Читать книгу Leroy - K.G. Griffin - Страница 8

Truth be told, Leroy was a bit scared of Indians. The tales haunted him and conjured up some scary nightmares. One in particular was terribly harrowing. A wild yelping Comanche jumped on him from behind pulling him to the ground with a sharp knife ready to relieve him of his scalp. Leroy woke in a sweat, totally disoriented and shaking like a leaf. His heart was racing, and it took more than a few minutes to realize it was only a dream.

In spite of his fears, on April 15, 1870, he saddled up Molly to head for Texas. He packed his bedroll with a woolen blanket, a change of clothes, some hardtack, a small frying pan and matches for a fire. He planned to shoot rabbits and squirrels with Paw’s hunting rifle on the trip, and he also carried a large sharp knife for skinning and for protection if necessary. In addition, he bagged up some pecans that he hoped would whet his appetite a bit. And Samuel had generously sent him a twenty dollar gold piece along with a note of caution to be careful about spending it or showing it off.

Leroy kissed teary-eyed Mary Jane goodbye and gave a manly handshake to Henry, who bowed his head and said a prayer, “Good Lord, watch over this young man. He’s in yore hands now, jest like Jacob on his trip runnin’ from his brother Esau.”

Leroy bowed his head and said his own silent prayer, Lord Jesus, I’m running towards my brothers. Please help me find ‘em and please let ‘em recognize me and take me in.

Mary Jane wiped a tear from her cheek and spoke with a catch in her voice, “I’ll write to Johnny and let him know yore on yore way. Please be careful, and if Texas don’t work out, come back to Tennessee, ya hear?”

“Don’t fret, Mary Jane. I’ll send you a letter when I find those son of a guns. You can be sure I’ll be fine on the road and mostly careful of who I take up with.”

“Me and Henry will pray fur you every day.”

Leroy mounted Molly and headed for Collinwood, the next town south of Waynesboro. As he came to the main road, he looked back one last time to get a good set memory of the house, the farm and Mary Jane holding the baby and waving with Henry’s arm around her. He feared he would never see them again this side of heaven.

Heading south, at first the trip was full of fun as he felt proud of his decision and very manly being on his own, but by late the very first day, he was already feeling saddle sore and somewhat homesick. He met up with a few other travelers, but “Girl,” he spoke lovingly to Molly, “we’ve gotta find a place to bed down and get some shut-eye.” He came to a grassy area near a creek where he and Molly could get their fill of water and Molly could graze. Soon he had a fire roaring, and he had some corn for popping, but still his belly ached for something more substantial. This was the test he had worried about. He grabbed the rifle, loaded it and crept into the shadows to see if there was anything about worth shooting. His stomach growled and then growled again. He saw a raccoon washing his hands down by the river and took aim but missed. Nothing else showed itself, so Leroy walked back to his camp, ate some of his hardtack, then added a few good sized branches to the fire and unfurled his blanket.

When he did, a small New Testament fell to the ground. It was Mary Jane’s. Leroy’s eyes filled with tears, realizing his sweet sister had snuck it into his bedroll. It fell open to Mark 8:3 where Jesus, said “If I send them home hungry, they will collapse on the way, because some of them have come a long distance.” Leroy bowed his head and said a quick prayer. “Jesus, if you can feed thousands, could you please provide a little something fur a hongry kid?” When he lifted his head, he saw something gray and white nestled in the soft grass just a few yards away. It was a good-sized rabbit. Leroy quietly picked up his rifle, aimed and shot. The rabbit let out a scream and then fell silent. Leroy skinned it, cooked it and ate every bit. With a full belly and sheer exhaustion from the long day’s ride, he thanked the Good Lord and fell into a deep peaceful sleep until near dawn when he felt something slither across his legs. He woke with a start to see a large rat snake winding its way into the taller grass nearby.

“Molly, you’ve got to warn me when varmints are about. I’m countin’ on you, girl. I cain’t git bit or chewed on in the night with you standin’ by silent watchin’ it happen.” Molly hee-hawed and gave him a cold I-don’t-care stare.

