Martha's Quick End

Fifty miles west of Cody, Wyoming, Aylish Kelley sat atop of old Martha Bee as the two lumbered toward knob hill. A brisk afternoon wind funneled through the surrounding peaks of the Rattlesnake, Cedar, and Heart mountain ranges. Aylish and her longtime companion moved towards the rugged canyons outlining the Shoshone River. She focused ahead and breathed in deep unveiling a content smile on her weathered face. Bending forward, she patted the horse’s neck. Her movements flowed in perfect rhythm with old Martha Bee, as she and the animal had a unique understanding of each other’s frailties.

From behind, a long, thick trail of dust streaked towards them like a wick of dynamite burning fast and heading straight to an explosive conclusion. Within seconds, a red Ford slowed to a trickle alongside her.

“Shiloh, darling, if I’ve told yah once, now I’ll be chewing dust all day. And poor Martha Bee’s eyes will be irritated for sure.”

“Sorry Grammy, I didn’t think it would catch up so darn thick.”

Rolling slowly along in unison, Aylish’s granddaughters’ arm was outstretched from the truck’s window, waving frantically, yet futilely, to clear away the dust. Slowly, the truck began veering slightly left. Martha Bee was the first to notice as she veered off onto the road’s shoulder, avoiding the moving truck.

Shiloh quickly pulled her hand inside the cab and took firm hold of the steering wheel, righting it. “Sorry.”

Aylish had raised Shiloh like a child of her own, after the death of Shiloh’s mother.

“Just watch where you’re steering that contraption, or Martha Bee and I will never live to enjoy our twilight years.”

“If you’d be inclined to stop for a spell, I wouldn’t be in fear of hittin’ the two of yah.”

Aylish, now in a huff, brought her chin up and peered directly down the road. “State your business girl, so you can get gettin’.”

Shiloh coughed, clearing the dust from her throat. “Grammy, you know why I’m here. You know better. The doc told you no more ridin’.”

Pulling a canteen from her saddle bag, Aylish handed it over. “Shiloh, darling, if I did everything the doc said, I’d be doing nothing but sittin’ and waitin’ for the reaper. And what would Martha Bee do all day long but stand in the barn and get fat eatin’ hay. Old gals like us need a walk now and again, otherwise we’ll stiffen-up. If no one else sees fit to ride this gentle soul then, I guess, the pleasure falls upon the old bag-o’-bones on top of her.”

Martha Bee paid the truck no mind. She kept a slow even stride as she moseyed down the edge of the road.

“Oh, hell,” Shiloh grumbled. She pressed on the truck’s brake and tipped the canteen to her mouth. After taking a short swig, she let off the clutch and pressed gently on the gas pedal.

“What was that you said?” Aylish asked as she tilted her head ever so slightly as to hide her smile.

“Nothin’… but… what if you were to fall off and break something? You’d be lying on the ground for days before someone would pass by and find yah?” She reached out and handed the canteen back over.

“Oh poppycock, you’d come looking as soon as you saw my empty plate at supper. Of course, I’d probably be ripe for burying by then.”

“Grammy! I swear you can be as stubborn as a mule. Now stop, so I can give yah a lift back.”

“Tell me you’re not barking orders to the matriarch of this family. Are you now?”

“No Grammy. There is no disrespect intended. But… I just don’t want anything bad to happen to yah.”

“Oh, horse manure! If I told yah once, then I’ve told yah a hundred times. I’ll be fine for as long as yah need me to. So, enough of yer silliness. You know, being stubborn is just one of my qualities. I can’t change it and don’t rightly think I’d choose to. It’s served me well. Someone once told me that I should never consider changing my ways. Best advice I ever got. And I’ve made it a point to follow it to-the-letter. Just you pay mind Shiloh, peas rarely separate on the plate.”

“And what’s your meaning?”

“Just that stubborn people like us stick together that’s all.”

Shiloh, frowned. “Grammy, I’m beggin’, stop now.”

“And what of Martha Bee?”

“She knows her way home better than you and me?”

“You make a point, you do, but decent people don’t abandon friends on the side of the road. Anyways, she enjoys listening to me and me her.”

“You been talking to yer horse now have yah?”

“No, can’t say I have, but she can hear my bones crackin’ and popping. So, she knows to be gentle and I can hear her breathing hard, so I know not to push her.”

“May I ask you two old gals where yer headin’ then?”

“I figure you just did, and that’s none of yer mind. You just get Justice and start roundin’-up about a hundred head. They’ll be needing them in Cheyenne soon enough.”

“Did they send word?”

“No, but they will.”

Shiloh nodded. “So, your mind is set then?”

Aylish, still facing forward, nodded.

“When can I be expecting yah?”

“You just tell Margaret to make some of her tortillas and beans for supper and I’ll be there soon enough.”

“If its the ones with peppers, I believe she calls them fi-heat-as.”

“That’s them. But this time, tell her to leave the heat out of ‘um. Last time, they damn-near burned a hole all the way to my toes.”

“Then why do you want her to make ‘um again?”

“Because they are delicious is why, and the way she mashes up those beans saves on the chewin’ and keeps me goin’.”

