Go West – Rebekah Lyn Books

The Fourth of July

To celebrate the Fourth of July, I decided to share an excerpt from my new novel, “Go WestGo West.” This chapter is written in Aldon’s voice as he writes to his brother in “Hollywood Land.”

Go west 32

The Fourth of July

By DiVoran Bowers Lites

Aldon

The town council voted to spend a lot of money on pyrotechnics this year. About dusk, we workers went around to the other side of the dam to set off the spectacle. You won’t believe this, Bill, but when we got all the fireworks, including spinning wheels and Roman Candles, laid out, a lighted match fell onto one of the displays and it blew up. That set off the rest of the fireworks and before we knew it, we had a shower of colored lights that illuminated the sky for miles around. They looked pretty reflecting in the lake for all of three minutes, and then it was over. The mayor was so furious, he headed for his automobile saying he was going to the fireworks salesman in Artesia and knock his block off. We managed to talk him out of it, but he took his wife down to City Hall to typewrite a letter of complaint.

It didn’t take long to get to the dance where they had the platform set up at the foot of the range. The folks enjoy the dance, but I never really cared about it. From the time we were boys, mother scrubbed us until our skin burned, then slicked back our hair with Madagascar oil. She parted it in the middle, remember that? We looked like little Lord Fauntleroys. We had to wear those suits, and above all, we had to behave like gentlemen. She took turns dancing with us when she wasn’t making us play our instruments. We had to smile the whole time and it made our faces hurt. With Ellie there though, I was thankful for Nancy’s determination to make gentlemen of us. Dad’s too.

Brother, this is a long letter, but I thought I’d work on it when I had time, then I could put it all in one envelope and save on postage.

I’ll tell you about the dance. Once the band got going, the Solanos didn’t miss a set, and every uncle and male cousin asked Ellie to join them on the floor. Believe me, she learned fast to keep her feet out of the way of their clodhoppers. Usually no man asks any woman to dance except his wife and sometimes his sister, but Ellie has a way about her that puts you at ease, and she’s so daggone shiny, they couldn’t help themselves. Dieter, then Arn went off the band stand to dance with her, so I did too. When I got right up to her I suddenly turned shy and didn’t know what to say. I might have chickened out altogether, but she smiled and put her arms out to me and I was a goner.

The band started the Varsouviana and she shook her head saying, “I can’t do this dance.”

“All right.” I turned away thinking she didn’t want to dance with me, after all.

“Could you teach me, though?” she asked and my heart flipped over.

“Why sure! Here’s how we start.” We had a couple of laughs wrestling to get the arms right. It came to me why people like to dance so much…so’s they can hold each other. All that practice, just so you can put your arms around somebody, Mother never told us about that part. We wouldn’t have liked it if she had. At first Ellie couldn’t get the hang of it, so I showed her a few steps and sang those words the school-teacher (Ma) taught us: put your little foot, put your little foot, put your little foot right down.

“I hate to tell you, but what I’m seeing is not a little foot,” she said, looking at my boots. I laughed so hard she finally had to slap me to make me shut up. Ha, not hard, just a tap on the cheek.

She soon got the hang of it and we rotated around the floor with all the other dancers. Throughout the evening, Nancy and Gertrude took turns with their three hefty brothers and with dad’s brother, Ernest, who lost his wife last year.

Go West is available at Amazon in three editions

Kindle, Regular Print, and Picture Edition.

Go West is going on tour! I hope you stop by on Monday, July 10 to learn more about Go West and enter for a chance to win one of five prizes. First to go will be beautiful art cards and then we’ll have the two eBooks.