Leroy wiped the sleep from his eyes, rolled up his bedroll and then performed his morning constitution. He debated about taking a dip in the creek, but thought better of it. He was eager to get back on the trail, but he did take time to eat some of the hard tack and a few pecans. He was hoping for a good second day on the road to Fort Worth, Texas, a 650-mile journey as the crow flies. He figured if he could make at least 20 miles a day, he could get to his destination in a month’s time. Of course, that all depended on Molly. She wasn’t as spry as she used to be, so she would need plenty of grazing time and rest. He planned to go slow and steady because he also knew that he needed rest as much as Molly.

That same day, he came to the Natchez Trace, a well-worn narrow path where he joined other travelers, some going slower in horse-drawn wagons and others attempting to rip past him on gelded ponies. It wasn’t long until he made an acquaintance, a young man named Bugger who was also on a mule, though his was not as complacent as Molly, and Bugger kept reining her in from time to time. Bugger looked to be about Leroy’s age and close to the same size. He had bright orange hair and was completely covered in freckles. He had a sideways grin that revealed teeth that were not exactly white, since he had recently taken up chewing tobacco. Bugger liked to talk. He kept yawing about his own plans. “Yes siree, I’m gonna make it big in Jackson, Mississippi. I’ll turn that town upside down, and afore you know it, everyone will have heared of Bugger Smith.”

Leroy thought Bugger’s name was appropriate because all that yapping began to bug him. Not only did he talk a lot, but he talked so loudly others besides Leroy could hear him clearly even from a distance. Finally, Leroy asked, “Whatcha gonna do in Jackson?”

“Whata my gonna do? Let me tell you, I’m a gambler, and I know cards. I’m gonna sit at those high falootin’ tables and make me a killin’. I’ve got my stake that I’ve saved up for two years, and those Mississippi gamblers won’t know what hit ‘em when I sit down at the poker table.”

That surprised Leroy. “Why, yore just a kid. How did you learn how to play poker?”

Bugger was somewhat offended, but relished the conversation as he bragged about his uncle Charlie who had taught him all the ins and outs of poker, including some sly tricks that were sure to make him rich at the tables. Then he casually asked, “When we bed down fur the night, how’s about a little game of brag. I’ll teach it to you. I got cards with the Tiger on ‘em. You might have beginner’s luck and win my money, but I doubt it. So, do you happen to have any coin with you that you wouldn’t mind riskin’? Win or lose, it’s lotsa fun, fur shore!”

“I’ll thank about it.”

“Well, don’t thank too long. There’s other folks along this trail that would be happy to be dealt in. Come to thank on it, that’s a great idee. I bet I can get several of those guys over yonder with them wagons to play a little brag with us. Wait here.”

Leroy felt for the twenty-dollar gold piece in his shoe. He wasn’t about to let that go, but he thought maybe it wouldn’t hurt to watch the game. However, he remembered his maw’s admonition that cards were of the devil and he’d better never pick one up.

Sure enough Bugger had managed to get three guys to sit down and play. Two of them were merely boys and knew just enough to get into trouble. But the third guy was older and soon showed Bugger he knew a few tricks himself. They all tried to get Leroy to buy in, but the stakes were two quarters, and he begged off sayin’ he didn’t have any quarters.

It didn’t take long until the young guys lost their quarters and headed back to their campsite, but the older dude, Marvin Brooks, kept feeding the pot, and Bugger had a twinkle in his eye and dealt the cards with a sure hand. Bugger’s wry smile told Leroy he had this greenhorn right where he wanted him, and sure enough Leroy could see Bugger had two aces and a lady. Even Leroy knew that two aces would beat just about anything. When the gent called, Bugger brandished his hand with a grin and looked to rake in all 12 quarters, but Marvin smiled right back, and said, “Not so fast,” and laid down three 5s. The greenhorn picked up the quarters and walked back to his wagon whistling a happy tune.

Bugger was devastated and began to cuss and spoke with derision, “I knowed that dude cheated, but I ain’t shore jest how.”

