I knowed what I was gonna do come dark. About three miles south of Goodnight was a creek. I don't know why, but there was always water in that creek, even when all the rest of the water holes was all dried up. Them old men that sit around in front of the saloon all day tellin' them lies talk about a time when the town well dried up but there was still water in the creek.
In this kind of country, where there's water, there's trees. The creek had a nice stand of cottonwoods along both sides. Along that creek would be a good place to hide until I could decide what to do next.
I got there fine and I slept that first night at my secret place. Next mornin' I headed up the stream toward Claude. I still wasn't sure what I was gonna do but somehow I was thinkin' I had to get to Amarillo.
I had all the water I needed from the creek but I should have thought on bringin' some food or a fishin' line or somethin'. I knowed my chances of catchin' any fish was mighty slim. I'd tried fishin' that creek before. If there was fish there, I never knowed no one who caught none.
Didn't seem like there was nothin' around to eat. I had me that gun but I never did shoot it none. I thought on it some. I reckon every boy wants to shoot a gun but mama always had it by her bed and she was mostly in her bed and I reckon I didn't want to shoot it bad enough to fuss with her about it. Since I never shot it none, I didn't know if I could hit somethin' even if I seen it. Wouldn't be nothin' but a scrawny jack rabbit anyway and I hear they ain't even tolerable eatin'. I did have them six boxes of bullets, though, and there wasn't nobody to stop me from shootin' now. I knowed folks wouldn't pay no mind to the shootin' even did they hear it. You could always hear shootin' from the range. Folks was either practicin' or shootin' at varmints so my shootin' wouldn't attract no attention.
That damn gun was heavier than I thought. I had to hold it with both hands but I got so I could hit them chunks of wood and stuff I was shootin' at about half the time. When I had only one box of bullets and what was in the belt left, I decided I better not waste no more. Anyway, I had to get a move on. It was two days since I ate nothin' and if I didn't get somethin' soon, I was probably gonna die. Thinkin' on dyin' didn't scare me none. Figured it was better than lettin' them damn Christians get hold of me again.
Toward evening the second day, I come on a rickety old cabin, didn't look like nobody could live in it. It had big holes in the roof and the door was hangin' on one hinge, halfway closed. Even from way off where I was you could tell the place stinked like hell. But there was smoke comin' out the chimney and there was a sway-back chestnut and a mule in a broke down old corral west of the cabin. As I come closer, I seen somebody lookin' at me over the sway back of that mangy lookin' chestnut. Must have been a youngun 'cause whoever it was could just barely see over that swayed down part of that chestnut's back.
I yelled, "Hey," but that youngun just run like hell for the cabin. Next thing I seen was the barrel of a big buffalo gun stickin' out the door, pointed right at me. I knowed that youngun wasn't holdin' that big gun 'cause he was bare-ass naked like a lot of them range livin' folks let their boys run. He looked way too puny to be holdin' that rifle that steady.
Lot of them range livin' folks come to Texas from the Confederate states after the war between the states. I knowed that from them times they let me go to school. Them teachers said the war damn near ruined the whole South and wasn't nothin' for them poor whites there no more. Lot of them come west. Some of them done good but a lot of them was livin' in shacks like this one, stayin' alive any way they could. Most folks called them Crackers.
Don't know why but most of them Crackers let their boys run naked. Clothes, I reckon, cost too much, 'specially when you was about to starve and wasn't nobody to see them but family anyway. From what folks was sayin' around Goodnight, them naked younguns didn't have nothin' to do with them Crackers bein' poor, though. Folks was sayin' that's how them boys run before they ever come to Texas. It was just how them folks done things.
I reckon them Goodnight folks was right. You never seen them Cracker girls runnin' naked. Reckon it takes as much money to put somethin' on a girl as it does a boy so them bare-ass boys wasn't from bein' poor. They could always find somethin' to put on them girls, even if they was just two or three years old. It might be just a old gunny sack with holes cut in for the head and the arms but them girls always had somethin' on them. That was another thing that questioned me. Never did think out why they put them clothes on them girls and let them boys run naked.
Well, from that boy bein' naked you could tell it wasn't him holdin' that buffalo gun. He was too skinny and I knowed he wasn't strong enough to hold it as steady as it was bein' held.
