Youngblood

by H. Peter Alesso

  By the end of the day, they had packed two tons of fruit into baskets that they fit into a large wagon. Kira also packed several dozen fur pelts of rabbit, beaver, and even one bear. Finally, she threw antelope hides on top.

  “Thanks to your help, we’ve finished earlier than I expected. We can go to Jamestown tomorrow if you’re up to it.”

  ◆◆◆

  The next day, Kira opened her corral and led two mares to the heavily laden wagon. She harnessed the horses and placed her bow and quiver of arrows on the seat next to her.

  “Get on board,” she said.

  Youngblood climbed beside her.

  “Getty up.”

  She said nothing more for an hour as they sat together under the hot summer sun. The light breeze that blew the clouds across the sky also ruffled Kira’s loose blouse and vest. Her well-tanned golden arms and legs were a striking contrast to Youngblood’s sunburnt face.

  He pulled his hat lower on his forehead to shade his eyes while Kira coxed the horses to pull the wagon along a path they knew well.

  “What are the people like?”

  Kira said, “I’ll leave you to find that out for yourself. As for the gangs, you’ve already had a taste and I’m sure you’ll learn more about them whether you like it, or not.”

  He nodded.

  “Be on the lookout for Jarod’s men. If they see us, they’ll want a share of the goods. Not to mention, they may want to settle a score with you.”

  They remained alert for the next few hours, but the journey continued uneventfully.

  When they approached the town, Youngblood noticed the same guard and his dogs that he encountered before.

  Before they even reached hailing distance, the guard released his pack of dogs.

  The mongrels came running out of the main gate at breakneck speed, howling.

  Youngblood jumped from the wagon and picked up a large rock, but Kira was already running toward the dogs. They pounced on her, licking her face and wagging their tails. She petted each one and called them by name.

  Feeling foolish, Youngblood dropped the rock.

  The dogs nipped at Kira’s heels and jumped up on her as she gave each a piece of jerky she had in her hand.

  They ignored Youngblood completely.

  “Come. Show your hand and let them sniff you. You’re with me and that makes you OK,” she laughed.

  It was true.

  The dogs sniffed, and Kira’s approval was enough for the canines. The horses pulled the wagon right past the dogs.

  When they reached the gate, the guard opened it with a warm, “Hi, Kira. I was hoping you’d come by. We’ve been missing your fresh fruit. Don’t forget to leave some at my house.”

  “Glad to, William. I’ll leave a mixed basket of gorgeous fruit for your family.”

  His round red face split into a grin. “Thanks, Darling.”

  To Youngblood’s relief, William gave him a brief nod and just like the dogs, Kira’s approval was enough to win him free passage.

  As they entered the former gold mining community, passing people and businesses, Youngblood could see no modern technology. Historic buildings flanked the first few blocks of Main Street. A defunct set of railroad tracks ran through the middle of the street. A general store, a tannery, and sawmill dominated the next few blocks.

  Kira said, “Getty up,” as she drove the team straight along Main Street until they reached a fork in the road. A saloon stood on the left fork, but they veered right toward a blacksmith shop with a stable and corral next to a mountain cliff.

  The saloon was in the center of Jamestown with a general store attached. It had rooms to rent on the second floor to travelers, though there were. It was the center of social life.

  She stopped the wagon inside the stable. People came out of the general store and saloon to follow her. A small crowd gathered around the wagon eyeing and touching the furs and fruit as she bartered with customers.

  She told Youngblood, “I’m going into the saloon to talk business. The horses are tuckered out from that heavy load. I need to rest them for a day before we head back tomorrow. Would you unhitch and feed the horses? Ben will help.”

  Youngblood said, “Sure.” He looked around and found the blacksmith already standing behind him.

  “I’m Ben, let’s get started,” said the blacksmith. He had a friendly smile and a cheery sounding voice. His powerful physique belied his long tangles of bushy grey hair and beard. Flexing his muscles, he unhitched the wagon. Then he used a mechanical-hydraulic hoist to unload the fruit while Youngblood removed the harness and took the horses into the corral.

