by Cheryl
Chapter VIII
Life had become stable for Buck again even if it could never return to normal. He couldn't go off and leave Isaac again. He knew that Isaac would never forgive him if he did. Buck didn't think that he could forgive himself. And so he stayed. But although he lived with the white world he didn't live in it.
Rachel had offered him the bedroom that was once his and Clara's. She had done it out of kindness. The small house had only three bedrooms. And he had been kind when he had explained to her that he couldn't spend a night in that room. Explained that it held too many memories of happier times that would never be again.
She then offered that he stay in Isaac's room. They could move on extra bed in. Again he had refused. He didn't want to live in a house with four walls. He couldn't, just like he couldn't ever sleep in a teepee again. Rachel had accepted his answer even though she didn't understand it.
Finally she offered that he sleep in the old bunkhouse. It was just used for storage and the rare guest now. He told her that that to held too many good memories for him. He couldn't go home. It would never be the same. He was okay with this now.
Buck had told her that he would sleep under the stars. It was the only place that he felt at home. She hadn't accepted that as a possibility. She cared about him too much to let him sleep out in the cold alone. She had told him that he would stay in the tack room in the barn. It wasn't a house, it wasn't the bunkhouse. Her statement had been a command not a request. And Buck had agreed to it.
His relationship with Rachel would never be as warm as it had once been. But they had come to some understanding. She was glad that he wanted to stay. Even though she hadn't given birth to little Ike, he was her child. She was the one that had woke up to feed him in the middle of the night, she changed dirty diapers, watched his first step. She was the one that stayed by his bed when he was sick, comforted him he had got hurt. She had never been a mother before. And even though Ike never called her mom, there was an understanding between the two of them that she was.
Rachel had come to realize that she could give Ike all the love and tenderness that she had and something would still be missing from his life. Buck was the only one that could give Isaac what she couldn't. He needed Buck to be there for him. And Rachel imagined that Buck needed Isaac too.
Even if Rachel and Buck no longer understood each other they still both loved Isaac. And Isaac needed both of them. Buck wasn't about to take his son away from Rachel.
Rachel never asked him about the past. She tried not to mention Ike and Clara to him. She never did ask what he had done while he was gone. She knew the little bit that he had told them all that first night. And she left it at that. She didn't really want to know. What mattered most to her was that Buck was there for Isaac, and he was.
Buck remembered the first time he had gone off to the wilderness by himself. Teaspoon and Isaac knew that he just needed to get away from the white world. He needed to be alone with nature. Rachel however had her doubts. She thought that maybe he'd keep on riding like he had done all those years ago. She was a little surprised when three days later he showed back up at her breakfast table.
Buck often took short trips into the wilderness. At times he would just relax and visit with nature. Enjoying the soft sounds of the wilderness instead of the loud noise of Rock Creek. At times he would hunt and bring back game. He would fix them over the fire in the Kiowa tradition for Isaac. And at times he would ride to the Kiowa camp and spend time with Red Bear.
Red Bear and the rest of the tribe wanted Buck to fight again. They knew he was a good warrior and he could be of use in their war. But Buck had told Red Bear that he couldn't fight any more. That if he did what little shred of humanity and goodness that was left in him would die. Red Bear had accepted the answer. Had told the rest of the tribe of it.
It was an odd feeling for Buck, he could live with either of his worlds, white or red. And both of them respected and accepted him. But he didn't live in either of the worlds. He was just visiting. He soul had always been split in half. But now although his soul was still made of two parts it was whole. He had spent his life feeling like he was being pulled apart by two worlds. But now he stood between them. He had created a world that was all his own, and by doing this he was finally whole.
Buck allowed no one into this world of his own, no one but Isaac. He did eventually tell Isaac the whole story of his life. He told him about growing up with the Kiowa. Told him about his mother and Red Bear. He told him about the catholic orphanage and about Ike. He told him of the Pony Express, who had become the family he didn't have. He told him about Clara and how happy they had been. He told him of Morning Dawn and Soaring Eagle, his brother. Buck told all this to Isaac, and Isaac listened quietly. Taking all the stories into his soul.
