The Jewels of Nebraska #10 -Gas From a Straw

The Jewels of Nebraska -Episode 10

To start this series from the beginning. 

Ben wasn't sure if he had enough money to even get himself home. He was camped a stone's throw from the highway. He hadn't had much to eat for a couple days. He thought about his garden back home, with tomatoes rotting on the vine.

There had been no sign of either the Injun'-talkin' Swede who had stolen his neighbor's truck, or the two runaways and the couple he had sent them off with. What the heck had made him run off like that in the first place, he wondered.

He thought about Ruby. “I ain't so skinny.” she'd said to him after kissing him on the cheek. She'd held on to his face with both hands and smiled with her eyes. He hadn't given her much thought till then, now he couldn't get her out of his fool brain.

He let the campfire burn to embers. His eyes closed.

Fool, fool, fool.

He would turn back in the morning.

The back of the truck under the tarp and amongst ragged old furniture was not a fun place to ride, Ruby already knew. It was even less fun when she was bound hand and foot and gagged with a rag between her teeth. Her backside raw as red meat from Caleb's beatings.

She passed the time remember old songs and humming them through her gag. Then it occurred to her; was it the twenty-first? She counted the days back to the time she and Billy had jumped the train. It was, it was the twenty-first! She switched to a different tune. It sounded so much sadder then the last time she'd heard it.

Happy Birthday.

Caleb had taken the precaution of securing the unruly girl after the incident on the narrow cliff road. They were driving through Grand Junction that day and he didn't need any attention drawn to them. She'd tried to convince that young couple she was being kidnapped.

'Kidnapped', the insolence. This ungrateful girl was being delivered into grace. He'd teach her to appreciate her blessings; one way er another.

It was a great blessing all around. It was clearly God's will that he arrive at Brother Tobias's compound with one wife wed and, one ready to be his second bride, wed by Brother Tobias hisself, Caleb imagined. Brand new to the Church as he would be, Brother Tobias would probably make him a deacon, or some such person of prominence in the community for bringing two females into the fold, one still of childbearing age.

Brother Tobias had six wives already according to his books and his letters and encouraged his followers to do the same.

While buying gasoline in Grand Junction, Caleb explained to the attendant that the furious noises and bumping coming from under the tarp of the truck was the family pig, even though the fellow hadn't asked him nothin'.

Ben jumped up from his sleep. The big Swede was sitting opposite him poking the ashes of the fire with a stick.

Unarmed, he grabbed a sturdy branch and held it like a baseball bat. The man in the black hat didn't stir, didn't look up.

“Where are the kids?” Ben said. His voice jumped in pitch un-expectedly.

The brim of the hat tilted to the right. Ben looked over and saw William sitting on a rock, holding a camera. He looked down into the viewfinder, pointed at Ben and the branch and clicked the shutter. He looked up with a smile.

“Hi Ben,” said the boy.

“Billy!” shouted Ben. “You alright?”

“Yeah fine. Mr. Huette hit Ruby in the face. They took Ruby, left me by the road. I saw a bear, didn't take a picture of the bear though, darn it.”

“I'm sorry.” Ben sat back down. “I'm sorry I left you with such bad people. They seemed so nice.”

“We're lookin' for Ruby.”

“So this fellow hasn't hurt you none?” Ben nodded at the black hat.

“Nah, he's okay I guess. Never says too much.”

“We go, ja,” said Kohn.

“See, stuff like that. Then he won't say another word until lunch,” said William.

Kohn walked back up to the road, Ben grabbed his bedroll and jacket and followed with William.

“Hey, what's the idea?” Ben said when he saw Kohn ripping a fuel line out of the engine of his truck.

Kohn walked back to the gasoline tank and fished the hose inside. He began sucking from the hose like a straw.

“He doesn't drink that, does he?” It might explain a thing or two.

“That's what I thought first time too,” said William, “watch”.

“Yeah, I can't wait to see what else he's going to do to my truck!”

Kohn took the hose from his mouth and placed it in a gas can. They heard gasoline dribbling into the empty can.

“See? Neato, huh?”

“Yeah,'neato,' he's stealin' my fuel!”

“Just movin' it to the other truck. You're comin' with us, to help get Ruby.”

“His idea?” said Ben.

“Mine,” said William.

I didn't know where to begin. How does one find a baby amongst a hundred thousand people if the baby was even still in-town. She might be at a farm out past Lincoln, or who knows. Back in them days, folks didn't go to a doctor unless their baby was sick.

It figured that someone in service to the rich was either the recipient of the child or the broker of the dirty deal.

“Yeah, just breaks her heart,” my lie would start out typically, “My sister and her husband can't make any babies.”

Mostly I'd get “shame, that,” or the suggestion of prayer. But I kept on about to anyone I'd meet at the country club or waiterin' private parties. Just hoping for a break.

Dearest Charlotte, Every night I pray to the good Lord that he will guide me to your baby girl and that he will watch over her and keep her safe till we find her. Keep faith and prayer yourself. I have told not a soul of this so we must make the most of just our faith alone. I fear I have nothing of substance to report again this week, but I am tirelessly searching by any means I know. I hope that you are well and healthy. Affectionately, H. Newman

Dear Mr. Newman, I am well enough, or so I feign to those around me so they may see fit to grant me some freedom from this cage. I smile and speak not of my child nor of my desire to leave this house. I even decline offers to walk on the grounds or even to sit on the terrace in the improving weather. This that they may be suspicious of my reclusiveness and unwittingly encourage what I secretly desire, to run from this place never to look back. It truth, I am in despair with each breath my baby takes that I am not with her. My pantomime of gaiety is wearying. To smile when I wish to scream takes my every strength and there is little sleep at night to reclaim it. I apologize good sir for burdening you with my troubles when you, my lone ally, need good spirits to see you through this task. Again I thank you to my deepest for your kind endeavors on my behalf. I will be forever in your debt. I wish you good health and good fortune. Yours, Charlotte A. Millard

Olaf stayed while I read the letter.

“Did I forget your nickel?” I asked the young boy.

“No.”

“What is it then.”

“I might just be nothin'. But...”

“Yes?”

“There's this gentleman, this feller. I seen him once or twice when delivering milk with papa. That Millard place, the place where your lady lives, where I take these letters. It's a queer thing, I'll tell ya.”

“Yes, yes.”

“He don't knock on the door. He reaches down under this bush and gets him an envelope, sorta fat like. Then he just walks off. Don't you think that's queer?”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Olaf looked sheepish.

“Only cause, well my papa says maybe it's important to... you know, what you're lookin' for.”

“Lookin' for?”

“The lady's baby.”

“Why you dirty little. Did you read our letters? Those was meant to be secret.”

“Of course I did.”

I grabbed the boy by the shoulder.

“Please mister, you woulda read 'em too if you was me. Wouldn't ya?”

I had to laugh. “Yes, I spect I would sooner or later. You musta been scared to tell me this.”

“Yeah I was, but papa said I had to tell ya.”

“So you told you father about this.”

“I had ta, I had to tell someone and if you can't trust your old pa...”

“Anyone else?” I said.

