The Pythagoras Curse Part VIII

Uncivil Civilization

We rested near the river sometime after nightfall then continued north the next morning. A half day’s ride brought us to what was considered at the time, civilization.

I wasn’t certain I wished to tarry in this so called civilization too long. Far too many societies claim to be civilized and yet are perfectly willing to persecute and slaughter those they deem inferior.

Such was Fort Gibson, populated by those seeking safety from a bloody civil war only fifteen years prior. Now it was teeming with settlers following the government’s declaration this territory land was open for occupation.

We guided our horses along a street of swirling dust. It was carved deep with ruts from wagon wheels and carriages which had traveled its muddy expanse during the wet season.

I dismounted and tied my mare to a hitching post. Long Feather remained on his pony.

“You coming boy?”

“Not know this place.”

“It’s a bath house son. I pay two bits each, we get hot water, soap and fresh towels.”

“Long Feather wash in river.”

“No. Long Feather will not bathe in river. Long Feather will accompany me into this bath house and bathe as I do.”

“Not dirty.”

“Boy, I’ve a notion there isn’t a soul in this town wishing to be downwind of us at the moment. Now get off that pony and come with me.”

“I do not like.”

“You don’t have to like it son. You just have to bathe.”

I paid for two stalls and hot water then we both stripped down, something which took me a lot longer to do than my traveling companion. I wore boots, jeans, socks, long legged underwear, a blouse with many buttons.

He wore a pair of moccasins made of animal hide and squares of fringed hide fore and aft.

He screamed when the first bucket of warm water sloshed him from above and I laughed. Then I set about tending to my own grime, enjoying the rivers of warm water cascading down on my head, caressing my body.

It had been far too long and I reveled in each passing second of it.

Evidently, the boy did as well. By the end of our time there he was whooping with glee and calling for more water.

Each of us toweled off in the stalls and by the time I was finished Long Feather had donned his meager clothing and stood alongside as I began the arduous task of getting dressed again.

“Falling water warm, not cold like rain.”

“Yes, wonderful is it not?”

Long Feather shook his head and grinned.

“We let warm water fall on us again?”

“Perhaps another time. I promised myself I’d fit you for clothing better suited for our journey. We shall find us a mercantile then we will have a meal of something finer than the hard tack and dried fruit we’ve been eating.”

We left the bath house, mounted up and let our horses pace themselves along the street. I found my self grinning at Long Feather’s expressions of puzzlement. How he twisted this way and that taking in the new images. When I spied a mercantile I pointed and tugged the rein a bit. We tied off and I let Long Feather enter ahead of me.

Perhaps I should have gone in first.

A reed thin man behind a long counter gestured at the boy, his face twisted with hatred. He pointed at Long Feather with a spindly index finger and scowled.

“Injun you need to get your ass outta my store. Go on git!”

“What did you just say sir?”

“That savage ain’t welcomed in my store. They’re all a bunch of stinking animals.”

“Sir, I merely wish to purchase some clothing and we’ll be on our way.”

“You can buy all you want for yourself mister, but I ain’t selling that redskin a damned thing.”

“Long Feather let us go outside for a bit shall we?”

We stepped outside on the boardwalk and into the street between our horses.

I could see the pain of rejection on the boy’s face. This young man, a proud warrior who at such a tender age had faced death to protect his family and others had just been trivialized.

The arrogant fool in the mercantile made it clear Long Feather was seen as less than human, as if he were no better than a cur. I wondered how the store owner would feel if he were on the receiving end of such disdain. Would he not feel as diminished as the boy did right now?

I chose to find out.

Pausing long enough to withdraw my English long sword from it’s sheath I held it out.

“Take this boy and wait here. Soon I will have need of it. You just make sure to get it to me quick.”

When I walked back in the merchant smiled at me as if we were old acquaintances.

“Good afternoon again mister. What can I do for you today?”

“I’d like to purchase a pair of jeans, some long johns a couple of shirts and oh, do you have any boots?”

“What’s your size?”

“Not for me. For my son.” I held my hand perpendicular to the floor, approximating Long Feather’s height.

“He’s about this tall.”

“Portly?”

“Thin. He eats like a horse, but the boy’s nothing but lean and gristle.”

The merchant laughed and said, “yeah they’re all like that at that age. So, I reckon these jeans’ll fit him, and these long johns and shirts as well. He got big feet?”

I shook my head, “no slender to match his frame.”

“Then this pair of boots should fit him fine. Tell ya what. How ‘bout I throw in a couple of pairs of woolen socks and a belt for free?”

“Very kind of you sir. How much is all that?”

“Well let’s see. I reckon it comes to eighteen dollars fifty cents.”

I turned and stared at the large plate glass window at the front of the store.

“That’s a wondrous piece of glass you have there sir. I believe it is so clear it’s almost transparent.”

“My pride and joy. Had it shipped all the way from Saint Louis.”

“Must have cost you a pretty penny.”

“It did. Close to three hunnert dollars.”

I reached inside my blouse and withdrew a money bag, then counted out four red seal hundred dollar bills.

“So I believe this should just about cover everything.”

The merchant stared at the money then gazed at me.

“Mister I said eighteen dollars and fifty cents. That there’s four hunnert dollars.”

I pushed the pile of clothing and boots aside then grabbed the man’s shirt with both hands and yanked him over the counter. Then I began to run toward the window, pulling him along. As I slid to a stop on the floor’s wood planking, I flung him into the glass.

The entire window exploded, twinkling shards hurtling toward the street as the man came to rest, bleeding in several places, his back against the boardwalk.

Without hesitation I kicked away remnant glass and stepped through the opening. As I stood over the man Long Feather darted up and handed me my sword.

I raised it above my head and swung it down stopping just above the merchant’s neck, the tip resting against his skin.

“Sir, I believe you owe my son an apology.”

READ ON — THE PYTHAGORAS CURSE PART IX

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII, Part XIV, Part XV, Part XVI, Part XVII, Part VIII, Part XIX, Part XX, Part XXI, Part XXII Part XXIII, Conclusion

Let’s keep in touch: [email protected]