THE SHERIFF'S GRANDSON: Comments here, please!

[Linn Keller, SASS 27332, BOLD 103]

I was away from the story for a few days, my apologies.

Difficulties on this end of the hacienda, we're waiting for tests to come back on the mother in law.

I spoke rather sternly to my bride -- she was waffling on whether to go down and be with her Mama -- I told her GO, do NOT wait until the family is called in.

I did that with my own mother -- thought I had more time -- we arrived a half hour after she shrugged out of her tired old body and ascended to the Hereafter.

The mother in law had a stroke Thursday.

Now her calcium is through the roof, she is for multiple tests today, and I am ready to shred my Mr. Fix-it hat I was born with, because ... well, I can't fix-it!

Will advise if there will be a few days' hiatus in the story.

Just wanted you-all to know I'm not out drinkin' beer, chasin' women, gamblin' away my life's savings and otherwise enjoying my summer!

[Calico Mary]

Linn, yu take care of whut needs takin' care of.....we'll still be here when yu git a rountuit

[Short Term Emory]

Linn, ya gotta take care of family first. We'll be here when ya get back. Thoughts and prayers for you wife and your MIL

[Charlie MacNeil, SASS #48580]

Prayers up, partner!

[Linn Keller, SASS 27332, BOLD 103]

The more things change, the more they remain the same.

When something like this hits, it's the women that mobilize, the women that get things done and the women who quietly, efficiently, keep the family held together and moving.

My beautiful bride went down to Belpe and her sister and niece came up from North Carolina.

The women converged and took over as women do in times of family crisis.

My poor father in law has not had a full night's rest in half a year and more; last night was the first night the poor man got a full night's uninterrupted rest.

Yesterday was the first time he sat down to a quiet, peaceful meal.

The ladies are taking turns sitting with my mother in law over in the hospital room, trying to keep her tethered to reality, trying with voice and touch to keep some link with the here-and-now.

Women have done this for ages and eons, women of our beloved American West did it, and here we see these strong women coming together for the family, when the family needs them.

I wrote and deleted a half-dozen paragraphs that rather technically, clinically, discussed the mother in law's specific medical conditions, their effects, the search for a cause and projected medical sequelae, but this is not the place for those particulars.

This is, however, the place to speak of those remarkable women, those strong and capable women, those caring souls who share a healer's gift.

[G. I. Tarpicker, SASS #998]

Here's a song lyric by the late Texas song writer Tim Henderson which seems to fit the situation. -- GIT

 

 

Maria Consuelo Arroyo © Tim Henderson, Snake Hollow Music (BMI)

 

Maria Consuelo Arroyo was born and was raised on the south side of town
Her eyes holding midnight the face of an angel come down
In softness and beauty she grew like a rose without thorn
At fifteen she married, at sixteen her first child was born

And time is a lover, the planter in ripeness who harvests your dreams
And time is a river that sweeps us along in its stream
He brings us together then forces us cruelly apart
And there's no wrinkled crone in her dry skin and bones
Who is not a young girl in her heart

Maria Consuelo Arroyo, she bore seven more on the south side of town
And the love for her family, like soft rain, came whispering down
Like flowers in a garden they flourished in beauty and grace
With their eyes like dark mirrors, reflecting the love in her face

And time is a traitor, yes time is the villain who stalks on our stage
The bringer of darkness the bringer of wrinkles and age
He brings souls together then forces them cruelly apart
And there's no wrinkled crone in her dry skin and bones
Who is not a young girl in her heart

Maria Consuelo Arroyo, her man fell in battle across the dark seas
Her children were scattered like feathers that ride down the breeze
She kneels in the darkness, nine candles she lights every day
And Padre Alfonzo remembers their names when he prays

And time's the black angel, a dark curandero who brings the long sleep
And time is the shepherd who keeps a good watch on his sheep
He brings back together the souls that he once tore apart
And he comforts old crones in their dry skin and bones
For he still loves the girl in their heart

 

And time is a lover, the planter in ripeness who harvests your dreams

[Short Term Emory]

I love the way you I troduced a current and very relevant topic into the latest chapter!! Great job Linn

[Linn Keller, SASS 27332, BOLD 103]

OOPS ...

I replied to the wrong chapter instead of the most recent!

