when I woke up I was in a bed at John and Marias place. I guess that horse headed back home after all. werent really anything I gave a damn about. but I knew if I dint get out of bed Id spend the rest of my life mopin.
juanita and Maria and even Gabriela came and sit with me some, but I dint need motherin and hand holdin, I hadda make myself do sumthin othern lyin around bein sad.
got outta that bed and I walked all over the ranchero tryin to shake the melancholy.
I walked down to the creek where that first senorita had smiled at me. I dint remember her name, but I seen her here on the ranchero now and then. she was a fat old abuela now, with a herd of grandkids. the creek was different and dint look the same. I guess the floods had changed it some.
I walked down to the old family place. Granpa had built a well, then built four dogtrot shacks in a square around the well. then he built a parapet around the inside of it. It was a regular lil fort. I remember part of my chores as a boy was to get the water, but I spent more time throwin rocks down the well. John and Maria had built a nice hacienda a few minutes away, and after Granpa and Pa had passed, that became the family home.
I jist walked from place to place. dint feel like ridin.
dint feel like drinkin niether. I seen too many men try to drink sorrow away, and as the booze poured into them they jist flowed back into that bottle and stayed there. I dint know what was left for me, but it werent lookin out of a bottle.
John jr cussed me good, tolt me it was my fault the boys got kilt. he was scairt when he said it, like he thought I would shoot my own damn nephew. but he had sand and said it anyway. tolt me I was a disappointment to Ma and had wasted my life and the boys too. couldnt argue with him, but dint agree with him neither. John grabbed him and herded him away, but not before John jr had his say. dint make me any sadder but it did git me thinkin.
I went back down to where I had my first smile and figgered on it. what is the point of life when all else is said and done? aint there somethin in the good book about bein happy and multiplyin? after all Ma had beat that good book on my head I ought to have remembered that.
I reckoned to get my head straight, so I rode over to san antone to get a whore.
but when I got to san antone, I dint really feel like bronc bustin. werent sad and melancholy anymore but jist like I dint want to. I sat in a saloon and drank a little whiskey and a lot of coffee and ate some pie. I started watchin this one whore.
she seemed happy but she dint go with ever customer. she turned away most of em, matter of fact. she was pretty if not beautiful. looked half-mex and half-white, and was on the chubby side which never bothered me none. I asked the barkeep, said she was almost new, been there bout three months. said the madame dint care if she was slow on the tricks as she was so happy and friendly and she made the ones she went with very happy. turned out her name was Gabriela
I watched her for a coupla days. then I took her upsatirs. then I married her.
it dint seem strange to me that I married a gal named Gabriela, cept she called herself Gabby, after losin the other gal Gabriela I had loved them years back. it did seem strange that I got married atall. dint mean to do it. the words jist came out when I wasnt lookin. onct I said it though I couldnt go back on it.
Gabby was a happy gal, and she was even happier after she stopped whorin. her own ma had been a whore, a mex gal, and had died soon after Gabby had formed as a woman. I surprised too that Gabby was so young, at sixteen.
now Id seen before when whores lied to their customers, tellin all sorts of sad stories to get a lil more money or a comfortin shoulder and sometimes even to marry em. if Gabby did that to me, I dint care, coz it worked for the both of us.
I brought Gabby back to the ranch.the family was glad to see her. nobody gave a damn shed been a whore. must of surprised them when I brung home a wife after all those years tellin I werent gonna marry a dumb woman. they was even happier when I got her pregnant a few months later. I tried to be careful about that and to pull the sin of onan but she wasnt a dumb gal and caught on to that fair early. dont matter if you spill on her belly or on the ground if you dont want babies. onct she figgered it out she would buck into me pretty good when it was finishin time.
and there was more joy on top of that. both Jesus and Tommy had both gotten girls pregnant. they was a coupla months ahead of Gabby, but it dint look like there was gonna be a shortage of wet nurses around the ranchero. there was a thing that was both sad and funny in that Tommy's baby looked white where he had looked mex, and Jesus's baby looked mex where hed looked white. the girls made me sad and proud still when they named the new boys after my boys.
John and Maria built me a hacienda of my own as a wedding present. but John made it clear I was to stay on the ranch and not get anywhere near a situation I might shoot sombody, like rustlin cattle on the mex side. John had put the kibosh on that after the boys died anyhow. but if John was gonna build me a home, he expected me to stay put. I guess I dint mind that. I was too tired to gallivant around anyhow. Me and Gabby made the girls live with us. we wanted them babies too. them girls become sisters to Gabby.
I tied helpin around the ranch, but as I remembered, roundin up cattle was borin as hell. mostly I jist went gully jumpin. all them babies around the house wasnt borin, but it wasnt what Id call excitin either. I had the excuse to go ridin for cattle after my passel of babies started a ruckus. them poor gals had to stay and deal with it. I shouldnt laff about that but I guess thats my own trick.
Gabby popped out another baby the next year, and another the year after that. even with all the baby cryin it was a joy to be at home, pickin up my son and daughters and my grandkids, and lettin Gabby try to get another baby in her.
that was when that goddamn yankee came to write the book. I let him do it sos I could buy some fancy trinkets and dresses for Gabby and the girls.
the last thing I have to say is that I miss the Grey, and I kind of miss the fighting. I miss the joy of being young and in love. I miss the plains and watchin for Comanche. but now I dont feel like raisin hell. I dont even want to kill goddamned yankees anymore. it makes me happy to be with my own family and see my wife happy with a herd of babies at her feet.
I'll teach em to shoot and ride soon enuff.
When time enough had lapsed and all those little brats
To noble man and womanhood had grown,
It wouldn't seem half so lonely as round us we should look
And we'd see the old sod shanty on our claim.
The Story So Far
Part One, in which Wallace Stevens returns home from the Civil War, then joins the Texas Rangers.
Part Two, wherein our desperado steals a Comanche princess and deserts the Rangers.
Part Three, in which Wallace attempts to return home again yet to put himself into more trouble.
Part Four describes the shootist's adventures as a hired gun in Mexico.
Part Five, wherein Wallace reminisces over his favorite weapons.
Part Six returns the gunman to New Orleans, where he joins a buffalo hunting crew.
Part Seven in which Wallace reflects on killing and the War.
Part Eight relates the tale of buffalo hunting and the last of the buffalo Indians.
Part Nine, wherein Wallace reflects upon his life with the fairer sex
Part Ten brings misfortune to our unreconstructed rebel.
Part Eleven, in which Wallace is quartered in Austin far longer than he'd like.
Part Twelve brings Wallace face to face with Austin's Jack the Ripper, a fiendish killer of women.
Part Thirteen, in which the pardoned outlaw suffers his greatest losses
