Cowboys and er cowboys

"Cowboys and er . . . Cowboys"
Well it was Monday morning and they were already two weeks into their
great summer holiday. The endless creamy textured sunny days of
childhood expectations stretched out before them like a vast unexplored
continent. Peter was sitting perched on the ironstone church wall
across the road from his home, the tied cottage that came with his
father's job of Herdsman at Jericho Farm in the village of Oakley
tucked away in the lush green Buckinghamshire countryside. He was
playing with the silver barrelled cap pistol that was his pride and
joy, his finger itching to pull the trigger and hear the retort of the
hammer striking down on the topmost black powder dot of the blue roll
of caps he'd just loaded into his toy Colt 45. Being left handed Peter
wore his plastic 'Lone Ranger' gun belt with holster strapped to the
left side of his new blue jeans which were held up by an equally new
and much cherished elasticised snake buckle belt. Peter was ten years
old, almost two years younger than his brother William, who had just
reached the grand old age of twelve. Having just passed the Eleven
plus, William was thereby destined with the daunting prospect of going
to Grammar school in September, but that frightening prospect was way
off in the dim and distant future as he perceived on this hot summer's
morning. William was similarly attired except that his cotton shirt was
green and not blue like his brother's and his half crown plimsolls
likewise were green, he was right handed so his holster was strapped on
his right side.
On a family shopping trip to Brill last Saturday their parents had
kitted them out for the summer holidays in some of 'Woolworth's'
finery. The toy colt 45's with plastic holsters was their father's
contribution to the summer outfit along with the ration of twelve rolls
of blue caps; six rolls each, to last the full week. The next load of
ammunition would have to be bought out of their pocket money and they
would only be able to afford the cheaper less noisy green caps, so you
can understand Peter's reluctance to waste ammo now as they both waited
for their little sister Alexis to join them.
Walking down Church lane towards William and Peter was the fourth
member of their gang, a tall slender willowy figure clad in faded blue
jeans with a tear in the right knee, a matching blue blouse and black
wellies, no snake buckled belt holding the jeans up but rather a piece
of red binder twine tied with a neat bow at the front. The approaching
gang member held a small tin rifle with a popgun action capable of
firing a small acorn with accuracy up to fifty yards, giving the
unlucky target a sting on the cheek that could bring tears to the eyes,
as both boys could testify. Tears that were hard to hide in front of a
girl. Yes the fourth gang member was a girl! Eleven year old Jennifer
who tenaciously asserted her right to gang membership with the
acquisition of her older brother's tin rifle and she was also a bloody
good fighter a skill gained due to being the only girl in a family with
four antagonistic siblings.
William, who was a bit soft on her, thought these attributes were
worthy of membership. So Jennifer's place in the gang was secure unlike
little Alexis who was unequivocally foisted upon them every day by
their indefatigable mother.
"Hello Jenny, your mum let you out then?" Peter enquired as he jumped
down from his perch on the wall.
"Yes I only had to feed the chickens then she said I could go." As if
to prove her prowess with livestock Jennifer blew a couple of small
white chicken feathers from off her slim pubescent budding chest.
"Hey where did you get the guns from, they look splendid, Let me have a
look please." Peter proudly handed his colt 45 into Jennifer's hand
butt first.
"Father bought them for us when we went shopping in town on Saturday,
our summer holiday treat he said, to make up for us not being able to
go away to the Seaside this year." William answered her, slightly
miffed that it was Peter's pistol Jennifer was admiring.
Just then a little girl, with auburn hair pulled into tight pigtails
carrying a bulging brown leather school satchel on her back came out
from the side of the house opposite and bounded across the lane to the
trio.
"Hello Jennifer. She let you out then, goody." Alexis was glad that
Jennifer was there because she knew her brothers would be less
intolerant of their little sister when her mentor, was with them.
Gruffly butting in Peter said,
"Has Mum given you our packed lunch then?" Ignoring Peter Jennifer
greeted Alexis.
"Hello Alexis," then with a mischievous little nod to Alexis aimed
Peter's gun at his chest and fired off three of the blue caps. Bang!
