The Arizona Kid by Ronald Koertge

Author:Ronald Koertge [Koertge, Ronald]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2016-01-08T05:00:00+00:00

Tucson advertised about four hundred sunny days a year, but the next Saturday wasn’t one of them, and I felt like the weather looked. It seemed to get to everybody — everybody except Moon’s Medicine, who was playing around with Chicken Little and generally feeling chipper. After all, she didn’t know she’d lost by a nose; she’d run her heart out.

Lew and I just clammed up and did our work while I kept an eye out for Cara Mae, as usual. I seemed to always wonder when Cara would turn up and how she’d feel when she did. One thing about her: I would never get tired of the same old thing. She was just as liable to ride away in the middle of a conversation as she was to suddenly throw her arms around my neck. I liked her, though. I liked her a lot. And for all I know I liked her partly because she was so impulsive, even though that worried me sometimes. I’d never known a girl like her before, that’s for sure.

“Hey,” said Lew as I was finishing up with some tack. “What do these bozos want?”

Fletcher and Grif were bearing down on us, and Fletcher — the slick one — was grinning in that cruel way he had where only half his mouth moved.

“Bring out that gray,” he said to me.

”What for?”

“Because she’s mine now.”

“Take a hike,” Lew suggested.

“Fine, okay. We'll do it the hard way.” He turned to his buddy. “Stay here and keep an eye on our horse. I’ll be right back.”

Lew and I glanced at each other, then at Grif. The guy was huge. He looked like an armadillo on steroids. His arms couldn’t even hang down normally. On his right bicep was the classic Mom tattoo. Hard to believe he had a mother. He seemed like the type who’d just crawled out of the swamp and started eating trees.

“You scumbag,” said Lew.

Grif didn’t move. He just stood there behind those mirrored sunglasses.

“Taking somebody’s horse right out from under him.” Lew took a couple of steps so he was right in his face. “You big pile of shit.”

Nothing. It was like taunting a house.

Lew looked over at me. “What does Fletcher do, wind this moron up every morning . . . ?”

He never got to finish. Grif just let him have it, not even a punch, but an openhanded slap that sent Lew sprawling.

“Now you’re really gonna get it,” said Lew, jumping to his feet. When he put his head down and charged, I did, too. Lew got his arms partway around Grif’s waist and I grabbed an arm. Since neither of us died immediately, I thought we were doing okay, but the next thing I knew I was airborne. He’d tossed me like a newspaper. He had Lew’s head in his other hand. I didn’t know whether he was going to crush it or bowl it.

“Stop it!” Jack shouted. “That’s enough!”

Lew and I picked ourselves up warily. He looked a little pale, so I must have been white as milk.

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