“Wait, don’t tell me!” interjected Drew. “His name was Look Out For Number One, right?” he asked with a lopsided grin.
Ron looked surprised, then congratulated Drew. “Hey, that’s pretty good. I can see where you might think that, and you were close, but...No, the son was called “What’s In It For Me?” he said matter of factly.
Drew hung his head abruptly in defeat and Sarah laughed.
“The I Got Mines were a stubborn lot, and that helped them survive, but they weren’t too smart and they kept to themselves. This stopped them from learning what Mr. Win Win discovered from talking to people.
While Mr. Win Win was thinking over his problems with the I Got Mines, he went into town for some supplies. There were some good people in town, like the blacksmith and the mercantile owner, and it always cheered him up to talk with them. This time, when he went to see the shopkeeper, he noticed a pile of fence posts stacked around the side of the building and he asked the price. The shop keeper unexpectedly launched into a story about a kind of tree that grew there abouts. He said the Osage Indians made their bows out of the wood from this tree, which is why French explorers named it bois d’arc, meaning “wood of the bow”. The wood had other uses, as well, being particularly hard and resistant to rot, but flexible when it was still green. Wagon builders liked it for making high mileage wheel rims and others used it for fence posts, railroad ties, mine timbers, and more.”
“What does this have to do with horse apples?” Jake interrupted impatiently.
“I’m getting to that. The shopkeeper also told him about a man named Captain Boggess. Supposedly, this Captain Boggess was attacked by Indians somewhere between Red River station and Saint Jo, and he hid behind the door of a cabin. The door stopped bullets that were meant for him, and he survived...The door was made of bois d’arc wood.
Mr. Win Win found the information very interesting, but wasn’t sure if it would do him any good. He asked more questions of the shopkeeper, and found out that bois d’arc trees liked to grow along creeks. He learned what the trees and their fruit looked like, and thought about the trees growing along his own creek. He’d seen the big horse apples before, but didn’t think much of them. They weren’t fit for humans to eat, although cows would eat the fruit and sometimes the leaves of the tree. Squirrels and such liked the seeds inside, but that didn’t do Mr. Win Win any good. But maybe there was a use for them after all.
Mr. Win Win kept digging for information and the shopkeeper told him that people up north were buying bois d’arc seeds to grow wood for fencing. There was no such thing as barbed wire at the time, and boards were expensive. The bois d’arc grew fast and could actually be woven to make a fence even chickens couldn’t get through.
Mr. Win Win left town and rode slowly toward home, thinking all the while about bois d’arc trees and their strange fruit. He was slumped in the saddle staring absently between his horse’s ears, when he suddenly sat bolt upright. Wheeling his horse around, he headed back to town at a trot. He needed to send off a couple of telegrams.”
No one interrupted, and Ron continued. “A week or two later, Mr. Win Win rode back up the hill to talk to Mr. I Got Mine. In his saddlebags, he carried a small horse apple and in his shirt pocket, a telegram. He found What’s In It For Me and his father digging the sluiceway deeper, the water not yet diverted. They glanced up as Mr. Win Win came into view and did not look the least bit friendly, although they didn’t go so far as to reach for their guns. They were silent as Mr. Win Win rode up to them.
He dismounted, greeting them by saying “I have something I think will interest you.” He pulled the bois d’arc seed pod out of his saddlebag and held it up for them to see.
“I’m supposed to be interested in a dang horse apple, Win Win? Mr. I Got Mine sneered. I got enough of my own just down the creek a ways. You pull some gold out of that bag and then you’ll get my attention.”
Undeterred, Mr. Win Win said “You’re right, it’s a horse apple. Have you ever seen what’s inside?” He glanced around, then hefted a pick axe that was resting in the ditch. He sliced the pod in two and showed it to the others. “These are bois d’arc seeds. Take a look at this.”
He handed the telegram to Mr. I Got Mine, who passed it to his son. What’s In It For Me started reading it, finally saying “Pa, it’s from some gent in Kansas offering to buy up as many of them seeds as people will sell. He says he’ll pay...I don’t believe it!” he exclaimed. “Why would anyone in their right mind pay that amount of money for horse apple seeds?” He thrust the paper back at Mr. Win Win, who took it, carefully folding it and putting it back in his shirt pocket.