Buck and Isaac did share an understanding that no one else seemed to get. The name Isaac was appropriate. They were the two people in Buck's live that truly understood him. Buck was content in the new world he had created if not happy. He figured that he would probably never be happy. Life had taken from him something that he couldn't ever regain. And without that he would never truly be happy again. But Buck accepted this.
Buck had begun to teach Isaac of the Kiowa world. Rachel and Teaspoon and Rock Creek had taught him of the white world. Now Buck taught him of the red. To do it right would take Buck years. He had started to teach Isaac the basics of horsemanish, hunting and tracking. He told him ancient stories of the Kiowa. He taught him of the Indian religion, the Great Spirit, the great hunting grounds in the other world. He told him of the customs and traditions of the Kiowa. Isaac was a very good student. He enjoyed learning. And he wished to know all he could of the Kiowa.
Buck enjoyed Isaac's presence. They would take walks to the pond and talk as they had done that first afternoon they meet. Or Buck would take Isaac riding with him on the bare back of Rolling Thunder. They would ride over the hills and just enjoy nature and each other. Buck couldn't image a day without Isaac. He wished the world wouldn't ever take him away too. Buck knew that he couldn't live with that grief. He prayed to the Great Spirit and God to be allowed this one thing of joy in his life. He hoped that they heard his prayers.
And Buck had been right, Isaac had grown to love him, understand him and know him, even better than Ike ever had. This child him and Clara had created was his salvation from the harsh world that life had given him. Ike had been right also. Isaac did need him. Kiowa blood still coursed through his veins. The white world had erased his Indian heritage from his features but not from his heart. Isaac needed him to show him the power of the Kiowa blood he possessed. To show him it's glory and nature. And Buck accepted this task with a happy heart.
Buck had set up the tack room in the barn as his home as Rachel had insisted. It contained all the things in this life that he held dear to him. The furnishings were sparse. A small cot sat against one wall, a thick buffalo blanket the only covers on it. An old worn desk sat against the other wall. It was filled with memories, a framed picture of Clara sat beside a jewelry bow he had got her while they courted that played the first song they danced to. A pair of Isaac's baby booties that Clara had knitted, a wooden horse toy that had belonged to Soaring Eagle, the beaded necklace Morning Dawn had wore at their wedding, and Ike's hat and worn red bandana were all contained on the desk also. Clara's favorite shawl graced the back of the only chair. His memories covered the walls also with a picture of his complete Pony Express family, a drawing on buffalo hide of Morning Dawn holding an infant Soaring Eagle, an Indian bow that he would someday teach Isaac to use, a quiver full of arrows, Ike's gun and gun belt that someday he would give to Isaac also. His life and memories filled that small room.
In front of the bed sat an old trunk. It was filled with the parts of his life he still didn't want to think of and would rather forget, his old boots and hat from the Pony Express, Clara's wedding dress, his buckskin leggings and breech cloth. Ike's journal of the first days of the Pony Express and Clara's diary were both inside. Maybe someday he would read them to Isaac. The bible and a crucifix he had been given in the orphanage.
His war shirt was in that trunk. He had thought of throwing it away, tossing it into the fire. But it was part of his past. It would be with him whether it existed in that trunk or not. To the Kiowa that shirt showed his deeds as a warrior. To get rid of it would mean disgracing his Indian blood.
He had taken the war shirt out one day. To think about the deeds that it symbolized, the actions he had taken to make it. He couldn't go back to that life. He couldn't fight like that anymore. But his heart knew that what the Kiowa fought for was right, whether or not they went about fighting correctly.
Teaspoon had seen him looking at the shirt. The old marshal knew what it was. Knew what it stood for. He saw the scalps, the bloody handprints. He knew it belonged to Buck. But he had asked no questions of Buck. He had allowed Buck to put it back in its place in the trunk without a word.
