Follow The Stone

  I looked at Gentry’s face in the fire light. “You told ’em?”

  “There was no use denyin’ it,” she said.

  “In case you care, I won the bet,” Mary said.

  “Shut up, Mary!” Gentry snapped. To me, she said, “I’m sorry, Emmett. I was proud, is all.”

  “No harm done,” I said. “So, what was the winnin’ number?”

  “Seven fingers,” Mary said.

  I frowned. “That don’t seem like a lot.”

  Mary laughed. “It ain’t.”

  “Who guessed the highest?” I said.

  “Gentry guessed ten,” Scarlett said, laughin’.

  “Wait. There are seven of you. You mean someone picked four?”

  “Emma only used her left hand,” Mary said.

  The women guffawed and spent the next twenty minutes talkin’ about how many fingers their biggest customers measured. All their stories started well above ten, though Gentry was kind enough not to speak of her experiences in front of me.

  “I’m coming into camp,” Phoebe called out.

  “We were worried about you,” I said.

  “I’m sorry. I enjoyed the water so much I lost all track of time, and it turned dark before I knew it. I had to pick my way back carefully, so I wouldn’t turn an ankle or tear my clothes.”

  “Well, we saved you some fish,” I said, though I was sure Shrug had fed her.

  “Oh, I’m not hungry,” she said. “Please, divide my share and enjoy it.”

  “You seem happier comin’ back than when you left,” Hester said.

  “It’s good to be clean, and this close to Springfield,” Phoebe said.

  “Well, it suits you,” Scarlett said. “This is the most I’ve heard you talk the whole trip.”

  Mary said, “While you were gone, Gentry fucked Emmett.”

  “Why, thank you for sharing that with me, Mary,” Phoebe said.

  21.

  We trotted into Springfield around 9:30 the next mornin’, and went straight to the little ranch where Rose kept the oxen and wagons. Though only twenty, Rose owns the ranch and ten acres that surrounds it. She also owns houses in Wichita, St. Louis, Denver, Seattle, and San Francisco. Claims she inherited ’em when her various husbands passed on. I don’t know how much to believe about Rose, but I put nothin’ past her.

  “I’ve set the table for ten,” Rose said, as we approached.

  “How’d you know there was nine of us?” Leah said.

  Rose studied her a moment. “You won the titty contest?”

  Leah nearly fell off her horse.

  Scarlett crossed herself and said, “Don’t even look my way!”

  Monique, seein’ the fear in Scarlett’s eyes, crossed herself too.

  Phoebe leaned toward me. “How does she know these things?”

  Rose turned to Phoebe, and smiled. “I bet you slept well last night!” she said.

  Phoebe blushed, and I forced myself not to smile. All mornin’ I’d been wonderin’ what would cause a woman like Phoebe to fornicate with Shrug. Was it because he’d saved her life and she felt grateful? Was it because they’d forged a close bond with their conversations? Was it curiosity? Pity? Was it somethin’ sacred, or just a last fling before gettin’ married? The whole thing didn’t make sense to me. Then again, I never was very good at cipherin’ women’s reasons for the things they do.

  “And you, Emmett,” Rose said.

  “What?”

  “How did you sleep last night?”

  “It were a long trip,” I said. “We all slept well last night.”

  She looked at Gentry. “Some better than others, I suspect.”

  “You’re scarin’ me,” Gentry said. Then added, “No offense.”

  Monique shrieked, “Mon Dieu!”

  She was pointing at Rose’s cat.

  “That’s Rugby,” Rose said.

  “Jesse’s ballocks!” Gentry cursed. “Where’s his fur?”

  “He’s a hairless cat.”

  “On purpose?”

  Rose looked at me and said, “I see why you’re fond of her.”

  “Does he bite?” Mary asked.

  “Like a banshee,” Rose said. “But he won’t be joining us on the trip, so you needn’t worry.”

  Rugby jumped into Rose’s arms, and from there hopped onto her shoulder, where he perched like a parrot.

  “This is my tenth Rugby,” Rose said.

  “What happened to the other nine?” Mary said.

  “They died after living to a ripe old age.”

