Time Warp
By Robert Faulkender ©
In less than a minute a young black woman, twentyish, entered. She smartly closed the door behind her, glanced briefly at Skillman, and turned to the old man, “What is it, father that is so important makes you shout like some heathen?”
To Ted’s surprise the man smiled. “Sergeant here wants a ride out to the Tarbutton place, Sarah.”
Sarah? ...Oh, my god. Ted was stunned… little Sarah?
The girl’s fingers came to her lips. With recognition, tears welled in her eyes. “Is it you, Sheriff? Oh, lord we thought you were dead or something.” Sarah ran to him, threw her arms around his neck. She cried; she laughed; she shook him.
Skillman’s mind flashed back to the morning he delivered three orphaned black children to his mother and step-father’s homestead. The oldest boy was leading his younger sister and little brother to Kansas; that is, until they ran a muck of Sheriff Skillman. Rather than arrest and jail them for theivery, the sheriff turned the three over to his parents for raising and schooling.
Sarah and Ted, with Josh driving a buckboard, road west out of town to the Tarbutton farm. Josh was the husband of Sarah and the “son” in Clay and Son Transfer Company. The way Sarah told it, Josh had seen her in town with Mattie and Marty Tarbutton and was smitten. He called on Marty twice, and the second Sunday, asked for Sarah’s hand. She was seventeen.
The comely girl smiled at Josh. “I knew I could love this man, but it wasn’t that easy to decide. We kids were bound by a dream. And, as different as we were, the Tarbuttons made us feel like family.” She turned back to Ted. “You did good, sheriff.”
She continued, “At that point, my older brother made it easy for me. He announced it was time for him to act on the dream. Joseph wanted to go to Kansas alone, establish a home, and send for anyone who wanted to join him when things were in place. Turned out, a year later, he had a mechanic job with a motor car repair shop in Army City, outside Fort Riley, Kansas. He sent for Danny to join him six months later. ”
By late afternoon, the buckboard topped one more ridge line, and Ted looked down on the ranch where he had spent most of his growing years. They turned off the road onto the wagon trail that led to the farm house. Mattie Tarbutton appeared on the front porch.
The moment she recognized her first born son, tears of joy and sorrow ran down her cheeks. The past rushed back: moments of her girlhood in Ohio, of Teddy’s father, Zeke Skillman; her son’s long absence. She couldn’t move. He approached slowly, and when he was within arm’s reach he swept her off the porch steps and hugged her to him.
She drew back and they studied each other. Ted scanned the time-carved changes in Mattie’s face while she searched for the little boy in the man before her.
 |
| Just a Memory |
He released her slowly. “It’s great to see you, mom. You’re the one true thing I miss about this place.”
The train ride to Wichita was only a partial wind-down from the fracas in Columbus. Arrival at home to a crowd of relatives, with everyone trying to link past happenings to the present events, further drained his energy. Ted Skillman was exhausted. Late in the evening he fell into bed with the intent to sleep for a week.
And what had Mattie said about mail?
No comments:
Post a Comment