Tombstone.
I walked into school this morning to get some writing done before class and Mr. Finesmith came into the room, arranging his notes. “Sorry, I’m a bit early... I was gonna do some writin’ before class. Ma and I... we’re writin’ a book,” I told him.
“Fantastic. Never be sorry for academics.”
“You wanna hear about it Mister Finesmith?”
“I will in just a moment... I need to review this post I have on the desk. Then- I will be all attention,” he said and got to work. I smiled and worked on ma’s journals from the huge stack of papers and then he said after a while, “Now.. you were saying?”
“Well ya see sir… Ma’s a Pinkerton, right?”
“I will take you at your word.”
“And she always takes lotsa notes on what conversations she has during the day…. So she don’t forget nothin’. Well... we’re gonna write a book. Gatherin’ all the stuff ’bout the cases she’s worked in Tombstone. So I gotta read through her journals... and write notes bout where case stuff comes up. See?”
“With her expressed permission naturally?” He nodded.
“Of course. Ma knows I’m a good writer for the Bee. She says it’s good practice for me.”
“And the goal of this collection will be?”
“To put it all together in a book. Like Sherlock Holmes.”
“I understand it will be in a book form.. but what will your demographic be?”
“Demographic?” I looked at him, sounding out the word.
“Oh yes.. pardon. You’re readers.. whom will you be hopeful of your audience? Lawmen? Criminals?”
“Oooh. Readers.”
“Children?”
“Um... maybe law people that wanna learn... or people that wanna know what ma does.. Maybe children who wanna know what happens in Tombstone… I dunno.”
“es.. so you hadn’t thought that through- this is fine with your first works. Marvellous.”
“It’s lotsa fun readin’, mister Finesmith. Helps me get to know my ma better.”
“Will you be using your name.. or that of a ‘pen name’ a name created so no one knows particularly who authored such personal knowledge? Thus a name that will live on in your young writing career, where you can continue to seek out truths for your book- unfettered?”
“Hmm… Guess I should, huh? Do ya think I should use real names in the book?”
“Things change... when people realize who the writer is.. for the better .. or sometimes . the worst.”
“And if they know a kid wrote it? They might not read it?”
“Doesn’t matter the age of the author.”
“Oh.”
“Some of the authors of the Holy Bible were teenagers.”
“Like um…” I tried to think.
“And it doesn’t get bigger then that huh?”
“That’s the best book ever, mister! Oh, can I ask ya a question, Sir?”
“You just did.”
“Well... may I?”
“You did again.”
“I was lookin’ in the library last night for stuff ’bout Friday the 13th… I wanted to know how come it was so..... not liked. But no one really had an answer in the book. There’s lots of ideas why.”
“Well.. One theory- and the most popular- Has to do with the very book we were just discussing.”
“Right... the Lord’s Supper… And Judas was the thirteenth guest. And he betrayed Jesus. But…”
“I know the story.”
“That can’t be why it’s so superstitious, can it? Just ’cause of Good Friday?”
“Oddly.. the number 13 is a good luck number in Italy. for the same reason.”
“Cause um… Judas was Italian?” I looked at him.
“I believe he was not. I believe he was from Ascariot which was in ... ohh…”
“Oh… But... Mister Finesmith… That can’t be all. There’s gotta be other reasons why there’s never a room thirteen.... how come people don’t start journeys on it... how come people get so scared of gettin’ hurt or killed… Judas did what he did ’cause God let him, didn’t he? So Jesus could be our sacrifice?" she looks at him, confused.”
“Judea.. somewhere there.. I will find out. Oh.. now you are asking questions that I am not able to speak on ethically, I have no training in religious matters.”
“Oh… But… Friday the thirteenth c’ain’t be just ’cause of Jesus… There’s gotta be another reason. Ain’t there?”
“Perhaps there is.”
“But how come no one knows?”
“But it wouldn’t be the first time a date was changed.”
I gave him my research for the article and he said he’d review it after class. “You gonna teach me only if no one else comes?” I asked.
“It very well could be that today, the 14th day of February, is that of St Valentines day.”
