We have been riding for an awful long time, and I am writing Michael every time we stop. I have also writ a letter to Missus Moriarty and Harris, and I was thinking of writing to Peter but I don’t know that we are friends anymore, since I got quarrel with Samuel. I imagine Margaux will be half through having her baby now and is probably swelled up. I thought that would make me happy, to imagine it, but I miss her fierce.
First few days we was out, Aubrey didn’t talk much and I ain’t in the mood for speaking either, so it was dull and lonesome. Then by the time we got ourselves to Nevada, the earth started turning red and reaching high for the sky. When we camped at night, I begun to miss all my old folks for different reasons, not ‘cause I wanted to go back but I wished they could of seen how splendid it was. Aubrey got a fire going and I cooked up mysteries, and we sat by the warm and watched the sun go down behind the hot red rocks and the sky was so clear I could see the stars out even at twilight. Aubrey had brung books to read. He was real fond of reading. I hadn’t figured him for that, but he got a quick mind and a keenness for letters. The book he was reading was The Heir of Radclyffe, which he said was a woman’s book but he gone through everything else he got. I didn’t know what made a woman’s book or a man’s book, so I asked him. Aubrey said women’s books is about folks dealings with other folks, specially if they got a lot of strong feelings, and men books are about folks dealing with nature and God and such. I told him if he didn’t care to read about strong feelings he oughtn’t, and not to complain, but he said he got nothing better to do since I ain’t up to entertaining him like usual.
How often you usually entertained? I asked. I was laid out on my bedroll, drawing a picture of the land for Michael.
Often as I got coin for it, he said. Once a day, two or three times if I’m flush.
Don’t that wear you out? I said.
Shoot, he said. Raises my spirits.
I kept drawing and he kept reading. Then I said, How old was you? First time?
First time, what? he said.
When you was entertained, I said.
He grunted and turned a page. Quit having a run on me, he said.
I ain’t! I said. How old?
Aubrey didn’t look up but he said, You was the first.
I stopped moving my pencil and turned to stare at him. He got one leg bent up holding his book, and his hat off. The sky was light purple behind him. It was nice out here, not devil hot but a pleasant sort of warm. But you was grown, I said.
I busied myself with other trouble meantime, Aubrey said. He turned a page.
Oh, I said. Well, I said. You wasn’t half-bad.
You wasn’t half-bad yourself, he said. But he smiled to hisself.
Didn’t you fancy any girls before? I said.
Course, he said.
Did you love any of them? I said.
He sighed and put his book down. Goddamn, he said. A fellow can’t enjoy no silence.
I’m just askin’ about you, I said. Being friendly.
No, he said. I ain’t loved no girls before. I thought some was pretty. That’s all.
I put my paper down, too. Then I rolled over on my side to look at him. Which ones did you like? I said. You got any particulars?
Aubrey said, That’s like pickin’ a best horse. They all got their own perks.
You sure are romantic, I said, but he ignored me. Aubrey said, I fancied one when I was mighty young. She was a maid.
Did she work at your house? I said.
What money you thought I was brung up in? Aubrey said, surprised. I was poor as this dirt. Aubrey chuffed, and rubbed his beard. It had grown back some since Shiloh. No, he said. She worked near where my ma did.
I waited to see if he was gonna tell me bout the maid, but he kept rubbing his beard and looking off toward the sunset. So I sighed and said, I’m done. You are a lost cause for good jawing.
Aubrey said, I ain’t got cause to jaw. When he got tired of rubbing his beard, he took his hat off and smoothed his hair. He got a pipe out and smoked, and I started drawing my picture again. I was getting flustered because the pen ain’t doing what I wanted. I wished I got some watercolors for all the colors. I wondered if they would have paints down in Mexico City.
The smoke of Aubrey’s pipe was making me cough. Move, I said. That’s soiling my lungs.
Aubrey said, Makes your lungs strong, what it does. He took it from his mouth and passed it to me. Go on, he said. Suck it down.
No, I said. I said, That stinks like a stable.
You give it a go, he said, I’ll answer what questions you got.