  “How is that possible?” Phoebe said.

  “I’m an old soul,” Rose said. “But enough about me. Climb off your horses and join me for breakfast.”

  Phoebe whispered, “Is it safe, Emmett?”

  “It’ll be the best breakfast you ever ate,” I whispered back.

  Rose’s ranch hand, Roberto, appeared, and offered to take our horses to the corral. We let him. Then we entered Rose’s kitchen.

  “Look at the size of that table!” Hester said.

  As the women washed for breakfast, I helped put the platters of food on the table. There was corn bread, biscuits with currant jelly, boiled eggs, hot cakes, sausages, fried potatoes, salt beef hash with onions, and some other stuff I’d never seen.

  Phoebe leaned over one such platter.

  “How on earth did you come by scrapple?” she said.

  “What’s scrapple?” I said.

  “Smell it,” Phoebe said.

  I did.

  “Heavenly, isn’t it?”

  It was. We looked at Rose.

  “It’s common food in Philadelphia,” Rose said, simply.

  Phoebe said, “Were you aware I’m from Philadelphia?”

  “No, but I’ve spent time there.”

  We each found something special. For me it was apple sauce, which I hadn’t had since I was a kid. Monique had a plate of fresh lemon tarts. Scarlett found peaches. Emma said, “Oh, my God! Oyster pie!”

  And so it went.

  As we ate, Rose said, “The women left without us.”

  She was referrin’ to the Springfield whores we planned to take to Dodge City.

  “All five?” I said.

  Rose nodded. “They left on Wednesday.”

  I paused. I had a history with one of ’em, and was surprised to hear she hadn’t waited for me.

  “Gina went with ’em?” I said.

  Gentry raised an eyebrow at me, but said nothin’.

  “Sorry, Emmett,” Rose said. “Some dandy came through town, said he’d relocate them in Wichita.”

  “Someone you know?”

  “No, and I don’t think he knows what he’s doing.”

  “Why’d they go?”

  She shrugged. “Guess they trusted him.”

  Gentry stared at me, as if wonderin’ how upset I might be about Gina not comin’ with us. When I said, “Well, that knocks the profit outta the trip,” it seemed to ease Gentry’s mind.

  Rose shrugged. “Something will turn up.”

  “I hope to hell so,” I said.

  After breakfast, Rose said, “Emmett, there’s a bucket of water on the back porch you can use to clean the dishes. Gentry, come with me.”

  Gentry looked at me before moving.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “You can trust Rose.”

  They left the kitchen together and didn’t come back ’til we finished the dishes. When they walked in, Mary saw Gentry’s face and started snickerin’.

  “Don’t you dare laugh!” Gentry said, makin’ a fist. She had some sort of yellow cream all over her face and neck.

  “What’s that?” I said.

  “A poultice,” Rose said. “In two days Gentry will be the prettiest girl in the county. Next to me, of course.”

  It was true that Rose was beautiful. She had thick black hair and milk-white skin the sun couldn’t darken, even the slightest shade. Her eyes were big and green, and her brows angled sharply above ’em, as if shape
d by a sculptor. She was slight, but sturdy, with a useful swell in her chest, and long legs. Her hips were narrow, and better for starin’ at than birthin’ babies.

  I’d originally planned to spend the afternoon buyin’ supplies for the trip, and roundin’ up the town whores and gettin’ their stuff packed on the wagons so we could leave the next mornin’. But there weren’t no Springfield whores to take, and Rose already had the supplies we’d need, so we loaded two wagons instead of three, hitched the oxen to ’em, and began our western journey a day early.

  Since Rose’s oxen were better suited for pullin’ wagons, she paid the whores a fair price for their horses and mule, and kept ’em in her corral, where Roberto could tend to ’em. Scarlett drove the whores in one wagon, and Rose and Phoebe drove the supply wagon. Major and I led the way.

