the Lonesome Gods (1983)

by L'amour, Louis

  Often, when we had settled in our seats, he would talk to as very generally on some topic that he considered important or that occupied his mind at the moment. "Actually," he said one morning, "all education is self-education. A teacher is only a guide, to point out the way, and no school, no matter how excellent, can give you an education.

  "What you receive is like the outlines in a child's coloring book. You must fill in the colors yourself.

  "I hope, in these classes, to give you an idea of where you came from, how you got here, and what has been said about it."

  When we started to leave the room, I found Meghan beside me. She looked around at me and said, "What do you think of him? Of Mr. Fraser?"

  "I like him. I think he wants to be a writer."

  "I wonder where he went to school?"

  "In Scotland, I believe. He is Scottish," I said. Then, fearful of seeming to know too much about him, I added, "Fraser is a Scottish name."

  This was one of the first times Meghan had struck up a conversation with me yet I was worried. I did not want to be talking about him because if I seemed to know too much it might start somebody thinking and wondering how I knew.

  "Your father is a captain of a ship?" I said.

  "Yes. Only he says he is the master. He does not use the word 'captain.' He sails to China," she added. "And he has been around the Horn several times."

  I said nothing to that. She glanced at me. "You are from the East?"

  "Most of us are. I mean, unless we are Spanish." "My father thinks you are an interesting boy."

  Startled, I said, "Your father? He does not know me!" "He has seen you. And I have told him about how well you read. He says you remind him of someone." Suddenly I was scared. I wanted to talk to her but I was afraid of what she might ask, and I did not want to lie.

  "I have to read well," I explained. "I work at the book shop for Miss Nesselrode."

  "Papa said he would like to meet you someday. He said I must bring you home sometime."

  "I'd like that," I said.

  We had come to a corner. "I've got to go to the shop now," I said. "I promised to help."

  We parted there, but as I turned away I saw Rad standing across the street, glaring at me. Once, when I looked back, he was still standing there, but Meghan had gone on home.

  Miss Nesselrode was donning her hat when I came in. "I have to go out for a few minutes, Johannes. Will you mind the shop?"

  She left and I gathered up some scattered newspapers and rearranged them, straightened books on the shelves, and had just taken down Pym when the door opened.

  It was Fletcher.

  He was better dressed than he had been in the wagon, and his beard was trimmed carefully now and he had a sense of confidence about him, and seemed less surly. "How are you, boy? Long time since we come west together."

  "Is there something you want?"

  He smiled, but it was not a pleasant smile. "Your pa got killed," he said. "I guess he wasn't so handy after all."

  "There were a lot of them!" I said. "There were too many of them."

  "Maybe ... maybe there was." He grinned at me. "You got a nerve, boy, stayin' here in town with those about who'd like you dead."

  My heart began to beat heavily. I was frightened. Yet I tried not to let him know.

  "I been watchin', boy. Don't you think I've forgotten." Suddenly he leaned his hands on the desk. "I never liked you, boy, nor your pa either. He thought himself too good.

  "Well, he's gone, but I got you. I got you right where I want you, and when it's worth my while, I'll do something about it.

  "That Nesselrode woman, now. What's she up to? I figured she was comin' west to catch herself a husband, but now I ain't so sure. Not if what I hear is true."

  I said nothing, but I was hoping she would not come back, not now. There was a pistol in the desk drawer. I wondered if I could get to it quick enough.

  "I hear she's been dealin'. Makin' herself some money. Makes me wonder what she'd pay to keep me quiet about you."

  "Me?" I tried to speak very casually, carelessly. "Why would she pay for me? I was an orphan and she took me in. Gave me a home." I looked up at him. "I work for her."

  Taking up some books, I returned them to the shelves. "You must be crazy," I said. "She took me in because I didn't have a home. If you asked her for money, she would just laugh and then she'd probably turn me out. She'd think I was too much trouble."