“Believe it. People need fences and they need them fast. These seeds will do it for them.” He paused. “The trees grow on my place, too. I intend to harvest the seeds and sell them to this fella,” he tapped his pocket, “and make more money than I’d get in 5 years running cattle.” He looked down at the sluiceway, then back up at the I Got Mines. “If you go ahead with your plans to divert the creek, you’ll take the water away from the trees, yours and mine both.” He let that sink in. “And then nobody wins.”
Ron stopped talking and looked over at Jake. “What do you think happened?” he asked.
Jake grimaced. “Obviously, I Got Mine was smart enough to realize he’d get more from the seeds than raising geese or whatever. What I’m wondering about is where the other son and his friend come in, the troublemaker guys.”
“Uh huh,” Ron said. “You’re right, the I Got Mines got wise and didn’t divert the creek. While all this was going on, Do Nothing and Sit On It were busy doing nothing, but thinking about how Mr. Win Win hadn’t treated them right, hadn’t offered to give Do Nothing even a share of the creek rights, and how the world in general owed them. Before they got into too much mischief, Mr. Win Win approached them and did something they least expected. He offered them a job collecting horse apples. Do Nothing was sitting on a bale of straw at the time, and he almost fell off, he laughed so hard. “Collect horse apples?” he echoed in disbelief. “You been touched by the sun, old man?”
Mr. Win Win then gave the two of them a choice: do the work or don’t bother coming around again.” Ron shook his head. “Not surprisingly, they chose to leave, after a lot of grumbling, threats, and other unpleasantness. Mr. Win Win thought he got off easy; he’d figured they’d try to take revenge on him somehow. Then he learned that the day after they left, there’d been a fella in town talking about a new gold strike in California. He said he heard tell that gold was just lying on the ground, waiting to be picked up, and people were getting rich overnight. Mr. Win Win heard that Do Nothing and Sit On It left town shortly after that, headed west.”
Ron took off his ball cap, ran a hand through his hair, and pulled it back on again.
“That’s it?” questioned Sarah. “That’s the end of the story?”
“Well, that’s how Mr. Win Win won, as far as the creek goes. There are a lot more stories about things that happened around here, but I figure it’s time to head back. The horses need water and you all may want to take a swim or something to cool down.”
Drew thought swimming was a fine idea, hoping Dara would be in the pool. He got up and reached a hand down to pull Sarah up. She took it with a word of thanks, and they headed for the horses. Jake got up and followed, not smiling, but not scowling, either.
Chapter 13
What do you want?
Toby and Dara lay side by side on the warm cement by the pool’s edge. Toby’s slight body was drinking in the warmth and had almost stopped shivering. He raised his head and looked over at Dara, one eye squinted against the bright sun. “Dragons or unicorns?” he demanded.
An unlikely pair, they had been drawn together by a chance comment over breakfast. Dara had been spreading the very thinnest layer of butter across her pancake, when she heard the boy next to her state emphatically, “Gandalf and Dumbledore could be the same person! Look at them! Both ancient wizards, the most p
owerful or nearly the most powerful of their time, both...”
“Look, kid,” a bored voice announced on the other side of the boy, “what they have in common is that they’re both fictional characters. Get a life.” The second voice belonged to a boy who was all of about 15, Dara noted, not liking his rudeness one bit.
“Actually, he has a point,” she chimed in. She smiled at the small, dark haired boy seated beside her. “I’m sure he knows the characters aren’t real, but that doesn’t make what he said any less true.”
Toby gaped at her for a moment, then nodded his head vigorously. The older boy gave a snort of disgust and rose from the table. “Yeah, well, I’d rather talk about stuff that’s real and that matters, like cars and...and...football.”
Dara and Toby looked at each other, each raising a skeptical eyebrow, and then both turned toward the other boy. He merely shook his head and ambled off to the kitchen.
“To each his own,” muttered Toby. He glanced shyly up at Dara. “Thanks for sticking up for me.”
“Well, you were right. There are some similarities between the two, and I never even thought of it before,” responded Dara.
