Date: Sun, 21 Oct 2007 23:30:23 -0700
From: Jon Hold <jonhold@earthlink.net>
Subject: Other Little House 33-End

Chapter 33
A Day in Town


Brent and I, leaving Sam to Oleg's tender mercies, headed over to Mr.
Mendoza's saddle shop. Mr. Mendoza got up from his work and came over to
greet us. He called for his son and gave me a huge hug. I was surprised,
but hugged him right back. He was a nice person and I both liked and
respected him. Jose came into the room and hugged both Brent and me. What
the heck happened to the painfully shy kid I'd met my last time in town?
This guy was radiant. Pleased to see us again and not reticent to show
it. Mr. Mendoza laughed at his son's exuberance, and proudly put his arm
around the boy's shoulder. Jose was very nearly as tall as his father.

Brent explained that he had a bunch of new hands coming to the ranch and
he needed to have chaps and whatever other leatherwork they needed made
for them and that he wanted Mr. Mendoza to come out to the ranch so
everyone didn't have to come to town. Mr. Mendoza looked both
uncomfortable and embarrassed. Jose stepped forward and explained his
father's discomfiture.

"My father owes you both a huge debt of gratitude. The story of the show
you put on to show off the tack my father made, and the salute you gave
him has traveled wide and far. My father has received many orders for
special saddles and other tack. Some from as far away as Kansas City. He
has many commitments and cannot properly take any time away from promises
he has already made."

"Hey. That's okay. I'm glad you guys are being kept so busy." Brent said.

Mr. Mendoza broke in. "What my son says is so. I have made many
commitments that I must keep. But what you want is chaps and maybe vests
or some repairs to saddles and such?"

"Yes." Brent said. "But we understand. We'll just send the guys into town
a couple at a time and they can stay at the hotel until you can work them
into your schedule."

"That will not be unnecessary." Mr. Mendoza said, confusing all of us.
"Everything you want is well within the abilities of a trained
Journeyman. My son is now qualified to be a Journeyman. And I would be
proud to have his first independent job be for two such fine men as
yourselves."

"Poppa?" the obviously confused Jose said.

"I have been waiting for a good time to tell you, my son. You have worked
hard and learned well. It is time you earned money of your own."

"Poppa!" Jose cried out, tears dripping from his eyes as he grabbed his
father and gave him a huge hug.

Mr. Mendoza tried to excuse his son's outburst but really couldn't be
heard over Brent and me applauding and clapping the both of them on the
back in congratulations. Arrangements were quickly made for Jose and all
the tools and materials he would need to accompany us back to the ranch.
Jose and I got so excited that we were sent out back to calm down. I
congratulated Jose and he was as proud and excited as a
just-turned-into-a-man boy could be, which was plenty. He told me how
indebted to me he felt. Sam had indeed turned out to be a good friend,
getting him involved with the other town kids and talking with him about
"stuff."

Brent came out back and told Jose his father wanted to see him. Jose
tried to thank Brent for being so kind and for accepting an untried
person such as himself.

"Nonsense!" Brent said. "I would be proud to accept any journeyman that
your father had trained. That you are his son only reassures me that he
knows that you are fully qualified."

Jose gave Brent a quick hug and ran inside to his father. I grinned at
Brent and he grinned back and put his arm around my shoulder and headed
me towards Papa Rand's mercantile store.

We walked into the Rand Mercantile laughing and joking with our arms
around each other. There was a young man sitting behind the counter. A
stranger! Brent let go and stepped in front of me. "Who are you and where
is Papa... uh... Mr. Rand!" he challenged.

The young guy looked up from the book he was reading and looked at Brent,
and me --- peeking out from behind his broad shoulder. A big grin spread
across his face. "Hi, brothers!" he almost laughed out. Then, turning his
head over his shoulder to the living quarters behind the curtain behind
him, "Grandpa! Brent and Jason are here!"