  When I returned from the shelves, I walked right to the desk. He was close to me but I was also close to the gun. He was scowling now and I think what I said had made him doubt. "Nobody cares about me." I tried to sound bitter. "She's the only one who's treated me decent." "Maybe." He took out a cigar and lighted it. "That house, now, the one down in the desert? That belong to your pa?"

  "We stayed in it. That's all."

  "I been wonderin' about that. Comin' by there a while back, I saw a light in the window. Thought at first it was you, but it wasn't. I couldn't get close enough to see, but there was somebody in there, somebody big." He scowled as if puzzled. "Real big."

  My heart was pounding now but I tried not to seem interested. "Some of the Indians stay there sometimes when they are in from the desert," I said.

  Suddenly his manner changed. He smiled in what he probably believed was a friendly manner. "Aw, forget it, kid! I was just funnin' with you! Matter of fact, I thought your pa was quite a man. Quite a man."

  He glanced around. "Now, a boy like you, in a place like this, he could make himself a bit of money now and again."

  He took his cigar from his mouth and leaned closer. "You an' me, we come over the trail Cgether. We're friends. If you was to hear some talk, somethin' about business deals, somethin' like that, and if you was to tell me ... ?" He knocked the ash from his cigar and put it back in his teeth.

  "More'n that, there's talk of rebellion. Talk of the Yanks cumin' out here. That there Wilson, he'd know about that. Or Stearns. He's supposed to be a Mexican citizen, but ... You hear anything, boy, you come to me. You tell me what you've heard, an' I'll pay."

  He grinned at me from around his cigar; then he winked. "Pards, that's what we are! Pards! You an' me!"

  "Miss Nesselrode will be coming back in a minute," I said.

  He went to the door. "All right, I'm goin', but you remember!"

  He went out and the door closed behind him.

  Chapter 25

  Often at night we heard gunshots. Usually they were from Sonora Town, but that did not mean the antagonists were always Mexican or Californio. Just as often, m proportion to their numbers, they were Anglos. Killings were frequent; knifings and cuttings of varying degrees took place almost every day.

  Occasionally groups of vaqueros from one of the nearby ranchos would come galloping down the street to swing down at the nearest cantina and troop inside, spurs jingling and jangling.

  Women did not walk on the streets after sundown unless going to or from a fandango or haile, and then they were usually accompanied by someone of the family. Yet one night, awakening suddenly when it was almost midnight, I heard voices from the outer room.

  Surprised, and a little anxious, I listened. But the voices were those of women. "I have come to you for help. There is no one else."

  "Of course, Dona Elena. How may I help you?"

  "I do not know of business. Of things with money. My people do not think of money. We ... we exchange. One thing for another, you sec? You have the shop. The place of the libros, the books.

  "I know nothing, but it has been said that sometimes you do business. I do not know of this. There is a woman with a cantina toward San Pedro. She speaks of you with admiration."

  "What is it you wish?"

  "I wish to use money. I wish to do business. I wish to be rich from my money."

  Miss Nesselrode was hesitating, but finally she said, "Always there is risk. If one would make money, one must be prepared to lose, also."

  "This I understand. It is like gambling, I thi
nk. It is like the cards. Sometimes they fall one way, sometimes another. I know nothing of business, but I think you do." "What of your brother?"

  "He knows nothing. He thinks of nothing. He would despise me if he knew. He would not allow it. He borrows money, but has contempt for those who lend. He is hidalgo. He will pay when he wish. Nobody will ask that he pay."

  "The Yankees will ask. They will insist."

  "This I hear."

  Miss Nesselrode was quiet for a few minutes, as if thinking. "Do you have money? Will not your brother know?"

  "I have money, but he does not know. It is from our mother." Dona Elena looked down at her hands. "My mother knows I have no husband. My father and my brother think no one is good enough, so I have no one, but my mother understands and in secret she has given me money, gold money, and jewels.

  "The woman from the cantina. She says money can work for money. I have thought you could tell me what to do. You see, I could not appear. I am Dona Elena."

  "Of course. You wish me to help. How?"

  "Make my money work. I will pay."

  Miss Nesselrode changed the subject. "Your rancho? It is large?"