  As he was giving the horses feed and water, he saw a little girl playing with a puppy at the back of the corral. She sat at the base of the one-hundred-foot-high cliff, one of Yosemite Valley’s most prominent features.

  The small child was singing when Youngblood noticed some dirt and dust scattering off the top of the cliff. As he watched, some small rocks fell from the top and gathered momentum. The chain reaction of collisions loosened more stones.

  He shouted to the child, “Get away!”

  But she didn’t hear him over the rumbling and she didn’t look up to see the source of the racket.

  Youngblood took a step toward her and shouted again. Then, as the rockslide gained power and intensity, he ran forward.

  Sprinting a dozen yards to the girl, he launched himself at her as the first rocks reached her. His body landed on top of her, covering her while leaving him to get pelted with rocks the size of his fist. The welts and bruises were guaranteed to develop into ugly black and blues before long.

  After a minute, the slide stopped. Youngblood began to relax when . . .

  THUMP!

  A bolder, several feet across, landed a yard away from his head.

  As he struggled to catch his breath amid the dust storm, he brushed off the dirt and rocks as he thrashed to get up.

  The child wriggled too, and as Youngblood moved, her cherub face popped up with her large brown eyes wide with fright.

  In her distress to escape the rubble, her nails scratched his face.

  Youngblood stood up and the little girl ran away.

  He dusted himself off and limped into the stable. He looked around but there were no witnesses to the event.

  As he entered the stable, he heard the blacksmith shout, “Look out!”

  A ruptured hydraulic line sprayed fluid several yards across a haystack.

  Ben squashed the leak and shook his head. “Trying to do too much with too old parts, poor fittings, and too few tools.”

  Youngblood said, “What can I do to help?”

  “I guess, I can fix this now. Can you wait? Otherwise, you’ll have to help me get out the pulley and hand hoist, so we can finish unloading the rest of these baskets.”

  “I can wait. I’d love to watch you fix that hydraulic pump.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, I’m curious. I’m pretty good with electrical stuff, but I haven’t done much with mechanical equipment. I’d like to learn.”

  “I’ve already got an apprentice, Pyro. He’s inside right now,” said Ben, as he sized up Youngblood.

  Youngblood slapped his shirt and trousers to shake off the dirt.

  Ben asked, “What happened to you?”

  “Got too close to a rockslide.”

  “You’ve got to be careful. They can be dangerous.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  CREAK.

  The stable door swung open and the little girl came running in carrying her puppy. She stopped dead in her tracks five feet from Youngblood and looked up at him, her eyes growing wide.

  Youngblood froze.

  Ben stood up and looked from the girl to Youngblood and back. In a gentle and patient voice, he asked, “Lorrie, honey, what’s the matter?”

  The girl dropped her puppy. The color of a muddy yellow buttercup, the pup had a pug nose and floppy ears and was the image of her mother, Lady.

 
Then Lorrie ran to Youngblood and wrapped her skinny arms around his leg like a vise.

  He kneeled so his face was level with hers and smiled at her dimpled cheeks and freckles.

  She put her hand on his scratched face and touched it. Then she kissed the scratches and gave him a final hug before running after her golden retriever puppy.

  “Goldie, Goldie,” she called.

  Ben scratched his head, “Well, I’ll be. My granddaughter’s sociable, but she’s never done anything like that before. People deal with me, but they adore Lorrie. She is endearing, but I’ve never seen her take to someone so fast.”

  Youngblood looked pleased with himself.

  Ben chuckled, “I guess, I’ll have to teach you whatever you’re interested in now that you’ve got Lorrie’s approval.”