Papa came bustling out of the back room, wiping food off his mouth. A
quick look at the puzzled looks on our faces and then another quick look
at the impish grin on the young man's face and Papa  had the boy by the
ear, twisting just enough to get the kid off the stool and up on his
tip-toes. Papa led him, with no regard for the tender structure of the
human ear, around the counter and over in front of us. "Jason! My lovely
child. Won't you do a feeble old man a favor and take this young scamp
out back and beat some respect into his worthless self. His 'jokes' are
about to ruin my business!"

The boy was hanging on with both hands for all he was worth and dancing
on his toe tips, but still had a grin on his face. Brent and I looked at
each other and realized at the same moment just exactly where we'd seen
that same exact grin and glint in the eyes. The boy had exactly inherited
his grandfathers wicked sense of humor. We both burst out laughing.

"What!" Papa demanded in outrage.

That made Brent and I laugh all the harder, doubling over in glee. Mama
came out just then, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, saving her
grandsons ear, protecting Brent and I and calming down her husband ---
all at the same time and apparently without effort. She got us all in the
parlor and served cookies still hot from the oven with ice cold
buttermilk and poured fresh, scalding hot tea into Papa's glass. We were
made to tell everything we'd been up to since our last visit to town. We
got introduced to Aaron, Papa's grandson and Jacob, Aaron's father as
well as two of Arron's uncles, Issac and Uri. After much gossip and a
wonderful dinner, Brent and I told Papa what was going on and we talked
about everything we were going to need to set up the new facilities for
our new hands and that led to a discussion of Brent's business plans, his
improvement of the herds and his ideas on land management.

Arron mostly kept quiet and listened, but seemed like he was about ready
to explode, giving his father and grandfather any number of pointed
looks.

Papa Rand finally relented. "So? With all this, you're going to pay these
men and keep track of your herds and your costs and earnings --- what?
Out of a shoebox maybe?"

"Well, Papa," Brent said. "I think Jason can do a bit better than that,
but, then again, I think that maybe you have something else in mind. Care
to tell us what it is, or maybe you'd rather beat around the bush until
it's nice and dead?"

Everybody laughed at that. Everybody except Aaron, that is. Aaron looked
like he might pass out from holding his breath.

"Well," said Papa, loathe to just come right out and say what was on his
mind, "perhaps I have a grandson who is not impressed with his own
family's business's. Perhaps he'd rather be a cowboy and live in the wild
and risk his life with things no one in his family has had experience
with in eight hundred years. And perhaps his brothers could find a place
with him so that he would quit pestering his poor, weak old Grandpa half
to death."

"And perhaps his poor old grandfather will drive us all crazy!" Jacob
said. "Brent, Jason... what my father is trying so hard to not say is
that my son has a dream. Has spent his whole life, what little of it he
has lived, wanting to live on a ranch and be a part of that life. I would
ask you, as the son of a man you respect, to consider giving my son a
chance to realize his dream. He has been trained in languages, history,
accounting and bookkeeping and is a good, honest boy. You need not pay
him until he proves his worth, but I ask you to consider giving him a
chance."

Brent and I looked at each other and Brent nodded. I looked at Aaron. "Is
this what you want?"

Aaron went white and I thought his tightening grip might crush the arms
of the chair he was sitting in. He didn't even try to speak, he just
nodded 'Yes'.

Brent looked Aaron up and down, his skinny, small body --- and his
crippled leg. Then he looked at Jacob, sitting there with the calm of the
universe surrounding him, and finally at Papa. "Papa. Do you want this
thing?"

Papa looked at Brent, at me and then back at Brent. "That is for you and
Jason to decide."

"Papa! Is this what you want?"

Taking a deep breath --- and then sighing. "Yes, Brent. It would make my
old heart happy to know that the boy at least had a chance at his dream."

"Then it's settled." said Brent. " Are his clothes packed?"

Aaron leapt into the air, yelling in triumph. The chair he'd been sitting
in flew backwards into a glass doored cabinet, or, what HAD been a glass
doored cabinet before the chair got there.

"Oy!" his grandfather said, resting his head on his hand as if his head
was suddenly too heavy to hold up. "Three months he's been home --- he's
never Unpacked! Just asks me a dozen times a day, 'when are they coming
to town, Grandpa.' 'When are they going to be here, Grandpa?' 'Soon,
Grandpa?' OY! He's making me CRAZY!"

