Bishop pulled Jason aside before dinner and told him how proud he was of how he handled himself during the confrontation. By that time, the bravado Jason had felt at shooting the Scorpion had changed to regret. Bishop’s reassurance that he had done the right thing helped, but only time would clear the picture in his mind. Bishop reminded Jason and the others who had been on the expedition that his version of the story was all that would be told—except what Jenny and Tess might add, which would do nothing to counter Bishop’s tale. And, of course, what they wished to tell their wives.
After dinner, Bishop took the lead in relating the happenings at the Scorpions nest, now known as Scorpion Meadows Farm. He told it accurately except for the neck-breaking and shootings. He knew that the girl that Jason had saved had probably told her mother about Jason shooting the Scorpion and by now all those at Scorpion Meadows knew about it, but he felt certain the story would die there, as it should. He simply said the Scorpions were foolish enough to run into the barn to retrieve their motorcycles and perished in the fire. No one else embellished the story and no one questioned it, though some of the other men and wives, who were not there, knew there was probably more to the story than Bishop told. But, they also knew that was the end of it and Bishop would never speak of it again.
That night, as they laid in their beds, Bishop, Bud, Cole, and Matt each told their wives what really happened. Even Jen was a bit shocked, even though she’d been there. She and Cole decided they needed to talk to Jason and went to his sleeping room to reassure him that he had performed well. Their reassurance helped him greatly and he was finally able to relax and go to sleep. Being hailed a hero, even if only by the girl and her mother, was reward enough for him—and he slept soundly.
Carly awoke, as she often did, in the wee hours of the morning and, by flashlight, wrote about the past two days’ events and concluded that, “…sometimes, the only way to end a scorpion threat is to burn out the nest—with the scorpions in it.” Thus ended the Scorpion War and started a network of cooperative farms and trading partners.◘
Chapter 38
The Stenton Farm
In the days that followed the Scorpion War everyone settled back into their routine. In the afternoons, when it began to get hot, Carly, Tara, and Tess gathered all the children in the Meeting Hall and had school. The children actually looked forward to it—maybe because it was a lot easier than pulling weeds in the gardens and fields, or gathering rocks to rebuild the old defensive wall on the outcropping, or the room fan Jack had hooked up in the tent. But, for whatever reason, they were eager learners. And, though Tess had to translate some things for the Amado children, none were more eager than she to learn all there was to learn.
It was the last week in May, in fact, Carly recorded it later as the 29th of May, Memorial Day, in the early morning hours just before dawn, when Carly heard a soft meow outside the tent. She was immediately alert and listened—there it was again. She grabbed her flashlight and ran to the front door. When she opened the door, in walked Chloe followed in a train by six kittens that looked to be about six months old. Chloe’s fur was matted and she looked like she had lost weight, but otherwise appeared healthy.
Carly knew the kittens weren’t Chloe’s because she had been spayed. So, the kittens were a mystery. Probably adopted by Chloe, she thought, after something happened to their mother. And probably part of the feral cat population that had occupied the Forest Service administration building area. Chloe headed right to her water and food bowl, which Carly had regularly made fresh, hoping Chloe would return. The kittens paraded behind her and before long there were seven heads bobbing up and down in the water and food bowls. Carly just stood there, tears on her cheeks, letting the cats have their fill.
Then Chloe made the first move, walking over to Carly, purring loudly, and rubbing up against her ankles. At first the kittens were standoffish, but following Chloe’s lead, joined in. Carly picked up Chloe to pet her and was rewarded by a head-butt. It wasn’t long before the rest of the Westin clan, alerted by Carly’s scamper to the front door and the activity in the front room, where Chloe’s dishes were kept, came out to see what was going on. It was Kiera who let out a little scream and ran to Chloe. Dropping to the floor Chloe immediately came into her lap and was quickly joined by the kittens.
“Where did the kittens come from?” asked Kiera.
“We’re not sure,” responded Carly. “They must be her new family.”
“Can we keep them?—Can I name them?—Can they sleep with me?” Kiera asked in rapid fire succession.
It was Tara that responded. “Yes, we can keep them and you can name them, but I think they all will need baths before they get into anyone’s bed, including Chloe,” she said.
