The Pot Thief Who Studied Billy the Kid (20 page)

“Since you can’t drive, I thought I better bring you some nourishment.”

“You’re a life saver.
I don’t have any food in the house
except for some leftover
Iris
h
casserole.”

“From Miss Gladys, no doubt.
I bet it
has
corned beef. I like corned beef.”

“I don’t. But the worst part
is
the pumpernickel.”

“What soup
is
in it?”

“Cream of celery.”

“That doesn’t make much sense.”

“The entire casserole ma
kes
no sense. It ha
s
ranch dressing.”

“I like that, too.”

“Well, at least I’m having a great breakfast thanks to you.”

“You’ve got to get a car.”

“I can’t afford a car right now.
Besides, I may get one free.”

”
How so?”

“Susannah and I have a wager going. If I lose, I get her car.”

“And if you win?”

“The
n
she has to keep it.”

He laughed and asked me what
t
he wager
was
.

“I used the remote you rigged up for my winch to lower myself into a cliff dwelling to look for pots.”

“I figured you wanted it for
something like that
.”

“I didn’t find any pots. What I found was a human hand. I assume it was connected to an entire human body, but I can’t be sure of that because I immediately covered it back up.”

He frowned. “Cliff dwellers didn’t bury their dead where they lived.”

“That’s why I’m going back. Susannah thinks the body is a modern person
.
I think it’s an ancient person
. I’m going to unearth the han
d again to see which it is. That’s what the wager is.”

He stared at me in disbelief. “You’re going to dig up the body again just to settle a bet?”

“No
, no
. You know how I feel about digging in graves. I
’m not going back to settle a wager. I’m going back because if it’s a modern person, I need to report it to the police.”

“Why not just report it to the pol
ice and let them do the digging?
”

That inopan>was my original plan. Now I was trying to remember why I had changed it.

Tristan saved me the effort. “Wait, I know. If you report it, you’ll get in trouble for the digging.”

“Right. But if it’s an ancient mummy, then I won’t have to report it, but at least my conscience will be clear.”

“And if Susannah is right?”

“Then I’ll report it and throw myself on the mercy of the court.”

“That’s wh
at I thought you’
d say. But I have a better idea. You’re more squeamish than I am. You’re also afraid of heights. And you’re handicapped with that cast. I’ll go down and check the hand for you.”

I love that kid.

“I can’t let you do that.”

“Sure you can.” He gave me one of those bi
g
dopey smiles of his. “If it will make you feel better about it, we can call it an exchange.
I’v
e
saved enough this summer to
p
ay half my tuition.
You pay
the other
half
,
and I do a chore for you.”

“It’s not a chore,” I said. “
And it’s illegal.
I’ll pay half your tuition anyway.
How much is it?”

“Thirty two hundred this semester.”

“Wasn’t it twenty nine last semester?”

“Tuition goes up every semester.”

“The university
hasn’t heard about the
recessi
on
?”

“Universities are recession-proof, Uncle Hubert. Tuition at public universities across the country has risen
more than 65% over the past decade
while
medi
an family income has risen only
5 percent.
”

I remembered reading a similar statistic about healthcare. At the rate those two are inflating, all our income will eventually go
to
improving our minds and repairing our bodies. There won’t be anyth
ing left for groceries or rent.

Or buying pots.

“When I was a student, tuition was five hundred dollar
s
a year.
“

“Yeah, and gas was a dollar a gallon. Hey, I can get a student loan.
”

“I don’t want you to do that. It’s c
razy to graduate and have to use most of the income from your first job to pay off loans.”

“I’ll have to pay you back
just like paying back a bank
.”

“We’ll discuss that when the time comes. I’m more flexible than a bank.
I’ll have the money for you n
ext week.”

I di
dn’t know where I would get
it
.

“When we were at your dentist’s office,” he said, “you told me you had a date with that hygienist.”

“Sharice.”

“
Yeah, how did it go?
”

“Great. She came to my place because it was easier than going out with this cast.”

“And who would date a cast any
w
ay?”

“Oh, no. You’re beginning to make my kind of jokes. I enjoyed the evening, and I think she did, too. She’s invited me to her place this coming Saturday.”

“
Excellent.”

I asked him
how much the maps cost so I could
reimburse
him.

“Thirty
two
cents.”

“Funny. How much were they really?”

“I’m not joking. They’
re free from the U
. S. Geological Survey online. The only expense is the paper and ink to print them off.
It costs m
e eight cents a page to print the four adjacent maps you asked for. It would have been more if I printed them in color. You didn’t need them in color did you?”

I thought about it then said
with a sm
ile
,
“
No, b
lack and white is
good.”

21

Tristan took the Irish casserole. He thanked me for giving it to him
,
and I thanked him for taking it.

Susannah
had to work
the lunch shift at
La Placita
so I had a few hours to kill before we departed.

I
wanted
to read to get my mind of
f
the upcoming task, but I’d had
enough of Lew Wallace
.
Ben-Hur
and
The Wooing of Malkatoon
were both due back to the library. I had enough time to return the boo
ks and check out some new ones.

It wasn’t until I stood up that I remembered the pottery on my foot.

Tristan was right. I needed a car.

The bong sounded, and I l
ooked up to see Dolly Madison Aguirre entering my shop.

She wore a broomstick skirt in a red bandana print
and a fitted
white blouse
that showed off her ample breasts
. Her dark hair was in a bob, and her skin was as lustrous and smooth as I remembered.

I came out from behind the counter and said “Hi” because a simple greeting seemed the best way to brush aside the unpleasantness of our last meeting.

“
Hi, Hubie. What happened to y
our foot?”

“I sprained my ankle. No big deal. How are you?”

When she opened her mouth to speak, her chin trembled slightly. She closed her mouth, swallowed hard then said, “M
y
father passed away
.”

“Oh, Dolly,” I said and hobbled towards her. We hugged while she continued to sob.

When that passe
d
she moved out of my arms.

“Let’s have coffee
,” I said
.
“
I have some New Mexico Piñon brewed.”

“That would be nice.”

When the coffee was poured and we were seated at my table, I asked her when her father had died.

“
A little over
two weeks ago. I knew you would want to know. I called you several times. Then I came by two days in a row both during the day and at night. I guess you were out of town.”

I was out of town all right. The first night sleeping in a cliff dwelling with a dog and a coyote and the next
night
out in the open with the same two companions.

“The funeral was the day after my second visit. Then I came back to tell you about a memorial service at the school, but you were gone then too.”

Making a round trip to the I
n
chaustigui ranch to get a truck to go back to the place where I was digging up a dead guy when I should have been
paying last respects to a man I liked and admired.

I was feeling lower than a g
opher
in a gulch.

“I’m sorry I missed the funeral and the memorial service. And even sorrier I wasn’t here for you. I remember how I felt when my father died.”

“I still can’t believe he’s gone. Even though we knew he was dying, it still came as a shock. I guess nothing can prepare you for the reality of it. The finality of it.”

I put my hand on the table. She squeezed it.