Chapter 10

Cora

Good Lord. What am I going to do?

The sheriff stopped out at the house. It’s been three days.

“Ma’am,” he started.

“Shit!” I said. “Found him dead, or didn’t find him at all.”

“Not sign one, not even tracks leading away,” he said. “It’s like he wasn’t even in the Dodge. Are you available to come to town?”

“Why?”

“To collect his outfit ... and tell us what’s missing ... and maybe explain the bricks.”

He grinned at that.

I blushed.

“You see, ah ... fuck ... he didn’t ask me to go. I didn’t Want to go ... I had things I needed to get done ... but he didn’t know that. And he didn’t ask the kids ... both David and Rebecca were getting kinda partied out. We pretty much let ‘em run wild at the shoots. There were always a bunch of kids their age there ... and David was under instruction to keep an eye on Beck ... well ... except at the Custer shoot. Custer, South Dakota. Dozens of lodges. Big shoot.

“A bunch of boys carried her back pretty loaded. But she wasn’t molested ... I checked. Anyway ... Chuck might have wanted to go ... did you, Charley?”

“Nope, I get too tired,” Charles said.

“So ... he didn’t ask and I thought ... I packed him up so he could make an early start and ... since ... well ... I packed up the food box with the biggest cast-iron skillet, three cans of peaches and that pile of bricks. He never looked inside, just hefted and kissed me. Like he was saying, ‘she feeds me good.’

He said, ‘I’m going 14A to have a look at Hawkins and Powers‘ ... they’re the Fire Bombers. Hairy Dave is an Aviation Nut... Hawkins and Powers has a bunch of Consolidated PB4Y-2 Privateers ... that’s a B-24 with a single tail ... last time we were there, they let us out on the field and he crawled all over one of the parts planes. ‘Then Thermop and have a look at the herd’ ... the state auctions off their surplus buffalo ... on the hoof ... and we’ve bought one before ... tasty ... them hump ribs ... very tasty. Anyway ... that’s the reason for the bricks. He didn’t ask if I wanted to go ... and I was miffed.”

I chuckled and broke into tears.

Sobbing now, “I ... didn’t ... mean ... I mean ... shit!”

So ... we went to the impound lot...

One look at the Dodge and Beck started crying ... David was trying not to ... and Chuck said it.

“That’s a mess ... there’s no way he could have lived through that.”

And it was ... mostly in pieces and damn near unrecognizable as a vehicle. I remembered my duty and looked through the torn up stuff.

I was getting frantic.

“Ok ... where’s his gun and possibles bag ... and I can’t find the tipi.” I was upset ... that gun was worth two years rent. I kept pawing through the rubble when I found his hat. That was when I was resigned to his demise. If he could ... the hat would go with.

The hat, his pride and joy, was a 5X Stetson ... but crowned only. The brim was HUGE. A slight imperfection, a quarter inch long cut, that wouldn’t be cut out when blocked, made it a factory second and thus ... cheap. The brim was wide enough to cover his shoulder blades. A big safety pin ... period authentic ... held the front brim straight up ... like the hat Gabby Hayes wore in the Roy Rogers movies ... except grey.

I put it on ... it fell over my ears. I pulled the sides together like a poke bonnet and said, “Pearl Pureheart, sheriff. Thanks for pulling me off the railroad tracks.”

I made a tricorn and saluted, “Thanks for getting me across the river, General.”

I turned the upraised brim sideways and assumed an Australian accent, “Leftenant Parker, Colonel. I’ll volunteer to lead the charge.” And I broke into tears.

Shit, shit, shit ... he’s gone there’s no hope.

“Sheriff ... he’d never leave his hat behind. He’s dead.”