Tara immediately went to the field kitchen to begin heating water while Carly and the children, who had by now all gathered, sat on the floor, petting and playing with the kittens. Chloe sat in Carly’s lap, proudly observing the lovefest, which was obviously mutual.
Kiera, sitting at Carly’s feet, had her faced screwed up in thought; a look her grandmother recognized immediately. “What are you thinking about, Kiera?” asked Carly.
“I’ve decided that I’m going to name the kittens after the Seven Dwarfs,” replied Kiera.
“But there are only six kittens,” reminded Carly.
“I know, Grandma, but no one should be named Dopey. That’s rude,” she said in an exasperated voice.” So, that’s how the kittens were named Doc, Grumpy, Happy, Sleepy, Bashful, and Sneezy. Kiera and Manny knew which ones were which almost immediately, but it took the others considerably longer.
Once bathed and dried, Chloe and the kittens became a regular fixture in Duwa and all freely wandered from tent to tent and throughout the village. Even Jackson and Belle welcomed the newfound playmates.
◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘
Matt, who had been thinking about the Stentons since the happenings at the Scorpion Meadows farm, approached Mattie at breakfast the morning of Chloe’s return. He could see that, all the talk about possible marriages and Chloe’s return had affected her. She was now 17. “How’d you like to take a trip over to the Stenton farm with me?” he asked her.
Her face immediately lit up, as she responded, “Oh Daddy, do you really mean it? When?”
“I don’t see why today wouldn’t be as good a day as any, if your Uncle Cole will lend us his truck.”
Cole, who had heard the whole exchange immediately responded, “It’s yours whenever you want it. You don’t even have to ask. Why don’t you see if Jason wants to ride along as shotgun, too? Not that I expect anything will happen but it’s always good to be prepared.”
“Good idea, Colb, and thanks,” he said. “How about you, Jase, are you up to a little trip over to Cornville?” Jason was eager to join in, strengthening his role as Security Director. It was decided that Philip and Jaime could make the security walk on the mesa while they were gone.
Matt suggested they take a change of clothing, just in case they needed to stay overnight. He said this with a wink to Kristen. “I’ll also take a radio with me to let you know when we’re about to come back into the Ranger Station, if you haven’t already spotted us,” he added.
The trip to Cornville and the Stenton farm was uneventful. They used the paved road all the way to Stenton’s gravel drive. There was great excitement when they pulled up to the large farmhouse and were greeted by the Stentons, none more so than Little Hank and Mattie. Matt couldn’t miss the spark between the two, nor could Mrs. Stenton.
Matt, Henry, Jason, and JR toured the farm while the two teenagers got reacquainted, though it didn’t appear to Matt that there was much reacquainting to be done. Henry Stenton was rightfully proud of his farm and quick to show off his water system, large reserves of fuel oil, planted fields as far as the eye could see, being tended by field hands, cattle and cows, grazing horses, pigs, sheep, goats, and chickens. He has enough to sustain him forever, thought Matt. Makes our little village s
pare by comparison.
That afternoon, after a supper spread the like of which Matt and Mattie had not seen for some time, despite the marvels that Michael and Maria whipped up, Matt gave Henry and JR a first-hand report of the Scorpion War. He didn’t leave out anything, because he felt they deserved to know the truth and thereby know that the Scorpions were no longer a threat to the communities surrounding Rim Rock. Though they hadn’t made a foray to Cornville, the Stentons knew that it would just have been a matter of time—and their farm would have been rich pickins. Matt told them about the trading alliance that was forming as a result of the war and who the leaders of each of the new trading partners were. He asked Henry and JR if they would be interested in joining.
“I would consider it an honor,” responded Henry. “We have extra that we can share if the need arises, though it sounds like all the partners, except y’all, already have what you might need—well except for the salt and cotton. Yeah, we’re in,” he exclaimed.
That evening while sitting on the porch with a warm lemonade, Mrs. Stenton joined the men. “I think we have a budding romance here,” she said quietly. “They’ve known each other a long time, almost since they were born, and it appears they’d like to continue that relationship. Why don’t you leave Mattie here with us for a couple of weeks, Matt, and let’s see if there’s anything to it, and we’ll bring her back to you then. She can stay here in the main house,” she added with an impish smile.
