Chapter 15

Karen

All seven interested men called.

When I answered three of the men hung up.

“Sorry, wrong number.”

“Wait! Flint lock rifles?”

“Umh ... yes.”

“You called the right number,” I said, “Tell me what kind of flintlock you’re interested in.”

“What makes you think you can teach the manly art of rifle making?”

“Because I’m sitting here looking at one I built.”

“I’d like to see that,” he scoffed.

“2227 US 14,” I said. “It’s off the road a bit. If there’s a Green Jeep Station Wagon in front of the shop, I’m there. Don’t look for me before 7:30 ... a girl’s gotta eat sometime. And it’s a 26 mile round trip.”

“I’ll be there.”

“If you’re not consider yourself dropped.”

It went like that until 11pm.

Class the next day was a bust ... like the past week and a half. Boring. At 3 in the afternoon I went home. I stopped at Albertson’s for a fresh tomato, onion and head of lettuce. And some hamburger buns. I drove out 87/9o and jumped off at Monarch.

Monarch is falling into decay. The church and the bank are still there but the roof has fallen in at the company store. Several of the better houses have been moved into Sheridan or Ranchester but the shotgun houses are all gone for bunkhouses at the various ranches in the area.

Coming down the long hill on 90/87 I could still see houses at Kleenburn and Acme ... and a little rising heat at the underground coal fire. The area indians say the fire has been burning as long as they remember. Shame ... good coal, too. Low sulfur.

I wonder if the fish are biting out at the old open pit scratchings. They were the first mines for the railroad.

Well ... hush my mouth ... they’re laying new track on the abandoned railroad right of way. New ties too. Something’s up.

State 345 used to be US87 but now it’s the road to Ranchester and points north.

I stopped at the Butcher Shop. I wasn’t the only one. Burger ... fresh ground while you’re standing there. 75 cents a pound.

I cornered the butcher.

“What’s left in our locker?”

“I was hoping you or Hairy would drop by. You’re getting low. I can see the stainless steel bottom.”

“Hairy’s out of town. What have you got hanging?”

“Four grass fed from your neighbor. Four hogs from Sutliff in the smoker. Angus side left over from the Cattleman’s. And three from the last auction. 96 cents a pound by the half for the three. The Angus is a buck and a half ... last half. Hog side is 56 cents. And that damn buffalo front half.”

“I’ll take the Angus, 20 pounds of lean bacon. Two hams and the buffalo. Still got the hide?”

“Yup ... fifty bucks. Got an even dozen horns.”

“How much?” I’ll need those for powder horns.

“What’ll you give?”

“Fifty cents each.”

“I’ll take it.”

“Throw in the liver and the skull?” I’ll use the liver and the brains to tan the buffalo hide.

“And the 70 eye teeth from last season’s elk?”

“Yes ... I’m needing eye teeth. Anyone poaching? I need some fresh hides. Doe would be good.”

“I’ll ask around. You still needing snooze can lids?”

“Yes.” I make jangles with the lids.

He passed me a sack ... must have weighed six pounds.

“I need a couple pounds of ground chuck.”

He turned around and started tossing meat in the grinder. Wrapping it up he said, “When are you going to sell me that Jeep?”

“Not.”

He’s been trying to buy my jeep for a year.