Bang! Bang! The saltpetre explosions not only startled the boys but
also the many coal black Rooks that were contentedly perched soaking up
the sunshine on the church roof, their cacophonous squawking a sign of
deep displeasure as they took flight. Jennifer smiled impishly then
handed Peter his Colt 45 before he had a chance to protest at the waste
of precious ammunition.
All Peter could do to register protest was to tear off the little strip
of spent caps ferociously, just like the conductor on the Green bus
into Brill on Saturday had done to his father, when his father had
brazenly proffered a pound note for the family's tickets. Peter slapped
the spent strip into Jennifer's hand with the same force as the bus
conductor had officiously slapped the tickets and the precious change,
dispensed begrudgingly from his leather satchel, into his father's open
palm.
"Well," said William interrupting the stand off between his brother and
Jennifer, "where shall we go today? I mean I'm getting a bit bored with
Boarstall woods aren't you? We've been hunting for days in there with
not a sign of a deer." The children had spent several days in the
nearby wood with home made bows and arrows and Jennifer's acorn firing
rifle in the naive belief that deer still roamed in what was left of
old king Henry ll's ninety thousand acres of The Royal Forest of
Bernwood. Not surprisingly their enthusiasm had waned somewhat after
their encounter with the mangled remains of a fox caught in a
snare.
Alexis had been the first to come upon the grisly remains. The sight of
which had provoked the poor little girl into floods of tears which had
been hard for the others to stiffle as all three were so shocked by the
stark barbarity of the death. Only William had noticed that the
creature had died a slow agonising death in a futile attempt at trying
to bite off his trapped hind leg. This macabre detail he had wisely
only mentioned to his father when alone with him in the milking parlour
of Jericho farm. "We live in the countryside son, I earn a living for
us from the land obeying the rules laid down by others and there is no
place for sentiment in food production these days. But I agree with
you, that poor fox was one of God's creatures and it died an
unnecessary cruel death. So all that I can really say to you son is
value your own life and make it a good one." With tears in his eyes
William left his father to his work fitting clusters to the teats of a
Friesian cow's udder, swollen beyond capacity with tomorrow's
milk.
Not wanting to allow his memory of the dead fox to sour this glorious
day William grabbed at the first suggestion offered for their
adventure.
"We could go and play cowboys at Leatherslade farm," Alexis piped up
ingratiatingly. "No one has moved in still."
"Yes you are right little sister we could. It would make a good ranch
for us." William said brightening up as he imagined scenes of a Texas
ranch house, their Texas ranch house, being besieged by whooping Apache
Injuns circling around the adobe style buildings riding bareback on
near wild Mustang stallions firing off flaming arrows at the barricaded
wooden slatted shutters and doors behind which the four of them were
bravely defending their homestead. William himself in heroic pose at
one of the window shutters, the hot barrel of his over worked
Winchester poking though the slat, aimed at yet another ferocious
Apache brave, the smell of cordite all around him.
Jenny faithfully by his side at the next window firing her rifle with
almost the same devastation and accuracy as himself, whilst his brother
Peter, out of action lying on his back on a big pine table, an arrow
shaft sticking out of his right shoulder groaning with the pain as he
is being ministered to by his little sister Alexis who with tears
streaming down her face is tearing her beautiful silk petticoats into
bandages. Whether her tears were for the injury sustained by her
self-sacrificing brother or because of the wonton destruction of her
expensive clothing due to the absence of a first aid kit, William
wasn't sure. Knowing his little sister as he did he imagined it would
be the latter but that was a minor detail on this epic canvass that was
William's daydream created by his liberal use of John Ford's cinematic
palette.
Leatherslade farm with several rich acres of fertile agricultural land
had been empty for quite a while. The farm buildings, yard and garden
had that overgrown neglected and abandoned appearance even in the full
bloom of a sun soaked summer's day. The property had caused a hiccup in
the careers of more than one Land Agent, 'a difficult property to shift
that, bad drainage' they would declare upon the loss of yet another
prospective purchaser. But the farm's state of abandonment was what
appealed to William's cowboys. In their eyes here was an unwanted adult
possession, a meretricious grown up toy, so far from the grasp of
children, the perpetual window shoppers of life. But second best was
the moment, the here and now. By default this farm was their property
for today at least and all that their imaginations could bring to the
landscape.

