Duster (9781310020889) (27 page)

Hogan was swamping out his store when I got
there, which was an almighty surprising thing being as there was
few women around so smelly a town and most menfolk don't much mind
standing in a little filth when they shop.

"Hey, Duster," he said, setting his mop
aside like he was ready for an excuse to quit. "Don't tell me now.
Sam went an' fired you and you come here looking for a job cleaning
up the place."

"Nossir, not exactly, but I'd be willing to
do it ... in swap for them boots you showed me yesterday."

"Um. That job'd come a mite dear if I agreed
to that. I don't think I can do 'er, but I can't blame you for
trying."

I got off the steeldust and went inside,
careful not to track across the wet spots where he'd been mopping.
"Could I take another look at them boots anyway?"

"You sure can, boy." He put the mop and
bucket out of sight and rummaged under the counter again to find
the boots.

"They're good boots, boy," he said and
handed them over.

He was right that they looked to be a sound,
sturdy pair of boots. The leather was rough, not smooth polished
and pretty like some, but there wasn't any gouges or scars showing,
and they looked to be sewed good and tight with real linen thread
instead of the twine Mister Soames had used to make my shoes.

They was of the old style too, loose fitting
and round-toed instead of the tight, pointy vaquero kind that was
so snappy looking and was getting to be so popular among cowhands.
Not that I could hold the style too much against them, they being
so cheap and all.

"If you've come into a little more cash,
boy, and I figger you have else you wouldn't be here admiring these
boots, you just might take a look at this pair." Hogan fetched a
box from behind him and pulled out a pair of rough leather boots
made in the new way and a whole lot prettier to me. "I could let
you have these for a good buy too, though not so good as them
others."

I didn't really want to, but they were
neater looking, more modern like, and I just had to ask. "How
much?"

"Eleven dollars even," he said. "Just four
dollars more than those mud waders."

I guess I twitched a little for I couldn't
help thinking about it, and Hogan must of known for sure then that
I could find some more money did I need it.

"It's just good business practice so I know
you won't mind if I show you another pair that'd go nice on your
feet." He hauled out yet another box and set a pair of dark brown,
polished vaquero boots on the counter. "These'd go good with your
hat and I could let you have these for, oh, fourteen dollars and
twenny-five cent."

"I couldn't afford anywhere near that," I
told him while I looked over all three pair.

When I got right down to
it I could have afforded any of the three of them, but I wouldn't
of felt right about buying that fancy pair for $14.25. Yet thinking
about it some more that $11
for the
vaquero kind didn't seem much next to $14.25, and—it took me a
minute to work it out—if I took the odd $7.50 from my poke I'd have
a total of $12.90 to spend so I could afford the vaquero boots easy
enough. I'd even have $1.90 left over after I bought the real sharp
looking boots.

I picked them up one at a time and turned
them over in my hands, looking at them close to see if I could find
any flaws in them so I could make a try at getting Hogan to knock
the price down some. I couldn't find a single one, but I wasn't
real unhappy about that for it meant they was a well-made pair of
boots. I could just imagine how they'd feel and, more, how they'd
look on my feet.

When I had put them down again Hogan set
them back in their box and winked at me. "Should I set them aside
for you or do you want to wear them back to camp?"

"Oh, I haven't that much money. Not right in
my pocket, I mean. But I can get it later."

"All right then, I'll set them back on the
shelf. Don't worry ... I won't sell them to nobody else."

"That's mighty fine of you."

"It's all right, boy. You and your saddle
partner are good customers. Glad to oblige you any way I can."

"Thanks."

Hogan set the box on a shelf behind him and
I started to drift toward the door. On the way out, though, my eye
hit something that stopped me short. There near the door I saw
another counter against the wall. And on it was spread out a lot of
woman's truck. Little baubles made of glass and fancy combs and
looking glasses with handles on them.