  "Very large."

  "Your brother borrows money? Has he borrowed much?" "Very much, I think. He needs much money, and the cow skins, they do not bring much. He waves a hand, says all will be different soon, and he borrows."

  "Do you know who he has borrowed from?"

  "This one and that. A little here, a little there."

  "This work you want your money to do? Is it that you need money now?"

  "Oh, no! It is for tomorrow, for a long time off." I saw her lift her eyes to Miss Nesselrode's. "It is for when I am dead."

  "If you will risk losing it, I will help." She paused. "Is there any particular thing you wish?"

  "One thing, first. I wish some to work, to bring more money. I wish some to buy the old debts of my brother." "I see."

  "He must not know. He must never know. He would be furious. He would destroy me. He would destroy the lender. He would destroy you."

  Miss Nesselrode smiled. "I do not destroy easily, Doha Elena."

  "If he knew I had money, he would demand it from me, and I must give it."

  "He will not know. Can you bring the money here?" Dona Elena took up a cloth bag from the floor. "I have it here. I have some." She placed the bag on the table and reached a hand into it, trickling gold coins to the table. Then from the bag she took a smaller bag, and opening the drawstrings, tilted something to the table that gleamed in the dim light. "I have these, also."

  "It is quite a lot. You trust me with these?"

  "You are a good woman. I feel this. And you have been good to the nino."

  If there was more, I did not hear, for I fell asleep and when I awakened again the room was dark and there was no sound but the soft drip of rain from the eaves, the rain for which we all had waited.

  I lay awake thinking of Tia Elena. Women of her class were kept in the background, often knowing nothing of the financial circumstances of their husbands or fathers, having nothing to do with business.

  What led Aunt Elena to make such a move? I did not know unless she wished some independence, some security. And how had she known of Miss Nesselrode's knowledge? Or did she know? Did she only come to the one friend she had outside her own circle? The one who would not talk?

  Lying there awake with the rain falling softly, my thoughts returned to the house of Tahquitz, far off in the desert.

  Fletcher had seen the shadow of someone in the house, a very large someone. Of course, it could have been a passerby stopping for the night, as the Indians would not go near the place at night. It might have been the mysterious exchanger of books.

  Suddenly I felt guilty. There had been no new books. I had failed him ... or it. Somehow I must arrange for new books to be taken to the house.

  So much time had gone by! Going to school, working at the shop, riding around the country, exploring ... The months simply vanished.

  When I opened my eyes again it was morning and I could hear Jacob talking. Dressing quickly, I went out to see him. He was drinking coffee and talking to Miss Nesselrode.

  "It would take some doin'," he was saying, "but there's thousands of wild horses in the San Joaquin, and some mighty good stock, too. Nobody's bothered them for years. With a trap at a water hole, a body could round up a few."

  "How many men would it take?"

  "Four or five, maybe."

  She turned to me. "Johannes, would your Indian friends help? I would pay them."

  "They might. I could talk to them."

  "Kelso's in town. I think he'd like a job, and he's a good hand with stock and he's steady."

  "All right. You and Johannes plan it, then. I believe that soon Johannes will have learned about all Fraser can teach him, and an adventure like this would do him good."

  "How many horses you figurin' on? A couple of dozen?" She smiled. "I was thinking of four or five hundred. Or as many as you can handle with ease."

  "Four or five hundred? Ma'am, you must be--"

  "I am perfectly serious, Mr. Finney. I want several hundred horses and I want them broken to ride. If you find any mules among them, and I've heard escaped mules do run with the wild herds, I'd want them, too."

  "Breakin' that many horses might take a year. Months, anyway. I mean including catchin' time."

  "Were you going someplace, Mr. Finney? We have the time. There is plenty of grass, and I believe there will be a market soon. The best stock, I'd like selected for breeding purposes, and we will keep that lot in close to town." "If you say so, ma'am."