“Right..” I said and blushed, thinking of Buster. “Oh! I could write ’bout the history of Valentine’s Day!”
“Which brings us to our lesson today. Kindly stow your research clear from your desk.. perhaps the desk behind you. Also.. if you have any creatures .. rocks.. candy.. gum.. kindly hand that to me now.” He held out his hand.
I got out a clean notebook page and wrote my article for Valentin’s Day as he talked. “No sir.” I shook my head.
“Very well." He said, looking me up and down.
“We gonna learn ’bout Valentine’s Day today?” I asked.
“There is nothing i can teach you about the Day specifically. It means one thing to some.. somethings to others But I can make a few points.”
A new girl walked into school then and Mr. Finesmith looked at her as she said, “Sorry I’m late, Sir.”
“We got a new girl!!” I exclaimed excitedly.
“Young Ma’m... you are late.”
“You can sit beside me. That’s the boy’s side.” I told her. “Hi, I’m Natalie.”
“Well.. a wise man once said.. better later then not at all,” Mr. Finesmith said.
“Oh, okay… Thank you Natalie. I’m Zandra,” the girl said and sat beside me after she handed an apple to the teacher.
“Creatures, rocks, gum, candy... other items of distraction- I will have those now.” Mr. Finesmith took the apple. “What a lovely piece of fruit.”
Zandra gave us all an apple too and we thanked her.
“Has everyone seen the new McGuffey Readers we were sent?” Mr. Finesmith asked.
“Those the books Miss Paisley used last week?” I nodded.
“Yes those.” He said and Zandra and Soria hadn’t seen them yet. “Ok Miss Zandra.. Miss Soria.. you will be introduced to them next week. I have something else planned for today. Today.. as you know.. is St Valentines day. And because of this day, we will make- by hand - our very own valentine- and address it to someone intended. You will write your name in your best handwriting. And you will write the name of your intended in your best handwriting. Now.. I will be handing out 2 items This jar of Glue.. it is for the valentines only. Not for sampling… not for slathering on the boys chairs.” He handed out the glue and said, “ Next.. I will hand you a decorated board. This will be the base of you Valentine.” He handed out the boards and said, “You’re Valentine may be your parent.. brother sister.. pet .. or anyone at all.”
Soria raised her hand and asked, “Is it true that they make horses into glue?”
“Yes. Some glue is made from the hooves of beasts that have hooves. Nextly, you will go up to this box on the stage And inside you will find some amazing artworks in the form of valentines. You may choose one.”
We went up to the front and picked what we wanted to use for our Valentine and he went on. “Decorate your cardboard by daubing the glue on the face, then applying the artwork to it. Take your time with the pieces, Pick one that you especially like.”
“Mr Finesmith? How come there’s lots with angels with no clothes on em?” I asked.
“If you feel you cannot decide between several, or have more then one valentine. I can provide a second cardboard.. but only AFTER you have successfully shown me you have wrote in good penmanship, your name on the first.”
“Sorry I late!” Buster’s voice came as he raced into the school. I jumped hearing him walk in and blushed beat red, going to sit at my desk.
“LATE!” Mr. Finesmith exclaimed with wide eyes.
I shifted in my seat, looking over at Buster and waving softly. I made sure Buster didn’t see what I was working on as I worked.
“Ladies.. are their any questions? While you work?”
“Well um… There’s lots with angels… But they don’t got clothes.”
“And?”
“How come?”
“Moment lad… I will get to you shortly,” Mr. Finesmith said to Buster who raised his hand too. Looking at me he said, “This is called Art for a reason Young Natalie.”
“Was that an answer?” I leaned over to Zandra and whispered.
Mr. Finesmith handed Buster some glue and said, “This is glue. It is not food. It is not a toy. It is not a weapon. The glue is used to put on the card board I will be giving you shortly. We will not hurl the jar across the room or roll it on the floor. We will not take the glue home with us after the lesson. Understood?”
“My uncle David had a horse name GLUE!” Buster giggled.
“That’s a weird name for a horse,” I said.
“I don’t think it is,” Zandra said to me.
“Sir?” Buster raised his hand. “Why would we throw glue?”
