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Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Chapter Forty-Seven

It was another hot, cloudless afternoon. The dry winter had been a portent of a rainless spring and summer. With the well water lower than the women had ever seen, they decided to clear an irrigation line from the creek that had been clogged with silt for several years. Although the distance wasn't far, it was difficult work because the ground had hardened in the sun to the consistency of baked clay. When Donovan and Will hit a particularly bad patch they would pour a little water on it to accelerate the process, but with water so precious they preferred to muddle along as best they could in the dust.

One afternoon, a clop of hooves and rattling of metal canisters caused Donovan to stand up from his work and look toward the drive. Will looked up at the same time and dropped his pick. "Who's that?"

The visitor was a dirty, brown-skinned boy driving a bony mule hitched to the most uncertain-looking vehicle Donovan had ever seen. It wasn't even a real wagon, just a raft of boards attached to what appeared to be a couple of old truck axles, complete with wheels and balding tires. The wagon bed had a hastily-built rim of stakes and baling wire around it to keep its cargo of covered plastic pails and old metal canisters from falling out as they bumped against each other on the rutted road.

"I'll go see what he wants," Will said, noticing the driver was about his age.

"No, you go tell Amalia someone's here and I'll talk to the boy," Donovan told him, but it was too late. Will had already run off. Donovan laid down his shovel and walked over, taking off his gloves and stuffing them in a pocket. The boy had parked his cart just outside the kitchen door. Donovan saw the boys exchange a few words. They fell silent as he approached.

"This is Jimmy Montoya," Will told him. "He says he lives on the north side of the valley."

"You've had a long drive. What can we help you with?"

"My dad said I need to talk to Miss Amalia or Miss Carina."

Donovan glanced at Will. "Go see if you can find one of them."

"I'll be right back."

"Are you the new hand?" Jimmy asked Donovan.

"Not all that new, but I guess compared to the rest of you, I am. How are things on your side of the valley?"

"Everything's burning up— the alfalfa, the beans, the chiles. We had no corn this year, the kitchen garden is ruined, the goats and cows are low on milk and we're afraid to plant our squash and pumpkins. Don't want to throw seed away, you know. But we got to eat and now the well is bringing up sludge, when it brings up anything at all."

"I take it you don't have a creek on that side."

"We have an arroyo, but it’s only full in the winter. This last winter, it never filled at all and we weren’t able to store any water in our tanks. We've been filtering the sludge from the well, but it ain’t enough, so we was wondering..."

"Jimmy!" Carina came running from the goat shed, with Will darting ahead like a calf. "Look at you, handsome! You're getting to be so grown up. Miles had better get home quick or I'll be getting me a new husband, I think."

Jimmy accepted Carina's hug and teasing with passive goodwill. "Hi, Miss Carina. I was just telling your new hand here—"

"Donovan," Carina corrected him. "And he's not just a hand, he's family."

"Okay. I was just telling him our well's almost dry and we could sure use a little creek water."

"Of course," Carina said, motioning Jimmy down from the wagon. "Take as much as you need. It's not running real high this year, but when times are tough we help each other out, don't we?" She hitched his mule to a nearby post and herded him toward the door. "But I've got conditions on my water. No one can take it without first coming inside, having something to eat and giving me all the news."

Jimmy's shoulders sagged in relief. "It's sure hot out and I wouldn't mind a little rest before heading back."

"You'll get that, plus a bath, and maybe we can find you some clean clothes, too."

"I bet he'll fit something of mine," Will offered, following them into the kitchen.

"Good idea. Why don't you two go do that while I see about making us something to eat? Will you be needing a meal, Jimmy, or just a snack?"

"I ate my lunch in the wagon about an hour ago," Jimmy said. "I ain't really starving or anything."

"Sounds like you just need dessert, then."

The boys took off down the hall and Carina started bustling around the kitchen.

"You seem to like that boy,” Donovan observed.

"I like all children. If they hadn't shipped Miles away, we probably would've had a dozen."

Donovan poured a glass of water. "I wonder how come the boy came all the way over here. The Petersons are closer. There must be other families on his side of the valley. If he goes far enough down this road he'll eventually come to where he won't have to ask anyone to take creek water."

Carina set out some dessert bowls. "The Montoyas probably got water from the Petersons last week and didn't want to bother them again so soon. They're a very proud family. They hate to look like they can't take care of themselves. As for why Jimmy didn't drive to the end of the property lines, take a good look at that mule and you'll have your answer. He's thin, poor thing, and the trip to get here was probably as much as he could bear. I'll have to take a look at that creature before I let Jimmy drive him back."

She was about to say more when the screen door burst open. "What kind of rogue contraption is that outside?" Amalia asked, entering the kitchen with Tasha at her heels. "Looks hardly sturdy enough to get here, no matter where it came from."

"It's Jimmy Montoya's cart," Carina said. "They're low on water up there."

"And the boy is going to fetch it back in that? With that bag of bones pulling it?"

"It's probably sturdier than it looks."

"I guess we'll see, won't we?"

"Yes, we will." Carina stepped back and admired the desserts she had prepared. "What do you think?"

Amalia and Donovan nodded noncommittally at the six little bowls of layered nuts and preserves decorated with mint sprigs, but Tasha pulled a chair up to the counter and examined them. She did a quick calculation on her fingers. "Do we each get a whole one?"

"You sure do." Carina set the girl on the floor and moved the chair back to the table. "Now, tell the boys to come eat. I think they're in Will's room." When Tasha hesitated, Carina urged her on. "It's okay. Will has a friend with him, that's all. Go on and he'll introduce you."

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5 comments:

  1. Home is definitely about what is offered inside..no wonder everyone comes back to Carina and Amalia..they are passing on all the important things life can offer and making a desolate landscape hopeful

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  2. I love how giving and open the women are despite having so little. Your story is addictive.I certainly look forward to reading it every week.

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  3. I was wondering what she'd come up with for a spur of the moment desert. It's not like she could crack a box of Twinkies.

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  4. @Alice: I don't know...Twinkies last a long time. If she wasn't such a granola type, she probably could've successfully hoarded a couple decades' worth.

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  5. Having come from the WW2 era when the youngest child (me) would be sent to cadge a cup of suger or some other necessity from a neighbour this really struck home. It worked both ways as often a boy from several streets away would hang out with my brother and me as he had a bigger family and could get a little extra food intake with us!

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