“Sure,” chimed in Henry, ”and Mattie can show us how to get back to your Duwa. At least for now we have plenty of gas to operate our truck. What do you say?”
Matt was surprised, but pleased, with the Stentons acceptance of Mattie as a potential member of their family, and he certainly had no reservations about Little Hank. As they said, they all had known each other for a long time. “I guess it’s up to the two of them,” referring to Mattie and Little Hank, “and if that’s what they’d like, it’s fine with me. And, of course, it was fine with them.
“There’s one thing we’ll need to work out,” Matt said, before they broke to go to bed, “we’ll need to know when you’re coming so we can unlock the gates. We use two-way radios, but they don’t have a long enough range to work from here, nor do we have any to spare.”
“Don’t you never mind,” responded Henry, “we’ve got just the answer.” He went into the house and came out with a trumpet and an old bugle. “These haven’t seen much use in a while,” he said. “In fact, I can’t remember the last time they were used. A bit dusty, too,” he said as he rubbed accumulated dust off the two instruments. “But they still blow.” And he blew into each one in turn. “You take the bugle. When we get close to wherever Duwa is, and Mattie can tell us, we’ll blow the trumpet: two shorts and one long,” as he demonstrated. Matt knew he’d have no problem hearing that trumpet up at Duwa if they blew it once they’d turned off of the old Beaverhead Road onto 179. “Then, when you hear us, you can answer with the bugle, giving the same two shorts and a long. Ain’t that the cleverest thing you’ve ever seen?” Henry exclaimed, followed by a big, hearty laugh.
“Works for me,” said Matt. “Let me give it a try.” And, he did. And, after several tries, it worked. And he joined in the continued laughter, as much at himself as anything. Henry asked Matt if there was anything he needed or that he’d like to take back to Duwa. Matt told him.
The next morning, after one of the most comfortable sleeps he had had in some time, because the Stenton farmhouse was large, with many bedrooms, and “real” beds, Mrs. Stenton had a big breakfast ready. When Matt went out to his truck in preparation for leaving, he found the back of the truck loaded with bales of hay and several cages of chickens. And, in a separate cage, a rooster. “What’s all this?” Matt asked Henry.
“Well,” replied Henry, “you told me you wanted some fresh eggs, which meant you didn’t have chickens. And, without chickens you don’t have chickens to eat. And, without a rooster you won’t keep breeding more chickens to replace those you eat. Ergo,” he said with a big smile, “you now have chickens and a rooster. The hay is to use for making nests for them to lay their eggs in. You know about that stuff, don’t you Matt?”
“Yes, I do,” replied Matt, “and I thank you very much. All the more so because I didn’t have to ask.”
“Well, it’s all in the family,” replied Henry, as he gave Matt a wink and glanced at Little Hank and Mattie standing nearby holding hands.
Matt gave Mattie a big hug and a fatherly kiss on her forehead. “I’ll see you in two weeks,” he said, as he and Jason, who hadn’t said too much the whole time, climbed into the truck and headed back to Duwa.
“Don’t forget, two shorts and a long,” Henry said as they pulled away from the house. Matt waved back at them.
“What’s in the plastic bags?” Jason asked Matt as they drove away.
“Just a little surprise for Travis,” Matt replied.
“Doesn’t smell too good,” said Jason. “And, what’s the tall thing wrapped in burlap?”
“That’s a surprise for Michael and all the kids,” was his reply.
“They’re pretty special people,” Jason said. “I think Mattie won’t do any better than Little Hank, especially in Duwa.”
“I agree,” said Matt, thinking, my little girl is growing up and it appears she’s ready to leave the nest. And then, he started thinking about the chickens in the back of his truck.
As they turned off Beaverhead Road on to 179, Horse Mesa could be seen, highlighted by the sun, just a quarter of a mile to the north. Matt stopped a few hundred yards on and pulled out the bugle. Two shorts and a long blasted out from the horn, making Jason cover his ears; and then Matt repeated the signal. Then he keyed his two-way radio: “Duwa, this is Matt calling. Do you copy?”
“This is Bishop, Matt. Was that you that made that god-awful noise we heard?”