“No sir, Honest, no one.”

“Okay Olaf, you're forgiven. This fella you saw. What'd he look like?”

“Don't know, he was covered up good. It was still pretty dark too. I'll tell you this though: Everytime I seen him, it was the first of the month. And you know what tomorrow is?”

“April Fool's Day.”

To be continued...

The Jewels of Nebraska, Episode 9 -Secret Letters

Click here to start this series from the beginning.

“How did you know my name?” said Charlotte. “Did they tell you about me?”

“Who? No.”

The surprise had disarmed her fight to break away from me and run out into the freezing cold. The pain left her face for moment as she searched my eyes for a flush of recognition.

In the light of the lantern now on the floor of the barn, Charlotte did not look very much like the girl I had seen at the train station many months before. Here face was red and swollen, her nose running and shiny. Her hair was falling from her bun in wind-blown tufts. Her eyes, those hazel eyes, though dimmer, sadder and rimmed with sleepless nights, still sparkled like candles.

I must have been staring.

“What's the matter with you sir? You are too bold in your gaze, to speak not of accosting me as you did.”

She wiped her eyes and smoothed her hair. I came to my manners and offered my kerchief. When she took it she looked me in the eye and paused.

“It's you! The rude young man, from the station.”

“You told me your name.”

“And you remembered? You remembered me?”

“Of course.”

“I'm rather embarrassed.”

“Do you live here?”

“They have me... I'm staying here, yes.”

Charlotte tightened the jacket around her, a men's coat. One of the party guest's it looked like.

“And you're..."

"A waiter, for the party.”

"You don't talk like a waiter."

"I can when I need to, but this here's just you and me."

“There's certainly no one out here that needs your service.”

“Sides you?” 

She pretended not to hear me.

The wind whistled outside. She got up and looked out through a gap in the door.

“Whatever you was looking for... whoever, it'll be a might better to catch your death in milder weather.” I said.

“I'm not so sure.”

“I can't leave less I know you're warm and safe, you know that don't you?” I hugged my own shoulders to it make it more than obvious I didn't have a coat on. "It ain't exactly balmy for me neither."

She tried to hand my kerchief back, but I put up a hand.

“You should go first,” I said. “I'm already fired, sure enough, but walking in with you wouldn't improve your situation none, whatever that is.”

“My situation is none of your concern,” She said.

“I don't recall ask'n.”

She turned back to the door. I didn't see the tear until she wiped it away.

“If you knew, the truth about me, you might not stare at me with such...”

“I been to church enough to know judgin' is for the Almighty alone.”

“These folks have been to church quite a bit and they do it rather soundly.”

“Well candles are in church all week, don't make em saints though. Who are these folks that judge you. Parents? Kin?”

“I'm afraid I've become a bore. We should let you get on to your job.”

“Ain't no matter now,” I said.

“Oh dear, I'm sorry for that. Please accept my apologies if my errant behavior has cost you your job.”

“Well, I hope my behavior back at the train station didn't cause you too much embarrassment. I didn't know rich folk very well back them, before I started waitin' tables.”

“It's quite alright, Mr...”

She extended her hand.

“Newman.” I took her hand and kissed it, like I'd seen gentlemen do at the country club. “If there's ever anything I can do for you Miss. It seems like... Well, like maybe you could use a friend.”

She turned without another word. I watched her brace against the wind as she went towards the house. I waited till she was inside before I followed, and went in the kitchen entrance. I fetched my jacket without paying heed to the butler--who was loudly firing and insulting me with twenty dollar words--and went on home.

My kin didn't take much delight in my fine mood over the next few days. I was worse than after the train station. I was “walking on air”, as they say. I had found my Charlotte, still without a ring on her finger. They told me I didn't have a chance but it was no matter.

I thought of going back to the house where she was stayin' but I knew I wouldn't see her. I had seen those folks plenty of times at the country club. They must have left her at home for some reason. I didn't spect her situation would improve none with a poor boy like me hanging around.

I took a break behind the kitchen of the country club enjoying the nice weather: thirty-five degrees. The sun was out and water was dripping off the eaves.

“Hey, you Newman?”

I turned to see a young lad, about twelve.

“Yeah, I'm Newman.”

He looked at me funny. “You sure, you're Newman?”

“Who's asking?”

“The lady said you were a tall, good looking fella. You ain't too short but...”

“What lady?”

“I deliver milk, I just ride and run the bottles to the door. I'm gunna drive my own wagon one day.”

“What lady!?”

“Hang on a minute mister, I had to walk half cross town to get here.”

“What Lady?”

“This fancy lady big house on Dewey, gave me a gold pin to get you this.”

He handed me an envelope and my kerchief neatly folded on top of it. I put it to my lips hoping for whiff of her perfume but the smell of sour milk from the boy's pocket overpowered any, if there was.

I handed him a couple pennies.

“Golly gee,” he said with mock enthusiasm.

“Can you be here tomorrow?”

“If you can find a nickle in your pocket before then.”

“Yeah, okay ya little...

I stole off to the privy and opened the envelope. Her script was imperfect and hurried. Strong, but erratic strokes cried out from the page.

Dear Mr. Newman, I trust the bearer of of this letter has returned to your handkerchief. Thank you for it's use and for your kind assistance on the 11th of March. Please forgive my immodest presumption Mr. Newman. My situation, as you called it, is desperate and warrants a deviation from social graces. You had offered your help and I have decided to place my trust in you. Forgive my ambiguity. For now, I must test the waters of both your character and that of our courier whom, if he is reading this shall receive no more chocolates or jewelry to pawn! I anticipate your favorable reply and utmost discretion. In your trust, Charlotte A. Millard

I was over the moon. The woman I had dreamed of had sent me a secret letter. It was like a dime novel! But I was filled with worry and unrest as well. If any one had wronged her, I could think of nothing other that socking them on the jaw, no matter their station, height or girth.

The mystery of her predicament made for a sleepless night. Many drafts of my response rendered but a short one.

Dearest Charlotte, I am at your disposal, and discretion. Please advise how I may be of assistance. No task is too imposing. With affection, H. Newman

Dear Mr. Newman. I fear any standing of respect I have in your eyes will diminish markedly when I confess my sins. I must be honest in any case. I write this with trepidation, please pardon the shaking of my hand. If, after hearing my sins, you decide not to continue our association, I will understand and release you from any offer of assistance. I will be most appreciative of your continued discretion. In my home of Philadelphia, I was engaged to a man who took egregious liberties despite my protests and left me bearing his child. He would not acknowledge his responsibility, or honor his intentions to marry me. I confronted him publicly to my family's great embarrassment. I was quickly and secretly sent to live with distant relatives here in Omaha. Even as you saw me on the day of my arrival, I was two months with child. I gave birth to my daughter the following winter. My daughter was taken from me only days after her birth. My relatives will not tell me where she was taken. Attempts to find her on my own have caused my relatives to keep me effectively a prisoner in their home. Gilded though it may be, I am but a bird in a cage. My father's funds of support give them no incentive to release me or allow me to find my baby. The loss of my daughter has left a hole in my heart I cannot describe the depth of. It is my only desire to have her back in my arms. Every day I am without her becomes more dark and hopeless. Mr. Newman, if you are still willing to help me, I must warn you the road ahead will be difficult. Though I come from a family of means, I myself cannot not offer you any monetary compensation, but a few personal items and my eternal gratitude. I am very sorry if I have allowed you to think higher of me than I deserve. I cannot treat you dishonorably and hope for honor from you. Please forgive me. I eagerly and anxiously await your reply. In your trust, Charlotte A. Millard

I felt like I'd been kicked by a horse. How could this be? I had created a Charlotte in my head based on a few quick minutes, that didn't exist. I wanted to except it but it just sat there like a lump in my throat.