I doubt that, I said, but I took the pipe anyhow and put the tip in my mouth. It burned when I breathed in, and I coughed harder, taking it back out and feeling my eyes teared up. Smoke came out my nose. I Dad, I said when I could talk. You got offensive habits.
Keep at it, he said. You’ll favor it.
I argued with him but finally I tried sucking in again, and it was just as loathsome as the first time, and made me cough worse. Here, I said, giving him his pipe back. I ain’t never gonna be a smoker, I said.
You ain’t smoking or drinking or whoring, he said. You got yourself a dry life.
More to life than that, I said.
Aubrey said, Tell me somethin’.
I shrugged. I don’t know, I said. But I reckon there is.
I laid back down and he smoked his pipe till it was done, then cleaned it and put it back in his pocket. I was thinking of what question to ask him. So finally I said, Why you shoot that man?
Which one? Aubrey asked, putting his book in his bag.
The one on the buggy, I said.
Goddamn, he said. I got personal recrimination with that fellow.
I thought it was ‘bout McCabe, I said.
What ain’t McCabe tied to, he said. We’re sides of a same coin.
Aubrey got a strange look on his face. I seen him one time, he said. McCabe. Seen him up close. Could of touched him. I got a thought that I was going to. Then he breathed in and out. His eyes was fierce but I could tell he was thinking deep. He looked to me. Sophie, he said.
Yes, I said.
You true to me? he said.
I thought the answer was yes, but just to be sure, I said, What do you mean?
I mean, he said, I got your loyalties.
I’m stuck with you, I said. If that’s what you’re asking. Then I said, I ain’t a double cross and I ain’t never turned on you. And I wouldn’t never. That’s my honest word.
Aubrey nodded. I got a thing weighing my heart, he said. I ain’t spoke on it before.
Tell me, I said, curious.
Harriet ain’t died natural, he said. McCabe’s men paid a call to her. He clenched his jaw tight but his eyes was still clear and hard. Then he nodded again, small. That’s what letter I got, he said. Telling me what they done. He looked down at his hands. They ain’t just kilt her, he said, real low. They shamed her first.
I remembered that day he got the mail bout her, and how I come in with my gun, fixed on ending him till he ain’t even fought back, just sat there sick with misery. Aubrey kept nodding, then looked away up at where the night was coming up, and I got off my bedroll and sat beside him. I put my arm around his neck. He didn’t touch me but he ain’t stopped me from touching him neither. I done some bad kills, Aubrey said finally. But that man in the buggy, he ain’t one of them. If I’d of had me more time, I’d of gutted him.
There others? I asked.
Three more, he said. I got them tracked.
We sat there a moment, then I put my head on his shoulder. It was solid and rough. I wished I could of got close to him then but I didn’t know how. I knew there got to be something more than laying that stuck two people together but I couldn’t figure it. So I reached out and took his hand and said, This your trigger finger?
It is, he said.
I pressed my lips against it. He watched. For luck, I said.
He clenched and unclenched his hand, and nodded again. Obliged, Aubrey said low.
Our fire had near gone out. We watched the flames flicking up towards the sky. Which was a bad kill? I said. The other ones you done.
Aubrey gave it thought. First, he said. Third, too. Kilt one over a dropped nickel.
I said, Some old men was preaching that bout a year back. I thought they was addle-headed.
No, he said. That’s gospel.
You feel badly on it? I said.
Aubrey said, Just a waste, is all. Then he leant forward and poked our fire with a stick.
What’s the papers about? I said. The ones you got from the man.
I ain’t airing all business, he said. You heard plenty for a night.
Fine, I said. I was glad he had told me bout Harriet, at least. I watched him tend the fire, and then I thought of something else. You said McCabe wouldn’t hang me, I said. You said he didn’t string up women.
He don’t, Aubrey said. I ain’t said he won’t kill you. McCabe got women’s blood on his hands, know that. He blew on a ember, then waited. He said, He ain’t doing it for crowds, is all.
What about you? I said.
Me? Aubrey said. He’s fixed to string me up in a parade. He’s banked on catching me.
He won’t, I said.
Aubrey was quiet again. Then he said, I’m awful tired. He went over to his bedroll and laid down. He didn’t speak much for three days after. I guess he said his part.
