Devil Dance

by Len Levinson

  Mangas Coloradas and his warriors found spacious caverns, hidden gulches, jagged ledges, and bottomless fissures. Surprise would be unlikely, although the bluecoat Army had managed to destroy well-protected winter camps of the Jicarillas and Mescaleros.

  One day Mangas Coloradas and his warriors came upon Coyuntura sitting in a cave, looking at something in his lap.

  “What have you there?” asked Mangas Coloradas.

  Coyuntura held up the Bible. “It is a holy article of the Mexicanos. But I do not understand its power.”

  Mangas Coloradas accepted it, then flipped the pages. ‘Too bad Sunny Bear is not here, for he could tell you what it means.”

  “Do you think he will ever come back?” inquired Coyuntura.

  Mangas Coloradas thought a few moments, then replied, “Sunny Bear shall return one day, I am certain.”

  The short, battle-scarred warrior known as Chuntz shook his head vehemently, for he never had liked Sunny Bear. “He will not return, because he truly was not one of us.”

  “You are wrong,” insisted the great chief Mangas Coloradas. “Sunny Bear would have stayed forever, were it not for his family in the eastern lands. Sunny Bear may look like a White Eyes, and sometimes he is as stupid as a White Eyes, but in his heart he always will be a warrior of the People. I wish he were here right now, for he would offer valuable counsel.”

  There was a knock on the door, startling Dr. Steck. He cleared his throat and said, “Come in.”

  A tall, brawny man in a black capecoat and tan vaquero hat appeared, accompanied by an angelic-looking child. “Dr. Steck?”

  “At your service,” said good Dr. Steck, for he sincerely wanted to help people.

  “I'm your new assistant—how do you do. Here are my orders. Name's Barrington, and this is my niece, Gloria.”

  Doctor Steck felt his hand being worked, then the child was presented. “Welcome,” he said as he accepted the document, then read it carefully. “I never asked for an assistant, but how did you learn to speak Apache so well?”

  “I lived among them for about a year.”

  “You must be that fellow I heard about—the officer who everyone thought had been killed—yes, of course, Captain Barrington.”

  “That's me, but I've resigned my commission and have devoted myself to making peace among the Americans, Apaches, and Mexicans—impossible though that may be.”

  Dr. Steck smiled. “I have devoted myself to the identical goal, but Washington prefers military solutions, and the military thinks I am an idiot, which I imagine was your evaluation when you were in the Army, isn't that correct?”

  “We thought you didn't realize how treacherous the Apaches were,” admitted Nathanial. “But after living among them, I understand their point of view. This land is not just dirt, but a holy legacy that they feel obligated to defend. You see, everything an Apache does is sacramental, even eating food and killing enemies. America represents not just an attack on their land, but upon their souls. And they don't trust you in the least.”

  Dr. Steck appeared hurt. “Why?”

  “Because you promise what you cannot deliver.”

  “I have been betrayed by Washington, but we can talk more of this later, after we get you settled in.” Dr. Steck turned to the child and said in the musical voice adults employ when speaking with little ones, “How do you like New Mexico, Gloria.”

  “The mountains are beautiful,” replied the former denizen of Five Points, “and my Uncle Nathanial will teach me to ride.”

  “But first,” interjected Nathanial, “I must get her enrolled in school. Is there one?”

  “We've got a schoolmarm, name of Gwendolyn Andrews. Smart woman.”

  “If she's smart, what's she doing at Fort Thorn?”

  “The same thing you and I are doing here—trying to help make the world a more Christian place. She's quite interesting, because she grew up in one of the Shaker communities back east, and if I weren't married . . .” Dr. Steck let his voice trail off whimsically. “She's a tall drink of water, but don't expect a great beauty. Her allure is special, and comes from within.”

  “I don't need another wife,” said Nathanial, “but she sounds ideal for Gloria. Where can I find this paragon of womanhood?”

  “Her classroom's behind the supply room. I guess you'll have to live with me and my wife until suitable quarters can be found.”

  “No, we'll go to Santa Fe, where I have children whom I haven't seen for some time. When I return, perhaps you can have a nice comfortable hut waiting.”