  Because the Kansas draught had turned normal people desperate and deadly, I decided to take the old hunter-trapper trails, instead of the main ones. The problem with that plan was there’d be no water ’til Cherryville, some hundred and twenty miles from the Missouri border. If the draught was still goin’ strong, the water Shrug and I knew about in Cherryville might be dried up as well. If that turned out to be the case, we wouldn’t be able to fill the barrels ’til we got to the Arkansas River, thirty miles west of Newton. Of course, Wichita was closer, and had plenty of water, bein’ located right beside the Arkansas River. But I wanted to avoid goin’ there ’cause demand for whores was so high, if the locals knew I had a wagon full of ’em, they’d likely kill me and force the women into service.

  Plannin’ for the worst, we loaded six large water barrels onto Rose’s wagon, intendin’ to fill ’em at Copper Lake, twenty miles outside the Kansas border.

  “Do we need that many barrels for the trip?” Phoebe asked.

  “No. Two for us, two for the livestock.”

  “And the other two?”

  “I brought a couple of women to East Kansas a few months ago,” I said. “If they’re still where I dropped ’em off, and alive, they’re gonna want some water by now.”

  “Why Emmett,” she said. “That’s quite noble of you.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I just said, “Thank you.”

  “Don’t be modest,” she said, “it’s very gallant. You’ve caught me by surprise.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I wouldn’t have expected such thoughtfulness.”

  “From a coward who can’t shoot rabbits?”

  She smiled. “Perhaps I was a bit hasty in my assessment of you.”

  “Perhaps you were,” I said.

  “Well then, I apologize.”

  I nodded. “Apology accepted.”

  “Your soul might be worth saving,” she said.

  “You think?”

  “Every now and then a glimmer shines through.”

  “Well, maybe I’ll bring you somethin’ next time I come through Newton,” I said.

  “I doubt I’ll be wanting for anything,” Phoebe said, “but a visit would be most welcome, I’m sure.”

  “Then I’ll look in on you sometime,” I said, and meant it.

  I worried for Phoebe’s future.

  I doubted the rancher she planned to marry had any cattle left, or grass to graze ’em. The great draught of 1856 had been bad, but this one was far worse. Problem with Kansas, there ain’t no natural lakes. What water they have comes from rivers and rain barrels, and last I heard, the Kansas River had got so narrow, it could be forded at any point. I figured half the population of East Kansas would have moved away or thirsted to death by now.

  22.

  A couple hours into the trip, I heard the whores callin’ my name. It weren’t a fearful call, more like a teasin’ one. I sighed and backtracked a hundred yards to their wagon.

  “What’s wrong?” I said.

  “Can I ride with you?” Gentry said.

  “Wouldn’t be right to make Major carry two, less it was an emergency.”

  “But I’m so bored!”

  “We’ve got room for you in the wagon, Emmett,” Scarlett said, which set all the girls to titterin’.

  Gentry’s yellow poulticed face lit up. “Please Emmett?” she coaxed.

  I hate wagon ridin’.

  It’s bumpy and slow and hurts my back and neck somethin’ fierce.

  But I didn’t want Gentry to feel she’d given her considerable charms last night to an ingrate.

  “Maybe I will,” I said.

  We stopped the wagon Scarlett was drivin’, and I tied Major to the back of it and climbed in and sat beside Gentry. When I got settled, she kissed my cheek. It weren’t a pleasurable kiss, due to the stench comin’ off the poultice, which smelled like wet goat hair and rotten fish.

  Mary said, “There ain’t nothin’ worse than a schoolgirl’s crush on a cowboy.”

  By the time we traveled fifty feet I had to shift my position in the wagon twice, which prompted Mary to ask if I had somehow caught the crabs recently.

  Gentry stiffened.

  Before things came to blows, Scarlett said, “Anyone know a good joke?”

  Hester said, “I do.”

  “Tell it then,” I said.

  “Ever hear about the whore house for women with no legs?”

  “Nope,” I said.

  “You ought to check it out.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I hear the place is crawling with pussy!”

  “Oh Lord!” I said.

  Emma fondled her breasts and said, “Let’s play that question game with Emmett.”

  “Sounds like fun,” I said, noticin’ Gentry’s eyes were still smolderin’ over Mary’s insult. “But don’t start with me, since I never played before.”

  “We’ll ask you last, then,” Leah said.