-
We brung a map but it is still mighty hard to tell where we’re headed. Aubrey had his sights sets on a town called Norfort that weren’t even marked, but he said if we found it, we could head straight south till we hit water, and we’d of made it to Mexico. I thought you could hit Mexico if you went south anywhere, but when I asked Aubrey he said some of the shores was still American, and you could swim right past Mexico altogether if you wasn’t paying attention. I asked why we had to stop at Norfort and Aubrey said he had money stowed there. In a bank, no less. I said that was mighty curious, being that he was a bank robber hisself, but he said it gave him peace knowing he could always get it if need be.
Most of these towns looked near the same, but Norfort was cleaned up nice. There wasn’t no tobacco spit on the walls, or horse cakes in the street. They had some men walking around and whistling and making sure everything was sparking. The bank was fancy, too, and they didn’t give Aubrey no hassle bout taking his money out. He had eight thousand and seven hundred dollars there, which was an undreamed of sum of money, and I near dropped my jaw on the floor when they said it. Aubrey said he would take out three thousand five hundred, and he thanked them real friendly when they passed it to him in a bag. Then he got a fellow to stable our horses and sent a telegram to someone. I didn’t know who it was but he seemed reliefed after it was sent. Where can we get eats? he asked the telegrapher, who said, You and your man ought to go to Hester’s. They got ribeye.
I opened my eyes wide. I ain’t never been called a man before. Aubrey gave me a side-eye and chuckled. Preciate it, he said, and when we got outside, I said, I don’t look like a fellow!
You got fellow’s clothes, Aubrey said. You’re dusted.
My hair, I said.
Injuns keep it long, he said. Even men.
I frowned. Aubrey looked at me, still grinning, and said, Don’t get sore. You want a dress?
No, I said. I like my duds.
So, he said. Quit your bellyaching. He stretched, then waved me over. Let’s have us a men’s night, he said. Ribeye and whores.
I didn’t cotton to whores but that ribeye sounded fine, so we went to Hester’s and had us meat and potatoes and sweet tea. I was dreadful hungered after living on bread for so many days so I asked if we could have seconds for our meal, and Aubrey said get what I like while his mood was perked. So I got apple cakes, pork ribs, and beans with rice. Aubrey asked for some ginger beer. I tasted his when he got it and it was sweeter than most other beers. He said it was mostly sugar water but with a kick, and it helped wash down a meal. Then he ordered us a finisher of macaroons. I was busting with food but it was tasty.
Then he asked the cook where they got painted cats, and the cook said there ain’t none gone public, but if we got a room at Miss Beaton’s, she would find us some dates. Even the cook ain’t knowed I was a girl. I Dad.
Aubrey paid our supper and said we was headed for Miss Beaton’s. I said I would find another sleep spot. Whores got no interest for me. He said we ought to get rooms next to each other, anyhow, and if we got to ride off early he ain’t trying to find me elsewhere. We bickered some but I went with him to Miss Beaton’s at the end. We near always did what he wanted at the end, seemed like.
I reckoned Miss Beaton’s would be a sold up place but I was wrong. That inn was fancified. We got us two rooms next to each other, and my room got a big white bed with posts like Margaux’s and a fluffy quilt. All the furniture in the room was cleaned up shining. I walked around, feeling nervy, wondering if I would break something accidental or dirty up their sheets. Aubrey followed me into my room first, and he said, Please you?
It’s blamed nice, I said.
Costs a penny, Aubrey said, looking at the vanity in the corner. I got hopes the girls are first-rate, too.
He went off and I walked around my room. It was bigger than the one I got back on the farm. There was a glass door going on a balcony, and another solid door next to it. I didn’t know what it was. There wasn’t closests in the inns, usual, just chests. But when I opened the door up, I seen a big white wash basin and a sink and a toilet. I gasped. It was the prettiest wash room I ever seen, and it was all for me.
They didn’t have indoor water at the sink or tub but the toilet worked like the one in Iowa. I went down and asked if they would draw me a bath, so they sent up some maids with hot water from the downstairs furnace and got it all filled. They brung me clean towels and soap, too, so I stripped myself down and got in the bath soon as I got privacy. I dropped down in the water so my bosoms was covered, and I closed my eyes, thinking this weren’t quite as good as laying but ranked just below it.
