But, yep, the difference is important.
I was just almost 12 years old when our man Beauregard beat down Fort Sumter. I remember all the whoop’n and holler’n when we heard the news back up on our hill. And just the other side of my birthday came news of Jackson’s brigade standing like a stonewall in the field to give Beauregard time to crush the Yanks again at Manassas. Boy, the celebrating then was a sight. Me and Bobby and JT had us a time set’n up in the big ol’ tree on the edge of town watching the party that time.
Come’n up on my 13th birthday, our boys got whupped pretty good at Shiloh and the men around here started head’n off to war. Me and JT and Bobby would rush our chores so’s we could go down and watch em march off together. Mr Pamens and his eldest boy, Mr Jamesbe and his son Rutger, and all the rest. Some fitted out in shiny uniforms with brass buttons glint’n in the sun, some in their best Sunday go to meetin’s and some in whatever they had.
But men, one and all.
Proud to stand up and be counted, to hold strong that the authority over our land to make the decisions that were right for us, was ours; and to throw the northern rabble back into the big, noisy, dirty cities from where they came. There wasn’t a one of us who had ever owned a slave, never had a thought to do so neither. But the war wasn’t about slavery back then, or ever really, and so our’n was proud to go and fight.
Cause sometimes that’s what a man has to do. He has to stand up to what’s wrong. And sometimes stand’n up means fight’n.
Some of those men came back missing arms, or legs, or eyes. Powder burns on their faces, and crippled strides. But proud. Proud that they had gone, and proud that they would do so again if’n they were let to.
As the war dragged on; Second Manassas, Antietam, Fredricksburg, Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, Chickamauga; Men bled and died in the tens of thousands and still the men and boys from our hills and hollers were proud to go. All the time I was a grow’n and planning and dream’n to go.
I dreamt of the adventure that I would have. The places to see, and the heroic fights I would be in. Fights where we would finally teach them northerner’s onc’t and for all that they had no business tell’n us how to live.
And then came Sherman, and Sheridan and the bloody destruction they both left scarred the land and souls of us all. Pa had long since gone and hadn’t been heard from since Hood got driven back at Franklin. Ma cried a lot and the women who’d been widowed earlier kept a come’n round help’n’ out.
I was come’n up on 16 and fix’n to go. I had packed my best shirt and had on my other’n, rolled up the spare socks ma had knit, and stuffed them in a pocket with my foldin knife, and a chaw o’ tobacco Ma didn’t know about. I took down the old squirrel gun which was all we had left as Pa had take’n the good rifle, and was just step’n out the door when JT comes run’n up to tell me that General Lee had been driven out of Richmond and surrendered to that godless Grant.
Me and Bobby Lee and JT snuck us some shine and ran on down to the swimming hole to get our first drunk on and think what we could do. That think’n and drink’n turned to talk’n. And mean and dirty it was too. Plan’n on about what we was gonna do someday to get even with them yanks. I was plenty riled as I had been figure’n on getting some revenge for Pa in the war, and now I couldn’t.
Think’n back on it, that was when I first thought I had gone bad.
We talked on how we was gonna do something, something big. How we was gonna hurt them Yanks for all the evil they had done. And as we soaked up that shine, we got louder, and meaner, and pretty soon we got to look’n for something to hurt. JT spied some poor bunny happen’n by and that was his bad luck. Bobby hit that bunny with a stick, and then what we did to that poor bunny don’t bear the tell’n; it wasn’t like kill’n for hate, or survival, or even for supper. Oh, we were hungry alright, but not in a way that a good meal would cure, and when we was done, that bunny wasn’t fit to be et no how.
I remember laugh’n with JT and Bobby about it, but I also remember feel’n bad for the bunny, remember know’n that what we done was wrong. Should have paid closer mind to them feelings back then, it would have saved me some years.
Course with the war over, and work to be done and not enough men to do it, me and Bobby and JT never went anywhere right off. We would still get together when we could and grouse about how it was, but we had work to do at home and no chance to get even until them Carpetbaggers started come’n ‘round.