Sorry about that!

But thank you for that kind comment.

And now for my next act I'll put my OTHER foot in my mouth!

(rattling sound as I dig in silverware drawer for a spatula ... need to scrape the egg off my face ...)

 

[Linn Keller, SASS 27332, BOLD 103]

Okay, entry 54 is fixed, sorry about that.

[Major E A Sterner #12916]

Found this on page 5, figured it should be brought up to page 1 again...Looking forward to the next installment.

[Linn Keller, SASS 27332, BOLD 103]

Just got 'er posted, Major.

The Old Sheriff was probably watching the discussion and decided it was time to let the lad's father counsel the boy, instead of the shade (no matter how solid) of a man dead a century and more.

[Linn Keller, SASS 27332, BOLD 103]

First, GI Tarpicker, many thanks: that poem about roping a grizzly had me laughing loud and most heartily! -- as did the tale about gettin' back in that hole!

And as I often do, I spliced some actual experience into the last entry, where brother Will shot the mirror.

And his desk.

No, I'm not the luckless cop that did that ... but it was a dark night, we did find the glass door was busted with a concrete block, our Marshal went in, and another deputy and I stood at opposite corners of the building in case any intruder tried to escape, and the Marshal went bird dogging in.

We heard that BOOOOOOOM of his Stiff & Worthless model 19 and I fetched up the five-watt talkie and keyed up on the Sheriff's frequency to report shots fired, code ten -- not realizing I was standing precisely in the center of a radio dead zone, I may as well have stuck my head in a five gallon bucket and hollered for all the good it did me -- my brother deputy and I headed for the door and the Marshal came out, shaking his head and waving us back.

"Joe, I heard --"

"You didn't hear nothin'!"

"But I heard -- it echoed off the --"

"You didn't hear a thing and that's an order!"

Now I am a suspicious sort, and later that night I swung back and looked in the trash can and found what was left of the mirror.

The janitor was a man with a thirst, and the Marshal bribed him with a six pack to make the problem go away.

I give the janitor twenty bucks as a case of beer if he'd be dead certain to make it go away, by the way, what really happened? -- and that's how I found out the Marshal shot his own reflection.

This is the same character that found a rubber snake in his desk drawer.

An anonymous wiseacre put in an anonymous call to the police station that the traveling carnival's snake trailer was broke into, and snakes all over the town square, and here come poor old Joe all elbows and kneecaps and that six cell Mag Lite just a-swingin' as he came steamboatin' down the alley.

He was all over that snake trailer with that light and when he determined the call was unfounded, he went a-stompin' and a-cussin' back up the alley to station.

The caller took advantage of his absence to plant the snake.

Unlike brother Will, Joe only fired once, but he killed that rubber snake grave yard dead.

He also found himself obliged to patch the crater the riccochet spalled out of the floor, and he repainted the inside of the jailhouse.

I wasn't the one who made the call.

I was standing beside the caller chewin' on my knuckles to keep from laughin', and yes I did know about the snake he planned to plant, and no I never did tell.

[Linn Keller, SASS 27332, BOLD 103]

i feel like a wrung out dishrag.

The Sheriff's Grandson is now done.

Last chapter is called "Closing the Circle" because it does just that.

Sarah came a-canter up beside me yesterday at work -- I was on the riding mower after putting 3.8 miles on the weed eater (only ran that machine til noon, I usually put over 4.5 miles weed eating) -- and she suggested since I was finishing this one, I might want to try one called "The Black Agent" and tell her story, from her perspective.

I loves the wimmens, I surely do, I can write her story with a glad heart, but how say you, compadres -- should I spin this new yarn and tell of her time as the Black Agent, this bronze shield of the Firelands District Court?

[G. I. Tarpicker, SASS #998]

Go for it!! -- GIT

[Wallaby Jack, SASS #44062]

Who knows ?

 

......... mayhaps Jacob will have a story when he grows up too ........ <hint/hint>

 

 

 

YOU DUNN GOOD!

[Short Term Emory]

I truly loved every word of this wonderful story. Lynn, you are a gifted writer in my opinion. And I'm sorry to see this on me come to an end. But I CAN'T WAIT to see what happens in the adventures of the Black Agent!!!

 

BRAVO sir!!!