There were lots of unspoken word between him and Teaspoon. The ex-stationmaster knew that Buck was no longer his charge. He also knew that life had taught Buck some harsh lessons and nothing Teaspoon said could add to that learning. Teaspoon had pieced together the outline of Buck's life already. Buck knew this. And they left it at that. Unless he told the old lawman, his knowledge of Buck's past would remain guesses.
Teaspoon had seen the picture of the Indian woman and child. He knew that they had belonged to Buck. He had seen the toy horse. And thus assumed the infant was Buck's son. Figured that they were now dead. And assumed that the cavalry had something to do with that. He had seen the war shirt. He knew that Buck had been a very good warrior. And he knew how bloody an Indian battle could be. Knew the nightmares and regrets that went along with it. And Teaspoon knew that this was just the backbone of a lifetime of hardships, pain and grief that Buck had already lived.
Teaspoon knew all of this and never asked Buck of it. It was agreed that they would not talk and share their personal lives. Buck knew that the old marshal and Rachel were somehow involved with each other. He knew that Teaspoon would tell Isaac and him that he was going to share a cup of coffee with Rachel after they went to bed. And then his horse would remain in the barn. He would spend the night in Rachel's bed and ride out early the next morning. Or at times he would arrive after Isaac was in bed and then say that he had just showed up for bedfast.
Buck cared little about Rachel and Teaspoon having such a relationship. He wondered when it had happened. Why neither of them wanted others to know. He suspected that they shared deep feelings for each other. He knew that Rachel thought fondly of the former Texas Ranger that was almost old enough to be her father. And he had the feeling that Teaspoon had strong feelings toward Rachel too.
It had been unspokeningly agreed between Buck and Teaspoon that they not ask each other of their secrets. So Buck asked nothing about Rachel and the nights Teaspoon spent in her bed. And Teaspoon asked nothing of Buck's Indian wife and son and the battles he had fought with the Kiowa.
And their relationship worked well that way. Teaspoon had needed a deputy and Buck had accepted the job when he asked. They knew each other well. They knew each other's joys and pains, and no words said between them would enhance this.
And so Buck's life was stable and content. He was more at peace with himself and the world than he had been for a long time. But somehow he felt that something was still missing. Ike had agreed with him and told him that soon things would change. Soon life would make more sense.
Chapter IX
That fateful day had started as many others. Buck and Teaspoon were in the marshal's office lounging around. The day had been uneventful. As had many days that week. Then from outside they had both heard a commotion and quickly rose to their feet to check it out.
It turned out to be a group of cavalry soldiers with a captured Indian brave. They had him tied by a rope to one of the soldier's saddle horns and were half dragging him through town. The townsfolk in Rock Creek were cheering. Indian raids had been worse than usual the past few weeks and they were excited to know that the cavalry was taking care of the problem.
Teaspoon knew that it wasn't that odd for the cavalry to stop in to use his jail cell to keep a captive until they moved on. There wasn't a fort nearby and the old marshal never complained of lending a hand. Teaspoon might have thought that what the US army was doing to the Indians was wrong. But it wasn't his place to deny them his services.
The soldiers stopped their horses. The Indian brave stumbled at the sudden motion and fell to his knees. The soldiers dismounted. The officer in charge went to ask Teaspoon for the use of his cell but Buck's attention was elsewhere. He watched as two other soldiers walked toward the fallen brave. After that night at the soldier fort where he himself was beaten by soldiers he was wary of what they would do with this brave. He noticed that the brave was already badly beaten. Buck could also tell that he had been dragged at times on the ground. He was sure that the brave's legs and whole body were aching in pain. He wondered what the brave had been caught doing.
The soldiers asked the brave to stand up. He didn't respond. Buck was sure that he was sore and tired. He looked up at the soldiers and tried to rise to his feet, but his tired legs wouldn't let him. Buck noticed something familiar about the face of the brave. Did he know him? He looked closer at the dress. It was Kiowa. Even through the caked mud and dried blood he was sure of that.
