Chapter 51

I stumbled out of my bedroll to find Big Tex sitting on a hand-made chair in the living room, sipping coffee out of a thermos cup. The thermos was sitting on the floor next to him. And sitting next to the thermos was a bed roll. Come to think of it, both Tex and I were wearing the same clothes as yesterday.

And I needed to find a bathroom and some breakfast.

“What are you doing here?” I asked Tex.

“I am adapting to the unreasonable decisions of my protectee ... I noticed the eagle outside your window last night. The Hunter, you called him. He didn’t seem to move all night.”

I was a ‘protectee?’ That sounded permanent.

“I had to explain to the men outside about Hunter,” he explained. “Quite a few of them knew about him. Apparently, the Protector of the Whirlwind is a well-known legend ... and it seems to be true.”

“How many men were outside all night?” I hated that they had to stay up all night for me.

“Six at a time. Then switched off every three hours.”

“So that was ... what? Eighteen men?” Worser and worser.

“Yep. A couple of women, too.”

“I am sorry. Can you get them all to come here?”

“Well, the men on duty, for sure. Do you want to talk to the others, too?”

“Yes, but after they’ve had a chance to rest and get some breakfast.”

“We’ll get them at the mid-morning break. That’ll be about ten.”

Tens’es! That’s elevenses on daylight savings time. I knew I liked the Shoshone people.

“First,” I pointed out, “point me to a bathroom.”

“If you want to wash, there’s running water at the well. About fifty yards uphill.” He pointed. “If you want a toilet, there’s a Porta Potty, about one hundred yards that-a-way.” He pointed in the other direction

“What about breakfast?”

“What did you bring?”

“Oh. Yuck.” That stuff was barely edible. I’d looked at the powdered, dried eggs in the plastic bag.

He continued, “Got a towel? Or a spork? That’s a combination fork/spoon.”

“Uh ... no, to both.”

“I sense a first-time camper,” he laughed. “I’d suggest your house is not ready for occupancy, yet. Soon, but not yet. Move back into your grandfather’s place and come back when it’s time to move in.”

“Yeah, I see that.” I trotted down to the Porta Potty and then ran up to the running water.

I passed by men hauling logs up to my house. Others were man-handling a posthole digger. I’m not exactly sure what to call it. They were digging out where the Hunter was hanging out. They didn’t seem to mind working close to him, but there was one guy who was just watching the huge eagle. Hunter turned his head a little, blinked at them, and then watched me at a distance.

When I got done with my morning chores at the Porta Potty and the water well, the men were hammering together a giant, upside down ‘U’. Then they stuck the ends in the holes, and were then pouring quick-setting cement in the holes. I guess they were gonna stand there and hold the uprights ‘til the cement set.

I couldn’t figure it out. Then a light bulb when on over my head. It was for Hunter.

Big Tex called all the men over to the Hunter-roost, when he saw me coming. There were about ten men gathered around. Some were holding the posts and others toting rifles.

“I want to say thanks for that.” I pointed to the roost. “And I wanted to apologize. Y’all didn’t need to be coming out here all night.”

“Yes we did,” said one of the guys. “We couldn’t just leave you out here alone.”

“I came out here,” I said, “because this is my home. The safest place I could be. And, despite what this big guy says, I AM NOT IN ANY TROUBLE at the moment.” I got excited and shouted a bit. “No threats, no bad guys. Not even any bears. Just a big ol’ eagle.” I gestured at Hunter, and smiled.

“Not yet, you mean,” said another guy. “Word is, you’re gonna make a big change to the way things work. The white-eyes won’t like that much.”

“Yeah,” said another. “They’ll be coming for ya. You’ll see.”

“Right,” said still another. He raised his rifle over his head. “We fought ‘em in Sitting Bull’s time. We can do it again.” I didn’t see the same enthusiasm for taking on the white man in the faces of his comrades.

I spread my hands, palm down, in a placating gesture. “Maybe. Maybe that’s true. But it’s not now. Me coming out here was a little early.” I laughed. “I guess I’m too much of a city Injin to run to a Porta Potty in the morning. So I’ll come out in the daylight, and not so much for a camping trip. But I WILL be back as soon as this Whirlwind House is finished ... I just wanted to say thanks to you all.”

“Come on down to #24 and have some food. Okay?” said one of the voices in the small crowd.

“There’s FOOD?” I laughed. “Now you’re talking my language.” And the crew and I and Big Tex headed over to the Community Center building, which the people of McKesson Creek had decided to call just #24. I think the numeric name is going to stick.

Inside #24 were a whole bunch of kids and a larger bunch of men sitting at wooden bench-tables and a group of women preparing LOTS of food in skillets and pots of all kinds over hot plates plugged into electric extension cords that looked to me like they might burst into flames at any moment.

Fortunately, somebody had some sense. There was a guy standing near the cooking area with a fire extinguisher!

“How long have they been doing this?” I asked Big Tex.

“Since I’ve been here at least. That’s four days,” he said.

“Uh huh.” I went over to one of the ladies and asked her, when she was scrambling up some eggs, “‘Skuze me, Ma’am. How long have y’all been cooking like this?”

“What? ... Oh, step back, Miz Lexi.” She took her skillet off the hotplate and pushed me back with her left hand. I noticed that all the cooks did something similar. The man with the fire extinguisher turned it on for a few seconds! He sprayed the tangle of extension cords with CO2 briefly and then went back to standby. And all the women went back to cooking everybody breakfast.

This was madness.

“Tex,” I said, “who is our electrician?”

One of the guys at the breakfast table answered, around his eggs and fried peppers. He was an elderly man but seemed to be in good shape. He was bald on top, but his fringe hair came down to his shoulders. “That’d be Moses.”

“Does Moses have a last name?” I asked him.

“Moses ... uh, what IS his name? ... Edison, we call him. Don’t rightly know his reg’lar name. But he’s the only Moses around here,” he answered.

“Where can I find Moses?” I asked him.

“He has house #10,” he answered. I spun on my new work boots and started to walk out. The guy at the table raised his voice a little, and said, “But he’s not there, prob’ly.”

I spun back around. “Do you know where he is?”

“Prob’ly not in his house.” He stopped his answer while he shoveled more food into his mouth. I noticed that he didn’t have much in the way of teeth. “Moses got hisself a dose of pneumonia. He’s still in the clinic, down to Fort Washakie, prob’ly. Been ‘bout a week, now.”

“Thanks,” I said. Then I turned to Big Tex. “Where’s Jed?”

“Driving, about now, I’d say. He normally gets to McKesson’s Hollow by about eight.” He looked at his watch. “That’s about twenty minutes from now.”

“Come on,” I said, grabbing the front of his T-shirt. And I started walking out of #24.

“What are we doing?” He followed me along.

“YOU are adapting yourself to the unreasonable demands of your protectee,” I told him. “You are going to drive me over to the Hollow. Jed has to know something about fixing this electrical disaster. Come on, come on. Let’s go. That situation could break out in flames any time.”

[Lexi.]

Not now, Red.

We got to his truck and bounced over to the Hollow. Jed was already there.

“Jed, come on. You’re taking me over to the Creek,” I said.

“Oh, hello Lexi. How are you getting on with Big Tex?” He was just getting a donut from the box in the office. I grabbed two.