With a proprietorial air they sauntered through the paddock gate, the
boys with guns drawn spread out on either flank, eyes pealed scouting
for hidden injuns behind hedges or lying low in the ditches to ambush
the returning cowhands. They had been away for a while; it had been a
long cattle drive leaving the ranch unprotected for so long. Jenny
selected a fresh little green acorn from the bulging collection in the
pocket of her jeans and dropped it down the barrel of her tin rifle.
Mindful to keep the barrel up incase the acorn rolled out she escorted
Alexis across the paddock over to the bunkhouse and the cooking area so
Alexis could prepare victuals and brew up coffee on the log fire.
Having scouted the area for injuns she left Alexis to unpack her
satchel and start preparations. Jenny was keen to get back with the
boys where the action was, she wasn't interested in girlie domestic
games, she was quite happy to leave all that to Alexis.
Alexis with the aid of her imaginary kitchen maid, the little Mexican
orphan girl Rosetta, who's parents had been tragically slaughtered in a
previous Apache raid, started to unpack her bulging satchel of
provisions whilst conducting a lively conversation with Rosetta.
"Rosetta dear, the kitchen is such a mess," remembering visions of her
own mother upon the family's return from last year's holiday at Great
Yarmouth, "could you start by mopping the floor please?"
"Yes Senora, certainly." The imaginary kitchen maid unctuously
replied.
So whilst avoiding the occasional accidental slap on the ankle from an
imaginary mop head by the careless Rosetta Alexis unpacked her summer
holiday treat from last Saturday's shopping expedition. Her parents had
bought her a complete toy dinner service. This splendid miniature
dinner set had previously only been exclusively enjoyed by her dolls
and teddies, but today she was determined that the ranch hands; her
brothers and Jennifer were going to enjoy the benefit of eating their
victuals in style with all due veneration, just like little southern
gentlemen.

"Ouch that hurt!" Peter exclaimed as yet another 'accidental' acorn
stung his cheek.
"Sorry." The quietly unrepentant ranch hand shouted out from her hiding
place, behind the old barn door. Jenny didn't like wasting valuable
acorns er ammo on imaginary targets. She rather enjoyed the response of
a victim's cry of pain, shooting at invisible apaches didn't produce
such a satisfying response. The boys at least had the explosive retort
of their caps firing and the ensuing curling wisp of gun smoke. All she
had in the way of battle effects was a little click as she pressed the
trigger of her tin rifle, the departure of the little acorn bullet
whizzing from the barrel was disappointingly silent.
"William she keeps firing at me," Peter appealed to his brother with a
pathetic little whine in his voice as he rubbed his stinging cheek.
"Make her stop."
William sighed; the battle against the renegade hunting party of injuns
wasn't going to well. There were too many injuries being sustained
under friendly fire even his face and arms weren't immune to the odd
acorn or two.
He had to admit that for a girl Jenny was a trifle trigger-happy. He
looked heavenward for inspiration; the sun high in the clear blue sky
was beaming down warm rays of golden heat, yes 'high noon'. Looking
around again at the fallen bodies of their foes and comrades, at the
remaining dark skinned figures retreating on horseback, their whoops
and hollers declaring a withdrawal for a light lunch in the
shade.
"I think we've killed enough injuns for now it must be lunchtime. Let's
go and see what sandwiches Mother prepared for us," he declared to his
wounded brother and the impish Annie Oakley.
The three exhausted and battle scared injun fighters rounded the
corner of the ranch house into the back yard where Jenny had left
Alexis earlier to her domestic imaginings.
There before them set out on an old tread worn tractor tyre were place
settings for four just like a round table banquette fit for King Arthur
and three of his most favoured knights. Around the rim of the giant
tyre were four pink plastic plates with little plastic knives and forks
either side and accompanying them little pink plastic cups and saucers.
