It was just after noon on a pleasant Sunday, Turk approached the side door of the closed Star Dust Saloon, he knew someone was always around and especially on this day, a certain young miss would be waiting for his arrival (well, he hoped). He had a cane pole in hand, purchased at the general store the other day, it had the necessary line and hook too, he himself dug up some worms now inside an old bean can have filled with dirt. He himself had not been fishing for a long time but in his youth he was good at it. So he was optimistic they could catch something.
Besides, to him the fish weren't the important thing, young Sally was. Yes, he knew he was a good deal older than the young woman, that most folks thought her a bit slow of mind but she was friendly and kind. It made him feel good to give her some happiness as she had a hard life.
Church services were over so she certainly should be ready to go take the hike over to the river outside of town. He now gave the door a good three knocks and waited.
Mrs McMahon opened the door.
"Why Mister Flagg, do come on in here!! Lawd, lawd, look at you at you with your fishin' pole and all" she beamed. She had been worried that the man, after his initial feelings of pity for the girl, might have thought better of it, and have stood poor simple Sally up. Well, that was how this odd friendship looked from her point of view.
"Now, Sally'll be down in just a second - she wanted to wear her Sund'y best what she had on at church, and her best bonnet, but I says 'lil' Sal, you just go on up and put your workaday smock on, knowin' you, you're likely to fall in that big ol' river or get covered in mud at least, and you don't wanna go ruinin' the only good dress you got!'... now, here's a nice picnic made up all ready... and a bottle of lemonade I brewed myself... and... oh, here she come now!"
There was a rapid thumping overhead of Miss Cutts running down the stairs and she came careering into the kitchen.
"Oh, you came, you came!!" beamed the noodle headed girl.
"Why, course he came!" Mammy McMahon laughed, hiding her own previous uncertainties on the matter.
"And I definitely don't need no chap-prone like them ladies at Church said?" she asked the black woman.
Mammy just chuckled. "Lawd, lawd, child, you don't wanna listen to them old biddies like Mrs Miggins an' Mrs Wigfall - do you really think a proper growed up gen'lman like Mr Flagg here'd be interested in a silly half-grow'd girl like you... romantickally?!"
"Oh no, I never thought of that: of course not!" laughed Sally "That'd be silly!"
"Well there you go... now off you both go, and you just mind to do everything that Mr Flagg tells you to, un'erstand!?"
"Yes Ma'am, Yes Sir" she smiled compliantly, grabbing the picnic. "Well, bye!!"
Why Mister Flagg, do come on in here!! Lawd, lawd, look at you at you with your fishin' pole and all" it was the negro cook, not surprising really. beamed.
"Afternoon, Mesalina, don't mind if Ido," he stepped in with a smile.
"Not sure if Sally told you but I'm supposed to teach her how to fish," he quickly explained the fishing pole.
"Now, Sally'll be down in just a second - she wanted to wear her Sund'y best what she had on at church, and her best bonnet, but I says 'lil' Sal, you just go on up and put your workaday smock on, knowin' you, you're likely to fall in that big ol' river or get covered in mud at least, and you don't wanna go ruinin' the only good dress you got!'... now, here's a nice picnic made up all ready... and a bottle of lemonade I brewed myself... and... oh, here she come now!"
Ahh, so the woman did know. Sally had told her all about it. He was glad Mesalina talked the girl out of wearing her Sunday best. A muddy river bank was not the place to be wearing one's best clothing. He himself didn't really even own any such thing, not being the church going sort.
"Let's hope she don't fall in but don't worry, I know how to swim. Our farm was near a river when I was a boy," he assured her.
And preceeded by some clomping, Sally suddenly appeared all eager as can be.
"Oh, you came, you came!!" beamed the noodle headed girl.
"That was our arrangement," Turk nodded.
"Why, course he came!" Mammy McMahon laughed, hiding her own previous uncertainties on the matter.
"And I definitely don't need no chap-prone like them ladies at Church said?" Sally asked the black woman.
Mammy just chuckled. "Lawd, lawd, child, you don't wanna listen to them old biddies like Mrs Miggins an' Mrs Wigfall - do you really think a proper growed up gen'lman like Mr Flagg here'd be interested in a silly half-grow'd girl like you... romantickally?!"
While what the cook said was basically true, he was a gentleman and she was young. But for some sudden reason the negro's words annoyed him.Sally was no child, who she went around with should be her choice.