Go West~Chapter 23

Go West

by DiVoran Lites

Chapter Twenty Three

Aldon-The train to Denver

One day Molly came out of Signor’s office to tell Aldon the master wanted to see him. When he opened the door, Signor Solano motioned for him to be seated. “Aldon, I have ordered a Packard Six automobile for Father Contenti and I want you to go to Denver on the train and bring it home. The Fitzgerald boy will teach him to drive so he can visit his parish. I hadn’t realized that he had to either ask the Pastor to take him or wait until Rudd went out before he could go. I invited him to apply to come here, he is my countryman and friend from my boyhood, and I’m sorry it took me so long to see what he needed.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be glad to do that. Is it all right if I go on Friday?” At Signor Solano’s nod, Aldon rose and turned to leave. Then he paused and turned back. “Sir,” he said, “Miss Ellie is looking tired. I think she’d enjoy a rest from her work here. Would it be all right if I took her along? I’ll be staying at the Cattleman’s, but she could stay somewhere else for the sake of propriety.”

After Signor Solano gave his permission, Aldon asked Ellie to go along. It didn’t take much to persuade her, but she refused to admit that she needed to get away. The whole plan changed when Lia heard about the jaunt. She invited herself to go too. She and Ellie could shop for clothes to wear to Molly’s birthday party and to the Fourth of July dance. Lia insisted they take Enrico, after all, he was family and a guest in their home. So the plans were made. Lia said that Aldon could stay at the Cattleman’s Hotel if he wished, but the rest of them would be at the Brown Derby, the best hotel in Colorado.
The train left Clifton at seven on a Friday morning. Aldon talked the conductor into letting him and Ellie stand out on the caboose platform so they would have a good view of the highest suspension bridge in the world as the train went along under it in the Royal Gorge canyon. Lia and Enrico sat inside grousing about getting up so early.

“Hey, kid,” said Aldon bringing up something he’d been wondering about. “I got the notion you were afraid of horses.”

“Yes.” Ellie dipped her head then looked up into his eyes. “The first horse I ever rode ran away with me and I got banged up. No broken bones, but after that, I thought I’d stay away from horses.”

“I noticed that you kind of like your mare and colt, though. Do you … like them all right, I mean? Summer is coming along fine in her training.”
“Yes, she is. You’re a good trainer. If someone had taken the time with that first horse, and if I’d had a few lessons I would have loved horses from the beginning.”

“You’re a natural and I have some more things to teach you.” Joy surged through him. “That young’n is having fun too. He’ll need hardly any training when he grows up.” Aldon slipped his arm around Ellie’s shoulders. He intended to give her a quick, one-armed hug, but the train lurched throwing him back against the caboose. When Ellie fell into his arms he braced himself and tightened his arms around her to keep her from falling. The minute she reached around him to hold herself steady, a blend of peace and pleasure flowed through him like hot coffee on a cold morning. He didn’t want to let her go. Then he recalled the time he’d held her at the beaver dam and how she had rared back and hit him saying, “Let me go you big lug. I can’t breathe…” Wait a minute, though. She had regained her balance and still she leaned into him. Sadly it didn’t last.

She pulled away as soon as she realized what was happening, but hope poured into his heart when she said, “Thank you for catching me, and thank you for teaching me to love.” She took a deep breath. I mean thank you for teaching me to love horses.”By this time they were out of the canyon and heading east toward Artesia.
When the train swept past the Colorado State Penitentiary where some the worst criminals in the west were incarcerated. Aldon thought about Cookie and his wife and granddaughter.

“I heard that Kate’s husband ended up in that pen,” Ellie remarked.

“Yes, he was here, but he’s not here any more.”

“What happened?”

“Everybody in the valley knew about it.”

“What did he do,” she asked.

“He killed a man.”

“What?” Ellie gasped. “That can’t be.”
“Cookie Fisher was a good man all right,” Aldon nodded. I told you he helped on cattle pushes and round-ups. His real job was at the saloon where he was the chief cook and bottle-washer.”

“What did he do?” Ellie asked.

“He had saved money to send for Kate and Seraphina and enough to build a cabin but it was time for Slick’s yearly visit to Clifton.”

“Slick? That’s a strange name for a man.”

