Charlie said, ‘He is probably only dazed temporarily.’ Tub walked headfirst into a tree and began loudly to urinate. ‘You’re too kind with him. Stab him in the ribs with your heels. This will give him all the focus you could want.’
‘The last horse didn’t need such prodding.’
Charlie shook his head. ‘Let’s not talk about that again, thank you.’
‘The last horse was smarter than many grown men I’ve known.’
Charlie shook his head; he would not speak of it anymore. We came to the camp of the dead prospectors, or to-be prospectors, or never-to-be prospectors. I counted five bodies facedown on the ground, and none of them was lying next to another. Charlie told me the story while emptying their pockets and bags of valuables: ‘This fat fellow here, he was the tough one. I tried to reason with him but he wanted to make a show for his friends. I shot him in the mouth and everyone ran. That’s why they’re all scattered and back wounded, see?’ He squatted before a slight body. ‘This one here can’t be more than sixteen, I’d say. Well, he should have known better than to travel with such hotheads.’
I said nothing. Charlie looked at me for a reaction and I shrugged.
‘What’s that mean?’ he said. ‘You had a hand in this, let’s not forget.’
‘I don’t see how you can say that. I did not want to stay the night in that old woman’s cabin, remember.’
‘But it was your illness that made such a stop necessary.’
‘A spider crawled into my boot, there is the cause of my illness.’
‘You’re saying you wish to blame the spider?’
‘I don’t wish to blame anyone. You’re the one who brought it up.’
Speaking to the assembled dead, Charlie said, ‘My good men, it is a spider to blame for the early demise of your group. A woolly, fat-bottomed spider in search of warmth—here is the cause of your deaths.’
I said, ‘All I am telling you, brother, is that it’s a shame they had to go. And it is a shame. And that’s all.’ I rolled the boy over with my boot. His mouth was slack and a pair of hugely bucked upper teeth pushed past his lips.
‘There’s a handsome lad,’ Charlie offered drolly. But he was feeling remorseful, I could see it. He spit on the ground and tossed a handful of dirt over his shoulder. ‘All these people searching out their fortunes in California would do better to stay where they are and work their own land.’
‘I understand it. They are looking for adventure.’
‘These men found theirs.’ He resumed rifling their pockets. ‘This one has a fine watch and fob. Do you want it? Here, feel how heavy it is.’
‘Leave the man his watch,’ I said.
‘I would feel better about this if you took something.’
‘And I’d feel worse. Leave the watch, or take it for yourself, but I won’t have it.’
He had also killed their horses. These lay in a group at the bottom of a gully past the camp. Normally this would not have bothered me but two of them were fine animals, greatly superior to Tub; I pointed this out to Charlie and he became bitter and told me, ‘Yes, and their marks are here for anyone to see. Would you be so stupid as to ride a murdered man’s horse into California, where his arrival is expected?’
‘No one is expecting these men. And you know as well as I do there’s no better place in the world to hide than California.’
‘I’m done talking about your horse, Eli.’
‘If you think it will not come up again, you are mistaken.’
‘Then I’m done talking about your horse today. Now, let us divide the money.’
‘This is your killing. You keep it.’
‘I killed these men to free you from the cursed shack,’ he complained. But I would not accept the coins and he said, ‘Don’t think I’m going to force it on you. I am overdue for some new clothes anyway. Do you think your mangled, brainless horse can make it to the next town without hurtling itself off a cliff? What’s that? You’re not smiling, are you? We’re in a quarrel and you mustn’t under any circumstances smile.’ I was not smiling, but then began to, slightly. ‘No,’ said Charlie, ‘you mustn’t smile when quarreling. It’s wrong, and I dare say you know it’s wrong. You must stew and hate and revisit all the slights I offered you in childhood.’
We mounted to leave the camp. I kicked Tub in his ribs and he lay down flat on the ground.
Chapter 13
It was after dark by the time we came to the next town, and the trading post did not look to be open for business. But the door was unlocked and the chimney was smoking, and we knocked and entered. The room was warm and still, the smell of new goods strong in my nostrils—pants and shirts and undershirts and stockings and hats filled the shelves in neat piles. Charlie knocked his boot heel on the floor and a spry old man in a sagging undershirt emerged from behind a heavy black-velvet curtain. He did not return our greeting but moved silently from place to place, lighting the lamps on the counter with a thin stick of pine, its end glowing and bobbing in his hand. Soon the room was bright in the golden glow, and the old man laid his hands on the countertop, blinking and smiling inquisitively.
‘I am looking for some new clothes,’ said Charlie.
‘Top to bottom?’ said the old man.
‘I am thinking of a new shirt, foremostly.’
‘Your hat is tattered.’
‘What do you have in the way of shirts?’ asked Charlie.
The old man studied Charlie’s torso, reading his measurements with a trained eye, then turned and scurried up a ladder just behind him, pulling from the shelves a short stack of folded shirts. He descended and laid the stack before Charlie; as my brother sorted through these, the old man asked me, ‘And you, sir?’
‘I am not looking for anything this evening.’
‘Your hat is tattered, also.’
‘I like my hat.’
‘You seem to have known each other a long while, judging by the sweat rings.’
My face darkened and I said, ‘It is impolite to speak of other people’s clothing like that.’
The man’s eyes were black and slick and he reminded me of a mole or some other type of burrowing animaclass="underline" Quick and sure and single-minded. He said, ‘I did not intend to be impolite. I blame my line of work. Whenever I see a man in compromised attire I am drawn to him in sympathy.’ His eyes grew wide and innocent but while he spoke his hands, working independently, laid three new hats out on the counter.
‘Did you not hear me when I said I wanted nothing?’ I asked.
‘What will putting one on hurt you?’ he wondered, propping up a looking glass. ‘You’re just passing time while your friend here tries out shirts.’ The hats were black, chocolate, and dark blue. I laid mine next to them and had to admit it was in poor shape by comparison. I said I might try one on and the old man called out sharply, ‘Rag!’ Now a pregnant and markedly ugly young girl emerged from behind the curtain with a steaming cloth in her hand. She flung this at me and returned without a word from whence she came. I stood handling the hot rag, tossing it back and forth to cool it, and the old man offered his explanation: ‘If you wouldn’t mind wiping down your hands and brow, sir. We can’t have the merchandise sullied by every fellow who enters the room.’ I set about cleaning myself while he turned his attention to Charlie, busily buttoning up a black cotton shirt with pearl snap buttons. ‘Now, that is a beautiful fit,’ the old man said. Charlie stood before a long looking glass, moving this way and that to view the shirt from each angle. He turned to me and pointed at the garment, his eyebrows slightly raised.
‘It is a handsome one,’ I said.
‘I’ll take it,’ Charlie said.
‘And what do you think of your friend in this?’ the old man asked as he put the chocolate hat atop my head. Charlie considered my profile, then asked to see what the black one looked like. When the old man swapped them out, Charlie nodded. ‘If you were after a hat, you could stop right there. It’s not going to get much better than that. And I think I might like to see the blue one, while they’re out.’