A SECOND CHANCE

By Carol Pahl ©1999

"Hey, Lou. You ready?" Teaspoon asked the young rider waiting for the exchange about to take place.

"Yep. I see Cody comin' now." She mounted her horse waiting for the approaching rider.

"Who's around?"

"I think Kid and Ike are behind the barn, trying to fix that busted saddle," she replied, making the catch swiftly before exiting the station at a gallop.

Teaspoon walked around the barn, glad to see some of the boys showing the initiative to do extra chores without constant reminders. Ike carried the repaired saddle into the barn as Kid gathered their tools. "Boys, when you get that stuff put away, come over to the bunkhouse. I need to talk to ya."

"What's up, Teaspoon?" Kid asked as the two boys met the older man on the porch.

"Jack Downing got hurt delivering supplies to the way stations. I need you two to take the wagon and finish delivering the stores down the line."

What about our runs? Ike signed.

"The others will cover till you get back. Them stations need that stuff. Besides Downing was already behind schedule. The wagon's waiting in town. Get a move on. You can ride in with Rachel on the buckboard."

Knowing arguing wouldn't get them out of this added chore, the boys packed their bedrolls. Riding a week on an old freight wagon would leave them eager for riding the trails on horseback.

"Ride safe, boys." Rachel's salutation followed them as they rode west from Sweetwater, the freight wagon loaded with grain, flour and other food stores. Ike drove the wagon first, Kid sat silent lost in his own thoughts. Fifteen miles later the boys reached their first stop. An hour later they continued, Kid driving.

At least now we can have some conversation.

"Sorry, Ike. I wasn't payin' attention. Did you want something?"

Where you at, anyway?

"I'm right here beside you." Kid replied disgustedly.

I don't like this anymore than you do. You can at least be civil.

"I just ain't got nothin' ta say."

"Ike, 'fraid I won't be very good company today." Tomorrow be better?

Kid smiled at his friend. "I'll try to make today better. I'm just confused about what to do."

Then tell me about it. You can talk and drive. If I drive, I can't talk and you won't.

Kid sighed but spent the rest of the afternoon driving and watching Ike talk.

"This empty country sure goes by faster on horseback. Think anything could be rougher than riding in a wagon day after day." Ike drove the wagon and didn't reply. He was happy the Kid was in a better mood this morning. Two stations down and three more to go before they would return east. The sun warmed the dry summer air.

An hour later the boys came to a steep gully. Recent rains fed the small stream and they looked for a better crossing. A half-mile north, the trail looked better. The gradual eastern slope crossed the creek to a grassy bank on the west.

"I think we'd better unload some of these boxes before we try crossing."

Ike nodded in agreement and they started removing the remaining boxes. The old team balked at entering the soggy ground but the mist created by the running water cooled the men. The team reached the opposite bank when the wagon suddenly shifted and refused to budge.

"I'll push," Kid offered jumping into the water. He reached the back of the wagon and tried lifting the stuck wagon. "Try it now, Ike." Ike slapped the reins and the team jerked forward. Kid leaned his weight behind the wagon and it began to roll forward. "Try it again." He yelled. The boy on the wagon repeated the process and the team again jerked the stubborn wagon.

Something snapped and Kid slipped under the wagon, his foot entangled in a submerged tree limb. Ike jumped off the wagon and waded out to the trapped rider. One of the remaining boxes rested in the water. A gash on Kid's forehead saturated his hair with blood. Ike grabbed his friend's shoulders and tried to pull him loose but couldn't release him. The wagon settled more pinning Kid into the muddy mire.

Ike looked for a branch, something to pry the wagon off of the other rider.

"Take one of the horses and get help. We ain't that far from Atlantic City. I'll be all right. I promise not to leave without you." He smiled at his friend. Kid's right arm was pinned under the disabled wagon and his other arm held onto the wagon, keeping his head out of the water.

I'll be back soon.

The mute boy mounted the horse riding bareback toward the nearest town, eight miles away. Ike rode into the small settlement, looking for the sheriff's office. Spotting several men gathered down the main street, he slipped down off the horse and ran toward them waving his arms.

"That's him," shrieked a young woman. "That's who attacked me."

Ike looked around behind him since the dark haired girl pointed in his direction. Seeing no one he turned back toward the men, just as they grabbed his arms. "We got a cure for men forcing themselves on unwilling women," one of the men exclaimed. They carried the struggling boy toward the local jail. Ike looked around for his accuser, praying she'd realize her mistake. Kid's life depended on his help. Would anyone understand his signing?