They caught my eye and stopped me cold. What
I mean is that they set me to thinking all over again. But this
time I wasn't thinking about how nice them boots would look on my
feet. This time I was thinking about how little Ma and the small
fry had ever had in the way of pretties.

Here I already had me a
spanking new hat and a new pair of store-bought britches and I
hadn't yet bought them a thing. And if I bought a pair of
eleven-dollar boots I wouldn't
have but
$1.90 left over and that wouldn't be enough to take presents home
for the rest of the family. Seeing those geegaws seemed to point
out that I'd been planning some awful selfish spending with money
that rightfully belonged to the whole family.

I did some quick refiguring in my head and
realized I could get those seven-dollar boots and have even more
money left over than I already had in my pocket right then and
could use that to buy some stuff for the family.

But then, to do that, I'd really be taking
money away from the family and not even so much as spending it for
them. The more I thought on it the less fair it looked.

I looked down at my feet and saw the toes of
my shoes sticking out in front of those new jeans. Those shoes
weren't so pretty but they was still in good enough shape to wear
for a good while. I could still recall how proud and happy I'd felt
when I first got them and knew they were brand-new and made for me
and had never been wore by anyone else. My shoes weren't really bad
at all.

"Mister Hogan, I guess I won't be buying
them boots after all. Nor the seven-dollar ones neither. I'm sorry
to of bothered you so."

"Sure thing, boy, and it wasn't any bother.
Any time. I'm always happy to show my goods."

"Well. If...uh...if you wouldn't mind then
could I look at some other stuff. Maybe something to carry home as
presents."

Hogan grinned. "Heavens, yes, boy. That's
the nicest kind of merchandise to show."

Hogan and me flat dug into his stock of
goods then. Between the pair of us we must of laid hands on one of
everything he had, and I know we came back to some things two and
three times.

In the end we had quite a
pile assembled. There was a tortoise shell comb for Ma's hair, a
grass rope for Tom who'd soon be big enough to work cattle and so
would need a rope of his own, a folding pocketknife for Johnny, a
tin whistle for Little Bo, and a baby doll, a real one with a china
head and
china hands, for Molly since
she'd never had one except what could be fashioned from dried corn
shucks and scraps left over from the sewing.

"Whatdya think now, boy? Will these do
it?"

"Yessir, they surely should. Just what I
needed."

"Good." Hogan seemed as pleased as me about
the selections. In fact he had argued with me plenty over a couple
of things I'd wanted to get, and I'd argued right back at him on
some others he'd wanted me to take. What we ended up with was a
pile that satisfied the both of us.

"How much do I owe you, Mister Hogan?"

"Let's figure it up and see." He got out a
pen and ink and some paper and began to tote it up. "There's the
comb, for $2.35. The doll for $2.00. The knife for $1.15. The rope
with leather hondo for fifty cents. And the whistle is fifteen
cents. All that comes to, uh, $6.15, right?"

"Uh-oh."

"Too much?"

"Yessir, it is."

"Urn. That presents a problem, boy. And
after we worked so hard to pick out just the right things."

"I guess we'll just have to cut back on the
things that come dear. Find something cheaper than the doll for
Molly, for instance."

"I'd hate to do that. You said she's never
had a real doll before. A little girl had ought to have a proper
doll while she's still little enough for it to be special."

"There ain't much else to cut, sir. I'm set
on that comb for Ma."

"Um, yes." He thought for a second. "How
much money you got, boy?"

"Five dollars an' forty cents, sir."

”Um." He snorted and pinched his nose and
looked down at the floor instead of me. "Um. Give me five dollar,
boy," he said in a rough voice like he was getting mad at me.

"I'm not trying to run your price down, sir.
Honest I'm not."

"I never said you was, and
if I thought it for one second
I'd never
have brought it down. Now, give me the five dollars and go on about
your business before I do get mad at you."

I started to speak but he cut me short. "Not
another word, boy. And if you go all blathery with a lot of silly
thank-yous I'll change my mind."

"Yessir," I said and dug out my
half-eagle.