Olaf walked up to the rear door of the huge house with a flat of milk bottles that clinked together as he walked. He tried his best to be quiet in the predawn hour, not for fear of waking anyone, but of one person in particular. He set the flat on the step and tip-toed away. A voice above him froze him in his tracks.

“Any word?” Whispered Charlotte.

“No Ma'am.”

“What? It's been two days.”

“Sorry, He hasn't given me anything.”

“Go find him.”

“Awe, It's clear across town.”

“Please!”

“ I gotta go lady.”

Olaf ran back down the walk and to his father's wagon. Charlotte closed the window knowing she would be holding her breath for another 24 hours.

I sat in a tavern with my father and my brother. I was practically crying into my beer.

“You're an idiot, a fool,” My brother said.

“Go ahead, kick a man while he's down.”

“You are! I have to listen to you go on about Charlotte for month after month after month. Charlotte, Charlotte, Charlotte. It's all you ever talk about. We can't even talk about baseball without it ending up being about ever-lovin' Charlotte.

“It's February Bill, who wants to talk baseball?”

“Then, by the grace of the good Lord, you find her, so I think: maybe now I won't have to hear about Charlotte no more. But no, you were even worse. Now she asks your help, what for? You won't say, but she needs you and you're cryin because she ain't what you thought; how? You won't say.” Bill dragged his beer off the bar. “I'm going to go and find someone who wants to talk about somethin else, hell, politics, anything!” He walked off.

It was a good minute before my father said a word.

“Your mama. Prettiest girl in Omaha.” He took a long sip of his beer. “Now, but not then so much. She had three sisters. Everyone wanted to dance with 'em, but she was standing alone whenever the fiddle played. I might not had the nerve to talk to her otherwise. Now I always thought she was a looker. After she had a fella tellin' her she was sweet lookin, giving her ribbons for her hair and nice things, everyone else thought so too.”

I rubbed my forehead into my palm. “I don't see how...”

“Yeah, it's plain that you don't.” He said less kindly. “A woman is how you treat her.” He lit his pipe and started to leave. “I don't know what this girl did, but whatever it was, it wasn't to you. You got everyone convinced she walks on water the way you talk, cept yourself seems?”

“Do you have any idea vat time eet is?” said the man at the door. “Ver up at four o'clock delifring milk ya know.”

“Is Olaf here?”

“Olaf?”

“Who is it pa?”

“Some crazy man.”

I handed the young boy an envelope with one hand and a quarter with the other.

“Tomorrow,” I said.

“Yeah, sure thing.” yawned Olaf.

Dearest Charlotte, I will help you. I will do it for no sum, but the honor of seeing you hold your daughter again. Affectionately, H. Newman

Continued in Episode 10

The Jewels of Nebraska, Episode 8 -A Date With the Chickens

Click to start this series from the beginning. 

The rolling white crests of the Colorado river dodged boulders below the road they traveled on. The walls of the canyon were so steep the whole sky looked like a stripe of light blue in a shaded green. She couldn't figure how it was the trees weren't falling into the river growing in places that were more vertical than not. It was beautiful, nothing like Ruby had ever seen.

She didn't give a damn.

All she could think about was her brother, left back by the road a couple days ago now. It was her bright idea to run off, now look at the mess they were in. The county orphanage didn't seem near so unreasonable now.

There were no guard rails or nothin' along the cliffside road. Only good steering and brakes to keep the car from going over the side.

They met a car coming the other way at a narrow spot in the road. A young couple. After some negotiatin', Caleb agreed to drive in reverse to find a spot where the two cars could pass. He guided their vehicle backwards in the shaking mirror. Ruby tried not to think about the steep ledge.

She looked into the eyes of the young woman in the car they were facing. She wished they could see Ruby's sad story in her eyes and rescue her with them to Hollywood—at least that's where she decided they were from.

Truth be told, the other girl wasn't any happier that the kidnapped runaway. The two stared at each other with blank faces and hollow eyes. Maybe if, they were a little closer and maybe if that old windshield was a little less dusty, she mighta seen that lady's red eyes and the bruises round her neck.

Caleb cursed continually. He cursed in that Christian way that ain't cursin' but still is to anyone that can tell it from Shinola.

The truck lurched suddenly backwards. The left rear wheel went over the side. Ruby shrieked instinctively jumped from her seat, folded down the wind shield glass and climbed out on the engine cowling, it was hot under her hands and knees. The truck tipped back but as Ruby climbed out on the front fender, it settled back. She was about to jump off when confronted by a chorus of voices.

“NO, DON'T!”

“Don't move young lady.” Said a voice behind her. The groom had jumped from his car and walked towards Ruby with his hand held out.

“For heaven's sake child.” pleaded Ester.

Ruby's eye's found Caleb's. He had a hateful look hanging behind his mustache. For once he had nothin' to say.

Ruby glared back wondering if he was thinking about the same thing she was: the night before.

“Sit like a lady girl,” Caleb grumbled from across the campfire.

Ruby's knees were already tight together but she spread her dress down over her knees to appease his temper. It seemed nothing could keep him from his foul moods, still she felt like she had to try.

“Don't be shooting me that willful look girl.”

“But I didn't even...”

“Don't back talk! What kinda mama raised such barn-mannered little hussy.”

Ruby raged inside, but bit her tongue. He would sure beat her if she spoke up.

“I bet I know what type your mama was: little hussy, big hussy, praise be oh Lord.”

Ruby couldn't take no more. She jumped to her feet, her eyes all angry red. She could have crushed a med-cine bottle in her teeth right then.

“My mama was... is... she used to... She's is a real lady you know. You don't know nothin' bout manners anyhow you old... clodhopper.”

Caleb shot up from where he sat, stepped clean over the fire and lifted ruby up by her arm. He unfolded his pocket knife, nearly dropping it in his shaking hand, and cut the twine that tethered her ankle to the log she was sitting on and tied her hands together in front.

“You 'bout to learn some manners girl.”

He marched her into the woods towing her by the wrists. Ruby flashed a glance back at Ester who looked straight ahead at the fire, her coffee cup frozen and inch from her lips.

A good hike from the campsite Caleb found a fallen tree around waist high. He yanked Ruby over it with the rope that bound her hands and lashed the free end to her ankles leaving little room between the two and the girl draped over the log like a saddle on a horse.

I had taken my belt off to discipline my Ruby once or twice... no it were just once. It was terrible. I didn't have the stomach for it. Fortunately, just the mention of my belt did the trick after that one time.

