Wildcat Kitty and The Cyclone Kid Ride Again

by Franklin D. Lincoln

Saint Louis was a busy city and Rap noticed how many more tin horses were scuttling about town compared to Denver or even Kansas City.

  By now he was getting used to the chug, chug of their motors and the fog of burning oil spewing out into the air. Maybe there was something about Dandy Jim’s prediction of them replacing horses, after all. One thing was sure, Rap had said to the others, he would never ride one of those things. He may be getting used to seeing them, but he was still scared of them. They would wheel around corners at the tremendous speed of ten or fifteen miles an hour: their riders wearing bright white or yellow dusters and funny looking masks over their eyes. Jeremy told Rap these were goggles and Rap thought that was a funny word.

  “Now that’s more like it,” Rap said when he spied the trolley cars drawn by teams of big strong draught horses.

  “We will be riding on one of those, senor,” Paco Morales explained to Rap and the others.

  Paco was a small. wiry man. His once wavy hair was now thin and gray. He was dressed in a three piece suit that was too big for him.

  He had met Kitty and the others at the dock when they disembarked from the Delta Queen. Kitty had run to him and hugged him tightly and when released, Jeremy was right there with arm and hand extended to greet his old friend.

  With introductions all the way around completed, Kitty, Cyclone, Dandy Jim, Jeremy, Rap and Chief Henry, all set off to Paco’s apartment in an old wooden frame two story building on Lexington Avenue.

  Rap was delighted to board the brightly colored trolley and take a seat on a bench that ran lengthwise of the car. Kitty and Cyclone squeezed into the seat beside him. Jim, Jeremy and Henry stood in the aisle, grasping the round hand holds that draped from the ceiling of the car. They braced their legs in a stance to steady themselves as the big horses started up again, pulling the hulking car forward.

  Rap watched enthusiastically at the sights through the window on the other side of the car. On another track horses were pulling a trolley in the opposite direction and passed them by.

  As they passed another intersection, he saw another trolley on another street heading away from them. “Look at that!” Rap exclaimed. “That one ain’t got no horses at all. They run on gas too?”

  “No,” said Dandy Jim. “They run on electricity.”

  “Elec...what?”

  “Electricity. See those wires above it. There is another wire attached to the trolley car that connects with that wire. There’s power in the wire. That’s what makes the car move.”

  “I don’t see no power,” Rapp said.

  “You can’t see it, but it’s there. See those poles along-side the street.”

  “Yeah.”

  “See those three cross beams; each one spaced apart high up on the pole. And see those wires attached to them. There’s power in those wires, too. They make lights go on at night and do all sorts of other things too, Rap. This is the modern world and it’s here to stay.”

  “Not back home,” Rap said.

  “Not now, but soon, Rap. Soon.”

  “I don’t think I‘m gonna like the modern world.”

  Pacos’s apartment was small and the furnishings were bare. There was only one bed in the room, but with Paco being a small man, it could possibly accommodate one other person.

  “I ain’t sleepin’ with no Mex,” Rap protested.

  “Rap!” Kitty scolded. “Paco’s my friend. You apologize to him right now!”

  Rap’s jaw dropped at the reprimand. His eyes dimmed with hurt.

  “It is all right, Kitty,” Paco said. His English was very good. “I take no offense.” He smiled at Rap.

  Sheepishly, Rap smiled back.

  After the problems they had with Rap while staying in a hotel in Denver, Kitty and Cyclone did not want a repeat of that action. They would be staying in Saint Louis much longer than the one night stay in Denver, so they thought it advisable that Paco’s apartment would be more suitable than a hotel.

  It had been decided that Henry and Rap would stay with Paco. Jeremey would also stay to make sure that Rap behaved himself. Between Paco and Jeremy, they could see to it that there was food and meals provided without having to go out to restaurants.

  Rap was somewhat disappointed as he had enjoyed eating out and didn’t like the idea of being cooped up in the small apartment.

  Jeremy assured him that they would get out some. See the sights and eat out as long as he behaved himself.

  “Behave myself?” Rap protested. “I ain’t no little boy, ya know.”