“Yup, that was me,” Matt responded. “Glad you could hear it. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back. We’re on our way in now.”
◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘
The excitement of their return was only matched by the surprise at the cargo they were carrying and the absence of Mattie. Matt could see the questioning look in Kristen’s eyes and immediately explained what had happened. She smiled and with a knowing nod asked, “And, what in god’s name is that smell from your truck?” Matt explained that the smell emanated from six plastic bags of horse manure he had brought back for Travis’ worm farm. “Now we should have lots of healthy worms to loosen the soil in our gardens and to feed the fish,” Travis said as he pinched his nose.
“And, the chickens?” Kristen inquired.
“Well,” he said, “chickens give us fresh eggs and chicken meat, and the rooster gives us more chickens and an early alarm clock,” to which he laughed at his own joke.
“And, this one’s for you, Michael,” he said as he carefully lifted the burlap wrapped package from the back of the truck. “This is fresh milk, just milked a couple of hours ago, for the children. Thought it might be a special treat. And it was.
◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘
As Tanner had suggested while Matt was gone, he, Colby, Bishop and Jorge, had selected a somewhat level spot out on the promontory overlooking Woods Canyon, and, with shovels, McCleods, picks, and rakes had cleaned and leveled the site to accommodate the former greenhouse supply tent. They then took down the tent and moved it to the new site. As they were completing their project, Kiera, who had been running around playing tag with Manny on the promontory suddenly yelled, “Daddy, look at that!”
“Look at what, Sweetie?” Tanner asked as he looked around and didn’t see anything.
“Down there,” she said, “they’re cows.”
Tanner and the other men walked up to where Kiera and Manny were standing and, sure enough, down below, in the Woods Canyon flood plain, was a herd of cattle. They had found a small patch of winter wheat that had flowed off Duwa Valley during that first rain, taken root, and had sprouted.
>
“Well,” said Colby, “now we know that we really do have beef in the Canyon and we know that a small stand of wheat will draw them out. I think it’s about time we put Jorge to work and had some beef.”
◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘
As Matt had pulled into the parking area at Duwa, he had seen the tent out on the promontory and smiled as he visualized the plan that he had been formulating in his mind on the trip home from Stenton’s farm—the old greenhouse would make a great chicken coop.
Without any objection from Travis, and with the help of Jason and Tate, they quickly moved the remaining potted plants and seed trays to the new greenhouse. They removed the center aisle planting bench and scattered straw on the floor and on the remaining benches. Matt released the chickens and the rooster into their new home and threw out a handful of cracked corn and soy bean, from a sackful that Henry had also placed in the truck bed. He would build the nesting boxes later. But, first, he got Colby’s help building a fence surrounding the new chicken house and the area previously occupied by the supply tent, using the chicken wire and fence posts they had emancipated from Ace Hardware almost a year ago. Colby built a nice gate, with a latch, and the next day he and Matt built the nesting boxes, after collecting a few fresh eggs that had been laid in the hay. Indeed, the new alarm clock worked just fine that morning, as well.
◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘
The new “honeymoon suite,” as it was now called, was oriented to the west so the inhabitants would not be awakened by the first rays of the morning sun and could see inside the tent in the waning hours of the day, as the sun sank below the mesa in the west. The tent had its own floor but the men put a trench around the exterior to help with rain runoff, anyway. Then they built a low, dry-stack rock wall, only 12” high, around the exterior of the tent, to allow the tent’s occupants to roll the sides of the tent up and allow air circulation and just to gussie it up a bit, as Tanner had said, while still maintaining some privacy. A couple of folding chairs were placed in the tent along with a small table on which a comforter and two pillows were stacked. It was Carly’s idea to move a sofa bed from the large storage tent to the honeymoon tent. Carly indicated it wasn’t the most comfortable bed to sleep on but better than a cot or the floor. The adults suspected the honeymooners wouldn’t even notice. Because they didn’t expect more than the two potential weddings for some time to come, since the other young people still had some maturing to do, it was determined that the honeymoon suite could double as a quiet place for anyone who needed it. In fact, in the coming months it became a favorite place for the children to play. So much for the quiet.
Sinagua Rising Page 46
