After that Paco got to bein' Paco again. He started tellin' dumb stuff Vox done and the way he was tellin' them things, he even had Daddy laughin' so hard he went to chokin' once. He told how he woke up one mornin' after Vox come home drunk and found the horse in the cabin and Vox sleepin' in the corral. He told how Vox come got him one day and took him to a dead steer. Vox was ridin' Paco behind him on that sway-back gelding and tellin' him that he never seen a steer with no hide that tough. When they got to the steer Vox went to skinnin' to show Paco what he was sayin' was true.
Vox was right. He couldn't cut that hide. He was usin' the dull side of the knife. Paco said Vox done things like that. He got somethin' in his head and nothin' could change it. For some cause, he decided that day that was how to use a knife and his slow thinkin' wouldn't let him see no other way to do it.
Paco said he let Vox work and sweat and cuss for about a hour and then told Vox to let him try. 'Course Paco used the sharp side of the knife and got that hide right off. Vox never did know how come Paco could skin that steer and he couldn't. Paco said he told Vox Mexicans got a magic that lets them get the hide off anything. He told Vox that he could of just thought that hide off did he want to and if Vox ever beat him again he was gonna think the hide off Vox. Paco said Vox didn't touch him for about a month after that.
Paco told how sometimes when there wasn't hardly nothin' to eat and Vox was gonna take what there was, he could talk Vox into thinkin' he already ate and Paco would get the food.
Paco had all kinds of other stories and they was some funny but Paco had ways of tellin' any story, had you fallin' off your chair. Them folks who run the Continental heard us laughin' and come and listened. They got to laughin' too. I seen Paco was gonna be fun to live with and I seen that my daddy loved to laugh. Before that dinner was over it felt like the three of us was just right. We belonged together. We was a family.
It kind of come to Daddy all at once that he better get a move on. "With you around keepin' me entertained, Paco, I'm going to have to watch my p's and q's. I've got things to do. I can't sit around here laughing at you all day. You boys can come with me but I don't think what I have to do will be interesting to you. Billy and I have to go over the hotel books and then I have to talk to the railroad about shipping some cattle.
"You know, those horses you bought aren't too bad. Why don't you go for a ride, or if you want, Billy has some fishing poles. You can fish in the creek."
I didn't want to ride. I knowed I was gonna have to ride some distance to get to the Bent-Y tomorrow and I already had a sore ass from all the ridin' we already done. Paco had done a lot of ridin' with them Indians so his ass wasn't sore but then, he didn't hardly have no ass to get sore anyway. He thought fishin' would be fun but I never had no luck in that creek down by Goodnight and far as I knowed, fish wasn't interested in whiskey or whores so I didn't figured they had no reason for comin' to Amarillo. Paco still thought he wanted to try fishin' so he said, "Sam, you want to do somethin' else, you go find them Jewish boys. Maybe them peeled pisser boys will play with you."
As soon as he said it, he looked at Daddy to see should he have. Daddy smiled and said, "I reckon there are better ways of describing those boys."
Paco said, "I'm sorry, Daddy. Sam told about them manners but I ain't remembered them all yet."
Daddy reached over and rubbed his hand back and forth on Paco's head, kind of pettin' him, and said, "You have time, son. Just try to remember."
It come to Paco that he didn't want to go off by hisself so we didn't know what we wanted to. We talked again of lookin' for them Jewish boys to see did they want to play but then we decided we was some tired, probably from that beatin', and we was just gonna go back to the hotel and rest. Daddy told us to try not to go to sleep or he didn't figure we'd sleep at night and we had us a long trip tomorrow so we needed a good night's sleep. Daddy had told us before that we could take the train up to Pampa and then it would be just a short ride to the Bent-Y. But, did we think we could stand it, he'd rather ride the whole way. He said that would be a good time for all of us to really get to know each other. Anyway, we had them bedrolls and if we got tired, we could make the trip in two days.