Two other pink plates on the ground in the centre of the tyre were
piled high with what looked like marmite sandwiches on one and peanut
butter on the other, cut neatly into quarters and a full bottle of
lukewarm Tizer stood at attention between them. Alexis's little Mexican
rag doll and the old satchel lay on the ground by the tyre but not a
sign of the hostess herself was to be seen.
Peter stepped forward, his facial injury forgotten stooped and grabbed
for a marmite quarter from a laden pink plate and bit into it.
"Sissy pink plates, yuck!"
But William wasn't listening to his brother's unwarranted criticism a
knot tightened in his stomach.
"Where is she, where's Alexis got to?" William asked anxiously; he
should have kept a better eye on her. His parents would be very angry
if something had happened to his little sister. An image of the dead
fox caught in the snare filled his mind and before he could stop it the
image of the decomposing corpse changed into his little sister, her leg
trapped in the relentlessly tightening grip of the razor sharp steel
wire loop of the snare. William shivered in the bright sunlight as he
struggled against a rising tide of panic that was engulfing him.

Alexis had got bored waiting for the cowboys to triumph over the injuns
and feast upon her magnificent pink dinner service. Despite knowing
that it was forbidden she had decided to do a little exploring and see
if she could get inside the farmhouse.
"Just for a little look round." she told Rosetta.

Turning the handle of the back door and pushing hard it swung open with
the creak of a Gothic invitation. Alexis stood on the threshold
listening to the inert silence of the abandoned house, she stifled the
temptation to turn around and go back out into the sunlit day and
forget about her little illicit expedition. Stepping boldly into the
gloom of the musty kitchen she glanced around. It was difficult to see
any details with the dust coated and stained kitchen window curtains
pulled to. The lack of light gave the scene the effect of an indistinct
charcoal drawing rather than a full colour illustration. In the gloom
the little girl could just distinguish abandoned items of kitchen
furniture enough to avoid bumping into them as she hesitantly made her
way over to the far wall.
The feeling of stepping into a Teutonic Fairy tale, one from the pens
of the brothers Grimm grew within Alexis, vivid ancient tales of old
witches goblins and beastly ogres flooded her little mind. Finding
another door she turned the handle and pulled it open slightly. Alexis
peered though the gap. There was a little more diffused light in the
hallway showing a stained and rubbish strewn wooden floor, to the right
bare wooden stairs and on the left another door presumably leading into
the sitting room. Just as Alexis stepped fawn like into the hallway and
turned towards the stairs there was the sound of creaking wood and to
her horror a section of the floor before her terrified eyes lifted up.
Alexis was transfixed, bathed in lurid yellow light emanating from the
opening in the floor, tendrils of blue grey wispy smoke shimmered
menacingly towards her. The hissing yellow globe of light seemed to
levitate its self higher in the air. Alexis was on the verge of
screaming when a gruff accusing voice spoke.

"We must find her." William almost shouted in anguish at his younger
brother who seemed only to have one thought in mind, food. Jenny put
her hand on William's shoulder to calm him.
"She can't have gone far don't worry we'll find her," she said
reassuringly. "We'll split up and search the farm for her."
"No! We'll stick together, don't want to lose anyone else." William
blurted out giving Peter a meaningful look. Having to grapple with a
real drama possibly turning into a crisis the twelve-year-old boy was
feeling the strain of responsibility. This was no imaginary heroic game
of cowboys and injuns.
This was serious his little sister was missing and ever since a young
girl, Pauline Reade had gone missing in Manchester a few weeks ago his
father was forever warning him to be aware of the big bad wolves in the
world and look after his brother and little sister. So they started
their search calling out Alexis's name as they went.