  “We know you’re not,” Kitty said. “You just might not understand some of the city ways and not know how you are supposed to act. That’s all.”

  “Well, if you say so, Sweetie.” Rap smiled.

  Being somewhat smaller than his two companions, Jeremy would fit in the bed with Paco. Rap and Henry would sleep on the floor.

  “I think I’ll just sleep in this nice chair,” Henry said. He sat gingerly into the beat up cushion of the thread bare stuffed chair. It looked like it had had some color in the past, but now it was just shoddy brown.

  With the others settled in at Paco’s apartment, Kitty, Cyclone, and Dandy Jim, set off with Paco to the Nursing Home on Vandeventor Avenue which was within walking distance a few blocks away. Paco had deliberately found accommodations close by, so he could check on Kitty’s mother every day.

  The Vandeventor Nursing Home was a three story red brick building on the right hand side of the street

  It was a plain building. Probably some seventy years old. Power lines fed from poles to the structure.

  Paco led the way through the tall door. Frosted glass filled the top half of it. In gold lettering, the words “We care and share for your family.” were inscribed in the opaqueness

  The entrance opened into a small vestibule where visitors could leave overshoes or jackets. Beyond it was a medium sized room that served as a lobby. Directly ahead was a large desk. A plump, matronly looking lady looked up, peering through wire rimmed spectacles. She wore a white nurse’s uniform and flipped up nurse’s cap in the thickness of her black, but beginning to gray hair.

  “Hello, Paco,” she greeted with a smile. Then to the others she said, “You must be Abigail’s family. Paco told me you were coming. She’ll be so glad to see you.”

  “How is she today?” Paco asked as he did every day.

  “I think today is one of her good days, but be careful not to tire her too much. The sight of all of you just might be too exciting.”

  “I know,” said Paco.

  “I’m sure,” she said, as Paco led his entourage away and on down the hall.

  Halfway down the hall, Paco stopped in front of a closed door on the left. There was a button on the wall next to it. Paco pushed it hard and it buzzed loudly.

  “What’s that?” Cyclone asked nervously.

  “You’ll see,” said Paco.

  They waited a moment. They could hear sounds on the other side of the door, then it opened. An old man sat on a stool in the back left side corner. There was a lever protruding from the wall.

  “Step in,” Paco said. He stepped in and turned around to face the open door. Dandy Jim and Kitty did the same.

  Cyclone, still facing the rear wall was a bit bewildered and then turned around as his companions had.

  The door in front of them closed. The old man in the corner pulled the lever on the wall. Cyclone felt a jolt beneath his feet and needed to steady himself. “What in tarnation is going on here?” He was almost stammering.

  “Relax, Cy,” Dandy Jim assured him. “This is an elevator.”

  “I thought you said that was some kind of power,” Cyclone said nervously.

  “That was electricity, Cy. This is an elevator. But electricity does power it.”

  Just then the elevator stopped and the old man opened the door. The hall in front of them looked just like the hall they had been on when they entered the elevator.

  “Hmmmph!” Cyclone grunted. “What just happened
.

  Kitty and Jim stepped out of the car. Cyclone followed.

  The hall may have looked the same when the car door opened, but once in the hall, Cyclone could see that everything had changed. There were open doors on each side of the long hallway. There was hustle and bustle all about. Women in white uniforms and men with long white coats zipped and zapped in and out of the rooms.

  “That little room changed everything!” Cyclone exclaimed. “How’d it do that? It’s a devil machine, I tell you.”

  “Grampa,” Kitty said. “The elevator didn’t change anything. It just transported us to a different floor.”

  “It changed the floor too? It is a devil machine, then?”

  “No, Grampa. We were on the first floor before. Now we’re on the third floor.”

  “How could that be?” Cyclone looked confused.

  “Never mind, Senor Cy,” Paco said. “Believe me. Everything is all right. Just follow me. You’ll see.”

  Paco led the way to the room at the end of the hall and on the right.