“Why can’t we take the glue home afterwards?” Zandra asked.
“The glue will need to be used by another student.. then another.. until it is exhausted.” Mr. Finesmith said.
“Glue gets tired?” I asked.
“Today is Valentines day young man,” Mr. Finesmith said as he handed Buster a board. “And your lesson today will be construction of a valentine. You will use this piece of cardboard and that jar of glue to construct said Valentine. Now.. shortly- you will attend the box on the stage.. and inside the box- you will find bits of artwork. Retrieve one that you like.”
“What’s a Valentine?” Buster asked.
“And carefully, with the glue - daub a bit onto the cardboard to afix the artwork,” Mr. Finesmith said. But the Lesson is not the very construction of the piece but your penmanship in addressing it. Carefully write your name on it and the name of your intended to receive the Valentine.”
“Intended? Intended what?” Buster asked.
“Your valentine man be your Parent, brother, sister.. pet .. anyone at all. Now.. go to the stage and choose artwork from the box,” Mr. Finesmith said to him and then looked at us. “How are we doing ladies?”
I pulled my knees up under my chin as I finished writing Buster’s name, not looking at anyone and trying to hide the name as Mr. Finesmith went around looking at peoples’ work. He told us to take our time and be careful with the glue. I tried to be careful with the finishing touches. I was more nervous now that Buster was there as he went up to the front.
“Mr Finesmith?” Buster asked then. “Um is you only suppose to make ONE Balentine?”
“I can fetch your another cardboard. Anyone else need another?” Mr. Finesmith asked.
I wondered who else he’d make a valentine for and started to get nervous. I tried to think and then nodded, raising my hand for another piece of board and he gave it to me. I started to work on it as he handed out boards for other kids. I finished my valentines and then looked up at Mr. Finesmith. “Okay Mister Finesmith, what we do when we done?”
“Now. The delivery of our very special valentines. We have several methods. You can give them personally, you can give them to someone that you trust to hand them to your Valentine. If they need be mailed- I can mail them for you at the Wells Fargo. To be delivered today by Pony Express. Or.. I would be honored to deliver your card. If you cannot decide.”
I looked from him to Buster, and then at the other girls, wondering if they would make fun of me.
“And now students. That being said.... Enjoy your Valentines day!!!!!!! Believe me when I say that your work- while both stunning and thoughtful- will be treasured for years to come,” Mr. Finesmith said. “I hope you enjoyed the deviation from our regular lesson”
“I’m gonna still research where today came from, Mister Finesmith. I curious now,” I told him.
“Yes Miss Natalie,” Mr. Finesmith said.
“It’ll be in the Bee hopefully, Zandra! If I can get it done in time,” I told her.
Buster looked at me nervously and I looked back at him, blinking a bit as he told Mr. Finesmith, “I made one for my momma who is back east, and a someone else.”
“I am from the east as well- if you need it sent to her,” Mr. Finesmith said.
“No sir my Uncle David is going to go visit my mom, his sister, in a few weeks I can then,” Buster told him.
“Excellent. That being said.. Class is dismissed! McGuffey readers next week!”
I walked over to Buster and said, “Hey Buster?” I held his card and the pile of ma’s notes in my hands, not giving it to him yet.
“Hi Natalie,” Buster greeted me.
“You wanna um... go play that game on the bridge again? I jes gotta go home and drop off these notes from ma.”
“Um I gotta do some chores for Uncle but… maybe a little bit of time,” Buster said.
“Well um…” I fiddled with my dress.
“Buster… why the rush?”
“I have chores to do sir,” he said.
“Well uh... in case I don’t see you later…” I started.
“Why don’t you take a moment to speak to Miss Natalie.. to make up for your being late to class?” Mr. Finesmith asked. “I just may forget about that tardiness.”
I grinned and gave him a smile and then Buster said, “Um, okay sir.”
“Buster... I made um... I made somethin’ for you…” I looked at him nervously as Mr. Finesmith headed out of the schoolhouse, leaving us alone.
“Oh you make me sumthin to eat?” Buster asked.