  She gathered the papers she had been discussing with Jacob. "I would like Mr. Kelso to work for me here, to fill in for you, Mr. Finney. People are beginning to realize that we work together, and I'd like to use somebody else for a time. You and Johannes can handle the horses." She stood up, holding her papers; then she looked at me. "Neither age nor size makes a man, Johannes. It is willingness to accept responsibility. Besides, I want you out of town for a while."

  She turned to glance at Finney. "Mr. Finney? Have you heard any talk of war with Mexico?"

  "War? No, ma'am. I heard talk of some Anglos up north. Seems there's some trappers, maybe soldiers, too, up at Sutter's Fort. There's always rumors, though." "It is more than a rumor, Mr. Finney. There is a war, and I am afraid there will be trouble here. If we Americans are wise, there need be no fighting."

  "How do you mean?"

  "Mr. Finney, most of the leaders among the Californios are intelligent men. California is far from Mexico City, and trade is forbidden except with Mexico. The people are denied many of the things they could enjoy, and they lose the profits from foreign trade.

  "If the American government is intelligent, all can be accomplished through diplomatic channels. Yet if the Californios are challenged, they will fight. It would be a matter of honor."

  "Have you talked to Abel Stearns about this?"

  "Not really. Mr. Stearns is a Mexican citizen and will take no part in whatever is done. I believe he feels it is inevitable, but he is loyal and will take no part in activities against the government. Nor will I, although I am not a citizen here. Actually, I have no legal right to conduct a business. I am overlooked partly because I am a woman and partly because the local officials like what I am doing."

  "You think there will be fighting?"

  "I am afraid so. The leader of one of the groups is Fremont. He is said to be ambitious."

  Finney smiled slyly. "Aren't we all?"

  Her eyes showed her amusement. "Of course, Mr. Finney, but there are ways of using ambition. One must not be rash.

  "Jedediah Smith showed the way here, others followed, and they have prospered, but change can take place quietly and should be handled with discretion. Have you ever talked to General Vallejo, Mr. Finney?"

  "Seen him a time or two. Talked to him? No."

  "I have. Several times, in fact. General Vallejo is very intellige
nt, above all he is a realist. He is a Californian first, everything else after. I think our Mr. Fremont or whoever is to handle the situation should sit down and talk to the general. Above all, Mr. Fremont should listen. "Or he should come south, alone, and talk to Pio Pico. After talking to Pio he should get a few of the genre de razon together over a good meal, a bottle of wine, and their cigars. Above all, he should not attempt to dictate, but be guided by what the genie de raz6n advise. I believe everything could be arranged as something between gentlemen, do you understand?"

  "I do, ma'am, and you may be right. I'm afraid the Anglos are expecting a fight."

  When he had gone, I asked, "Miss Nesselrode, what is happening?"

  She worked at her papers for a moment, then said. "A few years ago Texas fought a war for her independence. The United States recognized her independence and Mexico was unhappy about it.

  "Now, almost ten years later, Texas has applied for admission to the Union and we have admitted Texas as a state. Mexico said that if we did so they would consider it an act of war. Not long ago a Mexican force crossed the Rio Grande and wiped out an American patrol.

  "Before coming west, I had talked with some gentlemen from Mexico, who assured me Mexico would go to war if Texas was admitted to the Union. They were quite confident, and with reason, as their standing army is several times the size of ours.

  "As a matter of fact, the United States is in no condition for war. We have less than twenty-five thousand men under arms and they are scattered across the frontier protecting settlers."

  "Will we be beaten?"

  "I doubt it, Johannes. Our Constitution provides that no law shall forbid us from keeping and bearing arms because of the necessity for a militia. We have a militia of a sort, but our greatest strength lies in the fact that so many of our people not only possess weapons but also understand their use, and above all they are prepared to defend themselves against any sudden attack by an enemy. "You will remember that we won our freedom because we were armed. We were not a simple peasantry unused to weapons. The men who wrote our Constitution knew our people would be safe as long as they were armed." She gathered her papers and placed them in a leather case. "I was a woman alone, Johannes. I weighed the circumstances and decided to come west, believing California would become a part of our country.