Them boys were pure nasty and no two ways about it. They come down here knowing that times were hard and they offered almost nothing for land and such cause for us the only alternative was nothing. They made up taxes and fees and stole our homes and our crops and our animals. They even stole our women. Sometimes with pretty shiny things, most times by force. They were as bad as Sherman and Sheridan, worse even, they was supposed to be here to help so said the law.
They helped alright, helped themselves to whatever they wanted.
Old man Jamesbe had come back missing his right arm and right leg from the knee down. He was pretty sickly from when he got back until those Carpetbaggers came to pick the land clean. But he lived a ways off from the rest, up ol’ Willow Creek a bit and his land was pretty rough, so’s they didn’t set in on him right away. After them Carpetbaggers got themselves the easy pickins they started look’n further afield and came on the Jamesbe place.
Me and JT and Bobby had always made time to help ol’ Mr Jamesbe out after he come back all shot up. Lost his son on the same battlefield as his leg and arm. So we just found time to stop by and help clean out the spring, plow a few rows, mend a fence, or some other little thing. Each of us did a couple chores like that around his place each week and Mr Jamesbe could pretty much take care of hisself with that bit o’ extra help.
JT had been over the Jamesbe place one Saturday and on come’n home hunted up Bobby and me. He said that ol’ Man Jamesbe wanted the three of us to stop by the next day before Sunday meetin and hoped that we could make it even though he knew it would be early.
So, Sunday morning before it was even light we three met up and headed up Willow Creek. We was some worried that we’d have enough time to walk out there, tend to whatever Mr Jamesbe had in mind, and get back in time for Meetin, but figured we would have most of an hour once there, and the three of us could do a lot in an hour.
The sun was just breakin the ridge when we come up out of the creekbed at Jamesbe’s place and there he sat on his front boards, dressed up in his finest. Next to him was a table piled full of guns and powder and such like.
“Glad you boys could make it” says he, “I was afraid that you wouldn’t have time afore Meetin time and all”. “You boys have sure helped me out since I got back, and since I’m a goin away, I wanted to give you each somethin by way o thanks”.
“JT and Bobby, I got for each o you here a Walker Colt and a leather hip belt and holster fer ya. A powder flask each and some caps and balls each. And since your brothers and can share, a .44 mold so’s you can make up more balls when you need em. They was my boy’s and did him well until he was kilt”.
“And Trey, I’m a givin you one of my ‘58 Remingtons and three extra cylinders, belt, mold, powder and all. Them extra cylinders on the Remington let you carry loaded up and you can just change out the cylinder when you use the first ‘un up.”
“Boys, Trey can load all 6 cause the Remington lets the hammer down between caps for safety, but JT and Bobby, don’t you ever load more than five and keep the hammer over the empty cylinder”.
I tried tellin Mr Jamesbe that he didn’t owe us nothing and that he should keep Rutger’s gun’s. JT didn’t like that none. But Mr Jamesbe told us he was going away that very day and that he wasn’t gonna have room to carry all his stuff no how. He thanked us again for coming and asked us if we would mind headin off cause he had things to do before time came for him to go.
I wished I had understood what he meant. I’d like to think that if I had I would have done somthin. But we three hightailed it. Proud as we were with our new guns, we didn’t dare show up at Church with them. So we all had to get back home first.
Just as Church was closing up and the Preacher was out a shakin hands, Walt Guilson raced up on his horse with the news. Seems that Mr Jamesbe was still a sittin there on his porch when the Carpetbaggers came callin to throw him off the place. Walt said that Jamesbe was pure shot to pieces, but before they kilt him, he put three of em in the ground an shot another’s shoulder near off.
I knew then why he’d give us boys them guns. He knew he wasn’t gonna live out the day and wanted us boys to carry on his start’n. I gave JT and Bobby the high sign and we headed off to the swimming hole to talk on it.
That poor bunny may have been the start of going wrong, but we boys sure followed up on it after Mr Jamsebe’s kill’n. JT, Bobby and me would get together once every week or two and sneak off in the night. Started out just shooting out windows at the places the Carpetbaggers was stay’n to scare ‘em some.