I shook my head and reached for the valentine for him and handed it to him. “It’s got a cat, see?” I asked, shifting nervously.
“It’s nice.” He nodded. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome Buster. I um... I had lots of fun last week.”
“Me too, sorry I been busy a lot at the house to play.”
“It’s okay.” I nodded. “I’m just glad ya were... here today.”
“You wanna go to the bridge again?”
“Sure!” I nodded, though I was disappointed he hadn’t given me anything. “But um… Can we go to my place and drop off this big pile of notes?”
“Ok… I have sumthin for you too," Buster said. “But your hands full.”
“Well maybe um... you could give it to me at my house?” I giggled.
“Ok, um, we need to stop by mine too an ask Uncle David if I can do my chores a little later. I don’t wants a whippin.”
“Oh okay sure. Um.... well… You could give it to me and I’ll put it on this pile or somethin’.. you could help me carry em.”
“Ok. Uncle David says I’m a good helper.”
I grinned and handed him some of my notes. “Just don’t drop ’em or ma will be mad. But... they all numbered so we can put ’em back in order again. And ma’s got lots of copies at home.”
Buster put the valentine for me on the table and I felt my heart race as I looked at it. “Aww buster, that’s real nice! Thanks Buster!” I smiled and put it on the pile. “Well I wanna hug ya but I... um... got too much in my hands now.”
“Oh it’s okay, you ain’t gotta hug me.” He looked horrified at the thought.
“Come on, let’s take this stuff to my house. Then we’ll go find your uncle and see if you can play first before workin’.”
We walked outside where Zandra was waiting for her uncle to pick her up and I introduced her to Buster. She said she was 12 and when she blushed, I tried not to drop the papers and looked between them. Buster said that she could join us but then she said she had to go as her uncle and aunt arrived.
I got uncomfortable around the horses and I said, “Buster maybe we should get goin’.”
“Yeah Nat, in a minute.”
“I’m keepin’ my eye on you, boy! I can tell, yer’ a trouble maker!” Zan’s uncle pointed at Buster.
“He ain’t no trouble maker!” I exclaimed.
“No sir, I’m good! My Uncle David a lawyer he SUE me if I bad he said.”
“And my pa would have his hide if he weren’t good.” I giggled.
Zan introduced us to Mr. Harding and Miss Betina and Mr. Harding said, “Well then! You should make a good lawman someday!”
“I was just asking Zanny if’n she wants to join me and Nat to play a game at the bridge by the clock tower,” Buster said.
“Pleasure to meet you both... too bad Zanny has chores to do at the ranch,” Mr. Harding nodded. “Maybe some other time.”
Buster looked really disappointed and I sighed a bit and said, “Uh… Buster?”
“Maybe next time....Wahtta think Uncle….Pleeaaaaaaseeee??” Zanny pleaded.
“Mayyyybe.. but you have to tend to yer’ horses, and you have homework I am sure.”
“No sir Mr Finesmith gave us no homework,” Buster said.
“Buster... I gotta put these papers somewhere’s,” I said, feeling my arms getting tired and getting jealous as he was talking to her more than me. Finally, Buster started leading the way down the street and I waved to the others, walking back to Bisbee.
Bisbee.
I felt mad and didn’t know why and then heard Buster call my name. I stopped, trying not to be mad as I asked, “What?”
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothin’,” I said and kept walking to the house. I wandered into the house and plopped the files on the table.
“Nat, you looks like my aunt Meg when Uncle done something wrong.”
“I’m fine.” I shrugged. “Thanks for helpin’ me take the papers home.”
“Um where you like these?”
“Over there with the others works, I guess.” I nodded towards the papers on the table. “I jes…” I sighed. “How come boys always wanna hang out with other girls and not me? And the second some other girls walk over, I become invisible?”
Buster dropped the paper and they all got mixed up and he scooped them up, mixing them more. “Whatcha mean?”
I sighed, seeing the papers get mixed up, and was relieved they were numbered. “Happened with Jeff and Aspen. Now you and..”
“What you mean? You’re still my best friend.”
“I am?” I looked at him.
“My only friend… Well I think Zanny my friend too… But your my first really friend,” Buster smiled wide.
