MIRROR OF A MAN

by Anna

© 2004

Prologue

"Teaspoon, you have a letter!" Cody called out when he had passed the pouch to Ike. Teaspoon walked up to the rider, his hands on his suspenders.
"I'm right here, Cody, there's no need to shout," he stated. "What have you've done to your horse, boy?" he muttered and let his hand touch the sweaty flank of the horse. Cody slipped to the ground, tired and stunned from the hard ride.
"Well, the man said it was important. He said it was from the prison director of St. Joseph. I figured…" He held out the letter.
Teaspoon tried not to show his emotions as he reached for the letter. "Well, remember this Cody, no letter to me is so important that you're allowed to ruin a horse. Now get that horse washed down."

When Cody turned to carry out the order, Teaspoon looked down on the letter. How long had it been? 15 years? 15 years since he had attended the trial that sent his younger brother to jail. The director had promised to get in touch with him should anything change. Teaspoon pushed the letter into his pocket and walked back to his shed. Closing the door behind him he sat down on his bunk. And began to think back on the events that finally had lead to him receiving this letter.

Outside Big Spring, Texas, 1828

He quickly packed the few belongings he had owned. It wasn't much, but at least it was his. He pondered for a second if he should grab a second shirt but decided against it. His younger siblings could use it. He could always find himself a new one. He tip-toed silently through the cabin. The loud snoring of his father filled the room and he frowned in disgust. He had arrived home drunk again, taking out his anger on his fifteen-year-old son, the same son who finally had enough. He would not stay in the house for another second. He was sure there was a better life waiting for him somewhere. He turned to look at his sleeping siblings. They were so young and so far his father hadn't done anything to hurt them. Aloysius hoped things would remain that way as he sneaked out of the cabin. In a few minutes he had saddled his father's horse and was on his way. He vowed never to look back. And he almost managed to do that.

Outside Big Spring, Texas, 1841

He'd sworn he would never return. But here he was, twelve years later, staring at the ruin of what once was his home - the place he grew up. If Polly's father hadn't received that message, or rather, if Polly hadn't run out on him, he would never had returned. As it was now, he had no choice. He had to try and save what little family he had left. He turned around his horse and headed for town, ignoring the two graves barely visible on the land.

He didn't stop until he reached the sheriff's office. A tough and weathered man looked at him when he entered. "What can I do for you, son?" he asked slowly, looking the younger man over, noting the way his gun hang for an easy reach.
"I believe you have my brother locked up," Aloysius replied and handed him the message sent to Polly's father. The sheriff stood up and with one hand resting on his gun he looked at the letter. "This letter was sent to the marshal of Dodge," he stated suspiciously.
Aloysius nodded. "I worked for him."
"Worked?"
Aloysius shrugged. "I'm here on my own. Marshal Doyle has nothing to do with me being here."
The sheriff shrugged. "So you're Logan Hunter's brother. What's your name?"
"Aloysius Hunter, but most people know me as Teaspoon."
The sheriff frowned. "I seem to remember you - you're the oldest of the brother. You left a long time ago."
Teaspoon shrugged. It wasn't anybody's business what he had done and not done. "Can I see my brother?"
"Of course you can see him. I'm just not taking any chances, so leave you gun here."
"What exactly did my brother do?" Teaspoon asked as he handed over his gun.
"Beat up one of the whores and when the owner tried to stop him, he almost beat him to death with his gun."

It had taken Teaspoon the better part of a day and a letter of recommendation from Polly's father to convince the sheriff and the judge to let him take his brother with him. The success had finally come when he promised to leave the state never to return - at least not his brother. On their way out of town he looked at the dirty, and badly clothed eighteen-year-old by his side. He'd been only six when Teaspoon left and so far the boy hadn't said a word after he had introduced himself as his older brother. Now Teaspoon couldn't stand the silence anymore.
"What happened Logan?"
The boy looked at him with hatred.
"Why do you care, older brother? You left didn't you?"
"I left because I had to," Teaspoon replied shortly, not wanting to be remembered of his past.
His brother laughed without joy at the statement. "Something you'd rather forget, brother? The way you cowardly stole Pa's horse and left us to his mercy?"
Guilt seeped into Teaspoon's soul. "Did he.? He didn't finish the question.
"What do you think?" Logan turned in the saddle to face his brother. "That he would give up his way just because you were gone? He put us through hell, but I guess you couldn't care less!"
"I'm sorry, I had no idea."
"Yeah, it was hard to figure out," Logan snorted and returned to silence.