Hogan put the stuff in a cloth sack and gave
it over to me. On the way out the door with it I stuck my head back
in and shouted back to him. "Thanks, Mister Hogan. Thanks a lot."
He grinned and waved at me to get lost.

"JESUS. DUSTER. THE rest of the boys are
going into town for one last party before we head for home. I'd
like you two to take the remuda on south a mile or so to fresh
grass and hold them there. We'll join you in the morning and all
start home together."

He smiled at us when he said it so we'd know
it wasn't because he was mad at us about anything. "You won't mind
will you, Jesus?"

"No, Senor Sam. I lost 'most everything I
had playing on the blanket las' night."

"So I heard," Mister Sam said with a grin.
"What about you, Duster?"

"Nossir. You know I'm about broke too," I
told him. I'd showed off my sack full of presents to him the night
before, and he had seemed to approve. "Do you want us to take the
mules and Bill's cooking gear with us?"

"No. He'd never let any of his things out of
sight. And anyway he will want to stock up on supplies for the trip
home. You boys just hold the horses together until we get back.
That shouldn't be a hard job for two good riders."

"Hokay, Senor Sam. You can count on us."

"All right then, get to it. We'll see you
tomorrow."

Jesus and me got our things together, this
time remembering to take my soogan and some food and a water bag,
and we watched Mister Sam and Ike and Bill and the rest of the boys
ride off to town. Then we collected the horses and started them
drifting south toward the way home.

"Jesus?"

"Yeah?"

"Something just come to me. Up until last
night you had a heap of cash money left in your jeans, right?"

"Sure. Why?"

"Well, here we are—the two of us settin' off
together overnight, carryin' my soogan with us to share."

"Uh-huh. So?"

"So the way you kick and snort and carry
on—and I oughta know after sharin' with you most of the time—why in
this world didn't you buy a blanket from Hogan when you had the
chancet?"

He let out a great big sigh and shook his
head. "These gringos just ain't got no sense of fun. Now tell me,
Duster my fren', why should I buy for three dollars a blanket from
Senor Hogan when I can get my aunt or mebe a cousin to make one for
free as soon as my cousin Ramon has some sheep of his own to grow
the wool. An' anyway, it is more fun to try the gamblin' an' hope
for a whole lot of money than to spend it all and not have anything
left for the gamblin', eh?"

"No, I guess I don't understand you no
better than you understand me about stuff like that." We rode on
for a little while and then I asked another question. "They's
something else has got me curious."

"Hokay, what is it?"

"I've noticed here lately that you speak
American real good—except sometimes. There's times you sound like
you just waded the river."

Jesus managed to look both smug and sly. "It
comes an' goes."

"Depending on what?"

"Well…mostly on who's
around an' what they expect
to hear.
Course, I forget sometimes which is supposed to be which, depending
on what kind of mood I'm in."

"Hmmff. You sure must not have much of an
opinion of me then if you don't even bother to lie about it, much
less to speak bad English when I'm around."

"What makes you think I'd wanta have any
opinion about you, anyway?" he asked with a big grin.

There wasn't much I could say to that, not
without leaving myself open to be cut down, but it made me feel
good. When I thought about it a bit it come to me that I'd made a
friend on this trip. In fact I guessed there was several other
fellows I could think of as being friends of mine, fellows like Ike
Partley and Digger Bill and Crazy Longo, and that is something
pretty nice for someone who'd never really had a friend before. I
smiled back at him and kept my mouth shut lest I go overboard about
it and say something that'd sound sissy.

"This's about far enough, ain't it?" Jesus
said after a time. We had come a ways further than Mister Sam had
said but they'd be able to find us easy enough.

"Sure, this looks all right," I said peering
around us. "Not much grass. No water. Probably snakes and spiders
to sleep with. Yeah, it's the best thing we seen or are likely to
see until we get back down toward Nueces Bay."

Jesus lifted his pony up to a lope and moved
around in front of the bunch to turn them in a circle and get the
horses settled.