  “Should be enough time, and while in Sante Fe, you can deliver a request for food for the Mescaleros to General Garland. You see, our supplies come from the Army. They are the law in New Mexico Territory, and General Garland is more or less the king. Have you ever met him?”

  “Yes, but I was just a junior officer.”

  “How odd that you and I both prepared for other professions, yet here we are, Indian agents in New Mexico Territory. Perhaps you can help General Garland understand the Apache side better, and accomplish what has eluded me. You might be just what this territory needs.”

  Nathanial felt nostalgic for the Army as he and Gloria rode toward Fort Thorn's schoolhouse, their conveyance a wagon and two workhorses. Nathanial held the reins, and Gloria sat pertly beside him, hands folded in her lap, like a lady. Never had Gloria been in an Army camp, and she liked the cleanliness, orderliness, the feeling of safety that comes from knowing an Army is available to protect a little girl.

  The dragoons were in garrison—cleaning weapons, caring for horses, and performing the janitorial work that was so much a part of every soldier's day. Nathanial found the adobe shack behind the supply room, looked through the window, and saw a tall, gangly woman in a floor-length dark brown dress, with her back to a wall, lecturing fourteen students, three of whom were Indians.

  “Guess we'd better come back some other time,” said Nathanial. “Let's go to the sutler's store until class is out.”

  “Do they have ice cream?”

  “Doubtful, but candy might be possible, and I can get a drink.”

  He lifted her into the air, dropped her onto the seat, and was about to board himself, when he saw a sergeant running toward him. “Well, I'll be damned,” said Nathanial.

  The sergeant had a lumpy nose and large ears, vaguely resembling a muscular leprechaun with red side-whiskers. He came to a halt in front of Nathanial. “I heer'd you was here, and yer uglier'n ever.”

  Nathanial held out his hand. “Sergeant Duffy, how good to see you. And please don't salute, because I'm not in the Army anymore. I'm a damned civilian.”

  “You'll be back,” said Sergeant Duffy. “And who is this little angel?”

  “My name is Gloria.” She held up the clown. “And this is Gerhardt.”

  “He looks like one of the men in my company.” Sergeant Duffy turned to Nathanial. “Gold pros-pectin'?”

  “You're looking at the new assistant to Dr. Steck.”

  “He's the biggest clown in New Mexico Territory.”

  Gloria replied, “I thought Dr. Steck was nice.” Sergeant Duffy reminded her of Five Points.

  “Everybody's nice to cute little gals,” replied Sergeant Duffy, “even me, but that man wouldn't know a bull's ass from a banjo, and now you're a-gonna team up with ‘im?”

  “The killing must stop,” said Nathanial. “I'm convinced of it.”

  Sergeant Duffy chortled. “All you have to do is convince the Apaches.”

  “And the white people, and the Mexicans.”

  “It's been my ‘sperience that the onliest way to convince an Apache of anythin’ is plant a bullet ‘twixt his eyes. That's how I've stayed alive.” He glanced at Gloria. “Apaches love little white girls. How'd you like to be a slave of the Apaches?”

  “They'll have to kill me first,” she said with determination.

  Sergeant Duffy laughed. “I should have you in my company. You've got more sand than most of my ‘cruits.�
�

  The schoolhouse door opened, children spilled outside, and Gloria evaluated them coldly. They don't look any smarter than I, she tried to convince herself. Then the schoolmarm appeared with her horsey face, a slightly off-kilter mouth, and an upturned nose, but she had a friendly smile and long legs; Nathanial always had been partial to long-legged women.

  “New student?” she asked with a smile.

  “I hope so,” replied Nathanial.

  The schoolmarm stood erectly, one palm over the other, as she turned to the child. “What's your name?”

  “Gloria.”

  “I am Miss Andrews.” She glanced at Nathanial. “And who might you be?”

  “Nathanial Barrington, ma'am. I'm Dr. Steck's new assistant, and he recommended you. And this is Sergeant Duffy.”

  Gwendolyn frowned at Sergeant Duffy, who removed his hat and bowed. “Howdy, ma’ am.”