"If you'd take a good look you'd know I ain't much bigger bare-ass boy that just run in that cabin. Ain't no cause to hold no buffalo gun on the likes of me. If you're strong enough to hold that gun that steady, you're strong enough to smash me like a skeeter, so don't waste your bullet."
"You may be small, but you're packin' iron."
I knowed the voice. He was one who come to see my mama pretty regular.
"I ain't gonna shoot you, Vox. Did you hear my mama got killed? She wouldn't shut her goddam mouth and she tried to kill Hans Gutner. Goddam Marshal had to shoot her. You know me. Let me in. I'm about to starve to death."
He lowered the gun and stepped out the door. That bare-ass boy come, kind of scared like, and stood behind Vox, peekin' around at me. "You know they're lookin' all over for you, boy? What the hell you doin' a-way out here"?
"Ain't lettin' them find me. I ain't goin' to none of them orphanages no more. They got them goddam Christians that run them places and them son-a-bitches is mean. I got me this gun do I run across one. Do I, I'm gonna shoot the bastard.
"That your boy, Vox? I never seen you bring him to town."
"Ain't never had no money to buy him no britches. Town folks don't take kindly to bare-ass younguns runnin' around their towns."
"You sure had money to come see my mama. Don't reckon no britches cost no more than she did."
"Hush your mouth, boy. Paco here don't know nothin' about them kind of goin's-on."
"I reckon I know more than you think, Vox."
Now that I got a better look at him, I could see that the boy was part Mexican or Indian. Could be he was all one of them. He didn't call Vox Pa. He stepped out from behind Vox and I near about laughed. He was so funny lookin'. He was so skinny you could see his ribs under his skin. His arms looked like broom handles and his legs wasn't much bigger than my arms. Skinny as he was, his belly was stickin' out like he was fat and when he turned around, you seen he didn't hardly have no ass. When I got done lookin' at him good, I was glad I didn't laugh. It come to me that what I was seein' wasn't funny. It was sad. That boy had been bad treated and from how he looked, I reckon he was starvin'.
But there was somethin' about him. He may have been beat and starved but he wasn't whipped. He reminded me some of Emma. He may have been livin' like a rat, but in his thinkin, he wasn't no rat. He had a quick smile and he got a kind of ornery grin' on his face when he got ready to say somethin' that was close to sassy.
"Did it ever come to you, Vox, that when you was in town whorin' on that boy's mama, I was with them Indians down the creek and they was tellin' me what you was doin? Hell, Vox, might be you never let me go no where but I ain't as dumb as you. Reckon you know that though. I sure as hell told you enough."
Paco might have been real little and real skinny but seemed like he wasn't scared of nothin'. He was talkin' right up to Vox and I knowed that Vox was mean. He was one who liked to beat on my mama when he was whorin' on her. From the bruises and scars on Paco, somebody had been beatin' on him too. From how he was doin' Vox, him bein' little and skinny and beat on didn't stop him from talkin' up to folks though. I never seen him before and I knowed most white folks didn't like Indians or Mexicans but somethin' about that Paco made me like him right off.
You could tell Vox didn't like him though. "Now, that ain't right, you goddam greaser son-of-a- bitch. You ain't nothin' to me and I'm givin' you a good, white-man's up-bringin'. Ain't right you talk to me like that. Boy eight years old ought to know better."
"Goddam, Vox, I was more than eight years old when you won me in that poker game. That's been near about three years ago. Reckon that makes me about fifteen."
"You ain't no fifteen, Paco. Eight plus three is 'leven. That's what I am. You ain't older than me."
"Well, hell. I never done no schoolin'. I don't know how them numbers go."
I looked at Vox. "How the hell did you win' him in a poker game? You can't own folks."
"Can't rightly say I won him. He was with a mule skinner who said he took the boy off some son-of-a-bitch was treatin' him real bad. The mule skinner said his wife wouldn't let the boy stay at his house. She had too many other younguns and she didn't think real kind on greasers.