“Not if you knew Slick,” he said. “He was a traveling gambler. People knew he cheated, but somehow he always got at least one sucker at a poker table. Cookie wanted to buy Kate furniture for the cabin. He ended losing the game and it was the last straw. He was still the underdog. The day after the game, he made a separate pot of chili for the gambler.”

“What did he put in it, arsenic?” Ellie asked.

“How’d you know? But I’ve got this to say for him, he put in enough so that Slick didn’t suffer long. My friend Sheriff Oates came up from Artesia to arrest him. After Cookie was tried, he was electrocuted – the first in the new electric chair.”

“Oh, poor Kate. She must be grieving so… I thought she was just standoffish.” Ellie put her hand on Aldon’s sleeve as if looking for comfort.. Aldon nodded and covered her hand with his until she drew away.
When the train pulled into the station, Aldon walked Ellie, Lia, and Enrico to a taxi. He held Ellie back for a moment.“I’m staying at The Cattleman’s and I’m going to the stockyard. After that, I’ll pick up the automobile. I’ll come get you then. I’d like it to be just the two of us.”

“Could I come with you now?” Ellie asked. He thought he heard a sweet message in her voice.

“You’d better ask the Signora, we don’t want her mad,” he answered. He went around to ask the driver to wait and in a moment Ellie was at his side telling him the answer was no.

“Mrs. Solano needs me.” Aldon saw that Ellie was sad and yet she squared her shoulders and climbed into the backseat of the taxi, which immediately pulled away.

Go West~Chapter 20

Go West

by DiVoran Lites

Chapter Twenty

Aldon’s letter to Ellie’s Family

Dear Mr. Cameron, Mrs. Cameron, and Mrs. Morgan

How do you do? It’s good to meet Ellie’s family. I hope all of you are in good health and prospering. You have a fine daughter and granddaughter in Ellie, who has certainly made a place for herself here. This morning, she asked me to write you about my wartime adventures. She thought her grandfather, particularly, might be interested in them. There isn’t much to tell, but I’m happy to tell what there is.

I flew a Nieuport Bebe in France. It was retrofitted with camera equipment so we could get photographs of what the enemy was doing. By the time the war ended, I was twenty-five. That was considered an old man by the flyers and photographers because not many of us survived to that age.

We were billeted in a small chateau in a pear orchard away from the front. It was spring, and my window framed clusters of white blossoms on the trees. My room had a linoleum floor, a chifforobe for clothes, a table and chair, and an electric light. The bed was lumpy, but the feather quilt (they called it a duvet) came in handy for cold nights. We slept whenever we got the chance. The doc said that was the way we got our energy back after being in danger for such long hours.

I did wish they had a horse or two around there. I could have ridden or spent some time working with them. By that time, they’d all been eaten. I understand the French still eat horse meat. I guess you’d have to develop a taste for it, and forget you’d had several best friends who happened to be horses.

I missed my family while I was gone, but they wrote and sent packages when they could. Ma and my Aunt Molly knit a lot of socks and what they called balaclavas for the soldiers, and I got my share of those. I guess about everybody knows what a balaclava is, but in case you don’t, it’s a warm cap that comes down over your ears and up onto your chin.. In case you’re wondering what I did with them all, I passed them around. A good, thick balaclava can come in handy in the wintertime.

Ma and Molly also sent a homemade cake packed in popcorn. By the time we opened the package, the popcorn had worked its way into the cake. We ate it anyhow and the boys went crazy over it. I’ll bet they never get another one like it.

Many pilots started out as photographers. I hear tell that the Red Baron fellow started out as a photographer before he became an ace fighter pilot. Most of us had only seen a camera once or twice – when the school photographer, or the man with the goat cart came around. We had a lot to learn, but our lack of knowledge didn’t count against us. They constantly changed out the equipment and we had to figure out how to use it.

When I became a pilot they kept me in surveillance. In Belgium, my passerger could hardly find anything to take pictures of. The countryside was desolate as far as you could see. Once in a while you might catch the stump of a burned tree or a bombed out building, but most of the landscape was just wet mud or dried mud – not much variety in that.

