From "JC Taylor and Slim", a short story. It ain’t years in the saddle that wear a man down. Or fixin’ a fence post somewhere on the line. Or patchin’ up bruises from a night on the town. Or sleepin’ on cold ground in brush tents of pine. Or getting’ that steer out before it can drown. Or breakin’ that horse before breakin’ your spine. It ain’t nothin’ like that that will wear a man down. It’s that dad-blamed friend of mine. I was about ten years old when I first saw JC Taylor. He walked into the store in Bainesville, Nebraska. Bainesville is about half way between Omaha and Denver and about ten miles from the border with Kansas. The Republican River flowed along the south edge of town. Pa had a jot ‘em down store. It was called that because most times folks didn’t have any money until crops came in or part of a herd was sold. So we’d jot down how much they owed in a ledger and when they got the money they’d come in and settle up the account. JC came walkin’ in big as you please and stopped just inside the door. He was dirty and ragged, had a big grin on his face, and the smell fetched clear ‘cross the room. He said, “I ain’t no beggar. Just down on my luck. I’m hungry and if you jes gimme a broom I’ll sweep out the store, and the back room, too, for a bait of grub. If you please.” He tugged at his shirt, what was left of it, and said “I’ll do more if you got a needle and some thread. A man oughtn’t go about showing hisself in ways that nohow ain’t right. I’ll do what’s needed for a patch or two. And if’n you got one, nothin’ fancy, mind, I could sure use a spot for the night. Just a blanket or so. I ain’t used to much more. A feedbag for a pillow is all right with me. Say, can I work off the price of a hat?” Well, me an Pa stood there, like pole-axed steers, as JC peered all around the place. He got through inspecting and turned back to us with a look like a homeless hound. “Well, I know you don’t know me from Adam and it looks like Slim here does the chores that I’m askin’ to do so maybe I’ll jes git and leave you to what’s yours.” He turned on a heel that was wore mighty thin and he leaned a bit to the left ‘cause of it. He didn’t get more than halfway before Pa said “Wait! Hold on just a minute. Randy here does all the chores that need doin’ and mostly he gets ‘em done. But I ain’t never turned a man from a meal. I’ll spot you the price of one over to Martha’s Diner across the street.” “I ‘preciate that, sir, really I do, but a man’s got to earn what he gets in life else what kind of man can he be? My Pa now, he didn’t leave me nothin’ cause there wasn’t never nothin’ to start with, but he made sure before he passed on that I’d have some things to believe. And that there is one."
Posted on: Mon, 17 Jun 2013 04:18:13 +0000
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