Leroy doubted that, but then again he knew very little about all the ins and outs of poker. Just then he smelled something tantalizing that made his mouth water, so he made an excuse that he was going to relieve himself, which he did, but then he wandered closer to the wagon where a woman was stirring a pot while her two little boys gathered more firewood to keep things boiling.“Shore smells good,” he offered.

The woman looked up, smiled, and asked, “You hongry?” She had a kind face and a welcoming smile.

“Shore am. I’ve had mostly nothing’ since this morning, and my belly is tellin’ me it’s near empty.”

“Well, I ‘spect we can spare a bowl of stew.” Then she hollered, “Cora, find us another bowl. We’s got another mouth to feed.”

Leroy looked toward the covered wagon and saw a girl close to his age push back the curtain on their wagon carrying bowls for him and their family. Leroy jumped to his feet to help her down, and she thanked him with a nod and a steady gaze.

Suddenly, Leroy felt totally tongue-tied, and when the girl’s mother asked his name, he managed to stutter “L-L-Leroy.” Then Cora smiled really big, and he couldn’t help but stare in wonder at the softness of her face, a sprinkling of freckles across her nose and wisps of blonde curls that escaped her braids. She was wearing a simple calico print dress and a loosely woven pale blue shawl about her shoulders. She was just a few inches shorter than he was and not quite as skinny.

“Well, this here’s Cora, and I’m Misses Willett. My husband’s talkin’ with some of the men in the lead wagon. He shot us a deer last night, and that’s the venison that’s makin’ yore mouth water.”

“Indeed it is. Thanks, ma’am,” Leroy managed to mutter and then turned his gaze toward Cora as he accepted the bowl she handed him. He sat on the ground and waited for the stew, but he kept sneaking quick glances at the lovely Cora who would catch his eye each time.

She then walked straight toward him, plopped down and scooted closer. Leroy took a deep breath and held it when she turned to face him and asked, “What’d you say yore name was?”

Again, Leroy found it difficult to talk and for just a minute couldn’t remember his own name. As she continued to stare at him with a questioning expression, he finally spoke, “Leroy,” but in the middle of the syllables, his voice betrayed him and decided to jump up an octave.

Cora smiled and said, “Oh, Leeroy. That’s a nice name.”

Leroy hated to be called “Leeroy.” He much preferred the pronunciation “Laroy,” but coming from her it sounded like an endearment so he didn’t correct her.

The family, which included Cora and her two younger brothers, Ben, six, and Tom, four, all bowed their heads as their maw said grace. Leroy bowed his head but did not close his eyes. As Misses Willett waxed eloquently, Leroy turned his head just slightly, and there was Cora with her big blue eyes wide open looking straight at him. Leroy quickly shut his eyes tight and felt a wave of heat and cold sweep over him all together.

Misses ladled out the stew and asked, “So, where exactly are you headed?”

“Texas, ma’am – Fort Worth, to be exact.” Leroy devoured the stew and turned the bowl up to get the last few drops, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He then nodded at Misses Willett, and sputtered, “Thank ye kindly. That shore was good. I best be gittin’ back to my mule.” He picked up his hat, and as he did, Cora’s hand brushed against his. That sent shivers down his spine. He struggled to stand up, but his knees were so weak he nearly sat back down. He turned to Misses Willett and said, “I reckon I’ll be seein’ you on the trail,” and then he looked at Cora one last time as he turned to go.

Leroy let out a long, deep breath and wiped his brow as he walked back toward Bugger and Molly. He said under his breath, “What’s wrong with me? I darn-near fainted.”

When Leroy got close to his camp, Bugger looked up as he gnawed on some hard tack and asked, “Where ya been? That shore took a long time. Did everthang come out okay?” Bugger chuckled loudly.

Leroy ignored the crass remark and began preparing for bed.

Then Bugger offered, “So you want a piece of my hardtack?”

Leroy shook his head and said, “No thanks. I ain’t hongry.” Then he tended to Molly, got his bedroll out, read a verse from the Bible and dropped off to sleep in no time.