I’m thinking the following is the story Ellie wanted me to tell. If it was a school essay, I suppose I’d entitle it, “My Closest Call.” It happened while the photographer and I were flying behind the lines. The place hadn’t been destroyed yet, but the Huns were doing their worst. Our engine started sputtering, so I shut it off and looked for a place to land. It was quiet then — just us and the wind whistling past our ears. We lost altitude fast, so I decided to set down in a field. That all went fine until the bus picked a downhill slope and flipped when it landed. We were upside down with two wings broken by the time we stopped sliding. Fortunately, the bus did not blow up — probably because Somebody reminded me to turn off the gas. A group of resistance folk saw us coming down and got us out of the airplane and into a barn tuit de suite as they say in France, toot sweet. The next thing I knew, the Bebe was hidden under a sort of haystack. They didn’t have much vegetation, but they put canvas and branches over it so no one could spot it from the air.

They brought us stew with plenty of turnips and not much meat and were we ever glad for it. They got word to our side right away. A crew came in a big truck and hauled us and the Bebe back to base. I kept on flying and even taught a few pilots until the war ended. That’s it for now.

Come on out to Colorado and see us. Come in the fall if you can, the quaking aspen is most colorful at round-up time.

DiVoran’s Promise Posters, Paintings from Go West as well as other art can be purchased as note cards and framable art

Creative Arts

Go West~Chapter 9

Go West

by DiVoran Lites

Chapter Nine

Ellie

Aldon drove the Ford in next to the barn and and Pastor Rudd pulled his Stutz up behind them. Molly, Kate, and Seraphina got out and Ellie followed them to the house. A moment before she went up the back steps, she turned to see what the men were doing.

Aldon, the Signor, and Enrico stood next to Pastor Rudd, who had lifted the hood of his car, and seemed to be explaining its workings. Enrico, however, was watching her with an expression of adoration. She turned away confused. Had she done or said something to make him think she wanted his attention? She recalled only that one thought about how good-looking he was. Had it shon in her face?

By the time she got to her room, changed into a housedress, and descended to the kitchen, Molly was bustling around like a waitress in a train station cafe.

“Oh here she is at last,” Molly said. “Ellie, Signor Solano believes in a Sabbath Day of rest for servants as well as for the master, so we’re having sandwiches for our noon meal.” Before Ellie could reply, Molly spoke to Kate, who stood with her back to the counter and the child leaning against her watching everything.

Because Kate wore a calico headscarf that hid any degree of grayness in her hair, and she had a young-looking face, it was hard to judge her age. All Ellie knew was that she was old enough to be the grandmother of a four or five-year-old child. Kate’s long-fingered hands rested lightly on the child’s chest, probably to keep her out of the way until Molly told them what to do.

“Are you hungry?” Molly inquired of the girl.

“Yes,” Seraphina nodded without looking up.

“She fine,” Kate said, getting a light grip on the child’s shoulders.

“I’ll say who is fine in me own kitchen if you please.” Molly’s mouth gathered into a pursed stricture. “Sure’n it’s my house to run. If somebody is hungry here, they will eat, or I’ll know the reason why.”

“Yes’m,” Kate said. She had a wary look that told Ellie she wasn’t one to talk back.

“Butter a piece of bread for the child and sprinkle plenty of sugar on it,” Molly told Ellie.

“I take it Seraphina, means angel.” Molly spoke now to Kate, who nodded. “She might have some Caucasian, as well as Indian in her. I don’t know what tribes you have where you come from but here we have the Utes, mostly they’re all gone now, though.”

Ellie had found the bread on the counter, sliced off a piece, slathered it with butter, and then sprinkled sugar over it. The child looked up with an impish grin as she handed it to her.