From that once, she knew well enough the sound; Caleb's belt slapping through the belt loops when he yanked it off. Ruby bit her lip and let the pain come out in silent tears and a secret drop of blood in her mouth.

HE beat her a good ten times with that belt. Caleb was enraged by her silence. He dropped his belt put his hand stiffly to her backside for all he was worth. Finally, the cries escaped Ruby's lips. Caleb's hand came to rest on her cotton dress, he was panting quivering. He looked upon her as if frozen in a trance.

Ruby tried in vane to wipe her eyes and nose against her bound arms. The rough bark dug into her stomach. Caleb suddenly turned and walked away.

“Where you?... Please,” Ruby gasped. “please cut me loose? I can't hardly breathe!”

“When you've learned your place girl,” Caleb said. "When you joyfully honor and obey.”

Ruby looked upside down at his boots stomping back to the campsite. The knots held fast.

“Girl, you stay right where you are,” Caleb said. His voice was as unsteady as the teetering truck.

“My name ain't 'girl' you crazy old man,” Ruby said. She smiled right at him and jumped off the front fender of the truck and landed with the grace of a ballet dancer.

“NOO!” hollered Ester and Caleb together. The truck rocked back until it hit on the rear axle and rested more stable like.

She stood on the road with her arms folded proudly. “My name's Ruby, and don't you forget it.”

She knew she was going to get a beating that night and sure enough, she did, worse than before. Cept it didn't seem near so bad when she remembered the pee-in-his-pants look Caleb had on his face when he thought for sure she had sent him over the Cliff.

Ruby didn't realize she had it better than the young bride in the other car. She also didn't know that young lady left that heavy handed husband when they returned to Parump, Nevada—not Hollywood as it turned out. It was all because of a defiant young girl she met on the road one day.

They would meet again one day, but of course she didn't know that either.

Few mansions in Omaha were as big and grand as the one that stood before me. It was bitter cold with a light snow and a steady wind. A hot humid kitchen, though I dreaded them most other times, seemed a might welcome thing right then.

My job waiting tables at the country club had got me all sorts of work at big parties and weddings. I'd even quit my job at the flour mill. My Pa and Bill laughed at me whenever I left the house in my tuxedo lookin' waiter get-up. I didn't pay them no heed though. They knew I was bringing in more money than they were.

I never stopped thinking of Charlotte. It had been over two years since I'd seen them beautiful eyes at the train station, but they were like a painting in my mind. I was losing hope I'd ever see her again. She probably went back to wherever she came from on that fancy rail car.

The butler began shouting as soon as I walked in the back entrance and stomped the snow off my boots. He seemed to have it in for me the rest of the night, working me harder than any of the other waiters.

“I don't like the look of this one,” He said in a haughty English accent every time I entered the kitchen. I began to get nervous and started dropping things, forgetting things, and he just yelled at me more. I didn't much like the look of him either, though I couldn't say exactly why.

It didn't take him long to decide who to send to the chicken barn when a kitchen maid dropped a whole tray of eggs. Me of course, not the clumsy girl who'd broken them.

I reached for my coat in the closet.

“If you're going to take so long as to require a parka, you needn’t return,” said the butler.

Tempted as I was, I left my jacket on it's hook and headed out into the cold.

I had barely made it halfway to the barns when I saw a figure trodding and limping through the snow and falling down every few feet. I thought it was strange, but kept my appointment with the chickens until I heard it during a lull in the wind.

Crying.

“Hey there,” I yelled when I got closer. “You okay?”

The woman reeled around nearly falling again in her surprise. I raised the lantern high, but she was too far away, I could only see her outline against the snow in the moonless night.

“Ma'am, Should you ought to be someplace warm? This weather could kill a steer.”

The woman backed away from me, soon falling again. She got up and ran towards nothin' in particular it seemed.

“Wait, why you running? I'm only trying to...” I darted after her.

“Go away, you can't stop me, I must find her.”

“All you're gunna find out here is your death lady.”

I caught up to her and spun her around to me. All I could see was a flurry of fists mixed in with the snow.

“Hey now! Just wait a minute.”

“Leave me be!”

She turned and tried to run again. Before I knew what had happened I had grabbed the poor girl and hoisted her over my shoulder. All I could do really. She wasn't about to listen to reason and with one hand on my lantern I couldn't figure another way to get her to safety.

“You'll freeze! No kiddin', this cold will kill you... and me, if we don't ”

“No! Let me down!”

Her fists pounded my back as I carried her towards the closest structure I knew wouldn't get fired for entering with a thrashing woman on my shoulder: the barn.

I set her on a wood bench and held her down for a good minute while she struggled to get up. I kept my head down. Though I had her arms under control, her head was thrashing every which way.

“Leave me be! I've got too... She's... I've got to...”

“You gunna promise not to run back out in that cold?”

“No, no!”

“Then we got ourselves kind-of a standoff.”

“A 'standoff' what does that even mean!”

Her fight had tempered some, but I kept a good hold of her and hunkered down low beside her all the same.

“I guess you don't read no cowboy stories do ya.”

"Certainly not!”

“It means as long as you keep fighting and don't promise me on your mother's name not to run, I can't let you go.”

“Well alright then, I promise.”

“You promise what?”

“I promise on my mother's good name, God rest her soul, I will not run out into the cold.”

“Okay,” I said.

I let go of her shoulders and sat back on my feet. She was a young woman, though her face was red and dry from the cold. She brushed her ragged hair from her eyes.

I near fell over and turned white as a ghost.

“Charlotte?” I said.

Continued in Episode 9

The Jewels of Nebraska, Episode 7 -Not a Daughter

Click to start this series from the beginning.

“Oh, there he is!” said Polly.

A figure limped along the road towards the waylaid troupe of players. Janet and Bernard sat on the running board of the long car, sharing a cigarette and singing a song, Kenneth was throwing rocks down the embankment trying to hit a particular tree. Jean Francois stood beside the car, trimming his immaculate eye brows and mustache in the rear view mirror. Jules sat reclined in the third row seat with the door open, one ham-like leg hung out of the car. He occasionally nipped from a flask when no one was looking, though everyone knew. Polly had been picking wild flowers when she saw Herman.

“What's wrong with your leg? I thought you went for help?” Janet said when Herman reached the car and leaned on it for support.

“The leg is the price for what I hope will be good advice. It is thought our trouble is a matter of air mixture and perhaps dust.

“I told you we weren't out of gas,” Kenneth said. He shook the car and put his ear to the open gas inlet.

“Good heaven's boy!” Jules supported himself from slouching further with one arm, while replacing the flask in his vest pocket.

“Kenneth, do you know of this air mixing doodad. It seems we have to give it more air and less fuel.”

“I'm an scenic artist, not a mechanic.”

“You're a stage hand,” said Janet.

“A lazy one,” said Jean Francois.

“You read Jules Vern, that makes you more a mechanic than the rest of us,” said Herman.

“I just know you can fix it Kenneth,” said Polly. She clasped her hands behind her and twisted back and forth causing her skirt to swirl.