Alexis was sitting comfortably on one of several bulging sacks in the
cellar below the farmhouse surrounded by her new friends, musing on how
Snow White must have felt upon first meeting with her dwarves. The
atmosphere was cloyingly warm with the tang of paraffin fumes from the
four hurricane lamps that seemed to produce more heat than
illumination. Tobacco smoke wafted about the dusty windowless room on
pillars of spiralling air from the interminable smoking of uncorked
cigarettes by most of the ten men who occupied the claustrophobic
cellar. One of the men at the instigation of the boss, Mr Reynolds had
wedged the trap door open a few inches with a block of wood out of
consideration for the little girl's lungs. Everything had seemed a bit
strange at first to Alexis. Why were these men camped out in the cellar
of this big house with only a portable transistor radio tuned to the
Light Programme and a Monopoly board and a small camping gas ring
surrounded by stacks of bulging sacks some used as seats and couches
for the men, all living in the cellar of this farmhouse. And where did
they get all this money?
But when that nice Mr Reynolds explained to her that they were proper
cowboys from the great U.S. of A. returned to this country to start up
a cowboy ranch at Leatherslade farm, just like the one they had worked
on in Texas. Oh all the money, that was all their wages and savings to
buy the farm and stock it with good beef cattle soon to be flown over
from the states and to buy some furniture for the bunkhouse er. . .
farm house which was why all of them were living in the cellar and it
was safer to look after all their money down here they hadn't had time
to go to the bank yet and anyway the Land Agent was calling tomorrow to
be paid for the sale of the farm. Also aeroplanes full of cattle would
be landing in the paddock the next day and the pilots would want
payment for the cattle as well. It had all been a bit a rush but Mr
Reynolds assured Alexis that there was method in their madness. See,
simple really when you have it all explained so clearly by that nice Mr
Reynolds. And when Buster and Ronnie had invited her to stay for a
while and play Monopoly with them and with REAL money how could a girl
refuse. So what if Jimmy appearing through the trapdoor with his
hurricane lamp and had scared her half to death. At least now Alexis
could relax contentedly in the company of, well maybe not dwarves but
real cowboys anyway.
"Rent!" She cried out to her mate Buster as he moved his little flat
iron to 'Old Kent Road'. "With a hotel that will be ?250 please."
"Cheap at twice the price little one," he said with a flourish as he
handed Alexis a crumpled fistful of fifty-pound notes. "Keep the change
as a tip for such excellent hotel service my dear!" Mr Reynolds's
cowboys chuckled in appreciation at Buster's generosity as he leaned
back on his mail sack seat.

The trio had exhausted all possibilities of finding Alexis outside on
the farm. William was becoming more agitated by the minute, Alexis was
his responsibility and he wasn't looking forward to confessing that
he'd lost her to his Father.
"She has to be somewhere, but where?" he said pleadingly. Then Jenny
had a moment of inspiration, which William immediately clung to
gratefully.
"Perhaps she tried to get in the house?" Yes that's it William thought
the only place left to search.
After trying the locked front door the children were relieved when the
back door did open as William turned the old grimy brass handle. They
hesitated a moment on the threshold then quietly stepped into the
gloomy kitchen, Peter entering last with his Colt 45 drawn. Silently
they tiptoed in single file across the kitchen to the open door leading
to the hallway. They stepped into the hallway and paused to consider
their next move when Jenny noticed the propped up trapdoor hatch and
nudged William in the back with the barrel of her tin rifle pointing to
the opening. On hands and knees across wooden floorboards the children
crawled to reach the trapdoor and hesitantly peered down. They gasped
in astonishment at the scene that greeted their eyes.
There she was, the little madam after all their worrying about her,
sitting there enjoying a game of Monopoly with these men. William was
about to call down to her then hesitated as the thought stuck him. What
were these men doing down in the cellar with all those sacks of money?
They seemed friendly enough towards his little sister, she didn't seem
to be in any immediate danger but William had an inert sense that all
was not right down there in that hole in the ground.
He gestured to the other two to return to the kitchen for a pow wow.
Before William could voice his concern for Alexis's predicament Peter
burst out.
"They're Bank robbers, I just know it did you see all that money in
there?"
"Shhh! I think you're right Peter, what do you think Jenny?"
"They've got to be with so much money and it's all in Post Office mail
sacks, we've got to get your sister out without them knowing about
us."
"You're right, Alexis is too young to understand that is too much money
down there for people to have got honestly. They must have told her a
tale or two."