“You like science fiction? Fantasy?” exclaimed Toby, thinking this was too good to be true.
She smiled dazzlingly at him, causing the breath to hitch in the back of his throat “I’ve got Brisingr back at my cabin. I’ve been saving it for a long time. Have you read it yet?” she asked.
“Twice,” Toby grinned.
There ensued a very involved, convoluted, and passionate debate about various fantasy books and movies, after which two things were apparent. While Dara was three years older than Toby, she did not look upon him as the annoying little brother-type about which her friends complained; instead, she was happy to have found a kindred spirit. Secondly, it was agreed that while Lord of the Rings was weightier, the Harry Potter books had just the right combination of magic, wonder, humor, and good vs. evil.
Dara and Toby had intended to go to the class called Real World Magic, but they found out it wasn’t being held until the next day. They planned to attend Dream Working instead, but Dara couldn’t go until the afternoon session. She had to swim. Toby decided to keep her company, and while she swam laps, he spent most of the time tossing a small Spiderman figure into the deep end and then diving down to get it.
She hadn’t answered and he repeated his question, “Dragons or unicorns?”
Dara sighed heavily. “That’s a hard one. I mean, unicorns are sooo beautiful, but dragons are, too, in a different way. Well, of course they’re different, but dragons are beautiful in a dangerous way and unicorns are...just beautiful.” She sighed again. “I’m not making any sense. I guess my answer is that I like them both, for different reasons. I don’t really have a favorite, but I...” She trailed off and her cheeks suddenly flushed a pale red. Toby turned his head to see what had caught her attention and saw Drew entering through the gate, a towel tossed over his shoulder.
Dara put her head down quickly on her crossed arms. She heard footsteps drawing nearer.
“Hey, you guys. How’s the water?” Drew asked.
“Fine,” Toby said curtly, a small frown wrinkling his brow, one of the few places on his body that wasn’t already pruned from the water. He figured Dara would ignore him now that Drew was around. He kind of understood, but not really.
Cautiously lifting her head, Dara glanced up at Drew to see him smiling down at her in a way that brought the color to her cheeks again. She swallowed before managing to say, “It’s good. Great, actually. Just the right temperature...” Oh, great, she thought, just keep babbling, I’m sure he’ll be impressed. Dara’s Rules: Think before you talk. She gestured to Toby. “Do you know Toby?” she asked, smiling slightly at the younger boy as she spoke.
Toby look surprised. “Sure,” Drew said. “We met at the fire last night. I saw you try to teach Corinne how not to burn a marshmallow. I gave it a shot, too, but I think it’s hopeless.”
“Did you see how many of her burned ones Ron ate?” Toby responded. “I would have spewed, for sure!”
Drew laughed. “I know. I would have been sick eating half that many. Well, I’m going to cool off.” He threw his towel down and dove into the water without another word.
When he surfaced, Dara had thought of something to say to him that she felt didn’t sound too stupid. “Did you go to that Get Real thing this morning?” she ventured tentatively. Dara felt she needed practice talking to guys her own age, and since it seemed so hard for her (especially with cute ones!), she was determined to start practicing now.
Unfortunately, Drew had gone back under again. She sighed heavily. Now she’d have to try again. Maybe it would be better to wait until he got out of the pool, she thought. No, no sense putting it off. Dara looked over and noticed he had come up again and was halfway down the pool doing a really quite impressive fly. She forgot her planned question and blurted out “I didn’t know you could swim like that!”
Drew had turned and pushed off on his back, coasting up the pool. He still hadn’t heard her, but he heard something. He flipped over and swam to her side. “Did you say something to me?” he asked, hooking an arm over the edge of the pool.
“Yeah, that was a good fly you were doing! Do you compete?” she asked, forgetting her shyness.
“No, but I used to, when I was little, like 10 or so.” He glanced at Toby. “Oh, sorry, Toby. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“That’s OK,” Toby grinned. “It’s hard to imagine you were ever little,” he replied.
Drew laughed and so did Dara. “Well, when I was little-er, then. Actually, I don’t really like competing in sports. I’d rather draw or paint, or take a hike somewhere.”