“Fine,” Kenneth said throwing one more rock at the tree and missing, “I'll take a look.”

William was so thirsty he had stopped thinking about being hungry. He could hear the stream from the road. It was a long steep gulley. He guided himself along the trees until he reached a bare patch of gravel. He dug his heels in which sent a small avalanche of stones plummeting down towards the bottom of the gulley. One rolled under his foot and soon he was rolling down the side himself, gaining speed and loosing control.

The sun pierced William's vision when he opened his eyes. What had happened? His head hurt and was swimming in dizziness. His hand was lying in the stream. He remembered rolling down the steep slope then... He felt his sore head. It was wet. He looked at his hand.

Blood.

William managed to roll up onto all fours. His mouth was still dry as brown paper. He scooped a couple of handfuls of water from the stream, drank some and washed the blood off his head. He started to drink from his hands again but plunged his face in like and animal and began gulping. It was the best, coolest water he ever tasted. He drank and drank. His gulping and snorting was the sort of thing that would get him walloped by me, his papa, and later his sister. It was when he stopped drinking that he noticed the snorting wasn't coming from him.

He carefully looked up. Across the stream and down some, just a few yards all told, was a mountain of chestnut fur. The bear stopped drinking and looked up as though it could sense William's open jaw. It sniffed the air and snorted loudly. William fell back on his britches and clamored backwards like a crab. The bear walked into the stream towards him.

 

“Don't run ya,” said a voice from the top of the gulley. “Run and she will think you taste better.”

William froze, but did not take his eyes off the bear. The bear froze as well.

“Gud ya, now you stand,” the voice said. “On feet. Go, do.”

William hesitated, the bear's nose probed the air, sniffing.

“Taller eez less tasty. Go do, go do.”

William eased to his feet. He was a might unsteady, what with the incline and his dizziness. The bear took a step back and made a belch-like grunt.

“Gud, now you walk, go.”

William didn't like the idea of turning his back to the bear and climbing up the bank. He liked the idea of going anywhere else even less.

“Where?” William said as loud as he dared.

“To bear. Look eyes ya.”

“Whaaat?”

The bear took a step into the water.

“Go do, look eyes. No run.”

William swallowed and took a step down the slope and another into the stream. The bear backed up onto the opposite bank.

“Gud, gud, keep walk. Look eyes.”

Williams slowly crossed the stream towards the beast. Looking into its small dark eyes. The bear turned on its haunches and lumbered away with a snort.

William started breathing again. He looked up towards the voice. He recognized the large black hat from the man on the road the other day. The bad man, Ruby had called him. William started making his way up the steep bank.

At least he wasn't a bear.

The climb up was arduous. The fall down was quick but the climb up, especially where there were no trees to hang on to, seemed to take forever. When William reached the top. Kohn was sitting in his truck. The passenger door was open. William did the only thing there was to do. He got in.

The man had in his hand a large leaf. Spread on it was a gooey green substance. Kohn handed William the leaf. William looked down at it, dumbfounded. Kohn took the boy's hand and brought it up to the wound on his head.

“OOOW!”

The green goo burned against the bloody spot high on his forehead. William allowed his hand to drop but Kohn plastered it back.

“Ow.”

William noticed a rifle sticking up from behind the seat.

“Why didn't you shoot him? I coulda been kilt.”

Kohn started the engine and clicked off the parking brake. He had shifted through the gears before he bothered to respond.

“Walking towards bear eez work better than gun ya. Mato go on and be mato, boy go on and be boy. Eez better.”

“Mato?”

“Ja mean Bear.”

“You injun or somthin?”

“Depending is on who you ask.”

“I'm askin' you.”

“Ya. Born in Sverige, but yes, injun I think, ya.”

Ruby looked at the twine tied to her ankle and the other end tied to the bumper of the truck a few feet from the rock she was sitting on. Caleb muttered to himself and he extracted the tent from the back of the truck. He talked constantly whether or not there was anyone listening 'praise be oh Lord'. He especially couldn't keep his trap shut about Brother Tobias. 'Brother Tobias said this, Brother Tobias said that, Brother Tobias' word, his truth, his disciples, of which Caleb fervently counted himself as one.

'Brother Tobias's, wives.'

They had never even met the man, just answered an ad in a magazine, purchased some books and bibles and written a bunch a letters back-n-forth. They were on there way to live with him in some sort a village or community or somethin.

Ester was sitting in the shade reading the Tobias 'bible'.

Even though it kinda hurt, Ruby made a game of jerking her leg and snapping the twine taut. It made a sound like a washtub bass.

“Quit that girl,” Ester said, “we don't wanna get up Caleb's ire.”

“Why's this thing necessary?” Ruby said giving the line one more defiant tug.

“Girl, you run off three times.”

“'My right. This here's kidnappin.”

“You'd starve out there.”

“Like my brother!”

“Keep your voice, girl. Why you always gotta do evil, you better learn to behave.”

Ruby kept playing with the twine but stopped short before it made a sound.

“Ester, how do you know what's evil and what isn't. Some German killed my papa and that was evil sure enough, but if my papa killed some German girl's papa does that make him evil too.

“God puts a conscience in us to tell us what's evil and what's not. If it feels bad, that means evil is in you, and you should get on your knees and pray for forgiveness.”

“So if it feels good, then it's okay?”

“Good heaven's no girl! That's what is specially evil! You should pray right straight for even thinking such things."

“I ain't yer daughter. You should just turn me loose for the law catches you."

"We answer to God's law and God has told Caleb you belong with him.

It's a shame-n-all you if you got no kids y'own but...”

Ester laughed.

“What'd I say so funny?”

“Girl, You ain't gunna be a daughter.”

Ruby looked puzzled.

“An don't you forget. I'm the one in charge so don't be getting' no ideas otherwise. I had him first girl. I'm the one in charge.”

Ruby felt the blood drain from her face. Suddenly the rope around her ankle felt like a thick, heavy chain. 

She would try again tonight, and this time she could not fail.

Continued in episode 8

The Jewels of Nebraska Episode 6 -One Tear

Click to start this series from the beginning.

I was hard to live with in those days, the spring of 1905. There was only one thing on my mind: Charlotte, the girl from the train station. I fool talked about her to anyone that would listen, poor souls. I tried to find out anything I could about her, but she was behind walls a regular young man like me couldn't see over. Papa and Bill gave me an awful hard time being smitten over a society girl. Bill told the story of my bold introduction over and over to the guys at the flour mill and soon they were funnin' at me too.

I suppose they were right. It was crazy. It's a right fine thing I wasn't sane, not about Charlotte anyhow. Sacks of flour weren't near so heavy when I thought of those hazel eyes.

“Excuse me sir,” I said at the ticket counter.

“You again huh? Listen kid, why don't you just call me Harry.”

“Uh, sure Harry. Say, did you happen to see a girl leave outta here, lotsa trunks, private car maybe...”

“No. No girl left here like that,” Harry adjusted his visor and rubbed his brow, “not with trunks, not in a private car or with a white hat, auburn hair and dreamy hazel eyes.”

“You're sure, you haven't been out sick or nothing?”