  “Good afternoon, Sergeant Duffy. What are you doing here?”

  “I was jest talkin’ with the cap'n, because he was my commandin’ officer fer a few years, an’ I can vouch fer ‘im.”

  “A dubious endorsement,” replied the schoolmarm, then she looked at Nathanial. “There should be no problem, provided Gloria is willing to work hard, because hard work is the foundation of all other achievements. Don't you agree?”

  “Completely,” replied Nathanial. “She's a good girl and eager to get an education, aren't you, my darling?”

  “Uh-huh.” She didn't appear especially enthusiastic.

  “She can start in the morning,” said Miss Andrews.

  “I'm leaving for Sante Fe,” explained Nathanial, “and I don't have anywhere to leave her, so I'll take her with me, and she can begin when we return.”

  “Her education is more important,” chided Miss Andrews. “She can stay with me.”

  Nathanial smiled. “That's a wonderful idea.”

  “But I want to be with you,” protested Gloria.

  “It is more important to be educated,” stated Nathanial. “I'm sorry—my mind is made up.”

  “You just want to get rid of me,” she pouted. “So's you can get drunk and chase women.”

  Nathanial smiled at the schoolmarm. “The child says the damnedest things.”

  “I suspect she's telling the truth, but I will take care of her, fill her mind with the information she needs to know, and make you proud of her.”

  “You mustn't be real strict. She's not used to rules.”

  “She'll have to get used to them, because even grown-ups must live by rules. Where is her mother?”

  “Died.”

  “A girl needs a woman to teach her what a man can't.”

  “He's taught me a lot,” insisted Gloria. “He's a wonderful teacher.”

  “But,” replied Nathanial, “you require a scientific education, which Miss Andrews has so generously agreed to provide.” Nathanial turned to the schoolmarm. “I'll bring her things to the schoolhouse first thing in the morning, if that's all right.”

  “You can bring them this evening, unless you have a drinking engagement. In the meantime, Gloria and I can get to know each other.” She turned toward her new student. “We can bake cookies.”

  “I love cookies,” said Gloria, her mood abruptly altering.

  Miss Andrews took Gloria's hand, and they headed for the door of the schoolhouse; Gloria didn't look back. Remarkable, thought Nathanial. They promise to love you forever, then leave first time a cookie comes along. “What do you know about the schoolmarm?” he asked Sergeant Duffy.

  “She showed up one day, on her way to Californio where she planned to be a schoolmarm, but found she was needed here. She's good with the children, keeps to herself, don't gossip, real religious, used to be a Shaker they say.”

  “Who's sleeping with her?”

  “Lieutenant Wood—the camp commander. He was with us at the Santa Rita Copper Mines, remember?”

  “How can I forget the ebullient Lieutenant Wood, but I can't help wondering why you haven't pursued the schoolmarm, Sergeant Duffy. Perhaps she's yearning for a grizzled old reprobate such as yourself.”

  “I wouldn't marry a woman taller'n me. Be too much like climbin’ a tree. Who're you married to these days, Captain Barrington?”

  “My present wife is divorcing me, as far as I know.”

  Sergeant Duffy pondered that for several moments. “Well, it ain't none of my bizness, but it seems a man should make up his mind afore he gits married, not afterwards.”

  “If you know so much about marriage, why are you single?”

  “Ain't met the right one. Besides, if'n I git married, I can't go to whorehouses no more.”

  “Don't you find whorehouses sordid after so many years of patronage?”

  “Cap'n Barrington, if I had my way, I'd spend the rest of my life in a whorehouse.”

  “I've just had an idea. How'd you like to accompany me to Santa Fe? Two men riding light shouldn't have any trouble, and you can patronize one of the whorehouses after we arrive.”

  “I can't just run off like that.” Sergeant Duffy snapped his fingers.

  “Leave it to me,” replied Nathanial.

  Nathanial performed an about-face, then marched to the orderly room, where he didn't recognize the sergeant behind the desk. “I'd like to speak with the commanding officer,” he said.

  “He's in his office, sir.”