"Oh no, I never thought of that: of course not!" laughed Sally "That'd be silly!"
Turk forced a smile, "That's right. This is just a fishing trip. We're just friends is all."
Mesalina told Sally to do what he said for her to do then handed the girl the picnic basket. A few quick goodbyes and they were back outside and commencing the considerable walk to the river outside of Kalispell.
"You are looking very nice today, Sally. Did you have a good church service?" he no sooner said that but it came out rather strange even to him. Nerves.
"I dug us up some worms...for the fish to eat," he showed her a small tin can formerly holding beans now bait.
"You are looking very nice today, Sally. Did you have a good church service?" he no sooner said that but it came out rather strange even to him. Nerves.
"Oh sure" Sally replied blithely, the compliment going right over her head and not finding the question odd in the slightest "Miss Mudd always livens it up, shouting things from the Harmonium, like 'Testify!' and 'Amen' and 'You're tellin' them the truth, brother Gideon!" and that sort of thing whenever Pastor Evans is getting a little dull; she says that's how they do it down South at the Camp Meetings, and when she takes the collection plate around at the end, she makes all sorts of funny comments when rich people don't put much in. I suppose she hadn't oughta, but it does make me laugh." she smiled happily. "Pastor Evans is such a nice man, miss Mudd says he didn't mind at all about her appearing all naked and all on the stage pretending to be Eve last week; then again, she's the only one who knows how to operate the harmonium, so he couldn't really kick her outta the congregation" she rattled on.
"I dug us up some worms...for the fish to eat," he showed her a small tin can formerly holding beans now bait.
"Ewww!" Sally recoiled at the idea as they walked along "Does that mean that when I eat the fish, I'll be eatin' worms too? Hope they ain't still a-wigglin' and a-wrigglin'!"
They were heading toward the fringes of the little town and an elderly couple coming the other way greeted them, the old man raising his hat.
"Hello Mister Truscott, hello Mrs Truscott! We're going fishing!" Sally announced proudly.
The old lady beamed.
"Isn't that nice, Henry" the old lady said to the man as they passed.
"Not many fathers would take their daughters out fishing like that on a Sunday afternoon! My daddy would never..."
The woman's voice faded and there was an awkward silence for a second, then Sally thrust her arm through Cabot's in a comforting manner and said brightly "Huh, she must need glasses, you ain't that old Mister Flagg. It's just that beard makes you look sorta Grandfatherly. And no one ever thinks I'm nineteen to look at. And anyhow, people don't have to be the same age to be friends, do they?"
When they passed by the couple, Cabot duly nodded to them, "Good day." Not that he had a clue who they were nor did he actually care. In truth he was an outsider really in Kalispell, he'd actually been a loner since the war, didn't matter where he'd been. He lived a solitary life with only himself for company. Mostly it suited him.
He now heard the couple talking before the two pairs got out of earshot. Yes, it was true, he probably was old enough to be Sally's father though he would have had to have been in his teens had that been true. Well, he wasn't going to let it bother him. Let people think what they may. He was enjoying Sally's company. She'd had a tough life, in many ways still did. He just wanted to give her a bit of happiness.
Then Sally thrust her arm through Cabot's in a comforting manner and said brightly "Huh, she must need glasses, you ain't that old Mister Flagg. It's just that beard makes you look sorta Grandfatherly. And no one ever thinks I'm nineteen to look at. And anyhow, people don't have to be the same age to be friends, do they?"
"Well, I certainly am older than you, Sally. And I wear this here beard because of the war. It covers up.......well somewhat, what that musket ball did to me. But life goes on," he replied.
"Nineteen, eh. You do look younger but then it's always harder to tell ages on females. Especially the pretty ones..........like Caroline....and you."
"Let's go down this street and then we go mostly straight and we will run into the river eventually. Well......not exactly INTO the river but up to the bank," he joked.
"Well, I certainly am older than you, Sally. And I wear this here beard because of the war. It covers up.......well somewhat, what that musket ball did to me. But life goes on," he replied.
Sally stole a shy glance at Mr Flagg’s face. She knew where on his face he meant; she’d noticed it before - his wispy beard wasn’t that good at covering the mutilation. She didn’t say anything: she might not be the brightest prototype bulb in Mr Edison’s Laboratory, but she did possess at least a little native emotional intelligence.
"Nineteen, eh. You do look younger but then it's always harder to tell ages on females. Especially the pretty ones..........like Caroline....and you."