"That mule skinner had all my money but he said I could play another hand. If I won, I'd get the money that was in the pot. If I lost, I'd have to take that boy but he made me promise, did I lose, I'd look after that boy until he was big enough to look after hisself. I lost the goddam pot and I won that skinny-ass boy. He ain't good for nothin' but eatin' my grub and fetchin' and carryin' a little. But I'm a man of my word. I'm keepin' that damn promise even though it was the worst mistake I ever made. "Paco give me kind of a funny look. "You 'leven and on your own already?"
"I have been for three days now even did I spend the first one in a shit house pit. Don't recommend spendin' the day in a shit house pit but even that's a damn sight better than lettin' them Christians get hold of you. Vox, you got found? I can pay."
"Got beans. Where did you get money, boy, and where you goin?"
"None of your damn business where I got the money. Them that had it will know soon enough where I got it."
I wanted him to think I stole the money so he'd think I had just a little.
"None of your business where I'm goin, either. Looks like it's none of mine too 'cause I don't know. Just goin'."
"T'ain't right, a boy your size stealin' from folks already. You livin' with a whore and stealin' and all. You just ain't had no good up-bringin' but can't worry none on that now. If you take that bare-ass boy with you when you go, you can have some of them beans and welcome. Ain't no charge. Me and that boy is wore each other out. We're plumb tired of each other."
"Well, goddam me," Paco said. "I reckoned I'd be a hundred years old before I heard you say somethin' that made sense. Reckon you ain't as dumb as I was thinkin', Vox. Most of the time you ain't sure if you're shittin' or eatin' but you was damn sure right about that. We are plumb tired of each other and I reckon you've kept your promise. If that boy can look after hisself, I can look after myself.
"But you got to think, Vox. When I'm gone outta here, who the hell you gonna beat on when you come home and ain't found nothin' to skin and you're drunk and mad at the whole goddam world?"
"Seems I recollect livin' right smart before you come. Reckon I'll get by after you're gone. Just don't fret yourself none on me. Just think on the quickest way to get your ass on out of here."
I never did like Vox. He was one of them that never bathed. You could smell him as soon as he came into the cabin. From smellin' his place, I knowed why. Mostly he watched the sky for buzzards and then went to see what was dead. If it was a deer or a steer or most likely a sheep but sometimes even a buffalo, he'd skin it out and sell the hide. Wasn't much skinnin' to do no more with the buffalo mostly gone, so Vox never had much. I sure never knew he had that bare-ass boy livin' with him though.
We ate. Them beans was awful but they was somethin'. It was important to Paco that I knew that he didn't make them beans. He didn't have no clothes, no schoolin', and hardly no ass but he had pride. "I didn't make them beans. Vox did. I make good beans.
"You gonna take me with you? Probably too late for leavin' tonight. If you want to, you can sleep the night in the loft with me and we can be off first light in the mornin'. Reckon we better get Vox drunk. He ain't had no skinnin' luck for more than a week and he's about out of whiskey. If he ain't passed out drunk, he'll be headin' for Goodnight. He'll be thinkin' the Marshal will give him four bits for tellin' he seen you. If he don't think to go to the Marshal, he'll be tryin' to steal your money."
I knowed Paco was right. Vox had been watchin' me real close while we was eatin' them rotten beans and it come to me he was tryin' to think out how to get either my gun or my money, probably both. I wasn't about to let him have none of my things and while we was eatin', I was thinkin' did he try to take them, I'd shoot him. But Paco knowed him better than me. Gettin' him drunk was a better idea than killin' him, I reckon. Paco walked to Vox carryin' one of them brown clay whiskey jugs. "You'd best go to your jug, Vox. This boy's stayin' the night. We're leavin' in the mornin'. You go on and get yourself good and drunk 'cause I don't want you talkin' on me all that shit you're always sayin' about how everybody's cheatin' you or you'd be a rich man. You're poor 'cause you're dumb. Ain't nobody cheatin' you and I don't want to hear no talk from you tonight. I got me somebody else to talk to. You just take to your jug and leave me be."
"That's why you're goin' boy. You eat my beans. You sleep in my cabin. You ain't nothin' but a goddam greaser. Who the hell you think you are, tellin' a white man what to do? Just ain't right. Goddam greaser livin' with a white man. You ought to be thankin' me, all the kindnesses I done you."