“Guess I can’t be mad if boys have other friends. I jes don’t like bein’ forgotten’ about when I’m holdin’ a bunch of papers. It’s a good thing these are numbered.” I said as I looked down at the papers.
“Oh good.”
“Sorry I got mad. I really liked your card.” I looked over at him nervously as I started to sort the papers.
“I’m glad.”
“Ma and I are writin’ a book. Did I tell ya?”
“I need to go see uncle David. Oh my gosh he gonna whip me awful!”
“Yeah. Ya should I guess. Maybe we can play later?”
“You don’t wanna go?”
“Oh, yeah I guess I can come with you. Come on!” I said and closed the door as we walked outside. “Pa says I gotta be careful who I bring to the house. But he says you okay.”
“Uncle David says your a little pest… but your harmless he says…” Buster covered his mouth. “Dang it Nat I sorry I says something Uncle David says I shouldn’t of.”
“I’m a pest?” I blinked.
“Not to me.”
“Well that’s good.”
“He says you asks a LOT of questions.”
“Only cause you gotta ask questions to get answers. Come on Let’s go tell your uncle I ain’t a pest.”
“PLEASE don’t say nuttin’.” Buster shook his head.
“Okay. I won’t.” I giggled.
“Thank you.” He sighed.
Tombstone.
We walked over to Uncle David’s house and I started to get nervous as we got closer. “Uncle David!” Buster shouted as we came up the hill.
“BUSTER SMITH NORWOOD, you get in THIS house RIGHT NOW mister!” Mr. David shouted out of the house.
“Uh oh... You in trouble.” I cringed for him and followed him inside nervously.
“Buster, what took you so long from school?” Mr. David asked.
“Um sir I was helping Natalie home,” Buster told him.
“I had a bunch of files from ma’s journals, sir. Ma and I are writin’ a book. And uh well, they was heavy,” I told him and he frowned at me.
“Sir I am really sorry, but I thought you would be ok with me helping.”
“Hmpfh… Well I guess,” Mr. David said. “How’s your folks Miss Paige?”
“They’re good…” I said.
“Good tell ’em I said hello.”
“Spendin’ more time in Bisbee. I’ll do that sir.” I looked over at Buster and said, “Don’t get Buster in trouble... It was my fault.”
“No, it’s fine Natalie. I’d rather Buster do right by you, always a gentlemen RIGHT Buster?” He asked, looking at Buster.
“Yes sir. The girls are a sucker for a strong, polite man , they’s melt in your hands…”
“Um… yes.” Mr. David coughed.
“And Buster’s real strong!” I put in.
“He is? Well then you wont have ANY problems chopping the wood for fire?” Mr. David asked him.
“Yes sir, I mean no sir.” Buster gulped.
“Now what is it we owe this visit Miss Paige, did you get lost from home?” Mr. David asked.
“I was gonna ask if we coulds play ’fore chores?” Buster asked.
“Play before chores?” Mr. David scowled and I gave him a pleading look.
“Um yes sir.”
“Go count the logs and let me know what we have.”
“Yes sir.” Buster ran out and I watched him go, not sure what to do.
“You’re writing like your Ma’ eh Natalie?” Mr. David asked.
“Yep we’re workin’ on a book... Kinda like Sherlock... of all her cases.”
“Nice… read some of your Ma’ stuff she will be famous someday.”
“Maybe famous like Sherlock!”
“Sir…” Buster said as he came back into the house.
“Well?” Mr. David looked at him.
“Sir there are 25 logs.”
“Ok you may play but, don’t go far. I call you for chores that’s it. Play over. OK young man?”
“Yes sir, thank you.”
“Thanks Mister David.” I grinned.
“Now get before I change my mind!”
We ran outside and Buster exclaimed, “Yay!”
“Wow, didn’t think we were gonna get that lucky!” I said excitedly.
“I am lucky Uncle David makes me work hard, but he fair,” Buster said.
“Uh huh! What you wanna do?”
We played the game with the sticks under the bridge again and I kept winning. We had lots of fun and then I headed back home when Mr. David called for Buster to do his chores.
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