He asked again if we wanted to take the train. Me and Paco never rode a train before and we wanted to real bad but, I reckon, we wanted to be alone with our daddy worse. We knowed we'd get to ride the train, probably a lot of times, but there was never gonna be a first time with our daddy again. We wanted to ride them horses.
Turned out we done all that decidin' for nothin'. We didn't do none of them things. When we come out the door of the Continental, that Goodnight Marshal was standing in the middle of the street. He wasn't no kind of gunfighter but he had his guns tied down like them old-timey gunfighters and he was drunk. As soon as he seen us, he started yellin' at Flynn, "I'm the law, Flynn, you goddam dumb mick. I come for that whore's bastard. Give him to me. I decide what happens to that little son-of-a-bitch, not you rich, shit-don't-stink, goddam uppity Flynns. I'm the law."
Our daddy didn't even get mad. He seen that Clayhurst was drunk and I reckon he knowed that he was a coward.
Daddy pushed me and Paco back inside the Continental and said, "Just calm down, Tony. Judge Walton gave me custody. You have nothing to do with that boy any more.
"You're drunk and doin' like you always do when you're drunk, talkin' a whole lot bigger than you can do. Why don't you just go on back to Goodnight and shoot yourself some more whores."
I seen Clayhurst drunk a whole lot of times and this wasn't usually how he was. He was actin' more crazy than drunk. After you looked at him good, you seen that. I reckon I knowed him better than my daddy and I wanted to tell him that. I wanted to say, "He ain't drunk. He's out of his head," but I didn't get no chance. Clayhurst was yellin' too loud. He was sayin' stuff that didn't make no sense.
Me and Paco was in the Continental but we could hear Clayhurst yellin' real good. He was sayin', "Give me that whore's bastard, you son-of-a-bitch." He was callin' my daddy a yellow belly snake for not drawin' on him. He was sayin' things about my Grandpa and Grandma Flynn and it was so bad I ain't gonna even try to say it here. He was doin' everything he could to get my daddy to kill him.
But my daddy had a thing about him. Just like with Jigger, some folks was so low my daddy wouldn't even bother with them. What was bein' said was bein' said by someone so low, so worthless, that it didn't mean nothin'. My daddy paid no mind to what Clayhurst was sayin' and that made him all the more mad.
I heard my daddy call, "Clay! Clayton Brown, can you hear me?"
The man who seemed to be the boss of the Continental said, "I can hear you, Shay."
"Clay, watch my boys for me. Keep them in there until Tony goes home or passes out. I've got business to do." Then you could hear Daddy sayin' to Clayhurst, "I hate to be rude, Tony, but I just can't stand here and chat all afternoon. I got me some cows to sell."
Mr. Brown tried to keep us from it, but me and Paco just had to look out the window. We seen our daddy turn his back on Clayhurst and start walkin' down the street. We seen Clayhurst pull his gun and point it at my daddy's back.
I tried yellin' but nothin' come out my mouth. I was so scared for my daddy. I just got him and I loved him but I couldn't say nothin'. Paco told later, it was the same with him. Your head could tell your mouth what to do but your damn mouth wouldn't do it.
I must have closed my eyes from bein' scared. I heard two shots and I was afraid to look. I started to cry. I just knowed that goddam Clayhurst had killed my daddy. I could hear Paco cryin' too.
When I could make myself look where my daddy had been, I couldn't see nothin'. I know if he was hit, he should have been layin' in the street where I could see him. Then it come to me. Them wasn't pistol shots. Them was from a shotgun. I looked back to where Clayhurst was standin' and I couldn't stop myself. I throwed up all that good dinner.
Clayhurst was layin' in the street, almost cut half in two. Comin' down the street from either direction was Billy Walton and Sheriff Linquest. They both was carryin' shotguns. I seen Judge Walton comin' out of the courthouse. He was carryin' a shot gun too. Don't reckon he shot, but he was ready to was it needed. Clayhurst tried to shoot my daddy in the back but the Sheriff and them Waltons wasn't about to let him. My daddy seen only a drunk coward. I reckon the sheriff and them Waltons seen in Clayhurst what I did - a crazy man.