"Only kindness I can think you done me is you get too drunk some nights to beat on me. If it wasn't for them Indians down the creek, I'd most likely starve to death. Look at me: bare-ass naked, so damn skinny I scare myself. I reckon a good up-bringin' is more than talkin' shit to a youngun. I think it has somethin' to do with feedin' them and gettin' them clothes and such like that."
Vox started to get up to go for Paco. He had fire in is eyes and if he could have got to Paco, he'd have beat him. Skinny and sick lookin' as he was, Paco moved real fast and I stuck out my foot and tripped Vox. He went flyin' and looked like he was gonna come at me. Paco said, "You have a hell of a time just dealin' with me no more, you stinkin' bastard. Me and that boy ain't little like I was when you was beatin' me any time you damn pleased. We're growed. You can't beat both of us. Just go to your jug. I reckon you beat Paco for the last time."
Vox seen Paco was right. "You bad, boy. I'll be plumb gratified when I don't have to look at you no more. Just give me my jug and leave me be."
Paco said to me, "He's dumb. Let's get to the loft and do some sleepin'. We're gonna have to be long gone when Vox sobers up. He'll be tellin' that Goodnight Marshal he seen you."
I said to Paco, "I ain't sleepin' in that stinkin' cabin and I ain't sleepin' near you, don't you bath in that creek. That goddam shit house pit smells better than you do."
He looked at me like he was gonna come after me. For somebody who was so skinny and bad used, he had a fire in him. I reckon maybe I should've been more gentle on tellin' him he stinked, but goddamit, he did. I don't take too good to stuff that stinks.
I reckon it come to him that I was just sayin' what was and not funnin' on him. He kept lookin' at me for a while and then he shook his head and we walked toward the creek. We waited until Vox was pretty drunk before I took off my clothes. I couldn't count all that money in that poke but I knew there was a lot there - hell of a lot more than I figured Mama'd have. I don't know where all that money come from but there was a awful lot of it, both the paper kind and gold. I don't think you can get that much money from whorin'.
When we was sure that Vox was drunk enough not to try to steal nothin', I pulled off my britches. I hid the gun and the poke under them britches and took Paco to the middle of the creek and made him soak a spell. He yelled and bitched at how cold it was but I told him, "It takes a little cold if you're gonna get rid of the stink." I seen that fire in him again. "Ain't had nobody never tell me I stink before."
"Well hell, you been livin' with Vox and he stinks worse than you do. Never been around them Indians much, but I reckon they stink too."
"Indians don't stink. Them Indians is bathin' all the time."
"How come you never bathed with them?
"Never seen no need to. Never knowed nobody that bathed but them Indians and I figured it was just a Indian thing to do. I swim with them some. That's some like bathin', ain't it?"
"Some, but you got to work at gettin' the dirt and the stink off. If them Indians is bathin' all the time, how come didn't they tell you you stink?"
"If a Indian is your friend, ain't like him to say somethin' you might not want to hear. They ain't like some white folks I just recent come to know."
I knowed he was talkin' about me but I could tell he was more funnin' than mad so I went to work bathin' him. I didn't have no soap so I took some swamp grass from the edge of the creek and scrubbed on his back and ass and the back of his legs. That grass was real tough and it scratched on him and he yelled and cussed. Hurt me in my chest when it come to me that I was hurtin' him. From his skinny and his scars I reckon he'd been hurt enough. I told him I was sorry.
It surprised me when I said it. Mostly I wasn't sorry about nothin' I done but there was somethin' about Paco that made me want to do him good. I didn't know what it was. I knowed I wasn't pityin' him. I knowed he wouldn't let me do that.
He looked all mixed up. He stood there lookin' at me with a question on his face like he was tryin' to think out what I said. Pretty soon he said, "You ain't sorry. You want to see sorry, you take a good look at Vox."
"I wasn't meanin' that no-good, worthless kind of sorry."
"What other kind of sorry is there? I ain't never heard of no sorry but the Vox kind." I didn't say nothin' for a spell. I couldn't think that a boy got his big and didn't know what the feelin' bad kind of sorry meant. "There's the kind that means I didn't want to hurt you. I feel bad that I done it."