Shoving the besheveled bald boy roughly into the small cell, they slammed the iron door shut as Ike picked himself up from the floor. He began signing but several of the men laughed.

"Look at that. She musta bit out his tongue. Come on boys. Let's go find the sheriff." The men filed out of the room, closing a heavy wooden door.

What could he do? He needed their help to rescue the Kid but no one paid him any attention. Would the sheriff return quickly to interrogate the falsely imprisoned visitor?

"What we got here?" An older man looked into the cell. Ike immediately signed his need for help.

"What's the matter boy? Them fellows bringed some serious charges against you. Ain't you got nothun to say for yourself?"

Ike pointed to his mouth and shook his head. How could he make the man understand him?

"Can't ya talk, boy?

Ike shook his head negatively then mimed writing on his hand.

"I ain't to good at readin' boy, I'll have to go get someone that can. Hang on." The man left the cell room. Ike waited patiently for his return but several more hours passed before anyone returned.

The warm summer sun warmed Kid's exposed flesh but the wet mud pulled his body heat. Where could Ike be? On horseback it shouldn't take this long to get back with help. He tried to lick his dry lips but his mouth was cotton. The sounds of the water rushing across the rocks increased his thirst but there was no way to get a drink . His left hand ached from gripping the tilting wagon. As the remaining cargo slipped closer to him the wagon seemed to sink deeper into the quagmire.

He shut his eyes from the burning sunlight and felt sleep tempting him. Just relax and get a few winks would make the waiting pass quicker. As sleep was gaining its hold he felt his left hand relax, the cargo shifted and the wagon pushed him deeper into the mud causing him to come back to alertness. He dare not succumb to sleep or he'd drown in the mud. They must have driven into a pool of quicksand. The more he struggled the deeper he'd sink.

His thoughts drifted to his new family. Speaking out loud to keep himself awake he pretended he was telling a stranger about the residents of the Sweetwater station. "Now Rachel, she's easy to look at. Though Lou don't like it when we watch Rachel go about her chores. We've all had our dreams about spending time with our housekeeper though none of us would really consider that. She's too much of a lady. Teaspoon's a real character. He's…"

Kid felt the wagon shift again, pushing him deeper into the muck. Mud filled his ears and covered his chin. Before panic grabbed him he was startled to see a small girl with long black braids sitting on one of the boxes he and Ike unloaded earlier. How long had she been there?

"Little girl, can you get some help? I'm trapped and need help to get out of this mud."

She smiled but didn't answer.

"I guess you don't understand me. I sure wish you did. At least I'm not alone." Talking to a real person rather than the tilting wagon helped him hold onto sanity. The sun hung on the horizon and backlit the girl still sitting on the box. What was she waiting for? Did she plan to take the supplies after he drowned? No he dare not think Ike wouldn't make it back before the mud won.

He looked back to see if she was still watching him but discovered she disappeared as quietly as she came. Though she never spoke, he missed her presence. The usually comforting sounds of the night amplified. Mosquitoes bit his exposed face and hand while bats swooped around him devouring their evening meal. Lightning bugs sparkled over the water and some other nocturnal visitor splashed at the creek's edge. Missing the sun's warming rays, he shivered as the mud and water stole more heat.

His thoughts drifted to Lou. She left him so confused. He didn't know much about women but Lou living life as a man wasn't right. He remembered their dance outside the party and the kiss that followed. What would it be like to hold her close, to touch her bare skin, to look deep into her expressive brown eyes and tell her how he really felt? Now he'd never have the chance.

Thinking about the female express rider warmed him in more ways than one. She was the bravest, strongest, stubbornest girl he'd ever known. He promised not to reveal her secret but he wished she would. Something about her personality and her warm brown eyes pulled him towards her. Those eyes, they spoke louder than any words, revealing her inner soul.

The young man had little experience with women. Sure he knew to be polite and to help them, but Lou wasn't like the other girls he'd met. She was determined to do everything herself, no matter how difficult. Water drops splashed in his eyes. Clouds blocked the moon's radiance and lightning flashed across the sky. Rain! As the drops increased and began washing the mud away from his face, his fate was sealed. Kid closed his eyes in resignation, imagining Lou in his arms and her kiss warming his soul.

Part II

Ike pounded on the thick walls and shook the iron bars. No one entered the jail the entire night. He heard the thunder and saw the flashes. Forgive me, Kid.

How could he return to Sweetwater to tell the rest what happened to the Kid? How could he tell Lou and Teaspoon how he failed to rescue their friend?