“Listen kid, write down your address here.” He handed me a card. “If your dream girl comes through here, I'll send you a telegram, no charge.”

“Gee mister, I mean Harry...”

“On one condition: you don't come round and bother me with this no more.”

I took a night job as a waiter at the Omaha Country Club in the hopes that I might catch a glimpse of her. I saw an a whole lot of hats and gloves, but no Charlotte.

A waiter overhears a lot serving the rich. I got to know who was who and what was what. Some of them people was more depraved than sinnin' workin' folks, if that talk was to be believed. They lied, gossiped, fornicated, and got drunk; they just had prettier words for it.

I listened close for only one word: “Charlotte”.

William's behind was sore from sittin' on the floor of that truck for hours. He felt around the Huette's belongings and was able to work loose a padded embroidered footstool. It said somethin' gospel-like, but he got it under him too quick to do any readin'.

In the front, Ruby rode silently between the Huettes. Caleb went on and on about God's blessings as if he had not struck the girl. She wondered if it really happened.

On a privy break, Ester and Ruby took to the bushes on one side of the road, while Caleb headed off the other. William began to follow.

“Who's gunna watch the truck, praise be oh Lord? Don't worry boy, you'll get your turn.” He disappeared behind a clump of greenery a respectable distance from the road.

The women had returned long before Mr. Huette. Billy wondered if he should just use their side of the road, then he thought of Caleb's temper.

Caleb finally came from the brush, glowing with perspiration.

“Alright boy,” Caleb said wiping his brow.

Billy took him a different path, so he wouldn't run into anything unpleasant. He heard the truck engine start. He wanted to run back, but he was indisposed. I believe that's the polite way to put it. When he heard the engine rev up and pull away, he ran regardless, holdin' up his drawers with one hand.

“Wait! Wait!”

When he reached the road he saw a cloud of dust and the truck growing smaller in it's midst. He ran with all his might but the distance grew. He thought he could hear his sister crying out his name and Mr. Huette's bellowing in return. The truck weaved in the road. The hollering ceased and the truck straightened, shifted into third gear and disappeared over a hill.

He stood frozen in place for a spell, hoping for some thought, some voice from somewhere to tell him what to do. A lone tear streaked down his face. He wiped it quickly away. It was the only one he would allow. He knew he was going to have to become a man, and right quick. The breeze whispered the pines, the buzz of a bee, the call of a bird close by, and one further away. A hawk sounded high overhead.

There was only one direction to go: after his sister, and only one way to get there. William swallowed hard, picked up the small case that Caleb had tossed out of the truck and started walking down the road.

Kohn's stolen truck was running a little better after he stopped and adjusted the carburetor lean to match the thin air. He much preferred traveling by horse, but he had to match the speed of the kids. It had occurred to him that the ten thousand dollars Bodene Kruger was payin' him to bring back a couple kids was the same amount he claimed to be into the family farm, which he would just foreclose on anyway. Why all the trouble for two poor farm kids leavin' town?

Over a hill he saw a figure walking along the road. When he got close the figure turned and waved him down.

“Trouble you have?”

“My car seems to be broken down,” said the man, “about two miles back.”

“Slowly she looses power till she stops and no starts, no?”

“Why yes, that's precisely correct sir.”

“Is no gasoline, is förgasare... where air mix.”

“We go.” Kohn motioned to the large man with the mustache to get in the truck.

“You're a rather large, tall individual,” said Herman. He closed the door and set his silver tipped walking stick between his knees. He glanced at Kohn's thimbles. “And such fascinating attire.”

Kohn let out the clutch and the truck rumbled on. The engine puttered through the gears.

“My name is Herman Jones, I am a theatrical director and proprietor of The Jones Theatrical Review, a company of players. We were on our way to Grand Junction when our auto stalled. What sort of work do you do?”

Kohn's little finger gave the steering wheel one decisive tap.

“I see,” Herman said. “If you ever find yourself out of work my good man, you might consider lending your extraordinary attributes to show business; colorful individual like yourself.”

Kohn shifted in his seat and placed his arm out the window. He allowed himself the indulgence of imagining himself on the stage before a large adoring audience.

“No business of show, my English, not so gud.”

Herman gave half a snicker before he stopped himself. “There are other shows beside the stage. I was thinking, more exactly for you, of the circus.”

Herman reached for his hanky and wiped his face. He noticed something pale blue in the corner of his eye. He slowly turned to see Kohn staring at him with those burning orbs.

“Say there good fellow, I didn't mean any... The circus you see is a fine... Sir, I believe we may just drive off into a tree if you don't turn your attention to...”

Kohn's thimbles began slowly drumming on the wheel. Herman glanced out his window at the passing gravel.

“Shall I just step out then?”

Kohn neither blinked nor wavered. Herman opened his door, tipped his hat, hugged his stick and stepped out of the moving truck. When he hit the ground, he rolled like lop-sided medicine ball. He stood with some difficultly, placed his top hat back on his head, gave his suit vest a couple dusty smacks and began walking, not too evenly, down the road.

It was no easier sleeping the tent and in the cot with Mrs. Huette than it was the first night. All Ruby could think about was her brother William, out there somewhere, alone. Then there was the twine tied to her ankle and tethered to Mr. Huette's on the other side of the tent. She had tried to run off a bunch since they left her brother and Caleb had seen to it. Mrs. Huette would know if she reached down to work on the large knot, and Caleb would be woke up by any pull on the twine. As it was, Caleb had gotten up in the night to do his business, forgotten about the twine in his grogginess and nearly towed Ruby clean off the cot.

Many Miles away, William lie next to a stream. He had no flashlight, no bedroll or blanket, no dinner, and no one to talk to.

The mountains and tall pines around him were only visible as black shadows against stars in the moonless sky. They made him feel small, as did the task before him. Yet, he had followed the tire tracks of the Huette's truck--distinct by the tread being wore on one side more than t'other--for over ten miles. He found some wild blue berries and some grubs to eat and came close to starting a fire. There was a small, but important sense of accomplishment.

He'd taken several pictures with his new camera. He couldn't wait to see how they'd turned out, though he had no idea how to get the pictures out.

Critters moved in the forest around him, how big or how far he could not tell and didn't want to. He might have been scared to death, but he was too busy planning what he was fix'in to do to that Caleb Huette when he caught up to him.

Continued in Episode #7

The Jewels of Nebraska, Episode 5 -Out of Nowhere

To start this series from the beginning.

Ben didn't waste his trip into town without stocking up on supplies. Chicken feed, nails, ax handle, sugar, coffee, beans, salt, flour, soap, and bailing wire. Even though the hay harvest was a ways off, it came in handy for a number of things and he was fresh out.

He was just fixin' to pay when the door of the store rang open so loud both Ben and George behind the counter looked up.

“Call the sheriff,” panted Lukas, “someone just drove off with my truck!”

“Betty says there's no answer,” George said putting the phone back on the hook.

“He was headed up into the pass, fella just got in and drove her off, that truck is as good as gone, fraid.”

“Did you see who took it?” Ben asked.

“Stranger, odd looking man, had silver fingers.”