His mouth come open and his eyes got real big. He got a real soft look on his face and before he turned off, I seen some water comin' to his eyes. He didn't say nothin' and I didn't say nothin' about the water. I knowed he didn't want me to know it was there.
Somethin' happened between us right then. All my talk about not needin' nobody didn't mean nothin'. I knowed I cared about him. I knowed I needed him and for the first time I can remember, I wasn't afraid to let myself know that I needed somebody. It questioned me why I needed him. I hardly knowed him. Could be it was 'cause we was kind of the same. Neither him or me didn't have nobody. Could be it was 'cause I was kind of scared for what was ahead for me. I didn't know where I was goin' or what I was gonna do. Could be not knowin' with someone else was gonna be easier. I didn't know why I needed him. I just knowed I did. Was he my friend? When you ain't never had none, you don't know for sure but could be he was.
He just kept lookin' away from me. I think he wanted to say somethin' but I was hopin' he was like me. I was hopin' he was havin' new feelin's and he couldn't put words on them. I was hopin' he was tryin' to think out if I was his friend too. I was hopin' he wasn't sayin' nothin' 'cause he didn't know what to say. I was hopin' when he got done thinkin', he'd need me as much as I needed him.
We stood like that for a long time, not sayin' nothin'. It come to me that somebody had to say somethin' soon or late so I said, "What did them Indians use to get clean?"
Paco turned around and looked at me. There was still water in his eyes but he got that ornery grin again. "I ain't knowin. I'm just damn sure it wasn't nothin' would take the hide off them."
I throwed down the swamp grass and just went to rubbin' on him with sand from the bottom of the creek. I'd seen cowboys who just come off the trail do that so they could be some clean before goin' into town. I'd used sand myself when I didn't have no soap and I knowed it didn't take off much dirt but then, it didn't take off no hide neither. This kind of bathin' might take some of the dirt off you but it sure as hell didn't do much to the stink.
When I got to the top part of one of his legs, right up there by his ass, I seen a mark that looked like a butterfly. It wasn't no scar and you could tell nobody drawed it there. It was just there, kind of under his skin. I scrubbed on it but it wouldn't come off. "What's that?"
"What's what?"
"That butterfly lookin' thing right there by your ass."
"How the hell do I know? It's been there as long as I knowed I had a ass. I reckon it's just part of me."
I looked at it again and then turned him around and scrubbed his belly. I don't think he ever bathed with soap in his whole life.
"Do you really want to run off with me?"
"Do I go with you or do I go by myself, I ain't stayin' here. I had enough of Vox beatin' on me and if he ever finds a skin to sell, he's off to your mama and whatever he's got left goes for a jug. When he's got a jug, that damn Jigger mostly comes back with him. Them's two mean drunks. The drunker they get, the more they go to botherin' on me. If I see Jigger comin' when I ain't sleepin', I go to them Indians. But mostly they come home after I'm sleepin'. Hell, I'm in that loft. I ain't botherin' them none. But that damn Jigger comes up there and goes to botherin' on me - burnin' me with them cheroots and such like. When they go to burnin' you with them cheroots, it hurts like hell and makes you so damn mad you just got to cuss. Then Vox is sayin' he's got to punish me for cussin' and both of them go to beatin' on me. That ain't no kind of way to live. With you or by myself, I'm goin'!
"But I got other problems too. One of them Indian boys told me he heard some of them young bucks talkin' on stealin' me and sellin' me to the Apache. Them bucks think they can get two good horses for me. Them bucks think I'm gettin' too big to come to their camp anytime I please like I been doin'. When I was little, they didn't care none. But they think I'm gettin' old enough to start thinkin' on their women so stealin' me and sellin' me to the Apache is a good way to solve that problem and get two good horses at the same time.
"Qua, he's the Indian boy who was tellin' me all this, says it could be them bucks was just talkin'. Mostly them Indians ain't the fightin' kind. All them fightin' kind was took to Indian country a long time ago. But these has been just huntin' and doin' cowboyin' for some big ranch over near Pampa and them Pampa ranchers got the government to let them stay here.