  I was grateful for the skillful way these women could change a subject so quickly. I guessed they probably had to develop that talent to keep cowboys from killin’ each other when they come to town spoilin’ for a fight.

  My thoughts got interrupted when one of the wagon wheels hit a partic’larly large rock. I gritted my teeth and winced. Figured I’d bide my time an hour or so, then make up some excuse to get off this hell wagon.

  The girls asked each other one crazy question after another, most of which involved fornication, and I was glad Phoebe was ridin’ in the supply wagon with Rose, and couldn’t hear ’em. Their answers seemed impossible, but no less believable than the stories I’ve heard Rose tell. When they got to me, Mary said, “Okay, Emmett. What’s the most peculiar thing you ever saw?”

  Everyone turned to me. Even Scarlett, who was busy drivin’ the oxen.

  “Well, I don’t rightly know how to answer that,” I said. “What I think is peculiar might not raise your eyebrow.”

  “C’mon, Emmett, Hester said. “I told you about the two-headed turkey and the dancin’ bear.”

  “And a helluva story it was!” I said.

  “Then tell us yours. What’s the strangest but true thing you ever saw?”

  “Well, don’t know if it’s the strangest, but it’s true enough.”

  They waited for me to continue. I sighed and gave it up.

  “Five years ago Jimmy Bass shit a live fish.”

  “What?” Emma said.

  “Are you serious?” Leah said.

  Gentry clapped her hands and squealed with laughter.

  Scarlett’s face was full of doubt.

  “It’s true,” I said. “We were halfway across Kansas at the time, and there weren’t a lake or river within fifty miles. Still, Jimmy squatted to shit and a fish came out.”

  “A live one?” Gentry said.

  “Live as any fish you’d catch in a creek. Flappin’ around in the dirt, jumpin’ up five or six inches in the air and wigglin’ about.”

  “And his name was Jimmy Bass?” Scarlett said.

  “Coincidence, ain’t it?” I said.

  “Too much so,” she said. She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to
the trail.

  “You actually saw it come out?” Mary said.

  “Well, I weren’t watchin’ him do his business, but when he screamed, I come runnin’ and couldn’t help but notice half a fish stickin’ out his ass. He grunted and pushed, and then the fish hit the ground and started flip-floppin’.”

  The girls laughed ’til Emma said, “Which end of the fish came out first?”

  “The tail.”

  “Was it wigglin’?”

  I nodded. “Like a toddler in church.”

  Scarlett turned around again to face me.

  “How big was it?” she said.

  “About six inches. More or less.”

  “That’s a common size for a lot of things that have to do with men,” Leah said.

  “Maybe he had it in his kit the whole time, and stuffed it in his butt before you saw him,” Emma said.

  “Well, he’d have had to carry that fish fifty miles in the heat,” I said.

  “Maybe he kept it in a wet rag and poured canteen water on it regular,” Leah said.

  “I don’t believe you could keep a fish alive that way for fifty miles,” I said. “Nor frisky, neither.”

  “Maybe he caught the fish fifty miles earlier and hid it in the water barrel,” Gentry said.

  The wagon went quiet.

  We all looked at her.

  “I’ll be damned,” I said.

  Scarlett frowned. Probably disappointed in herself for not figurin’ it out.

  I frowned too.

  “I’m sorry he tricked you, Emmett,” Gentry said.

  I said, “I’m surprised the water barrel never crossed my mind.”

  “Well, you were probably just taken by surprise,” Gentry said.

  “At the time, maybe. But I’ve had five years to ponder it, and still never figured it out.”

  Scarlett said, “What happened to the fish?”

  “Jimmy ate it,” I said.

  23.

  Before long I was back on my horse, feelin’ much more comfortable.

  I hadn’t seen any sign of Shrug since he fucked Phoebe on the river bank, but I knew he was out there somewhere, keepin’ an eye out. There was no reason for him to lay down stones, since there was but one destination we could be headin’ for with all these water barrels, and Shrug would know what it was. I hoped to run into him at Copper Lake so I could ask him about Phoebe. I didn’t know exactly what to ask, but I had to ask somethin’. But as I rode some more, I changed my mind. I decided not to say a word about it unless he brought it up.