After a while, we decided that we should take back the money and things they was steal’n and give it back where we could. So we started figure’n on doing some rob’n, kinda think‘n we was gonna be like that Robin Hood legend, ya know? Course, if’n we had thought much we would have realized that the rob’n would naturally lead to kill’n and before I knew it, we had done killed a man.
JT and Bobby seemed to be pretty fine with that. But I wasn’t. Not that the man wasn’t a Carpetbagger, and not that I had any use for one, but somehow, I wasn’t sure that it was right that we done it. Course that killin lead to another on the next rob’n and another, and it soon came time to run somewhere else.
I shoulda lit out by myself, but I went wrong again and headed out with JT and Bobby.
Well, we traveled from home all the way out to California State and back over the next couple years. Pushed cows, robbed a bank or two, got in some fair fights, and some that wasn’t. Did some panning and hard-rock minning and far too much rob’n and shoot’n.
JT especially seemed to have it in him to shoot a man, with little or no real reason. And JT was quick. I seen him let another man get a good start and JT would still fan him. No contest. And sand…JT never sweat even standing toe to toe. Just one hard stone kill’n man he was.
But not Bobby. Bobby wasn’t so fast to draw against a man, he just natural seemed to like to shoot ‘em from behind, or from up a draw. And another thing, Bobby sure liked hurting anything weaker than him. Saloon gals, squirrels, cats, whatever, he just took a natural glee in cause pain and discomfort he did.
Those times; the shoot’n times, the hurt’n just to hurt times, those bothered me constant they did. ‘Specially after we left the Carpetbaggers behind. The Carpetbaggers was doing everyone we knew harm, but what hurt was that gal in Soda Springs doing singing and dancing in the saloon?
Look’n back, I guess I had been think’n on it a good bit after Soda Springs. In fact I spent most every waking minute thinking about being bad and if it was something in me, or something I did.
See, if it was something in me, then like JT and Bobby, I might as well get right with it and enjoy it. But if it was something that I did, then there must be something that I could do to change it. Cause I had grown tired of moving on cause there was trouble coming up behind.
I guess I ain’t right sure when I figured it all out. Maybe not even until after I did it, but by the time we hit Grafton in Utah Territory something had changed in the way I was think’n. I was done with this do’n bad and done with the wrong turns that had lead me out on the owl hoot trail.
Grafton was just starting to fill back up. The town had been give up in ’66 cause of Indian trouble and it took a few years before them Indians were quieted down enough for people to move back in. We three were driftin. I was edging to go back home and see Ma and my sis but seems like JT and Bobby had done some evil or other the night we pulled out and didn’t want to head back there. They wasn’t say’n what it was that they done, but I figured it must have been to their own kin or else they would be for head’n home.
Anyhow, we hit Grafton and right off I saw that this was going to be a short stop cause JT and Bobby were lit up. We stopped at the saloon and cut the dust, then went look’n for a bath and shave. On the way we happened by the Mercantile, and JT caught sight of a pretty slip of a gal doin some buy’n there.
JT set Bobby right off. Right soon Bobby was crowd’n her and touch’n where he shouldn’t aught to be touch’n, least ways not without a invite and a preacher’s bless’n. She was not want’n any of it and JT was just a laugh’n; so I stepped in and corralled Bobby and drug him out of there.
We had us some words we did, and I wasn’t sure I wasn’t gonna have to trade more than just words, but after a bit Bobby settled down some. Still, he warned me that if’n I ever came between him and a gal again, I was gonna get hurt, bad hurt. I just knew I had better keep eyes behind me for a while until he settled down full and complete.
By this time JT was ache’n for that bath and things just seemed to get dropped.
That bath was shore nice. Sat there soaking and soaking. Had them heat up the water three times while I waited for my clothes to get washed and dried. Got shaved while a soak’n there too. I’d been feel’n flush cause we had sold several head of cows we found a few days earlier to some homesteader. And while JT and Bobby seemed to gamble and drink their money, I tended to not.