The soldiers asked the brave to stand again getting annoyed at what they took to be resistance. When the brave still couldn't make it to his feet one of the soldiers punched the brave. The brave, which had halfway rose, fell back to the hard ground. Then both soldiers started to hit the brave. Buck heard a meek, "No, please don't," from the brave.
Then Buck realized that he did know the brave. He was Two Foxes. Buck leapt forward to stop the attack of the soldiers. The commotion had attracted the attention of the officer and Teaspoon. Seeing their commanding officer offended by their actions the soldiers backed away from the brave. Buck reached down and lightly said Two Foxes' name in the Kiowa tongue. Two Foxes looked up at him and after a moment recognized his half-blood friend.
Buck helped Two Foxes to his feet with Teaspoon's help and the two of them escorted the brave to the jail cell. Buck wondered what Two Foxes had done. Buck knew his friend to be peaceful. The only way Two Foxes would hurt anyone was in self-defense.
Buck had talked to Two Foxes in the Kiowa tongue. Asked the young brave what he had done. What the cavalry wanted him for. And Teaspoon had sat in the office, quietly watching as Buck talked to the Indian that he knew. Teaspoon knew nothing of what Buck and the young brave talked about, but he trusted that Buck would tell him any useful information when he was done.
Just as Buck was finishing the door to the Marshal's office opened and Cody and Jimmy walked in. Cody had thrown the door wide open and with a huge smile on his face and a bit of a theatrical flare said, "Why Teaspoon, you ol' cogner, imagine meetin' you here."
Teaspoon was so surprised by the sudden arrival of his old charge that he almost spilled hot coffee all down his front. He quickly regained control of the coffee cup and placed it on the table as he rose to greet his visitors with a smile, "What brings you boys to Rock Creek?" he asked.
Cody stood up tall and slightly puffed out his chest as he answered, "We're on official army business." He then proceeded to tell the old marshal all about how he and Jimmy had been personally asked, by Colonel Custer himself, to help out with some renegade Indians that were stirring up trouble in the area.
Cody was his ever boisterous, confident and optimistic self. Buck wondered if anything in life could ever get his old friend down. He envied Cody for his ability to let what life gave him roll smoothly off those broad shoulders of his.
Jimmy however was another story. It had been six years since he had last seen James Hickok and Buck could tell that the years had been just as unkind to his friend as they had to him. Rachel had told Buck that Jimmy had been a scout for awhile then had become a lawman for a time in the lawless Kansas cow towns. It seemed like just the kind of work everyone thought Jimmy would always end up doing. Rachel hadn't heard from Jimmy lately and had been worried when there were reports of his death in dime novels.
Obviously Jimmy was still alive. Rachel would be happy to see him. But there was a sadness in Jimmy's eyes that had never been there before. Buck didn't know were it came from. It wasn't his right to ask. But he knew the feeling. A black cloud would always hang over him too. Jimmy had finally seen too much of life. And once you start down that road you can never go back. You can never unsee the events that you've lived.
While Teaspoon and Cody happily chatted away Jimmy and Buck stood silently beside them. Jimmy lifted his eyes to look at Buck, two kindred souls in a world full of grief and heartache.
Finally Cody finished talking. Teaspoon looked at Buck. Buck knew that he wanted to know what Two Foxes had told him. Without a word between them Buck answered the old marshal. "He's being charged with killing a cavalry officer. He did not do it."
"Custer saw him himself," Cody explained to clarify the matter.
"Then Custer is lying." Buck plainly stated.
"You callin' Colonel Custer a liar?" Cody asked Buck a little threatening. Buck knew that the Colonel was a good friend of Cody's. He wondered if Cody knew what things Buck had heard told about the army colonel.
Teaspoon didn't give Buck a chance to respond. "You know the man?" he asked Buck, and whatever argument might have arisen between Cody and Buck dissolved into the air.
"Yes, I know him," Buck answered. "His name is Two Foxes. He's Kiowa. He could not have done what they say he has."
"And just why is that?" Cody asked. Although his voice showed that he supported Custer, Cody wanted to know the truth.