I figured Mr. Brown would be mad at me. I seen I didn't hardly get nothin' on them fancy clothes so I knowed my daddy wouldn't say nothin' but you'd think if somebody puked all over your floor, you'd be some mad at them. But all that Mr. Brown could think about was if me and Paco was all right. He didn't say a damn word about me pukin' on his fancy rug.
I went to cryin' again. Not from what happened in the street but from how I was bein' done. I'd been treated bad, name-called and run off just for what my mama done. Here I done somethin' should make a body mad and all he was thinkin' was, was I upset from seein' that man get shot; was me and Paco all right. My cryin' was a different kind of cryin' than I ever done before. It was kind of relief cryin' from knowin' our daddy was all right but it was feelin' good, bein' took care of cryin' too.
Our daddy come in the back door. All three of us hugged for a long time. Nobody said nothin'. We just hugged.
Daddy took us around the back way so we didn't have to see Clayhurst or the place where he was shot. Daddy forgot about his business. He stayed with us in the hotel. Nobody said much for a long time. Nobody needed to. Daddy was there. He was stayin' by his boys and that was sayin' everything that needed to be said.
After while I asked my daddy what that Goodnight Marshal was talkin' about and how he knowed my Grandpa and Grandma Flynn. Daddy told me that he had knowed Clayhurst since he was fifteen. He told me the story.
Anthony Farmore Clayhurst the Third was born in New York City. His daddy got to know both of my grandpas before they went to California. Grandpa Martin come from Germany and Grandpa Flynn from Ireland, but they both come to America on the same Clayhurst boat. They come steerage, what meant they was herded into that boat like a bunch of steers. While they was sailin', they got to be friends and to fill their time, they helped around the boat even though they wasn't paid nothin'. The captain told Anthony Farmore Clayhurst the Second about them when they got to New York and both my grandpas went to workin' for Clayhurst Ship Lines.
They both done real good. In a few years, Grandpa Flynn was a First Mate and Grandpa Martin helped the captain keep track of the cargo and the money. He couldn't boss men like my Grandpa Flynn 'cause he couldn't talk English too good then. My daddy says they both probably would have made Captain if they'd stayed with sailin' but they happened to be in San Francisco when that man found gold up to Sutter's Mill and they went lookin'. I already told you, they done real good.
Along with their minin' company and the banks they started, my grandpas done tradin' business with Clayhurst Lines after Anthony Farmore Clayhurst the Second got over bein' mad at them for jumpin' his boat for that gold. Clayhurst would ship out things like fancy chairs and cloth and other stuff they didn't have or couldn't make in California and my grandpas would ship back gold and even some of that fine redwood what only growed in California but what folks in the East wanted.
After they done that for a long time and, I reckon, my uncles and my daddy and maybe even my mama (she was some younger than my daddy) was already borned, my grandpas got a letter from Anthony Farmore Clayhurst the Second askin' could he send his son out to California. That boy had been sent to Yale College but he didn't do no learnin'. He done a lot of drinkin', stoled some money and done somethin' bad to some girl.
Do you remember how I was tellin' you that fancy folks don't want to know nothin' about what you got under your britches? Well, you can always tell when them fancy growed folks is talkin' about whorin' or them parts of you you do it with. When there's younguns around they tell the story right up to where they got to talk about them things and then they just stop and look at the other person like they're sayin', "You know what the hell I'm talkin' about." My daddy done like that. I reckon most younguns ain't seen all I've seen so that kind of tellin' most likely works on them. But I ain't that dumb. My daddy didn't tell me this but I knowed that Tony Clayhurst whored on that girl when she didn't want him to.
His daddy had to get him the hell out of New York and Connecticut or they was gonna throw his ass in jail. My grandpas said to send him on out. They figured they could straighten him out with some hard work.
Didn't work. Clayhurst couldn't work in the mines because he stoled from other miners and tried to jump their claims. They was fixin' to kill him. When they brought him to San Francisco, he was always drunk. My grandpas was proud men. They had give their word that they was going to straighten that boy out and they wasn't about to quit tryin'. When Grandpa Flynn had enough of San Francisco and come to Texas, he brought Clayhurst with him.