  After the repairs, Youngblood entered the Branch Water Saloon. The great room was large and filled with numerous small tables and accompanying hardwood chairs. There were two long drawing rooms on either side for special parties that were open to the great room. The wooden floor was covered with scattered sawdust while the walls were painted in many colors of no clear design. Behind the long-polished bar, there were old paintings and long forgotten souvenirs hanging from the walls. A circular tray of bottles and mugs sat on the counter containing dark liquids.

  As Youngblood took it all in, his eyes slowed at the bar. The bartender came to him.

  “What’ll you have?” he said, wiping the bar counter with a rag dirtier than the surface it swiped.

  Youngblood slapped his hat against his clothes to shake the dust off.

  “I’d appreciate a whiskey.”

  He untied his handkerchief and rolled up his sleeves. Taking the drink, he swallowed it in one gulp making a wry face as the liquor ran down his throat.

  He said, “Another.”

  The bartender looked at Kira who nodded to assure him that he would get paid.

  As he poured the drink, the tiny wrinkles around the bartender’s eyes twinkled. He said, “Don’t be in such a hurry. I’ve plenty more.”

  Youngblood relaxed and savored the second drink.

  “A man needs to watch what’s going on around him, or else, fall victim,” said the bartender. “Drinking is not helpful. There’re sandwiches at the end of the bar, help yourself.”

  “Thanks, err . . .”

  “Mack. Everyone calls me Mack.”

  “Thanks, Mack.”

  Mack asked, “I haven’t seen you before. Where’re you from?”

  “Outside the Valley.”

  “Where about?”

  “Southwest.”

  “Huh.” The barkeep continued to pepper him with questions but got few answers.

  Youngblood asked, “How can you make a living with the gangs choking trade and profits.”

  “Yeah, they’re shortages, but that can’t last. The cattlemen and farmers are working as hard as they can, even with Jarod’s men working just as hard to take it away. He calls it taxes, but I can see a better day coming. The thing to do is to work your business, or land, and make a small something. You know, be a contributor. Sure, Jarod’s outfit runs things for now, but we manage. He may be ruthless but he’s not vicious,” he said, shaking his head. “But he does take too much. I can’t image what he does with it all. He thinks we small guys are nothing, but where would he be without us?”

  Youngblood said, “So, you’re his suppliers. What does he do with all that he steals?”

  “Don’t know. Rumor has it that he takes wagonloads of good through the mountain passes to his home in the north where he has a family, but no one has ever seen that place, at least no one that’s lived to tell the tale.”

  “He’s got a secret location?”

  “Yeah,” said Mack, rubbing his chin, “You ask a lot of questions, but don’t say much about yourself. I never met a man quite like you—kinda’ mysterious—that might make you dangerous.”

  Youngblood walked away and watched Kira barter with several people. Each left with a part of her cargo in exchange for some coins. She gave Youngblood a small part of her gains in payment for his labor and told him to buy himself some clothes and personal items at the general store.

  As he was leaving, he noticed several young men’s heads turn when Kira walked across the room, but she laughingly pushed away those who approached her.

  When he entered the general store, he was fascinated with the variety and availability of so many items. There were bushels of rice, beans, noodles, dried soups, flour, sugar, salt, and tomatoes on display. On the shelves were towels, plates, and forks. In the back, there were lanterns, candles, and flints.

  He collected soap and a change of clothes then he took his packages and put them in the now nearly empty wagon.

  He returned to the saloon in time hear Kira offer the recharged batteries for sale. The barkeeper offered to trade a box of salvaged technology. He explained there was more at the junkyard and she could barter with the neighboring town which wanted to extract the metals.

  She agreed, and Youngblood looked through the damaged equipment. He asked, “Why can’t you repair some of these?”

  “We don’t have an instruction manual or trained personnel.”

  “How come?”

  “It’s a catch-22. We can’t repair the computer systems without instructions and all the instructions are electronic and defunct. And we can’t train anyone to repair things without the instructions. Besides, there are essential parts and tools we don’t have.”

  “I know where I can get access to a computer system that’s in decent condition and repairable. It might offer access to manuals.”