I cleaned myself off and played in the water. Then, when I got out, I wrapped myself up in the towels to dry. I could hear some talking in Aubrey’s room. He must of got a strumpet in there with him. I lit a candle, and put my night shift on since it was the cleanest thing I got. Then I got under the bed covers.
I watched the candle flicker and listened to next door. There was some footsteps going around and then laughing, and the girl said, Oh, my. They laughed some more. I heard paper come out, and I guessed it money. Then I heard Aubrey’s belt clattering while he unlatched it. I been familiar with that noise. Every morning and night I got to hear it when he was in stages of dress. There was more bodies moving. Then some sounds. They was almost like kissing but not quite. I had been guilting myself out of sinful thoughts on account of still being hitched to Amos, but I couldn’t help but listen.
I waited because I was sure I’d hear his headboard banging soon, but a few minutes went by and there was some more kissing sounds, then sounds of clothes, and Aubrey’s belt went back on. I heard her say, That’s generous, and then the door opened and shut. I wondered what had gone on. I walked over to my own door and opened it a crack to peek out, and saw a high-falutin’ calico queen walk by. She was near as pretty as Margaux, with yellow hair and a curvy figure. She ain’t look nothing like the slommacks I seen back in the city.
Aubrey opened his door, too, after she passed by. He was still fixing his pants. He looked up and seen me in my shift. I thought you was sleeping, he said.
No, I said. I’m ‘bout to.
We was alone in the hallway. I leant against my doorframe and said, What was you doing in there?
That your business? he asked. His cheeks was flushed.
I stared at him a moment, then I shrugged and went back in my room. I laid in bed and blew out the candle, closing my eyes. I heard more women come in his room and his belt coming on and off, and finally some thudding of a bed or of some sort of furniture, but I was too worn to care much. I drifted to sleep. I had a dream that he came in middle of the night, and crawled into bed with me. I felt his hands go over my body and his breath on my neck, and I woke up feeling real flustered and ornery. I got up out of bed and walked next door, peeking in on him, but he was passed out between two unshucked whores. He got an arm slung over one, and the other was holding his loaded pistol. He was dark as me under his clothes. His back was brown as sand. There was pipes and laudanum bottles erewhere. I stood there a moment, and Aubrey yawned and opened one eye. I didn’t say nothing. We just looked at each other, then I went back in my room, feeling awful unsatisfied and lonesome.
-
Aubrey got word that Dan Levi was going to be at a trade station in Arizona so we went out to see if it was true. If Aubrey ever tells me all the things he knows, I am most curious as to how he gets news so quick. He must got eyes and ears everywhere. So we rode down there and we was having a nice time, as it were, taking in our sights. I had drawed some more pictures for Michael and I had done one for Missus Moriarty, too, and mailed them all. Aubrey was reading me his woman book which has got lots of good and evil things in it besides romance. I think it is a fine story, and Aubrey’s voice is pleasant when he ain’t angered.
Then we got to our trade station and Dan Levi is waiting outdoors, fall down drunk and stinking like he was using his pants as a outhouse. I hated him first sight. I truly did. If folks can say they is falling in love at first sight than I am sure you can fall in hate with a man. I am writing it down here because I am tired of saying it aloud and nobody is taking me serious when I do say it. But I hate him. Dan ain’t a thing like Aubrey, asides from the badness. First off, he is lank as a tree switch, and he’s got bad teeth and brown hair that ain’t been warshed in I ain’t know how long. He don’t smoke but he drinks like a fish, and nothing but foul slate comes from his mouth. When Dan first seen me he asked if I was Aubrey’s woman, and I said I wasn’t before Aubrey could answer. Dan said, I ain’t asked you, and then spit at my feet. I was too startled to do nothing. Then Dan laughed real nasty and said, Guess you ain’t, then, or I’d of passed in my chips. How much a poke?
A poke? I said, and Aubrey said, She ain’t a mauk.