Somewhere on the edge of the Great Plains, Kansas, 1842

Winter was coming. Teaspoon could feel it in the air. He turned to look at his companion. "This will have to be our last trip," he announced. "Winter's coming."
"Winter?" Logan looked up into the sky and shrugged. "Whatever you say, big brother. Can't imagine what difference it would make, unless you agree we could endure this winter in a decent town than in that hut you insist calling home."
"No." Teaspoon turned ahead again, remembering with a bitter heart how he had tried to help and understand his little brother. The bitterness and hatred he first had encountered getting him out of jail had remained, despite Teaspoon's efforts to help Logan see pass it. Every time they had stopped in a town, looking for a job and a roof over their heads, Logan had managed to get in trouble. It was more luck than anything else that had kept them out of jail. Finally Teaspoon had decided that the best way was to keep to themselves and in one year they had managed to do well, They had traded and hunted for fur on the plains and in the mountains. It was a lonely job, but until he knew what was haunting his brother he had no other choice. He knew what drove him anyway. Guilt. He shouldn't have left his younger siblings to at the mercy of their father's anger. If he hadn't left, then everything would have been different.
"No. Well, that might be all right for you, Teaspoon, but I'll be darned if I spent another three months in that cabin with you. A man got needs you know."
"Needs?" Teaspoon spat. "What needs, Logan? Getting drunk, fighting and whoring? Those needs?"
Logan smiled wickedly. "A woman would be nice. And I ain't talking about any dirty squaw like that Sioux woman you seem to prefer. I'm talking 'bout nice, white, women, ready to do."
Teaspoon was off his horse in a second and pulled his brother of the horse. Logan hit the ground with a large thud.
"Don't you dare speak about White Feather like that," he growled, but Logan just continued to taunt him.
"What this? You care for her?" He laughed harshly as he got to his feet. Teaspoon watched him closely, his hands turned into hard fists. Logan searched his face and looked at him with a surprised look.
"You're thinking about marrying her," he stated with surprise. "You're thinking about marrying a dirty Injun - a savage." He shook his head. "I never thought you were clever, but being this stupid..."
"I care about her - which is more than you can say," Teaspoon retorted tired as he returned to his horse. He was tired of fighting with his brother. "You don't know how to care."
"And whose fault is that?" The bitterness in Logan's voice was clear. "For God's sake, Teaspoon, all I ask is that we spend a few nights in town."
Teaspoon closed his eyes for a second. "We'll see," he said. "Let's just do this trade and we'll see."
"That's more like it," Logan nodded. "Where are we headed?"
"There's a Kiowa camp not far from here. We could get us enough buffalo hides for the profit to last us until February."
"Then what are we waiting for?"
"You - will - wait - here." Teaspoon bit off each word. "I'll do the trading, understood? The Kiowa don't take easy on insults or disrespects."

***

He had done well. The Kiowa had been reluctant at first, but thanks to the necklace given to him by Standing Bear, he had been able to show them what he wanted to trade for. Teaspoon had always placed an honor in not fooling the people he dealt with and this time he knew the Kiowa would not disagree. The pots were probably to heavy to carry when moving, but would be invaluable when winter came. As for the hides he had received, they were excellent and would fetch a good price. The Kiowa was known for the quality of the skins, but few traders dared approach them, as they also had a reputation for being fighters. Teaspoon was one of the few willing to take the risk, no such much of his own choice, but since his brother forced him to spend more time on the plains, leaving him with only a few tribes to trade with.