" She seems happy enough playing Monopoly with all that real money."
Peter chipped in with a note of envy in his whisper thinking of the
meagre pocket money their father gave them each week. William raising
the question again asked.
" But how do we get her out of there?"
" I know wait here I'll get her, but be ready to run for it when I
bring her." Jenny answered and before either of the boys could do or
say anything she was off. They looked at each other sheepishly, they
had let a girl go and face real danger after all their Peacock
strutting heroic role-playing battles against imaginary injuns. Peter
feeling ashamed reholstered his toy cap pistol and pensively
asked,
"Do you think she can do it?"
"Course she can bro, she's Jenny!" William answered with more optimism
than he felt.
Jenny entered the hallway silently approaching the propped open
hatchway with only the slenderest tendril of an idea how to get Alexis
out of the robbers' den. Crouching down at the trapdoor she could see
Alexis surrounded by her fellow Monopoly players all engrossed in the
game. Carefully selecting an acorn from her pocket she dropped it down
the barrel of the tin rifle and taking her time she took aim. Ping! The
acorn catapulted down the barrel flew through the smoky air of the
cellar and landed in Alexis's lap. The little girl noticing the
projectile for what it was looked up at the open hatchway and saw the
agitated face of Jenny glaring at her with a finger to her lips and
frantically beckoning for Alexis to come out.
The penny dropped, as if waking from an enchanted spell the little girl
realizing that she shouldn't be here with these strange men said to the
gathering.
"It's been very nice playing with you Buster, Ronnie, Mr Reynolds, all
of you. You've made me so welcome but it's getting late my mother will
be worried about me. I'd better go now. Thank you for having me."
The atmosphere in the cellar changed instantly to a cold chill, Little
Red Riding Hood was about to notice what big teeth Grandmother
had.
Jenny watching from above held her breath waiting for a reaction to
this announcement, as did all the men down below hostile looks were
exchanged. Oblivious to the static charge of menace in the air Alexis
stood up and placed the dice cup on the Monopoly board and held her
hand out to Mr Reynolds. Every eye in the confined space of the cellar
was upon him, he hesitated a moment then gripped her little hand lifted
it to his lips and in true Clark Gable fashion kissed her hand.
"Well little Lady it's been a pleasure to have you visit us, all the
boys have enjoyed your company you are a fine Monopoly player. You
mustn't keep your mother waiting hope you will come again sometime.
Buster will show you out, won't you Buster?"
There was an audible sigh of relief all round at this majestic
pronouncement and with a final excessive flourish Mr Reynolds picked up
a banknote from a handy stack and gave it to the little girl.

"It's alright they are letting her go, come on let's hide outside and
wait for her." Jenny exclaimed as she flew through the kitchen and out
the backdoor closely followed by the astonished boys.
They watched from behind a hedgerow on the lane as Alexis and Buster
Edwards walked round the side of the house, Alexis clasping her hastily
packed satchel full of her toy dinner set, squashed sandwiches and her
rag doll, Rosetta the Mexican serving girl. Buster watched and waved to
the little girl as she strolled across the paddock to the gateway to
join her crouching brothers and Jenny.
"Oh there you are, did you have a nice time playing Cowboys and Injuns?
I've been playing Monopoly with REAL cowboys!" and with an air of
sophistication that belied her years she added "And they were such
gentlemen." Holding up the banknote she added, "Look what they gave
me." With a mixture of relief, exasperation and envy the boys and Jenny
listened to Alexis's endless chatter about her afternoon in the company
of real cowboys as they walked down the lane to the village and
home.
Back at Leatherslade ranch hasty preparations were being made to ride
off into the sunset!

"This is the B.B.C. Home Service and here is the nine o'clock news.
Police searching for the armed robbers who five days ago held up a
Glasgow to London bound train stealing two and a half million pounds
have announced that due to information received from a local herdsman
in Oakley, a village near Brill, has lead to the discovery of the
gang's hideout, Leatherslade farm where fingerprints and other evidence
were uncovered. Police are expecting early arrests . . ."
Copyright 2002 davyferguson.