“Silver what?” said George.

Ben's cheek burned where Nebraska girl had gone and kissed him. He looked out at the wash of daylight coming in through the door.

“Lukas, can to see to my farm for a few days, if I get your truck back?”

“Yeah, sure I 'spose, how few?” Lukas said.

“Week or two at the most. George, hold my order till I get back.”

“Week or two? Hey Ben!”

The screen door of the dusty general store had already slammed.

“That boy get deputized or sumptin?” Lukas said. “He coulda given me a ride home before he ran off.”

Ben's truck began to sputter when the grade in the pass got steep. The gasoline wasn't flowing up hill from from the tank to the engine. He turned the Model T truck around and backed up the hill as fast as he dare, his head stuck out the window and his arm out against the door. It was already getting dark and those headlights weren't going to do much good pointing down hill as they were.

Not a problem we ever had in Nebraska, especially since it wasn't too long ago, most transportation was horse and wagon.

“What'r you lookin at, c'mon I want to get home, I'm starving,” said Bill, my brother.

“You see that girl, the one in white?”

We lifted his trunk into the back of the wagon. I craned my neck to see if she had come out of the train station.

“What girl?” Bill said.

“The one in the private car.”

“Oh my Lord, you've gone looney. You could never even get that girl to look at you, and if she did... Hey, where you goin'!”

“I bet I could,” I said without looking back. I saw her leaving the station with a small army of servants and a cart loaded with trunks and hat boxes stacked-up like a wedding cake. I walked straight towards the procession.

I've never been a particularly brave man, especially when it came to the fairer sex. My mouth would always get too dry for words to come out proper and I would stammer like a fool. I had no reason to think this time would be any different. I was drawn, given a notion that any failure or humiliation would not smart near as bad as if I let her go without... well I wasn't sure what I was going to do. I didn't have any better idea when I stepped in front of her and stopped the whole parade. Several pairs of wide but narrowing eyes stared me down. Her's just remained wide. She was the loveliest girl, the loveliest anything I had ever seen. No sunset, no sunrise, no stained glass window would ever look the same to me.

One of the servants, a butler lookin' sort of fellow cleared his throat. I snapped out of my trance. I removed my hat with speed that forgave its tardiness, but created a small cloud of flour dust. She put her hanky to her face. Her eyes shone like a sparkling lake.

“Excuse me miss,” I began. The butler fellow fumbled for some coins, no doubt to pay a toll past my intrusion. I held up my hand to stop him. “I would like to welcome you to Nebraska. If there is anything, anything I can do for you to make your stay in Omaha more pleasant, my name is...”

“Yes, yes young man, we have all the help we need and the young lady does not desire to be bothered. Off with you then.”

“I will be able to sleep again one day, but only if I knew your name.”

The young woman was taken aback at my inquiry. The butler extended his walking cane and gently brushed me away that the entourage may proceed to their red motor car and accompanying carriage for the overflow of personnel and baggage. I complied but did not take my eyes from her. Her cream skin pinked at my attention as she passed. I stood there, I expect with some sort of fool smile on my face, ignoring the glares from her attendants. She tried to maneuver her immense hat that she might inspect me without my knowing, but I knew.

As the driver turned over the motor. I stepped boldly beside where she was seated. “Please, miss, I am not normally so offensive and forward, your name is all that desire. I must...”

The motor sputtered and idled. The driver took to his seat and released the brake. She looked straight ahead like an arrow that she might be whisked away from this bold stranger, sweat stained covered in flour dust, but her chin lowered as the motorcar throttled up.

“Charlotte” she said.

Her voice was stronger than I had expected. If I wasn't already smitten, I knew I would be haunted by the memory of that beautiful sound forever.

I still am.

The place the travelers stopped to camp was an ideal setting. A flat area not too far from the road and near a stream that had the sweetest water Ruby had ever tasted, once the dust from her lips had been washed away.

Mr Caleb Huette and Billy set up the tent while Mrs. Ester Huette and Ruby prepared dinner. The Huette's were older, almost like grandparents. Ester didn't say much besides a yes or no to Mr Huette's many directives and suggestions on how she might carry them out.

He ended nearly every sentence with “praise be O'Lord.” Ruby took comfort in this at first, but it began to seem odd how he used it for everything. It seemed right enough for: “What a glorious view this is, praise be O'Lord,” but seemed a bit funny following: “Pass me that thermos of coffee Ester, praise be O'Lord,” or especially when he simply passed gas... “praise be O'Lord!”

The insects sounded a chorus outside that was strange to Ruby's ear that night, different bugs in the mountains than the high plains. She recalled Mr. Huette's bible reading by the campfire later on her cot. The bible seemed different too. She didn't know it backwards and forwards like some folks, but what he read... well it didn't sound like any bible readin' she'd ever heard. All that talk of wives.

She had to lie on her side, the cot she shared with Mrs. Huette, thin and frail as she was, only offered her that much room. She wanted to talk, she asked Ester if she had ever been to Hollywood. The woman didn't stir. She listened hard to hear for her breathing to be sure she hadn't died. Sleepin' on the hard floor of a box car was easier.

Billy didn't sleep much better in the back of the truck. Mr. Huette told him to bed down there under the tarp.

My Billy's a good boy, minds his elders, mostly. It wasn't manners this time that cause him to obey without question.

The next day Mr. Huette decided it wasn't very ladylike for Ruby to be ridin' in the back of the truck, that she should set up between them in the front.

“That's alright Mr. Huette, I wouldn't want Billy to get lonesome back there.” Ruby said in a breezy tone.

The slap came out of out of nowhere. Her cheek felt ice cold and and burning hot all at once. She made a furious fist.

“Unclench your hand,” Mr. Huette said.

The world was spinning around her, it was as if the words made no sense.

“Unclench your hand willful girl, an git in the damn truck, praise be O'Lord.”

Ruby placed her case in the back of the truck and walked to the front where Mrs. Huette was already  holding the passenger door for her.

She flinched when Mr. Huette got in on his side and slammed the door.

Continue to the next episode

The Jewels of Nebraska, Episode 4 -A fix

To start this series from the beginning.

William's legs dangled off the tailgate of the truck. The road was dappled stripes of sunlight shining through pines. He looked up the sun through the trees and closed his eyes, still he could feel the sunlight flashing on his face.

Ruby rode up next to Ben.

“Hollywood?” Ben said, “never heard of it.”

“It's where they make the pictures.” Ruby said.

“Pictures of what?”

“Moving pictures silly.”

“I seen a Kino at a nickelodeon once, didn't care for it.”

“Not those, pictures tell a whole story. Plus they have stars.”

“Stars?”

“Surely you heard of Charlie Chaplin.”

“He some sort of preacher?”

Ruby couldn't help but laugh out loud.

“You could stay.” Ben said after a while. “It's just me, lots of room.”

“This place is more podunk than the place I jumped a train to escape. Really pretty though.” Ruby looked up at the trees and the mountains in the distance. “Nah, it's Hollywood for me.”

Up ahead, a man stepped onto the road. His fingertips glistened in a spot of sun. Ben sensed Ruby's tension.