"Qua says some of them old ones sit around the fire in the evenin' tellin' about the wars the Comanche won and how they was raidin' and stealin' horses and women and children and how they was feared and respected. Them young bucks is frettin' 'cause they're thinkin' nobody respects the Comanche no more. When them young bucks get some whiskey in them, they're always sayin how they're gonna make the folks in west Texas respect the Comanche again. Qua says there ain't no tellin' what them bucks will do when they got some whiskey in them.
"Even if Vox wasn't a sorry son-of-a-bitch, I'd have to move on before I get too much bigger. I'm near about big enough to do a man's work and them Apache work a slave to death. That's what Qua told me."
"I thought all them Apaches was on the reservation. The army whipped Geronomo a long time ago. That's what that school teacher told me."
"I don't know nothin' about no school teacher or no Geronomo. I just know Qua said there was Apaches would trade for me and I'm movin' my ass."
"How come Vox brings that damn Jigger here? That's one mean son-a-bitch! He come to my mama a lot and most times he beat her real bad when he was whorin' on her. He's crazy!"
"Jigger only comes when Vox has got a jug. He's the only kind Vox can get to pay him mind. He thinks Jigger likes him. Vox is dumb. He thinks Jigger is his friend. The only thing Jigger's a friend to is whatever jug Vox has got. When the jug's empty, Jigger's gone."
I thought on Jigger for a spell. He was one of them who was real mean when he was drunk but, hell, he was most likely mean when he wasn't drunk too. I don't reckon anybody knowed for sure 'cause I don't think there was a time when Jigger wasn't drunk. Thinkin' on Jigger and that Goodnight Marshal and them damn Christians made the whole idea of movin' on seem real friendly.
"We got to get some horses. Will them Indians sell us some?"
"You got that much money? Don't let Vox or them young Bucks know or you won't have none. You might not even have your hair if them young bucks are drunk."
I thought a minute. "We could steal Vox's horses. He's got that sway-back chestnut gelding and that pack mule. He's so drunk he don't know if we're here or not."
"If we took them, he'd go to the Marshal. Horse stealin' is hangin' even if you are only 'leven or whatever the hell you said we was. Truth is, we got a problem with Vox even if we don't steal his horses. Vox will do anything for jug money. First thing after he gets his head back from his drinkin', he'll go to the Marshal. If the Marshal will give him four bits, Vox will tell him he seen you. Walkin' or on horses, it won't be hard to find which way we went and track us down. You'll be back in that orphanage with them Christians before you have time to shit out them beans we ate for supper."
I thought some more. I already told you that a lot of things question me but there was one thing that didn't question me at all. The one thing I was damn sure of was: I'd sooner be dead than back with them damn Christians. Sendin' me back to them Christians is the same as killin' me. Them Christians would never let Sam Martin live in me. They'd kill him and put a whore's bastard in me instead.
There wasn't too many of them gunfights no more but I'd heard tell of a lot of them. When a man tried to kill you, you tried to kill him. Folks thought that was right. I reckon I thought that was right too. When somebody kills you, he takes what you are away from you. It don't make no sense just to let someone do that. You got to fight back. You got to try to stop them. I wasn't gonna let Vox take what I was away from me. This was like a gunfight. If he was gonna try to kill me, I was gonna try to kill him.
I didn't say what I was thinkin' for a long time. I already told you, I mostly kept hold of my thinkin'. Mostly I wasn't mad with folks and I never had no reason to think on killin' nobody before. But this wasn't mad thinkin'. This was savin' my life thinkin' so I said it. "We best kill him, I reckon." Paco didn't say nothin' for a long time but I could tell he was thinkin'. Finally, he said, "I thought on killin' him more times than I can know. After he beat me I'd just lay there thinkin' the only way out of this is to kill that son-of-a-bitch. He's dumb. He's so dumb he thinks just by keepin' me here he's bein' good to me and givin' me a good up-bringin'. He ain't good. He's no-good mean and he deserves dyin' but if we kill him they'll figure I had somethin' to do with it. If I hang it will be for more than that sorry son-of-a-bitch.
"No, I ain't gonna kill him."
He got real quiet and went to thinkin' some more. He looked hopeless. I never seen no look quite like that before. When you was lookin' in his eyes, it was like you was lookin' into a dark room. I knowed he was sad and knowin' that made me sad. I got some water in my eyes.