Sally giggled. “You’re makin’ fun of me, now.” If so, she seemed to be enjoying it.
"Let's go down this street and then we go mostly straight and we will run into the river eventually. Well......not exactly INTO the river but up to the bank," he joked.
She laughed again. He wasn’t really funny funny, but listening to this man who seemed deep, dark even, attempting to be light and airy with her, it deserved her polite chuckles. She had a feeling like she’d had that night in the saloon when he had very professionally punched out Mr Miller, that there was more than just a gentlemanly concern for a helpless young woman, or the kind of paternal protection Mr Flandry felt for her… could he actually be… interested in her?
Maybe not because she was anything special, but perhaps because he was just lonely; and she was, well, there.
And if he was interested in her, was she in any way interested in him. It made her dizzy to think about it.
“Someone told me you was a bounty hunter once” she suddenly blurted. “Jane Patterson Forde told me. Her uncle’s a outlaw, so I guess she’d know” she added, somewhat inconsequentially.
Turk threw her a compliment. Women liked compliments.
Sally giggled.“You’re makin’ fun of me, now.”
"I most certainly am not. I would never make fun of you, Sally," he assured her.
As they exited the alleyway and struck out into the open toward the river a healthy walk further, Sally had a question for him.
“Someone told me you was a bounty hunter once” she suddenly blurted. “Jane Patterson Forde told me. Her uncle’s a outlaw, so I guess she’d know” she added.
He thought on then slowly nodded, "Well, yes, I was. For quite some time too. After the war I ...I wasn't sure that farmin' held any appeal any more, I was a different person. And Ma had died during the war. So I didn't go back. Had to do something for money and I knew guns by then and shooting people. I can't ever say I liked it...the bounty hunting but I couldn't come up within anything better."
"If I decide I don't wanna stay here in Kalispell, I might go back to it. But it's a hard life," he confided in her.
"I most certainly am not. I would never make fun of you, Sally," he assured her.
"Well, you can a little, if you like" she laughed, looking up at him "I ain't made o' glass!"
She asked, rather forwardly about his bounty hunter past and she listened spellbound as he told her of his past. But it was the next part that inexplicably scared her.
"If I decide I don't wanna stay here in Kalispell, I might go back to it. But it's a hard life," he confided in her.
"If you...? W... why would you wanna leave...? You... you could get a good job here I'm sure and... and settle down maybe!" she heard herself saying, quite urgently.
"Well, you can a little, if you like" she laughed, looking up at him "I ain't made o' glass!"
"Oh I know I can and nope, I am quite aware you not made of glass," Turk smiled.
She asked so he answered about his past life and his recent arrival in Kalispell. But he let drop that he still was not certain about staying in the community and settling down or not. He'd spent so many years wandering, it was hard to find a place where he might actually fit in. He needed stronger reasons than his cow hand job.
"If you...? W... why would you wanna leave...? You... you could get a good job here I'm sure and... and settle down maybe!" she heard herself saying, quite urgently.
"I did not say I want to leave. But if I were to make this a permanent home, I'd have to have good reason or reasons to, don't you understand? I have nothing to keep me here...jobs I can always get elsewhere. And also I have no one who gives me a purpose here, I am a loner. Not by choice mind you but ...it is just the reality of it is all," he came as near as he could admit, he was a lonely man, used to it but not happy about it.
"I did not say I want to leave. But if I were to make this a permanent home, I'd have to have good reason or reasons to, don't you understand? I have nothing to keep me here...jobs I can always get elsewhere. And also I have no one who gives me a purpose here, I am a loner. Not by choice mind you but ...it is just the reality of it is all," he came as near as he could admit, he was lonely man, used to it but not happy about it.
"You should find someone who gives you purpose!" she suggested brightly "There' plenty of pretty single women here, Mr Flagg."
She started to list eligible woman off, counting them on her fingers.
"Let's think: there's Miss Lutz... erm... oooh, Miss Straub, I mean, she's meant to be walking out with Mr Gibbs, but he's kinda slow, you could steal her away easily, Miss Chappel, she's kinda your age, you know, and she'd be real pretty if she put on a dress, Miss Albrecht at the Store... phew, when you think on it, there's so many to chose from. I'd avoid Tully Nevada, she's a kinda a wildcat, and steer clear of the Patterson Forde girls for obvious reasons!" she concluded, but she could have gone on for much longer: Kalispell was chock full of spinsters.