Fresh rain washed air mixed with morning smells of a wood fire filled the small cell. Ike continued sitting on the floor even as the heavy door opened.

"Well, boy, you any more ready to talk this morning?" asked the same man who visited him last night.

Ike looked up at the man, knowing he must try to communicate with this ignorant man again but expected the same response. My friend needs help, the same as he did last night.

"Sitting here all night and you still won't say nothing. What's the matter with you boy?"

The bald prisoner shook his head and pointed to his mouth. He tried to write on his hand but he doubted the man would believe him.

Another voice yelled from the front of the office. "Bruce, you in here? I heard you caught.." The man stopped in the doorway looking at the prisoner. "What cha' got Ike locked up for?"

The larger man turned to the door, "You know this dumb fellow, Jackson?"

"Yah, he's an express rider from Sweetwater, Ike McSwain."

"Can't he talk?"

At the mention of his name, Ike looked up. It was Mr. Jackson, the stationmaster of the next station. He began signing to the new man.

"Ike, I never did understand that stuff. Bruce you got any paper for Ike to write on?"

"You mean he talks with his hands? I thought he was drunk last night with all that hand flyin' around."

He returned with a pencil and paper, handing them to the young prisoner. "Sorry son. I know you asked for paper last night.

Ike grabbed the tools and began writing. Kid and me bringing supplies to your station. Wagon stuck. Kid trapped in creek. Help him. He handed the note to the express employee.

"Damn, Bruce. A man's in danger and you locked this boy up?"

"That girl said he's the one who attacked her. Then he acted all excited. How was I to know?

"Let him out and round up a rescue posse, if it ain't too late already!"

Eight men mounted and rode toward the scene of the accident, Ike riding the same draft horse he'd ridden to town the day before. He knew they would need to recover Kid's body and the supplies for the way stations but he dreaded returning to the site. Rain from the overnight storm turned the dry roadbed into a quagmire, rains that certainly raised the creek level.

"Looks like that wagon sittin' all right ta me, Mr. Jackson," said one of the men. They approached the crossing and saw the freight wagon sitting upright on the west bank, the supplies restacked in the bed. The other draft horse grazed peacefully, its harnessed hung carefully on the wagon.

"What's going on here, Ike?" the stationmaster looked at the stunned boy.

Without answering, the boy slid off his mount, looking for his friend. Someone rescued the wagon and stores but where was the Kid?

"Over here. There is someone under this tree." The men clustered around the prone figure as Ike kneeled beside his friend. Kid lay on the ground, his head wrapped with a clean cloth and his body covered with a blanket. His clothing was dry with no trace of mud or sand. What happened here?

"Kid, you hear me?" Jackson shook the Kid.

The boy moaned and half opened his swollen eyes. "Ike?"

Ike moved so the Kid could see his face and signed I'm sorry.

Kid's eyes closed and his face relaxed.

"Looks like your wagon's been repaired too. See here. This wheel was busted. And the axle been tied together with leather. Probably git as far as town but no further. Looks like you boys had more trouble then you bargained for." The sheriff looked at Ike before continuing, "Look, I'm sorry I didn't' listen to you last night. Is he hurt bad?"

Jackson replied, "Can't say, Bruce. He's not awake. Sure wish we knew what happened here. There's no way he could'a got that wagon out, busted up as it is. Why ain't his clothes wet and full of mud? Who would'a rescued him, fixed the wagon, loaded it but not brought him to town?"

The men shook their heads. No unidentifiable footprints remained in the muddy soil. Ike led his mount over to the loaded wagon and began hitching the team. Kid needed to be seen by a doctor. Standing around the creekbank won't get them back to town. He motioned to the other men to load Kid onto the wagon; it was time to get going.

"I'll ride along with you Ike, in case this wagon don't make it." Jackson offered. The rest of the men quietly remounted and rode away from the express employees. Ike drove the wagon and the stationmaster rode along beside him.

"Hopefully Doc Adams can help him. Them mosquitoes really feasted on his face. Still wonder who pulled him out. Must a been before the rains started last night. The way that creek's running, must really rained further upstream."

Ike concentrated on driving the wagon and avoiding holes. He kept looking back at his friend, who hadn't moved or made any sound since asking for him.

"Your friend will be fine. Probably have a headache for a few days. He's resting now but can't remember anything what happened," the doctor explained to Ike and Jackson.

"I suppose you need to get them supplies delivered. I'll get someone dependable from town to ride with you. We'd better round up a better wagon too."