Well, shit, what you good for then? Dan said. Why we draggin’ you round?
Why we draggin’ you round? I said. You’re third wheel.
He hit me across the face, and said, I’ll knock the sass from you, but soon as he got the last word out I was on him and we was milling in the dirt. I got on top of him and punched him in the face, twice. They was awful good hits. Then he punched me in the gut, and Aubrey got us pulled apart and said, Goddamn, you both want to eat a bullet? Quit.
Keep your muck forks off me, I said to Dan.
I’ll put my hands where I want, Dan said. Then he picked up his hat and shoved it on his head, and said, Let’s get, Grange. I got to stave.
I was sore the whole ride that day. When we made camp that night, Dan put his bedroll between Aubrey and I, and told coarse stories about women he been with, and coarse things he heard about unnatural acts. Aubrey smoked and nodded, but I didn’t know if he liked the stories or he was only acting it. I couldn’t figure. Myself, I was sicked by them. Some thing I didn’t never want to know other folks did. Finally, I said, These tales is burrow milk. Say something bout a bank robbing if you got to talk.
You need another knock in the face? Dan said, turning to me. Shut your yap hole.
I don’t take orders from no man, I said. Specially not a shote like you.
Here’s a tale for you, he said. Last person agitated me, I cut their fuckin’ tongue out. And I got the tongue to prove it.
Aubrey was leant up against his bedroll, watching us both. He still had his pipe but he wasn’t smoking, just holding it in his mouth. He looked at me, and I looked at him, but I didn’t say nothing. Then I looked at Dan and rolled on my side. I loaded my pistol and put it beside me, and pretended to go to sleep. Dan spit at the ground aside me and then turned back to Aubrey and said how he seen some goats rutting earlier that day.
When they went to sleep, I got up and found some tongs from my saddle bag, and went scouting till I came across a gold scorpion. I picked it up with the tongs and brung it back to camp. Then I shook it hard to agitate it, and put it on Dan’s bedroll. I watched it crawl down under the top cover. Dan was passed out cold. I went back to my own bedroll, and put my pistol up next to me again and got some rest.
Before daybreak Dan woke up screaming and jumped from his bedroll, yelling that Aubrey must of hit him with a hammer cause his leg was paining terrible. Aubrey said he done no such thing. He was more agitated at being woke than he was being accused. Dan was dancing round and howling, crying like a baby. Then Dan saw the scorpion come out and cried he was dreadful afeared of scorpions, and he said his knee was tingling like lightning was running through. I started feeling bad till he seen me watching and shouted, You! You cracked bitch, you done this! I’ll turn you inside out, you fice!
I looked right at him and I said, You stay away from me, Dan Levi, or next time it will be a rattlesnake on your pecker.
Dan and Aubrey was struck dumb. Dan just looked at me, then he sniffled some more and laid back down with his back to me. Aubrey took his pistol out and shot the scorpion dead, and I laid awake with my gun for some time wondering if Dan would of tried to have revenge. But nothin’ happened. Next day we rode out, and Dan ain’t spoke more than two words. When we camped in the evening, Dan walked off to stretch his legs, and Aubrey came over and sat by me. He said he never seen no woman threaten Dan like that and no man neither, since Dan was crazy as he was ugly. Aubrey said, Scorpion’s nasty. He could of died.
No, I said. I ain’t that lucky.
Aubrey chuckled. I had started a fire and was poking it. We watched the flame get up, then he said, I’ll read you more tonight.
You ain’t done me no favors lately, I said. No use starting now.
What’s that mean? he said.
I shook my head and poked the fire more. Aubrey grunted and said, Goddamn, I ain’t got to hold your hand. You can finish a fight well as the next man. I don’t see your leg ruint by a critter bite. He got up and said, Go on and sulk, witch. I don’t care none.
He walked away and I did sulk some, because I wondered what I was doing here anyhow and thinking bout all my friends at home. I missed them with my whole heart. I thought on going back but I knew they’d be brung in my mess if I did. I missed my land. No matter how pretty these south states was, they weren’t Oregon and they weren’t my farm. I missed my sister. I missed my Pop. I was done playing outlaw and I ain’t even begun. I got up finally and found Aubrey reading by hisself in his hen skins. Come to air more grievances? he said.