After much talk, and a certain amount of crying on Mama's part, it was
decided that Aaron would go back with Brent and I with the first load and
Papa would send his sons to help when everything we were going to need,
stove, cooking utensils, and large quantities of both dry and hard goods,
had been collected. The next four days were frantic, what with Oleg and
Sam getting ready to make all the nails and other iron needed for the new
buildings... and all the other details that had to be arranged. Sam and
Angel's marriage was to be in about three months, right after harvest. We
would all return to town for the wedding and a final decision on Aaron
working at the ranch would be made at that time.

It was quite a procession that left town. Me and Brent on Dancer and
Blackhawk, Aaron driving the mule team (Beau, in his perverse mule mind,
had decided that he LIKED Aaron --- who made a great point of wondering
why I had so much trouble with such a gentle and loving animal). Sam and
Oleg were in Oleg's wagon loaded with iron, portable forge and tools.
Jose, riding a small Mexican mustang his father had given him, leading a
mare mule loaded with enough leather and tools to make her walk funny was
smiling with eagerness. Angel rode with us part of the way and I lent
Dancer to Sam so he could ride with her and share a little private time
away from the rest of us. I sat next to Oleg and was musing about the
mans powerful body when, out of the blue, he asked me if I thought it
would be okay if he lent Sam to Brent so that Oleg and I could spend the
night together sometime... alone. I looked Oleg up and down and
remembered the butt pounding that he and his brother had given me and
told him that whatever Brent and Sam wanted to do was between them, but
that I'd love to spend the night in bed with him, or anywhere else he
wanted to take me. Oleg grinned and did a pretty fair imitation of a man
who had just found a $1,000 bill.

There was one other addition to our happy crew that I haven't mentioned
yet. We had dinner at Sing Hop's "Palace of the Jade Dragon" restaurant
one evening. Hop and his wife had turned the old building I'd bought them
into a truly beautiful restaurant with Chinese screens, lanterns and wall
hangings as well as the tasteful and effective use of much paint. They
had a dedicated clientele that was steadily growing as the town grew and
became more civilized. Two more nephews of Lee Po's, cousins of Sing Hop,
had shown up and were helping run the restaurant. Sing Ho acted as our
personal waiter and wouldn't let either of his larger cousins serve us.
Now eleven, Ho was a strong, chunky boy with a happy, outgoing manner and
an infectious sense of quietly understated humor (in a HEAVY Chinese
accent, "Oh, so sorry, Honorable Sam. We get you wider chair your butt
get so big.") Sam, Ho and Jose had taken to being friends and spending
whatever free time they had together. Ho, being smallest, pretty much did
what the bigger boys wanted to do, but had ways of making sure they
remembered that he had a mind of his own. In any case, he managed to
convince everyone that he should go along to make sure that the kitchen
for the new "men" was properly run. Somehow, I got the feeling that the
decision for Sing Ho to join our happy crew was made before anyone except
him knew anything about his plans.

Sing Ho was sitting on the other side of Oleg, proving that he could
drive Oleg's team of draft horses, no matter that he was small, smiling
like he didn't have a care in the world. Oleg was doing his best to sit
there all innocent like. As if the thick arm draped around Sing Ho's
shoulders was just there in friendship, and not to keep the team of huge
draft horses from jerking the small lad clean out of the wagon seat.

Sam was much subdued when Angel headed home and he returned Dancer to me.
I gave him a quick hug in commiseration, and then left him alone until he
wanted to talk later. It was a quiet, yet happy trip to the ranch. Each
of us in his own way looking forward to what life would bring.