“You know that fella?” he said.

“I sure don't.”

Ben stopped the truck and click off the engine. The tree tops whispered in a breeze that did not reach the ground.

“Mornin'” Ben said to the stranger.

“Your keeds?”

“Y'up, my little brother and sister.” Ben said looking straight ahead. “You missin' some.”

Ruby looked down but held her posture erect that Ben's barrel chest and hat might block her from the stranger's view. Her curiosity got the better of her and she glanced around Ben. A pair of blazing blue eyes hit her from inside the shade of a wide black hat.

“Their mother. Cries she does, cries for her missing babies.” Only his mouth moved. His silver-tipped hands hung at his sides, occasionally twitching as if he were receiving small electric shocks.

“Quite a shame,” said Ben. “hope she finds 'em.”

“Ya, shame.”

Ben touched the brim of his hat and turned over the engine. From the back of the truck, William watched the dark figure recede until they turned a corner.

“I think maybe that man was lookin' for Billy and me,” Ruby said.

“Yeah, I know it,” said Ben.

“Thanks for lyin' for us mister.”

“How many times do I gotta tell you, the name's Ben.”

“Thank you for everything... Ben, feedin' us, putting us up for a couple days,” Ruby said giving his arm a playful hug.

Ruby wished Ben was taking them all the way to California, not just to the next town where he figured he could get them a ride with another family headed West.

El Dorado Springs was a town nestled in a deep valley as if a bunch of miniature houses on a piece of paper had gathered at the center when it was folded in a “V”. The main drag that made up the long slender town climbed into the pass and the mountains on the other side.

There were a number of cars and trucks stacked high with chairs, tables and trunks sometimes children perched at the top of it all like a crow's nest. El Dorado Springs was a good place to stop for supplies before heading into the mountains. It was the only place.

Ben had to leave the truck a quarter mile from where they were headed so they walked down the dusty street.

“Why didn't you say nuthin' to that man Ruby?” Billy said. “What about Mama? he said she's cryin'.”

“You know Mama ain't cryin' for us. She barely knew we was there, how's she gunna know we're gone from that asylum. That man is a bad man William, just like at the picture shows. He even got a black hat. We're on our own now, we don't have a Mama and Papa no more.”

Billy didn't argue with his sister but his fists were clenched. A tear rolled down his cheek, he wiped it quickly away.”

“I'm lost of my parent's too.” Ben said quietly after a while.

“You an orphan?” said Billy.

“I'm twenty-two. My father died when I was 'bout your age, but I was already grow'd up when my Mama got sick. That ain't an orphan, far as I know.”

In the general store Ben stopped each person who looked like a traveler, which meant anyone he didn't didn't recognize readily.

“Sir, do you have any room for a couple kids in your car to take over the pass and possibly to California? They're without kin and need to make it to their Uncle's.”

“We got no room. Especially fer orphans.” A red-haired man said. A red haired girl hid behind him. She stuck her tongue out at Ruby.

He repeated the plea to many travelers without hint of luck. No one wanted more mouths to feed, no one had room for kids that weren't theirs.

“I'm not very convincing I guess,” Ben said.

“You look like a farmer, and you're doin' it all wrong.” She straightened his collar, licked her hand and smoothed his hair.

“I am a farmer, don't fuss o're me.”

“If we're going to get a ride from a nice Christian family... That's it, you need to use the word 'Christian'. And don't be talkin' to the men, ask the women folk. Go like this,” Ruby turned her face into sadness and worry. “Excuse me kind madam, could you find it in your Christian heart to give these two poor orphan children assistance getting to their Uncle in California or even just through the mountains?”

“That's really good. You're good at that.”

“Nobody’s going to listen to a girl. We need an advocate.”

“Avo-cat, what's that?”

“Someone to speak on our behalf, an adult. You gotta do it.”

Ben started to replace his hat.

“No, no silly, hold your hat in front of you, like this.” She took his hat and held it by the brim with both hands in front of her. “Now go try again.”

Ben hobbled through his speech with Ruby standing just behind him looking sad an pathetic.

“Kid's? said one lady. I only see the one.”

“Where's Billy?”said Ruby looking around the busy store.

William's feet clomped on the wooden sidewalk. He passed by the different shops, and motor repair/gasoline stations. He was sad and all those people were making him sadder. Something he saw in a store front made him stop in his tracks. There were cameras of all sorts. Large plate cameras on tall wooden tripods, purse-size cameras that folded out with black bellows and small Brownies, 'bout the size of a pound of butter. Inside the store was all sorts-a camping and outdoor gear, tents, outdoor wear. There was a man at the counter talking to the shop keeper.

“Well if you can't fix it, I guess I'll have to buy a new one.”

“I have a Brownie Three, it's the newest of this type.” the shop keeper took one of the square boxy cameras from the glass display case.

“Five dollars.”

“Five dollars? I bought this other one for four in Chicago.”

“This a long way from there.”

“I guess so.”

“Say mister,” William found the courage to say, following the customer out of the shop.

“Yes son?”

“What are you going to do with that camera?”

“Take pictures of the mountains, and my family.”

“No, the broken one.”

“Throw it away I guess.”

“Could I have a look at it?”

“Sure thing sonny, you can have it if you'd like.”

“Gee, thanks mister.” Billy took the black box and turn it over in his hands. He sat right there on the walk examining every side and feature.

Even when he was only five, my son showed a certain aptitude fer fix'n this and that. After my death he was repairing all sorts of things.

He soon found the release and separated the cardboard camera into it's two sections. He could see how the film went from the top, down around the back and to a little roller at the bottom. The roller had come apart from one side. He maneuvered it back into place and turned the winding knob. It looked to be fixed.

Billy saw the man across the street gathering his family into their car. He ran across, dodging honking cars.

“Say mister!”

“Yeah sonny?”

“I fixed your camera. See, works fine now.” Billy handed the camera back to him.

“It appears I met you ten minutes too late young man. I've already got a new camera. It was good of you to fix it and offer it back though.” The man took out his billfold and handed William a dollar. “Get yourself some film, take some pictures of your old ma and pa. It's not hard, just look at that little window in the top and click the little lever on the side.

William pretended not to be sad at the thought of his 'old ma and pa'. “Thanks mister.”

Billy looked back at the camera store and at the dollar in his hands. My son was in a fix himself now.

“Billy! Where you been?” Ruby scolded. “Ben found us a ride with a nice Christian couple going through the mountains.”

Ben hoisted Ruby into the back of the truck. Billy had already found a spot to sit amongst the furniture. He got his new camera out of his satchel. He was excited about his new treasure but felt guilty he had spent his dollar on having the man at the store load his camera with film.

“Well... I guess we'll seeing you.” Ruby said. Holding on to Ben's hand in a long handshake.

“Yup, I guess,” said Ben without lookin' up from the ground.

The motor started. The dust beneath the exhaust pipe stirred. Ruby leaned out of the back of the truck and kissed Ben on his cheek. Ben turned red. He didn't look up until the truck was pulling away.

“I ain't so skinny you know.” She called back to him with a smile.

Continued in episode 5