What the hell was goin' on here? I mostly only got them cryin' feelin's when I was thinkin' on Emma or that big red-headed cowboy.
Pretty soon a kind of a light come on in his eyes. I was glad it did. If I'd kept on feelin' sad for him like I was, I'd a been boo hoo cryin' and that would have been lettin' someone see my feelin's. I liked him real good but I was still some scared to show him nothin' how I was feelin' for him.
He sighed like he was glad them hopeless feelings was over too and said, "Vox is death afraid of them Indians. He goes crazy when he even thinks about them. Drunk as he is though, we can probably get him to go down there and try to steal one of their horses. When them Indians catch him, he'll be crazy scared. Can't tell what the hell he'll do. Ain't our fault if them Indians have to kill him from him bein' crazy."
Paco went to Vox. He was so drunk he mostly wasn't even awake but he could tell what Paco was sayin'. "Vox, I reckon you're right. Tain't right me bein' so thankless to you for my good up-bringin'. It come to me there's a way to pay you back. Them Indians turn their horses loose in that little grassy spot between here and their village about this time of evenin'. Why don't you go on down there and get you one. Ain't right them Indians got better horses than a white man."
Vox looked at him all bleary eyed. He looked like he was tryin' to think out what Paco was sayin' to him. Finally, I reckon it come to him. He slurred out, "Reckon I will."
Vox struggled to his feet and was almost fallin' down when he was walkin' toward his corral. Paco called after him, "Now you got to be real careful. Them Indians is real good at spottin' them that tries to sneak up on them. You can't ride no horse. You got to go real quiet on foot. If a man comes ridin' up to a Indian camp on a horse, them Indians will hear you right off. Just walk real quiet on down there and you can get one of them horses. Paco said, "But, now that I think on it, I reckon you better not. You ain't as smart as them Indians. Somebody as dumb as you, they'll catch him right off. They'll take your hair. Them Indians love that dirty yellow hair like you got.
"It's a damn shame that you're so dumb. No Indian should be ridin' better than a white men. You said that yourself but you're just too dumb. I reckon you just better stay here. Even do you deserve them horses more than them Indians, you ain't smart enough to get one away from them."
I didn't like Vox at all but it was kind of sad seein' a growed man bein' out-thunk by a bare-ass boy. Vox was awful drunk but you could tell Paco could out think him even if Vox was stone sober. I reckon he was dumb but that wasn't no reason to let him kill me. What was bein' done had to be done and Paco was doin' it real good. Vox staggered off toward them Indians. "Goddam Indians. I'm more smarter than them red sons-a-bitches."
By now it was dark. I'd been sleepin' where I could and I didn't sleep too good. I'd think I had me a spot all cleared off but sometime in the night a stick or a stone would get to pokin' me and I was always some cold. But I at least had britches. Paco said, "I know you said you wasn't sleepin' in that loft with me and I'm gonna tell you now, I ain't sleepin' outside. It gets too damn cold. I got some hides that's soft for sleepin' on and some hides for coverin' up. You can feel all cozy and warm. Why don't you want to sleep in there?"
"That place stinks like hell. I can't abide them stinkin' places."
"You tellin' me how you hid a whole day in a shit house pit, then. Reckon if you could stand that, you can stand that loft for one night."
He was right. Anyway, seemed like the loft didn't smell as bad as the rest of the place and it was kind of nice havin' someone close by you when you was goin' to sleep. 'Cept for them months in that orphanage I was always by myself when I was goin' to sleep. When I was real little, I was always some scared.
Now there's another thing that questions me. I could go all day and not think of nothin' scary but as soon as I was tryin' to go to sleep, here come them scaries Since I can remember there was always talk of La Nube Negra. Mostly it was Indian talk but them stories was that La Nube was after younguns. Them Indians is always blamin' some ghost or evil spirit on stuff that goes bad and I mostly thought they just made La Nube up. But when you're tryin' to go to sleep, you ain't sure. Sometimes I was thinkin' I heard that black horse that them Indians said La Nube was ridin' comin' up to our cabin. I'd pull them blankets over my head thinkin', did La Nube come, it wouldn't find me.