“You can draw?” Dara commented wistfully. “That is such a cool talent to have.”
“I love it,” he confirmed, looking inward for a moment. “What do you two like to do?” he asked. “I mean, besides swim, Dara.”
Dara looked at Toby first. Toby thought about it and then said “I really like science fiction and magic and stuff...but that’s not really doing anything. I don’t know.” He glanced back at Dara, and shrugged.
“Well, what are you good at?” she asked.
Toby was looking down, working Spiderman’s wrist joint back and forth, although no web was forthcoming. He looked up again after a moment. “I’m good in school...and I’m good at figuring out how things work, but I don’t have a talent, not like drawing or swimming fast.” He shrugged again.
“Maybe you just haven’t found it yet,” Drew suggested.
Dara nodded. When no one said anything more, she offered, “I do like to swim, of course...and my parents really like watching me compete.” She reached over and gently removed Spiderman from Toby’s hand. Lifting his arms up over his head, she pretended he was flying like Superman. “I like fantasy, too. In fact, I...” Horrified, she realized she had almost told them about her stories. No one knew about them. “But that’s not doing anything, either,” she finished.
“Yeah, just swimming in the Olympics. What a slacker!” Drew teased.
That got a crooked smile from Dara and a laugh from Toby.
“I’m going to swim some more before lunch. You two coming in?” Drew invited.
Toby and Dara both shook their heads, having just warmed up after a long stretch in the water. Drew kicked off and executed a fast and truly beautiful crawl back up the pool, knowing he was showing off and unable to stop himself. He shook his head mentally at himself and then just enjoyed the rhythm of his stroke and the feel of gliding through the water. I do love swimming, he thought, just not competing. Unless it’s an art competition. Then I’ll work my butt off coming up with something really good. He smiled as he swam, which interfered with his breaths, but he didn’t care.
After lunch, Dara met Toby outside the covered patio on the south side of the building. There were 4 tables set up under the shelter, with supplies grouped in the middle of
each table. There was sculpting clay, paper, rectangles of cardboard, magazines, paints and brushes, glasses of water, scissors, glue sticks, crayons, and more. Dara spotted Drew already seated at the second table; she was going to head for the first table when he lifted his head, grinned, and motioned her over. She and Toby headed his way and sat down on the bench to his right. Both peered over at the paper he’d been working on with a blue crayon. Toby smiled with delight as he recognized he and Dara lying beside the pool. Even in crayon, Drew had captured the lines of Toby’s skinny frame, hunched to get some warmth back into his body, while Dara looked relaxed and graceful, her head resting on her arm, one cerulean blue eye showing partially through sunglow hair.
“Oh, you’re so good at that!” she breathed.
“Thank you,” Drew said simply, tucking the blue crayon back in the box. Toby didn’t take his eyes off the picture, Drew noticed. “Would you like to keep this?” he asked Toby, who raised glowing eyes to his face.
“Absolutely,” he nodded enthusiastically, reaching for the paper.
Drew handed it over as Shelley walked in from the other side of the patio. There were a dozen kids scattered around the tables, and just before Shelley spoke, another boy joined the table with Drew, Dara, and Toby. He dipped his head at them all and turned to listen to Shelley. Dara just had time to take in his sun bleached hair and lean frame before Shelley began.
“Welcome to Dream Working. This is the class I told you about that requires a little bit of artwork. You’ll notice I didn’t say skill, because I’m able to do it and I have none...skill at art, that is. The purpose of this class is to give you a chance to take a look at what you like to do, what you’d like to see happen, what you want in life. If that sounds like a lot to think about at your age, know that it can be something as simple as a thing you’ve always wanted, like an IPod or a new skateboard. It might be a place you want to visit, such as Australia or Alaska. Or you might think of something you’ve always dreamed of doing, like competing in the Olympics...” She smiled briefly at Dara. “climbing Kilimanjaro or shooting the rapids down the Grand Canyon. Some of you might choose to envision what you want to be when you are adults...a surgeon? A wildlife photographer?” She gazed around the tables at them. “Think about what makes you happy, or what you want. Anything you choose.”