No, I said. I wanted to ask something.
Aubrey was still on his book. He was studying hard. So I got to the chase and said, You gonna bed down McCabe?
Aubrey worked his jaw slow but didn’t look at me. Why you curious? he said.
No warrants is making me run, I said. Only the one crooked sheriff.
There was a real long silence so I thought he ain’t heard me. I was crouched down by his face, and I got up to walk away. He reached out and grabbed my ankle. His grip was like iron. That’s a US lawman, Aubrey said. He raised his eyes to mine. He said, You best consider your intents. I breathed out. My hands was shaking, but I clenched them into fists to stay calmed. Then he let go of my ankle and looked back down at his page. Sleep that temper off, he said. And keep your notions under your hat.
-
When we woke up come morning, Dan still ain’t come back. I was afeared that I had kilt him after all, and was unusual quiet when we went searching for him. I was sure we’d of found him laid out in the red land, crooked and cold. But when we came across him in a coulee, he was laid out all right, but breathing and coughing. His pants was round his ankles. I got an unpleasant eyeful. I ain’t put much thought to manhoods, but I knew I ain’t liked the look of Dan’s a bit. I figured he was reliefing hisself some way or another and the moonshine got him washy. Aubrey kicked him till he woke up, then told him to get hisself shucked while we let the horses drink. Dan could hardly stand so Aubrey threw him sideways on the saddle and let him ride that way. I expected him to fall off but he stayed on like a dead weight.
All the way I wondered what skill Dan got that made him worth the agitation. I knew Felix was an oilman but Aubrey ain’t said what Dan did. Far as I could tell, I was a better fighter and shooter, and why I ain’t been clamored after to join a gang I couldn’t say.
Days went by and we ain’t see no towns and no Injuns and nothing but the sky and the ground and some water pools, and I was going half out of my mind. I stunk of dirt and sweat, and my mouth tasted like cornbread all the time cause that was what we got to eat. Dan got to talking again, still on his coarse subjects, but he talked low and sometimes looked at me to see if I was going to put a hole in him for his yammering. But I didn’t. I just keep on looking for the horizon. Nights, I cooked us supper and looked at all the stars and the moon, and I felt homesick as I did on the trail. Aubrey finished The Heir of Redclyffe and said he didn’t feel like reading all the parts I missed out loud again. I asked to take the book myself so’s I could look over it, and he said I could keep the blamed thing since he ain’t got a use for it any more. So now I got my first book ever and I have something to read before bed, even though it is taxing work.
Finally, we came up on water, and first I thought it was a heat vision, how the ground gets wavy if you’re too far from something. But then it got closer and bigger, and I whooped loud, The ocean! I couldn’t help myself. I was all to pieces with happiness. I rode up hard and unsaddled soon as I could, and kicked off my boots so I could run right into the waves. Goddamn! Aubrey shouted, your horse, you witch!, but I was so happy I didn’t care if I got to walk the rest of the way. Aubrey and Dan got the horses hitched up and I kicked at the waves. Dan came in the ocean next and sat down. It was hot like a oven and that cold water felt first rate. Come in, Aubrey! I shouted, and Dan said, Grange don’t need your advice, you fuckin’ shake. I ignored Dan and tried to wave Aubrey over, but he just shook his head and stood on the shore with his arms crossed. Then I remembered that he was scared of the ocean.
I ran over to my horse and picked up my drink glass from my bag, and ran back to the ocean. I scooped some water up and took it to Aubrey. Here, I said, handing it to him. He looked inside the glass and frowned. I ain’t drinkin’ this, he said.
No, I said. It’s a gift.
It’s foul water, he said.
I said, You brung me safe all the way to Mexico. Least I can do is bring the ocean safe to you.
He looked at the glass again, and then smiled sudden. It started real slow but went up from his lips to the corners of his eyes where they got crinkled and soft. It was the nicest smile I ever seen on him. He looked up at me and his eyes was light brown as a freshborn colt. Then he bent down and pushed his nose against mine, touching my cheek, and I propped up on my toes and kissed him.