  “Is that where you said you could get tools to fix my flier?”

  “Same place. If you bring a wagonload of salvageable technology to your homestead, I can fix enough of it to make you a tidy profit. But this will have to remain a secret. I don’t want Jarod’s men to get interested.”

  “When can you go?”

  “Soon.”

  They went to the junkyard and Kira bought scrap equipment such as old broken phones, radios, pumps, computers, motors, and generators which they loaded into the wagon.

  In the stable, Youngblood examined a defunct generator.

  Kira came to him. “What’re you doing?”

  “I was trying to see if this generator is salvageable.”

  She watched for several minutes.

  “I could make this work with the right repair parts after stripping down another generator.”

  Kira waved to someone entering the stable. “Pyro, can you come here?”

  Kira whispered, “Pyro is always willing to cooperate, but always looked out for himself. He’s hardheaded and quick to anger. Sometimes he acts without thinking, but he can be a real asset in business dealings with other towns.”

  A young man with black hair and a strong athletic physique bound over in a few steps. He said, “Hey, what’re you doing?”

  “Pyro, this is Youngblood.”

  “Hi,” said Pyro with a wide smile and a welcoming handshake. He young with an enthusiastic energy.

  “Youngblood had a run-in with Jarod and his boys,” said Kira.

  “Really? What happened?”

  “They grabbed me at night while I was camping in the woods.”

  “Wow, they’re mean trouble.”

  Kira said, “Pyro’s family was abducted by gangs.”

  Pyro said, “They disappeared years ago, and I haven’t heard anything from them since.”

  He took a deep breath and then asked, “How’d you get away?”

  “With some luck and some help from Kira.”

  Pyro nodded at her and then said, “Ben mentioned that you wanted to learn a few things.”

  Youngblood said, “That’s right. There’s a lot I can learn from you and Ben about hydraulics and mechanical systems. I’ll pay my way by showing you some tricks with electrical machines.”

  Youngblood said, “Wouldn’t it be great, if working
together, we could get a water pump, or a generator, working?”

  Pyro’s expression showed a dynamic curiosity taking root.

  Youngblood liked what he saw. “It’s worth trying. I’m going to get some tools and I’ll be back in a few days. We can see what happens.”

  Kira said, “Pyro meet us at my place in a week and bring all the salvageable stuff you can find. We’ll fix what we can then you can travel to the towns selling them. We’ll split the profits. OK?”

  Pyro’s face lit up. “Deal.”

  Chapter 6

  On the Trail

  “Her name is Bella,” said Kira, stroking the mare’s neck and handing the reins to Youngblood.

  He put his foot in the stirrup and swung his leg over the horse. This was the second time he had ridden a horse and he wiggled to get comfortable in the saddle. His first experience was at his six-year-old birthday party when he paraded around the backyard on a pony.

  “She’s surefooted and gentle, and she’ll get you where you’re going if you treat her right. Give her, her head when crossing a stream, or climbing a steep incline.”

  Youngblood nodded.

  “Remember to keep your weight on the stirrups, not your seat. You’ve got enough supplies in your saddlebags for a week. Pyro and I will expect to meet you at my barn next Saturday. At that time, we should know if this bargain to work together to repair technology is going to succeed.”

  Youngblood nodded again, once more adjusting his rear in the saddle. He eyed Kira’s bow and arrows and wished he could ask to take them with him. He didn’t like the idea of traveling a few dozen miles through gang territory any more than he liked the thought of grizzly bears visiting him at night. But she needed it for protection as much as he did.

  I probably couldn’t hit anything anyway.

  She looked up at him.

  “Thanks, Kira.”

  Pulling the reins to the left and giving Bella a gentle kick in the flank, he said, “Getty up.”

  The horse headed down the trail at a brisk walk.

  When he looked over his shoulder a few minutes later, he couldn’t see anyone behind him.

  “We’re going to be great pals, aren’t we Bella?” he asked, patting her neck.