WOMEN OF THE WEST' -- Part 9

CRABTREE

Posted By: David (email)
Date: 2/15/2005 at 12:15:37

CHARLIE PARKHURST

'A Lifetime of Disguise'
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He was sitting straight and riding easy atop the Wells Fargo stagecoach, the
reins grasped between his gloved fingers, sharing a bottle with his partner,
Ed Maguire. There seemed nothing remarkable about him; he was just another
stage driver bent on making his run. It was the spring of '59 and I was a
kid, with long braids the color of dried wheat batting at my ears and
getting in the way of sitting down. Me and Ma and Baby John were coming
west from Pittsburgh to join Pa, who had come to California to seek his
fortune in gold. This was the last leg of our long, hard journey. We
capped the Sierras and began our hazardous ride down the mountains to
Placerville. I'd been sick for the last couple of hours and was just
praying we'd get to a watering station soon.

But it was Charlie Parkhurst that really kept my mind busy. He was up there
on top of the world, the warm sun beating down on his rugged face, which
barely showed beneath the wide brim of a muddy tan hat. A knotted
handkerchief was tied around his neck, and he wore leather pants and scuffed
boots with high heels that made him walk like a cowboy and not like anything
I'd seen back home. All trace of newness was long since gone from his
clothes. The dust of travel was beaten into them. They were stained and
mended around the deep pockets. Yet a kind of Wild West adventure
surrounded him, and I couldn't keep from wondering about his curious face.

Ma must have sensed what I was thinking, for she shook her head scoldingly.
"Amy, remember your manners. He can't help wearing a black patch over his
eye. Probably lost it fighting off some wild savages."

I guess she was probably right. At least it was an interesting thought,
making him taller in my eyes. Ma had always been scared of Indians. I don
t know why; we'd never seen any in Pittsburgh. Oh, maybe she had, once.
But I hadn't, least of all the scalping kind. What worried me was meeting
up with one of those dangerous outlaws haunting the trails that we'd heard
so much about. Besides, guns -- even Pa's -- made my ears ring.

"Amy," Ma said again, "looks like we're coming to a stop. See that cluster
of frame buildings up ahead?"

She must have had real good eyes, for it was hard to see anything out the
window, except the clouds of choking yellow dust billowing up. Occasionally
I could se the peaks of the tall mountains on either side. A stop and a
cup of cold water sure would be welcome.

I was staring out the window again, my braids flying over my shoulders, when
Charlie drew in the reins of the tired horse team, yelling at several men
who came out of the wood cabin. Here we would take on mail, water, and a
change of horses.

To Be Continued . . . "Hey, Charlie!"
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Copied by Nancee(McMurtrey)Seifert
February 14, 2005
iggy29@rnetinc.net