“Goin’s not your problem. It’s you not stayin’ put that’s giving everyone heartburn.”

Aylish tugged the reins and Martha Bee plodded to a stop. “Does that include you?”

Shiloh pressed her foot softly on the brake and looked up at Aylish, swallowing hard. “No, I… I just worry is all.”

“Darling, you know I won’t last forever. If I did, you wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of me. Dust to dust and there’s no avoiding it. Don’t you see, I’ve already been luckier than most. Yah just need to stop lettin’ life and death worry yah so. And yah need to grab that Justice and take him for a roll in the sack. Nothin’ cures melancholia like some love makin’”

“Grammy, I swear.”

“Go on and let me do as I do now. You are long past needing me and I’m far too old to be told. Go on now and turn that dust devil around. You got better things to be doin’.”

“Grammy, promise me, promise that you’ll be home for supper.” Shiloh’s forehead wrinkled with worry.

“I will do my best my little hen, but eventually all eggs gotta crack.” Aylish gave Martha Bee a slight nudge with her heels and the horse continued.

Shiloh shifted the Ford into reverse with a loud grind and backed up, turning the wheel sharp, then driving forward, then back, wedging the truck in the opposite direction, before driving away.

Aylish could hear the faint sound of a voice cursing in the distance. As Oh, hell… lingered in the air, she patted Martha Bee’s neck and spoke softly, “And we thought our gears were grinding.”

A few miles further, Aylish nudged Martha Bee off the road and onto a narrow trail. The trail was barely visible and hidden beneath knee-high scrub brush. The two slowly climbed higher onto a gradual knoll and sliced through a small stand of pine trees. As they reached the hill’s plateau, Aylish pulled back slightly on Martha Bee’s reins and the horse stilled. Aylish, pushed back in the saddle, lifting, and bending one of her legs over the top of the horn, before she slowly slid downward. She placed her boots squarely on top of a tree stump, one she had discovered years ago and had used many times. Stiff from the ride, she hobbled back and forth, rubbing her back and buttocks for a moment; until she stood as straight as she could and stretched her arms out towards the sky. She then placed both hands on her hips and flapped her elbows somewhat like a chicken.

“Baulk, baulk, baulk,” she cackled loudly.

Martha Bee counted to three with her front hoof, striking the ground with three small thuds and then looked back with one wide eye. Aylish slapped one knee and grinned.

“Aren’t we a sight? Just two old clowns livin’ in the American west. What will God ole mighty think of next? Hold steady my friend.”

Unfastening the leather strap that held Martha’s bridle, the bit escaped from the horse’s mouth and fell to the ground. She then reached down alongside the stump and ripped out a handful of tall, tender grass and held it up to her friend, who gratefully began pulling at it and chewing it. Aylish slid her empty palm up, then down, across the horse’s forehead, and ended the stroke with a soft pat.

“Enjoy your picnic, I’ll be back.”

She walked through the pine until she reached a shiny piece of petrified wood that lay neatly at the foot of one of the largest of trees. It was there that she slowly knelt and lifted the corner of the stone-hard wood and pushed it to the side.

Taking a large knife out of a leather sheath which hung from the side of her belt, she began to dig. Within a moment’s time, the knife hit its target. She slid it back into her pocket and reached down and continued digging the rich blackened earth out with her hands. Aylish grabbed two fists-full of soil. She paused, then brought her full fists to her face to breathe in the earth’s mossy odor, before letting it slip out between her fingers.

“Rich soil indeed, Dah. Good for planting potatoes.”

Wiping the remaining soil away from the top of a rusty old flour tin, she gingerly pulled it from its hiding spot.

After struggling a bit to open the lid, she tipped the can over and emptied a dusty velvet pouch onto the ground. She then picked it up and pulled apart the strings that tied it to reveal a small heavily embellished marble tea pot. A Pekinese dog adorned the top of the pot, sitting proudly, exquisitely surrounded by coins which also wrapped around the pot’s base. Aylish sighed deeply upon seeing the pot.

Through quivering lips, she prayed softly aloud, “Lord, I’m starting to think I’ve gotten away with it. Yah, I know that you know, and I thank you. I’ve been selfishly hiding this away for far too long a-time now, thinking I just might need to use it again, but I see there’s no longer any need. If yah can see it in your heart to allow me some peace now, I’d be grateful. Tell me that you haven’t been punishing me for keeping it. Cuz… I’ve been feeling it more and more. I know I should have got rid of it sooner, but what they would have done to me if-in they knew, if anyone knew. Insurance is what it was, yah see. So, I’m here to get rid of it now. Better now while I can, rather than later. I don’t mean to be soundin’ bossy yah see. But I’m starting to feel my callin’. Hell, it’s even paining me to chew tobacco. Sorry ‘bout the Hell part.”

Aylish opened the pot’s lid and tipped it over to pour out its contents onto the ground. But just then, a strong gust of wind blew the fine grayish powder, back towards her. A poisonous fog filled the air, causing her to choke. It was the same batch that she had used to kill her husband nearly thirty years ago. Sadly, the grayish cloud continued moving through the air and didn’t rest until it landed on the grass where Martha Bee lingered.

The End