When they let me go to school, them school younguns was all sayin' they didn't think there was no La Nube, but if they was tellin' the truth, they'd have to say they was some scared goin' to sleep too. Everybody was. I don't think much on La Nube no more but it was still nice havin' someone close by you when you're goin' to sleep, even if Paco still stinked a little.
Just before daybreak we was woke by a bird that sounded like it was right outside the door. When he got full woke, Paco made the same sound back. The door opened and a Indian come into the cabin. It was some light but I couldn't see him good. It looked like a boy and when he talked, even though I couldn't tell what them words meant, you could tell it was a boy 'cause it was a boy's voice, not a man's. I was some surprised at Paco. He was talkin' them Indians words as good as he could talk white man's talk, sounded like.
When the Indian boy left I heard him in the corral botherin' the horse and the mule. I didn't know hardly nothin' about Indians 'cept everybody was always sayin' them Indians steal from you. "He's stealin' our horses!"
"He ain't stealin' nothin'. Vox done like I thought he would last night. When them Indians caught him, they was just tryin' to run him off but he got crazy. He cut their chief with his skinnin' knife and he was tryin' to cut anybody he seen. He was goin' for a three-year-old youngun and that papoose's daddy throwed a knife and killed Vox. They was tryin' not to.
"That was Qua. It was his daddy Vox cut and it was his sister's boy Vox was tryin' to kill. Qua says them Indians is all thinkin' the army is gonna get after them now, even if they was tryin' not to kill Vox.
"Qua's sure his daddy will give us some old Indian ponies for that gelding and mule. Them Indians eat them old horses and Qua said it won't make no difference to his daddy which ones they eat. A mule and sway-back gelding is just as good eatin' as wore out Indian ponies and Indian ponies is at least used to bein' rode. That mule ain't and that sway-back gelding is mean as Vox. He bit me more than once and he's always tryin' to get his light end pointed toward you. He never did kick me but it wasn't because he didn't try.
"Qua says we ain't hardly gonna be able to make them old ponies run but they'll do us until we can steal better.
"I didn't tell him we had money. He's my friend and he wouldn't try stealin' it but he's still just a youngun. It's just better he don't know everything we're up to. Them young bucks can't make him tell what he don't know. Anyway, Qua's a Indian and he's still got some of that old-timey Indian thinkin' in him. For them, stealin' a horse was an honorable way to get a horse. It ain't that they're bad. In their thinkin' it told how good a man you was when you could take somethin' from your enemy."
We ate what was left of them rotten beans and found a pair of Vox's britches to put on Paco until we could buy better. Just before we was done eatin' them beans, Qua come back with them horses. He come and went so fast, I didn't get a good look at him but them horses he brought was old. One of them was steppin' real ginger like on his right foreleg and the other one was walkin' into stuff like he was blind. But they'd do. We didn't have nowhere to go too fast anyway.
I picked up that foreleg and seen a stone in that soft part and got it out with a stick. The pony walked some better but you could tell his foot was still sore. Didn't make no difference if the other one was blind. They had on army bridles so we could guide them and one of them even had an old army saddle.
Comanches don't like them army saddles. They make their own saddles. They're some like cowboyin' saddles but they come up a lot higher in the back, almost like you're sittin' in a chair. Paco said Qua told him that his daddy said them old time Comanches learned how to make them saddles from Mexicans. In them old times when they was stealin' army horses, them braves would give them army saddles to them younguns to play with. Paco said lots of times they'd throw them old saddles over a log and play they was soldiers and them Indians was chasin' them. Paco said nobody wanted to be the soldiers and since he wasn't Indian it was mostly him who was bein' chased. He said he reckoned he'd been scalped more time in his life than he'd shit but them was some good times, playin' with them Indian younguns. Paco said Qua was a good friend. He was givin' away a valuable toy but then there wasn't too many of them real young ones left no more and boys Qua's age wasn't play ridin'. They was sneakin' out at night, ridin' around on real horses. Paco said he done it with them a whole lot of times. Paco said, "We'd better move right on out. Them Indians is goin' to Goodnight to tell that Marshal about Vox. If that Goodnight Marshal finds you here, It's back to them Christians with you."