  Nathanial crossed the orderly room, banged on the appropriate door, and a voice said, “Come in.” Seated behind the desk was a clean-shaven officer with a friendly country face, an Ohioan a few years younger than Nathanial. “Well I'll be damned,” he said. “Captain Barrington—what're you doing here?”

  Nathanial explained recent developments to Lieutenant William Henry Wood, West Point class of ‘49. “In my capacity as assistant Indian agent, I've got to go to Santa Fe. It would be customary to request an escort, but I'll need only one man, Sergeant Duffy.”

  “I'll have Sergeant Branigan write the orders this afternoon. When're you leaving?”

  “Soon as I can. By the way, I left my niece with the schoolmarm. What do you know about her?”

  Wood raised his eyebrows. “Surely you don't have designs—”

  “I understand you've already staked your claim.”

  “I had no idea it was common knowledge, but I hope in the fullness of time that we might be married.”

  “Congratulations. She's got wonderful legs.”

  “Aren't you married?”

  “My wife is divorcing me, actually.”

  “In other words, no man's wife, daughter, or grandmother is safe, because I remember you well, Barrington. I imagine you'll leap on poor Gwendolyn one of these days when I'm not around. If you do, I may feel compelled to shoot you.”

  “I am so disgusted with women,” replied Nathanial, “I refuse to have anything to do with them. They say they love you, and the next day they're with somebody else. From now on, if I need a woman, I'll buy one at the nearest whorehouse. It's the only honest way to deal with the bitches, and I'll never trust another as long as I live.”

  Nathanial stopped for a few snorts at the sutler's store, and it was dark when he returned to the schoolmarm's shed, balancing Gloria's trunk on his shoulder. Miss Andrews opened the door. “We thought the Indians had got you.”

  Nathanial carried the trunk into the combination parlor, dining room, and kitchen. “They wouldn't dare steal Gloria's clothes. Why—General Garland would campaign against them if they tried.” He lowered the trunk to the planked floor, then turned to Gloria. “Are we getting on all right?”

  Gloria nodded, apparently happy to be settled down.

  “Get ready for bed,” he told her. “I want to speak with Miss Andrews alone, and I'll say good-bye before I leave.”

  Gloria looked at them knowingly, then entered the next room, leaving Nathanial and the schoolmarm near the kitchen table.

  “I hope she's not giving you any trouble,” he said.

  “All she need
s is someone to care for her and teach her what's right.”

  “I don't know what she told you, but she's led a harsh life. You must make allowances.”

  “I have always believed children prefer to be good if you give them half a chance.”

  They discussed fees, then Nathanial paid three months in advance. “If you need textbooks or supplies, please let me know. I'll buy whatever the school needs.”

  She smiled. “A benefactor has arrived at last. I have been praying for you, Captain Barrington.”

  “Write everything on a sheet of paper, and I'll forward it to New York. Nothing is too good for children or their teacher. I understand you were a Shaker?”

  She lowered her eyes. “We called it the United Society of Believers.”

  “Don't be embarrassed, because I'm something of a religious fanatic myself, and we have another trait in common, because I've quit the Army, and you've left the society. I became tired of fighting Apaches—how about you?”

  “I wanted to teach children who otherwise might not receive an education.”

  “You're a saint, Miss Andrews.”

  “I have many failings,” she replied, a note of self-disapproval in her voice.

  Nathanial wondered whether to pounce upon the unsuspecting schoolmarm, for he'd always been partial to ladies with long legs. But Gloria waited in the next room, and he might have to kill Lieutenant Wood, who appeared a decent fellow. Nathanial figured a formerly celibate ex-Shaker woman would be gunpowder in the hands of a passionate man. He found himself lusting for his daughter's schoolmarm, and just as he was reaching for her dark brown hair, the bedroom door opened.

  “I'm ready to go to bed,” said Gloria.

  She wore her white silk robe and looked like a cherub, backlit by the candle on the dresser. They followed her into the stark but neat bedroom, she crawled into bed, and they stood on either side of her. Nathanial knew her moods and saw she was satisfied, as if she'd finally found a home, while Miss Andrews had the child she'd always wanted.

  Nathanial leaned over the bed. “Be a good girl, and please don't make trouble for your teacher, all right?”