The
boy paused as though reflecting on some story; deciding whether to tell the
tale.
“Ole
Curly!” Rob shook his head, nodding his forehead toward the new grave dirt
mound, “he always had an eye for the ladies, ever since I can remember.” He
laughed, “Didn’t make no never-mind to that red-head whose brand might be on
’em, either. No! Sir! He liked the ladies.
“Down
there in that Brazos River country we had us a fine ranch set-up. Oh! Not none
too big; nothing like this here fine, giant spread, but we ran a few head of
cattle, sheep, horses, even, some porkers, along with chickens and ducks.
Raised enough garden vegetables to keep us all fat and sassy, too. There’s whitetail
deer down in those scrub thickets enough to feed the whole state of Texas for a
long spell; sure shot my fair share of them. Yes! Sir! Even saw a passel of
antelope; ain’t nothing good as antelope steaks, ’cept, of course, long-horn beef
cattle.
“Well,
that there river was a road map to Texas lands; people came by our place all
the time.
“Pa!
He sure liked to talk; had a right good ole time telling tales to the pilgrims.
Ole Curly, with that bright red hair growing plum wild out of the top of his
head, he caught the eye of many a fine looking young gal. And, he sure knew how
to romance ’em.” Rob smiled.
Frazier
began to feel that this “memory-lane” trip might last a while; he sat down,
resting his back against the trunk of the huge tree standing sentinel over
Curly’s new abode. He waited.
“Our
nearest neighbor, south about a half mile along the river, was a Mexican named
Gorge Mendoza; had a pretty little wife name of Juanita; they had three little
kids always running around playing along the river bank. Didn’t take long for
Ole Curly to catch sight of the gal.
“Gorge
had a job, of sorts, on down to Waco at the livery. Every day, he’d leave home
to trek on into town; about, dusk, here he’d come back home. Curly liked that
Gorge had a regular job.
“I
don’t know if the Mex knew about his wife and Curly, but I sure did. Caught
them together one day down at the river, swimming in the water. Only, they
weren’t swimming. No! Siree!”
Bow-leg
paused, showing a goofy-looking smile on his face; remembering. Frazier rolled
a smoke, waiting for the drama to play out in the telling of the tale.
“Well.
After about a year, Juanita turned up pregnant. Still, nobody suspected
anything.
“One
day, Curly came in for supper; he was mad as the devil, fit to be tied.
“Started
cussing Gorge unmercifully. Said the low-down scum had beat Juanita unconscious;
knocked out one of her front teeth. Said he was going over there and shoot the
bastard.
“Pa
grabbed him by the shoulder; told him what went on between a man, any man, and
his wife was strictly private. Said Curly could not interfere and that was the
end of it.
“Curly
kept his distance from Juanita after that ’cause we respected Pa. Also, a farmer
from Missouri moved in just east of our place and he had beautiful twin
daughters, blue-eyed and blonde. I guess Ole Curly sure enough taught them all
about ‘swimming’, too.”
He
laughed at his conclusion, slowly shaking his head; Jeb Frazier joined in the
celebration.
Bow-leg
sobered, then. “When Juanita’s baby came, Gorge and the family moved out about
a week later. Curly had gone to Waco for some supplies; when he came home he
said that he had seen the whole Mexican family in town. And, there weren’t no
baby with them. Said Juanita wouldn’t even look his way although he was close
enough to yell at her.
“Caleb
rode by their place a few days later; came home to say there was a tiny new
grave behind their old house. Curly put flowers on that grave for months, after
that. The following spring, the annual flood took Gorge’s house and wiped out
all trace he had ever been there.”
Rob
seemed reflective as he remembered the events within his head...
(Part 2 of 2-Tomorrow)
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