My daddy said you couldn't work no sense into him 'cause the son-a-bitch wouldn't work. You couldn't trust him to watch cattle. He'd let them wander off. He just wouldn't do nothin' but complain how bad the Flynns was doin' him.
You couldn't beat no sense into him. My daddy tried it. He had to quit tryin' because he thought he was gonna kill Clayhurst and it didn't do no good anyway. He just wouldn't do no work and you had to watch him all the time or he was stealin' somethin' or gettin' drunk.
When my daddy went to scoutin' for the army during the Indian wars, he took Clayhurst with him. He thought maybe some army discipline would cure the bastard.
Nothin' worked. Clayhurst got court-martialed and was in the army stockade for five years. When he got out, nobody seen him for a long time and the Flynns thought they was shed of him. There was some talk that he went back to New York and there was some talk that he was in prison in California. Nobody knowed nothin' about him.
About the time I was a baby and my daddy had brought my mama to the Bent-Y, Clayhurst showed up sayin' he was a changed man and could he have a job. Said he'd do any kind of work and he done it too - for a while. But he didn't really change. Before long he was goin' off drinkin' again and just like my grandpa done, my daddy and my uncles tried to get him to do right. They kept him on.
From a little boy, my daddy could always do things good. He could run the fastest. He was the strongest. Mostly he was the biggest and if them younguns was playin' a game, my daddy always won. He was some growed, like fifteen or sixteen, when Tony Clayhurst first come to know him. Tony was three years older than my daddy and he couldn't stand always havin' my daddy be better than him in everything they done. He was always tryin' to get somethin' from my daddy. When my daddy started likin' my mama, when they was still pop-n-jay younguns, Tony tried to court her too. Just like he won everything else, my daddy got my mama. Tony Clayhurst hated my daddy.
When he come back to the Bent-Y, he seen how he could get even with my daddy. He seen my mama's weakness. He started givin' her whiskey and that's what started her drinkin' again after she was doin' so good for a while. Clayhurst was always tellin' my mama how bad my daddy was doin' her, keepin' her like a prisoner out on that God-forsaken ranch, makin' her gather eggs and take care of a shitty-ass baby. She wasn't no ranch girl. She was a city girl who should be livin' a life of comfort and have someone to do for her. No lady took care of her own baby. She had servants to do that for her. Clayhurst was tellin' my mama that his daddy had a change of heart and was gonna let Tony have some of that Clayhurst fortune. Why didn't she come away with him and live like a lady?
She done it. That's when she took me and went to Goodnight. Clayhurst, o'course, lied to my mama about his daddy's money and she seen that, I reckon. She never did let him get his hands on her money. He knowed she had it but he never could find it. When my mama was down at the saloon or passed-out drunk at the cabin, I found him there lookin' a whole lot of times. He beat me some, tryin' to make me tell.
Clayhurst and my mama lived together for a while until my mama got so even Clayhurst couldn't stand her.
He took my mama from my daddy but he wasn't done tryin' to hurt him. He still had me, and keepin' me from my daddy and makin' my life miserable so it would hurt my daddy to see how I was bein' done got to be all Clayhurst wanted to do. That's why that lazy bastard spent a whole day on a horse lookin' for me after my mama got killed. That, and I reckon he knowed I had the money. I was the only way he could hurt my daddy. That's why he wanted me in that damn county orphanage so bad. That's why he was so crazy now that my daddy had me. He was like my mama. He was livin' for only one reason, to hate my daddy. His last hold on my daddy was gone. He had no more reason to live. He never could best my daddy. Even takin' my mama didn't work out good for him. But he figured he had one last chance to make my daddy do something. He could make my daddy kill him.
What do you say about someone like Clayhurst? He was like my mama. He could have been so much but all his life he didn't do hardly nothin' right. He couldn't even make my daddy kill him. Even over that, my daddy won again.