"Kid can rest here until you get back. Couple of days and he should be ready to ride again."

Let me talk to him then I need to get going. Thanks for your help.

Ike returned two days later, supplies delivered to the remaining waystations. The blacksmith repaired the express wagon and Ike rehitched the team to it. Waiting for him at the doctor's office was an anxious Kid.

"About time you showed up. Let's go."

Not till the doc says you're ready.

"Get him out of here Ike. There's no way to tie you express boys down. Pity your poor wives someday. Course the way you're always on the go, you'll never take time to get hitched to one woman. Kid, take it easy for a few days. That bump on the head isn't anything to mess around with." The doctor walked back into his office as Kid climbed into the wagon beside Ike.

You alright?

Kid shook his head "I'm fine, Ike. I still can't figure out what happened. Last thing I remember was the rain comin. My face was already half under the mud. Figured for sure I'd drown. Next thing I remember was you shaking me and Jackson saying my name."

Somebody must seen you and pulled you and the wagon out. Nothing was missing.

They rode in silence for a while, the warm sun heating the clean, summer air. It would be good to get back to Sweetwater tomorrow. Anything would be better than riding an empty wagon.

Two weeks later Kid waited outside the barn. Rachel wouldn't let him ride but he did chores and helped with the livestock. Buck was due shortly with Ike riding out with the pouch. The handoff went smoothly and Buck dismounted slowly.

"Tough ride?"

The Kiowa looked at his bunkmate, "I've had better. Did you know anything about that girl in Pacific Springs? The one that said Ike attacked her? She's still saying he's the one, getting the town all stirred up." "I thought the sheriff and Bob Jackson took care of that."

"Still be good idea not to send Ike west for a few weeks."

"Buck, can I ask you a question? It's about something that happened out there."

"What's been bothering you, Kid? Ever since you two come back something's been on your mind."

"Sorry, I didn't know it was that obvious." The two boys laughed, rubbing down Buck's horse.

"Buck, what do you know about little people?"

"Kid, little people?" Buck looked at his friend. Was this a joke or a serious question? He knew the Kid was bothered by something ever since he and Ike returned.

"Yes, somethin' strange happened out there. Ike found me out of the water. Other than the cut on my head and the fact I was out of it, nothin' was the matter with me. The last thing I remember was the rain starting. The mud was just about covering my face. But the funniest thing was the girl sitting there."

"Kid, you ain't making any sense. What girl?"

"Before dark, a little girl showed up. She just sat there. I was afraid I was going to fall asleep so I was talking to myself. Anything I could think of. She disappeared when it got dark. She never said anything, just sat there smiling. I just thought maybe she got some help. It's fuzzy, like there were more little people, but I, well, I don't know if its real or just my mind playing tricks."

Buck breathed deeply before looking up at Kid's face. "Kid," he said shaking his head, "nobody's going to believe you. There's no such thing as little people." He did not laugh at his friend's question.

Kid sighed. "It was just a thought. I wish I knew who rescued me. I thought I was going to die that night. Someone pulled me out, cleaned me up. It don't make sense, Buck. I didn't even have any mud in my hair." He sat on the bale with his hands holding his head.

"Kid you've been given a second chance. If'n they wanted you to know about themselves, whoever they were, they would'a told you somehow."

The troubled young rider looked at his friend and said, "They did. This was in my shirt pocket. I sure didn't put it there."

He pulled a strange green stone out of his pocket. Buck examined the green piece before handing it back to his friend.

"Never seen anything like it. What did the little girl look like?"

"She weren't that big. She just sat on the box smiling at me but never saying a word. She had long dark braids, much too long for a youngster; more like a woman's." He paused reliving the event, searching for some other detail. "Why can't I remember anything else?" He looked confused.

"Kid, it don't sound like any story I've ever heard. Someone was watching out for you." He nodded toward the bunkhouse, "And now it looks like someone else is looking for you. Good luck, Kid." Buck smiled as the young rider was hugged by their friend and fellow rider, Lou.

"Teaspoon needs us all in the bunkhouse. Something about a special run coming through," she said.

"Here we go again!" Buck laughed as the trio walked toward the waiting supervisor, ready to be sent somewhere to do something beyond the call of duty to the Express.

Kid slipped the strange stone back into his pocket, another mystery to contemplate.

Note: Based on the television series "The Young Riders", created by Ed Spielman, produced by Ogiens/Kane in association with MGM/UA television. For entertainment purposes only, no infringement of copyright is intended. PLEASE LET THE AUTHOR KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT!