having a cup of coffee. The sun was out and, while it wasn't warm, it was pleasant and bright. Hays had gone downtown, claiming that riding in stock cars was taking a terrible toll on his wardrobe. Charlie and I had been down giving me a close-up look at a working sawmill. There had been a good deal more to it than I'd expected, and near enough noise to last me the rest of my life. Now we were just sitting, watching the town and surrounds, and talking about first one thing, then another.

About that time a boy came running up and handed Charlie what appeared to be a telegram. He looked it over and then handed it to me. He said, “That's for you.”

It was addressed to me, care of Charlie Stevens, Anadarko, Oklahoma. I opened it up. It was a short message and a simple one. It said:

 

BAD TROUBLE STOP COME QUICK STOP

 

It was signed BEN. I showed it to Charlie. I said, “I've got to go find Hays and get moving. We've got to get over to Chickasha and get a stock car and get the first train out. That's from Ben and that means it's serious.” I could feel my heart taking little jumps. “It means it's more than he can handle. And that means it's considerable.”

Charlie said, “Maybe it's just outside of his range. Maybe it's something only you can handle.”

I shook my head and pointed a finger at the word “trouble.” I said, “That means exactly what it says. And it don't mean the new haying machine is broke down or that Howard has had a heart attack. If it was something like the last he'd say exactly that. It means we got trouble. Either a fight or some new fever is sweeping through the cattle or he's shot someone. Anyway, I got to get moving.”

Charlie consulted his watch. He was wearing a coat with a vest, and he carried his big gold watch in his vest pocket. I always carried mine in my jeans pocket, where sometimes it galled me. Charlie said, “It's five after ten, and a three-hour ride to Chickasha if you ride your horses to the knees. So you've missed the one o'clock through there. Next train southbound stops at five-fifteen.” He snapped his watch shut. He said, “You go look for your friend and I'll go send a telegram to the TP&O in Chickasha to have you a stock car ready for that train. It'll get you to Fort Worth. How you want me to route you after that?”

“Through San Antonio if it can be done. That's the only way down to Blessing. But I might ought to look at those connections myself. See how tight they are. Just get us to Fort Worth.”

“Right.”

He took off one way and I went the other to hunt up Hays.

I was full of a feeling of hurry even though I couldn't go any faster than the train could get out of Chickasha and head itself for Fort Worth. But it was all part of the feeling of dread I'd had ever since Howard had forced me off on his errand. Of course I could see now that the trip had been as much for my benefit as his, but even knowing that now, I couldn't shake the feeling I should never have left. I could only hope, as I fretted and worried away the time, that the trouble didn't have anything to do with Nora or J.D. I felt pretty sure that it didn't, else Ben would have made some mention of it in his telegram. And the fact that it was from Ben was an indicator to me that it was more than likely rough trouble, gun trouble, shooting trouble. Otherwise, if it were family or business trouble, it would have been more likely for Norris to have sent the wire. I had to figure it didn't have anything to do with Howard, or if it did, that he was still conscious enough to give Ben, or Norris, the directions as to how to send the telegram since he was the only one who knew where I was.

We ate lunch about eleven-thirty. I'd wanted to start without it, but Charlie had quite sensibly pointed out that we were going to spend the same amount of time eating in a cafe in Chickasha as we were at his house and we might as well have a good lunch than a bad one in the middle of the afternoon. Margaret fixed us some fried pork chops and some mashed potatoes with pork gravy and some black-eyed peas. She came out while we were eating to tell us she'd fixed us up a big bunch of ham sandwiches and fried chicken and it was in a sack in the kitchen and not to forget it.

Washington said, “Sack ain't in de kitchen. Woman don't know nuthin'. 'At sack o' vittles is in yo' saddlebags whaeah it's 'spose to be. An' them hosses has got they saddles on an' they bridles in they moufs. Ain't pulled yo' girths 'cause at's a man's own bidness how tight he pulls his girt on his own hoss. But they be ready oth'wise. Saddle blankets is smoothed down. An' they be eatin' grain right now.”

I shook my head. “Washington, they ever don't treat you to your liking around here, you know where you can find a home.”

It was all I could do to hold myself still to have one final drink with Charlie Stevens. Ray had bolted his down and then gone on outside to see to the horses and bring them around to the front. I said, “Well, Charlie, I don't quite know what to say. Needless to point out this has been a mighty interesting visit. Takes a good bit to throw me off, but this done it.”

He said, “Don't be too hard on Howard, whatever you decide to do.”

I looked at him directly. “Why not?”

He shrugged. “In the end all you got are your folks and your friends. There's no profit in hurting either one of them.”

“What if they've hurt you?”

“Two hurts don't make a heal. Let it scar over.”

We walked out on the front porch. I said, “You sure you don't want that money?”

He laughed. “Not no, but hell, no.”

“Well, I don't have time to tend to it right now. Tell your friend the banker he can go ahead and use the gold.”

“He'll appreciate that. Some of these unenlightened savages around here, for some reason, still don't have a great deal of faith in the Great White Father in Washington. They like their money to clink in their pockets.”

“Just tell him I'll draft on it from home. Anyway, I've appreciated all you've told me, Charlie. Wish you'd come for a visit.”

“I don't know,” he said. “Last time it cost me an arm.” But his eyes were twinkling as he said it.

“I'll get you back whole,” I said.

Hays was coming around the corner with the horses. I started down the steps. I said, “Well, I better get to kicking.”

Charlie said, “Justa . . .”

I stopped and looked back. “What?”

He said, “What are you going to do about Ben? And Norris?”

I thought about it for a minute, and then I heaved a sigh. “That sonofabitch Howard laid that off on me too, didn't he?”

“Looks like it.”

“Would you tell them?”

He shrugged. “It's my good fortune I don't have to worry about it.”

“Goddammit,” I said. “Goddammit to hell.” I shook my head. “Well, it's something to think about.”

Charlie said, “You can make a good argument either way.”

“Yeah,” I said. I walked over to my horse, took the reins from Hays, and swung aboard. I raised my hand to Charlie. “Come see us. Maybe you can sell some lumber.”