Chapter 34
Spreading the Spread



Everyone approved of the high bluff in the bend of the river that had
been selected for the new ranch buildings. Excitement ran high as
supplies were unloaded and worksites set up. Comments and suggestions
about the size, placement and construction of the various buildings ran
rife with one idea after another bursting forth. There would be no lack
of energy on this project. As evening neared talk turned to dealing with
ravenous bellies. Sing Ho came out from behind a screen of huckleberry
bushes and told everyone to hurry up or he was going to throw dinner to
the dog. We quickly followed our diminutive chef and discovered a
clearing with several naturally fallen trees for seating, a large pot of
stew, several pans of wonderful smelling cornbread and a large mongrel
dog who was guarding the goodies. No one ever figured out where that dog
came from, but it was obvious from the first that he listened to Sing Ho
and no one else, and had a rather narrow view of how he expected Sing Ho
to be treated. As the dog outweighed Sing Ho by about thirty pounds, none
of us was willing to try him on his resolve to protect Sing Ho OR the
food. Sing Ho just told the dog to go lay down, and the dog promptly did
so, his vigilant eyes leaving no doubt in anyones mind about the
inadvisability of messing about with the mongrels new master.

Dinner disappeared quickly and the diners helped with clean-up before
pairing up and heading off to sleep. After a period of rustling in the
bushes and a certain amount of noisemaking, things quieted down and only
snores disturbed the placid peace of the evening and were observed by an
old mongrel dog laying next to the small Chinese boy he trusted.

Almost two weeks of hard labor  showed a remarkable change in the bluff
overhanging the river. Sing Ho's clearing now contained a well appointed
kitchen  that formed a short upright to the wide "T" of the dining room.
Solid shutters closed the eight-pane windows that marched in close
proximity down the long outside wall of the board floored dining area.
Trestle tables and benches provided seating for the hungry crews that
would come. The shutters could be lifted and propped open with notched
supports giving a panoramic view of the river, forest and miles of
uninterrupted prairie. It was not unknown for diners to get lost in the
view and forget what they were supposed to be doing with Sing Ho's
wonderful food. The young boy had a remarkable way of providing the
meat-and-potatoes sort of food the cowboys and hands were used to, but
managed to incorporate enough of the Chinese wisdom with herbs and spices
and vegetables that everyone was rapidly learning to accept a much wider
range of eatables than they had ever imagined possible. The results were
a healthier and happier work crew that eagerly looked forward to their
next "dining experience."

An old man, name of "Tobi" wandered into camp and deferentially asked if
he might have something to eat and, almost hopelessly, did they have any
work where a man might earn his keep. Obviously one of the unneeded
fringe members of the rough pioneer society, the old man would wander
until, for one reason or mishap or another, he would die. Without even
consulting Jason, Sing Ho hired the old man to help him in the kitchen.
After lunch the next day Sing Ho began defending his decision to Jason
and the other grown-ups. Jason cut him off in mid-explanation. As far as
Jason was concerned Sing Ho was in charge of the kitchen and if he wanted
a mangy old dog and a rickety old man to help him, that was his choice
and no one else's.

The brave eleven-year-old was having none of that and responded loudly to
Jason's teasing. He was soon joined by deep, deep bass barking and a
great show of dog fangs as well as much wooden spoon waving by the old
man. Everyone else was laughing fit-to-be-tied. But the old man and
mongrel dog stayed, and are buried right there behind the kitchen. Sing
Ho still waters the flowers on their graves every day.

As for the rest of us, we've gotten older, if not wiser. The ranch did
well through the depression and the wars and everything else. We've sort
of moved at our own pace, in our own reality most of the time. Boys on
their own heard about us one place or another and over the years a pretty
steady stream of kids has come to the ranch and ended up calling it home.
We've got teachers and classrooms, and some of our best teachers never go
near a classroom, preferring a branding corral or barnyard for the
lessons they have to teach.

There's a younger, smarter, better educated bunch running the ranch now,
and I hope it will go on forever. I sit here on the porch Brent built for
me, remembering, and talking into this recorder thing. Brent's grave is
right there in Dancer's pasture, where I can see it from the porch. I'm
the last of the old bunch, 'cept for Sing Ho, and we're sort of just
waiting to join our friends up there beyond the fleecy clouds that adorn
the wide green and blue and distant hazy gray beyond the other little
house on the prairie.



In Memorium,
Jason and Brent Bodiene-Robinson.
A truer love was never known on this wide prairie.