Evening come on while I was a soak’n and JT and Bobby headed off for some eats before I was done as they didn’t care much ‘bout clean clothes and all. Getting dressed, I headed on down the street to the place the barber had told us we could get a good fill’n of food. Soon as I stepped in the door I noticed two things right up; that little slip of a gal was there a cookin and JT and Bobby weren’t there at all.
Janine was her name. And was I ever smitten.
She was happy to set to cook’n, trying to fill me up, and I was shore happy to just a sit there and watch her move around while she did it. I ate down a good sized steak and mess of potatoes as well as a pile o’ greens. Then she forked me up what musta been ‘bout 1/3rd of an apple pie and poured some sweet cream over it. I was like the cat, just a sit’n there licking my whiskers.
I sat up close and she and I talked while she cooked for me and anyone else in the place, though honest, I couldn’t tell you who else come in. We talked about growing up, hard times, and good. We talked about dreams, and wants and hopes. And it all come natural, and comfortable. I ain’t never talked to another gal the way I talked with her.
For the first time I could see a cabin tucked down in a bend of creek bottom somewhere, and some land. Crops in the field and a few cows, pigs, chickens, and such. And a woman of my own.
Long past dark, while she was a cleaning her father came in. He looked hard at me at first, then Janine told him ‘bout how I had helped her at the mercantile. His look soften up a mite, but he still told me I had to leave cause they was gonna close up and she was headed home to bed.
I left. But you can bet, full as I was, I was think’n about breakfast.
I found JT and Bobby over to the Saloon. Seems they had headed straight there after the bath and drank their supper. Then they set to play’n cards. I had me a glass as they continued to lose to a sharp dressed man who sat with his back to the corner. ‘Peared to me like they was out-matched. In all ways. I tried to get them to leave off, but they wouldn’t go while they was down, intended to win it all back. I figured they were never gonna make it.
Sure enough, wasn’t more’n a few minutes after I got there that they both were busted flat. JT was ready to draw iron, but he knew Bobby wasn’t likely to back him. JT looked my way and I told him it warn’t my money. Shoving back his chair he kicked the table and sloshed a couple drinks as he headed for the door. Bobby and I follow’n.
As it happened, I wish’t he had pulled iron on that sharp dresser. But instead, we three hit the street just as Janine and her father was walk’n by.
I saw the spark cut up in JT’s eyes and moved to head him off, but he turned to Bobby and asked Bobby how it had felt touch’n Janine at the store, and if’n Bobby thought she would want some more, and was she up for a real man.
Janine tried to go around, but Bobby grabbed her right quick and JT grabbed her father.
Me, I just went in swing’n. My right caught Bobby up side of his head, and I spun to thump JT some. They both turned loose and faced me.
I’m still not sure if JT would a drawn on me, I tend to think not, cause JT knew I was fast. But Bobby did the oddest thing and went to grab’n iron while face’n me. It was sure ‘nough strange, guess he hadn’t settled down from earlier outside the merchantile. Bobby started pull’n first. Then JT jumped in. I don’t know if he was try’n to save his brother, or if’n he just had a mean on, but he surely must of thought that Bobby draw’n would be enough of an edge and followed in Bobby’s wake.
I shot JT first, cause I knew Ihad time with Bobby. I don’t remember reach’n for that Remington, but I do remember see’n the third button on JT’s shirt just disappear into the hole the slug made. And several sparks of burn’n powder catch in his wool.
Just kept holding the trigger in and fanned the next round at Bobby. He and I triggered rounds at the same time I think. Only remember hearing my shot, but I swear I saw the bullet come’n out of his gun and flying by my right eye.
That was his mistake, Bobby shot for my face, I shot for his black heart.
I’m a ride’n home now to see Ma.
But I ain’t ride’n alone.
And Janine and I are gonna bring Ma back here with us.
I even got a little bend in the creek all picked out. And there ain’t nothing bad about that.
- © 2013 Marty K Vandermolen, all Rights Reserved
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