  As they entered the room, Cyclone could see straight across the room to the large window that looked out on the street side of the building. He could see they were high up, looking out on rooftops. Sounds of busy streets below drifted upwards and could be heard clearly through the glass. The roar of a crowd could be heard somewhere in the distance.

  Next to the window, a frail figure sat in a wicker chair. The back and seat of the chair were padded with thick cushions. Her faded green eyes had turned to light gray and were staring out the window. She didn’t hear her visitors approaching.

  “Senora,” Paco said, drawing her attention. “I have big surprise for you.”

  Her head turned slowly in Paco’s direction. They didn’t register recognition of anything out of the ordinary at first.

  Kitty’ s heart leapt in her throat. Tears began to mist in her eyes and she shuffled forward slowly, fearing that her mother longer knew her, but her pace increased to an almost run as she saw the smile on the old woman’s face.

  Kitty dropped to one knee and her arms wrapped around her mother’s shoulders. Her face buried itself in the thin neck. She could feel the warmth of Abigail Carlin’s hair. She hugged tight and soon she could feel the feeble embrace her mother could return. Abigail burst into tears that dripped onto Kitty’s shoulder. The hug lingered.

  Cyclone, still standing in the doorway, watched the heart felt reunion with a bit of sadness, mixed with joy. He tried to swallow the hard lump in his throat. His eyes watered a bit. He wiped at them and smiled

  Memories flashed by. He could see a young Abigail. Her long auburn hair swishing behind her head and spilling out onto soft shoulders, holding a young Tom Carlin as they danced at a church picnic

  He saw himself, younger. He saw his wife, smiling and laughing. They were all together. The four of them around the supper table. The good days, before a heartbroken Cyrus Carlin stood, hat in hand, head bowed, standing over a fresh grave. Before he rode away; abandoning all. Before he became The Cyclone Kid.

  Kitty and Abigail’s embrace waned and they pulled back from each other: each one gazing unbelieving into each other’s eyes.

  “Oh, Kitty. Is it really you? Paco told me you were coming, but I just couldn’t believe it.” Her voice was thin and faltering.

  “Yes, it’s me, Mom,” Kitty assured her. “How are you?’ She asked as her eyes roamed about Abigail’s frail, thin body. Abigail’s face was drawn and pale. More lines were etched in her face and withered flesh hung in loose ropes beneath her chin and along her throat. “I’ve wanted to come see you for so long. I’ve really missed you.”

  “And I, you,” Abigail answered. She looked past Kitty, over her shoulder. She didn’t seem to acknowledge the two men standing in the doorway. “Did Jeremy come with you?” She asked, concern in her voice.

  “Yes, Mom,” Kitty answered. “But he’ll be along later.” Abigail, seemed a bit disappointed. Her eyelids drooped.

  “But, there’s someone else here who wants to see you.” She tried to make her words sound upbeat and erase her mother’s disappointment. She nodded to Cyclone.

  With hat held in his hand, he came forward slowly; unsure that he should be there, yet elated to see his daughter in law again.

  “Abigail?” He said as he came close.

  He could see her gazing quizzically at him as if seeking to find some recognition. Her expression went blank.

  Again The Cyclone Kid had to wipe droplets from his eyes. He bent down on one knee. His old bones creaked and he felt the pain of his ever increasing rheumatism. He peered closely into Abigail’s thin face. Expectancy and fear filled his gaze.

  “Abby?” Cy said cautiously. “It’s me. Remember.”

  Abigail’s pale face seemed to brighten. Her lips turned at both ends into a slight smile. “Cy. Is it really you? Am I dreaming? Or have I passed on and we finally meet again.”

  “No. It’s me alright, Abby,” Cy said. “I was afraid you wouldn’t know me. I know I’ve aged some since I saw you last, but you recognized me. That’s something. Really something. I was afraid that if you did know me, you wouldn’t want to see me, after what all I done.”

  “Oh, Cy,” she said. “I know how much you hurt, I never blamed you. She raised her arms as if to reach for him.

  Cy fell forward toward her, throwing his big arms about her and hugged her tight. He stroked her hair lovingly and his shoulders shook as he sobbed.

  ****

  Chapter Eight