“Ah, she’ll be something when she grows up,” said Molly. “You can tell from those light green eyes that she’s a smart one. Here in our valley, everyone gets along. Folks help each other. During the Great War, we people with ancestors from Germany, England, and Ireland buried our young men in the community cemetery and mourned our losses together. Ellie, get the ham out of the refrigerator. We traded five pounds of beef for that. It’s a treat to have something different for a change.” Molly seemed to be letting off steam by talking whether anyone was listening or not. “Kate sit that child down at the table and make yourself useful. You and Ellie can make the sandwiches on that counter over there, assembly line style like that Mr. Ford up there in Michigan.”

“Kate I knew your husband,” Molly said slicing radishes into red-rimmed rounds and throwing them in the bowl on top of the lettuce that had grown in the ranch garden. Next she would add sliced carrots and scallions, all home grown. “Mr. Fisher, Cookie, we called him, was a good humble man. I’ll bet you were surprised when you got here and found out he was gone. I knew him from working with him to prepare food for cattle drives. Once Aldon’s Ma moved to Artesia, we needed a camp cook and he applied, even though he worked most of the time at the saloon. He probably had a real good reason for what he did to that gambler fella.”

Ellie, for one, was listening; she wanted to know as much as possible about the community she had moved into. What had Mr. Fisher done? Why did he make a serious mistake right when his wife and granddaughter were on their way to join him?

“Kate and Seraphina can sleep in the room next to yours, Ellie. The child must be with her granny so she won’t be scared. The rooms are already clean because I regularly mop the floors and risk my life washing windows by sitting on the sill with the top of me hanging outside. I need to train both of you and that will take me all my time. But you’ll do for help and company until Aldon’s mother, Nancy, gets tired of working in the café with her sister and comes back to us.”

Just then, Signora Solano came into the kitchen. She was so stunning Ellie couldn’t take her eyes off her. She wore a red silk dress with jet beads swinging from a generous bosom. The beads were no blacker or shinier than her hair, which she wore, in a low bun on the nape of her neck. To Ellie, it looked ready to fall down at any minute. She wore high-heeled shoes but had a cloth wrapped around her ankle as if she’d been hurt.

“What happened to your leg?” Molly asked.

“It is no business of yours,” said the Signora lifting her head in disdain. “I am the mistress here, not you.” Then suddenly she rushed over to the child eating her sugar bread at the table. She squatted down next to the chair.

“Bella, bella! Who are you, bambino?”

“I am Seraphina and I am five-years-old.” The child showed five fingers. “I want to be four, but Granny says I already been that and I can’t go back to be it again. How old are you?”

Kate stepped over, rapped Seraphina on the head with one finger, and hissed at her. The child’s expression turned mulish.

“I’m four times five,” Signora Solano answered frowning at the older woman. “Do you know how old that is? Have you learned to cipher, yet?”

“What’s cipher?” the child demanded, looking into the signora’s face and smiling.

“Adding, subtracting. It’s arithmetic.” Signora reached up and cupped the girl’s chin in her hand, but Seraphina jerked away.

“We don’t teach arithmetic to such young children around here,” Molly broke in. “They can’t learn it.”

“Do you like stories, little one?” Ignoring Molly Signora spoke directly to the child.

“Oh, yes. I will give you my sugar bread if you will tell me a story.” She offered the crust, which was all she had left.

“You behave now, chile. This lady ain’t got time for the likes of you,” Kate spoke sternly. “Pardon, ma’am, but our last lady took time with her and now the chile she think she somethin’”

Signora Solano at last standing and looking around saw Ellie. “Your hair! I did not notice it when we met last night.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Ellie’s hands flew to her hair.

“It’s bobbed!” Signora Solano sang out.

“Yes, ma’am.” Ellie nodded. “But I can grow it out, if you …”

“No, no, I want mine bobbed, too.” Signora Solano automatically started pushing in hairpins that had come loose from the chignon on the back of her neck. “It is heavy, it falls down, it is hot.”

“Oh, yes, ma’am, perhaps you would allow me to style it for you.” Ellie took a deep breath.

Seraphina put her hands in her hair in imitation of Signora Solano. “My hair is heavy, I’m hot,” whined the child.