"Two Foxes believes in peace, not fighting. He supports the words of Kicking Bird," Buck answered.
"People can change," Cody stated. He was meaning that Two Foxes' beliefs might have changed since Buck saw him last, and Buck knew that that was possible. War can greatly alter a man's ideas of the world. Buck knew that first hand. But Cody was also talking of that night at the fort. Cody would never trust him again. He knew what Buck had done and although he would never tell the others, Buck had lost the trust of his good friend. Buck could see that distrust in Cody's eyes. And Buck noticed that Teaspoon and Jimmy saw it too. And Buck knew that they wouldn't ask either of them why that look existed in Cody's eyes.
"Yes, they can," Buck answered after a small silence. "But Two Foxes has not." Buck thought of ending the conversation there. He knew that he should. But his heart wouldn't let him. He knew that what he would say would hurt Cody and he didn't want to. But what the cavalry did to the Indians was wrong. And hanging Two Foxes for something he didn't do, no matter who said he did, was also wrong. "You and I are enemies on this. You might think Custer is a good man, and to the white man he might be, but to the red man he has done nothing but wrong, and I will not stand by and let him do it again."
With that Buck walked out of the office. He knew that he should stay. He knew the questioning look Teaspoon cast after him, the look of anger that Cody's face held, the look of confusion that graced Jimmy's face. But he left anyway.
Buck had no sooner left the marshal's office when he bumped into Colonel Custer himself. The colonel was causally strolling to go see his captured Indian in the jail cell and make sure that all was well. He wasn't paying much attention to where he was going however, and Buck was trying to escape his actions from his conversation with Cody.
It saddened him that Cody was now an enemy. He knew what it must have felt like for Kid when he decided to support his native state of Virginia in the war. He had made the ever positive Cody think negatively of him. But Buck knew that even if Cody didn't share his believes and even if Cody didn't trust him, they were still brothers. They would always be. Cody would still protect him from harm as he had at the fort. And Buck would repay the favor without a single thought. But Cody would never look at him the same way. And maybe Buck didn't deserve Cody to consider him a good man anymore. Buck believed in his heart that he no longer was one.
Caught up in his own thoughts and feelings, Buck had run into Custer and then brushed past him still lost in thought. The movement had been rude, but Buck was too preoccupied with others things to think much on it. Custer however held a different view. As Buck continued to walk down the street to Rachel's, Custer stopped dead in his tracks in front of the door to the marshal's office. He then turned around to see who had so rudely bumped into him and quickly noticed the buckskins and long black hair of an Indian.
"Hey! You!" Custer yelled. The loud voice of the Colonel pulled Buck out of his thoughts. He turned to look back at the Colonel standing on the porch of the marshal's office. Buck noticed the angry look on the Colonel's face, saw that Teaspoon, Jimmy and Cody had come out of the office to see what the problem was. He should apologize to Custer. The bump was his fault even if the army Colonel had been walking a crooked line down the street, a crooked line for a crooked man. Buck had to make sure to keep from smiling at his own private joke.
"You gonna apologize?" Custer asked as he walked down the steps of the porch and toward where Buck stood in the street.
Buck still didn't say a word. His dark brown eyes glared at Custer out of a face that was set like stone. He would give the Colonel no pleasure at his expense. Colonel Custer might be a good man, but he hated the Indians. Saw no problem with murdering their women and children. In Custer's mind there was no good Indian. So Buck saw no reason to apologize he was already disliked by the man, what reason did he have to be nice to him.
Teaspoon seeing Custer's anger and Buck's lack of a response decided that he probably needed to step into this one. He knew Buck's opinions on the cavalry and men like Custer, even if they had never talked about it. Buck no longer fought with the Kiowa, but Teaspoon knew that Buck still sided with them whatever his reasons for not fighting.
"What exactly seems to be the problem here?" Teaspoon asked as he strolled off the porch and placed himself between the two men before him.
Custer had noticed the tin badge that read deputy on Buck's dark wool vest and figured that the Indian before him was the marshal's deputy. Buck saw that Custer noticed his place as law in this town. Buck was sure that to such a man the idea of an Indian, even if he was a half-breed, being trusted by the town marshal was odd.
"Your deputy here just bumped into me for no reason," Custer responded to the question. He was slightly defense, thinking that the marshal would take the side of his deputy, and the way he had said the word deputy gave the impression that he didn't think an Indian should be trusted with upholding the peace at all. "I'd like at least an apology."
Buck still stared at the man in front of him. He saw no reason to apologize and would prefer to be allowed to continue walking down the street. He knew that if he stayed his words wouldn't be nice. He didn't mind offending the man before him, but he wasn't looking to make the man any more of an enemy than he already was.
Teaspoon noticed Buck's lack of response and wondered what was going on in that brain of his. He figured that Buck had no intention of apologizing and hoped that the anger that was brimming to the surface in his young deputy wouldn't be voiced. Teaspoon was certain that Custer wouldn't like to hear Buck's opinions on the war between the US army and the Indians. "Now Buck an apology wouldn't hurt," Teaspoon gently prodded hoping that Buck could control the anger long enough to briefly apologize and continue on his way.
Buck still stood there in front of Custer, his eyes on fire. He wasn't going to apologize and Custer wouldn't leave with any less. It was not Buck that should be apologizing anyway. It was Custer who led massacres against unarmed Indian villages. He was the one that killed women, children and old men. He was the one that believed the Indians should all be killed. He was the one that looked down at Buck for being a deputy and Teaspoon for allowing him to do that. The anger within him came slipping out at this smug army colonel before him.
"It is you that should be apologizing to me," Buck said with anger. "You are the one that kills the red man like they were some scourge on the Earth that needs to be cleaned up."
Custer looked at him, bewildered by the angry words, wondering what he had done to make on enemy of a total stranger. "Have we meet before?" Custer asked. Maybe the young Indian before him had some reason to dislike him.
Buck watched the colonel confused by his anger. He didn't realize what he did to the Indians, to Buck's people. He didn't think he did wrong and this angered Buck even more. How could one human being do that stuff to others and not realize what is was he did? Did he not realize that he was killing the Indians, killing their way of life? Custer and men like him were taking away the soul of the red man slowly piece by piece. Until finally one day there would be nothing left but ancient memories and legends of a time long ago when peace had existed for the red man before the white man had ever even thought of setting foot on this land.
Buck lashed out at the colonel. He wished that he had the power to kill the man before him. It would feel good to rid the world of him. But Buck knew that in the white world such actions were not accepted. Buck longed to kill the man before him, but he had promised himself that another man would not die by his hands, for the sake of his sanity and his son Isaac.
Buck quickly moved toward the Colonel so that they were face to face. Buck's dark eyes stared into the blue of Custer's. Buck could see the fear in those eyes as thoughts of the Indian before him harming him ran through Custer's head. Instead of a weapon however, Buck lashed out at the Colonel with words that were as pointed and deadly as any weapon he had used in battle. "I have met you, although I doubt you know me."
Buck saw the confusion in the Colonel's eyes. He didn't know what to expect from the Indian before him. Custer's fear and confusion brought Buck joy. It was almost as good as killing him. "We meet in battle. I killed and scalped your first lieutenant. His blonde hair hangs proudly from my belt." The anger that dripped from those words made the Colonel's eyes grow wide with fear. There was hatred in those words, hatred that penetrated deep into Buck's heart and soul, hatred that would never leave him.
Then Buck turned, his face still set like stone, his eyes burning with anger, and walked on down the street. No one stopped him. He knew that those words would never be forgotten by any who had witnessed them. He had given Custer yet one more reason to hate the red man and cared little about it. He had made Cody trust him ever less. He had made Jimmy doubt him, probably for the first time in his life. And he had made Teaspoon worry about what good was truly left in his soul.
TO BE CONTINUED...Chapters 10 and 11
Copyright 1998-This work is not to be reproduced without the permission of the author
The Way Station
Campfire Tales