Sometimes he pondered sending his brother on his way, but the guilt stopped him. It had only been two years. Maybe one day Logan would change, maybe one day he would be able to see pass the hatred. Teaspoon sighed. Despite his younger brother's fault, he still was his young brother. He could still remember things from their childhood, how Logan had followed him around, looking up to him - part of what now made him feel guilty. Maybe he was wrong, he pondered on his way back to the camp. Maybe it would be all right to spend a few nights in a town. Logan had been doing fine for some time now. He was so occupied, he didn't notice he had reached the camp. Dismounting he looked around. The camp looked deserted.
"Logan!" he called out. He tied the horse and the pack mule to the same tree as Logan's horse. Since the horse still was there, Logan couldn't be far away.
"Logan!!" he called again. A half choked scream from not far away, set him into a run. He stopped when he reached a small clearing. Logan was getting to his feet, buttoning up his pants. On the ground beneath him was a Indian woman, crouching and hiding her face. Teaspoon could see the bruises on her arms and legs and felt his knees go weak with fear. Anger surged in him and with it the power to move returned.
"What have you done?"
Logan looked at him and smirked. "What do you mean? I found myself a woman, brother, and I must admit that your own preferences doesn't strike me as so odd anymore." He didn't see Teaspoon's fist until it hit him in the face and threw him to the ground.
"Get the horses," he growled. "Now! If the Kiowa finds us here, they won't be satisfied with just killing us."
A hint of fear showed in Logan's eyes and in the next second he stumbled to his feet and headed towards the camp. Teaspoon kneeled by the woman, who now was watching him with tear-filled and scared eyes. Her face was bruised and dirty. Teaspoon looked at her and wished with all his heart he could take away the pain and fear he saw there.
"I'm sorry," he whispered not knowing if she understood him. He reached for the blanket laying on the ground not far from her and carefully placed it over her. "I'm sorry," he whispered again. "Your people will find you." With her face fore ever itched in his memory, he then turned from the place and joined his brother.

***

"Well, big brother, looks like we made it," Logan laughed two days later. Teaspoon had used every trick he knew of to throw the Kiowa off their tracks and it did look like they had managed to get away. Without a word, he dismounted and took a sip from his water canteen. Then he turned to his saddlebags. They had been forced to leave the pack mule behind them at their hasty departure. Teaspoon pulled out a package wrapped in leather and removed the leather. It was all of their savings. He removed a few bills and placed them back in the saddle bag. He turned around and presented the rest to Logan.
"Here," he said.
Logan stared at him in disbelief. "What's this?"
"Money. Here take it."
"That's almost all of our savings." Logan looked suspiciously at him.
"Yes."
"Why do you want me to have it?"
"Because I'm leaving you. Here and now."
Logan snorted. "You can't leave me - you owe me."
"Not any more, Logan. I can't do this any more. I help you get away from the Kiowa, but I'm not protecting you any more."
"Where are you going?"
"Standing Bear offered me a place to stay."
"You're going back to them filthy Injuns? Teaspoon, with this money we could be treated like kings."
"Then you go ahead and do that. You're on your own, Logan." Teaspoon mounted his horse and turned one last time to face his brother. "I might regret this one day, but it's my decision."
He slammed his heels into the horse and headed off, his brother's words echoing in his ears. "You won't last without me, Teaspoon! You need me!"

The jail in Gallatin, Missouri, 1845

"I know you would show up, Teaspoon. You better tell them this is all a big mistake." Logan smiled at Teaspoon from the inside of the cell, his hands gripping tightly around the bars.
"You killed a man, Logan." Teaspoon replied wearily. He had not wanted to come here, but when he realized his brother might be hanged, guilt had once more forced his way.
"It was self-defence."
"Shooting a man in the back ain't self-defence, Logan."
Logan paled and stared at Teaspoon with fear in his eyes. He leaned forward. "You've got to help me," he pleaded. "Teaspoon, you know I didn't mean it - he was cheating in cards and I just got angry. You can explain it to them."
Teaspoon shook his head. "No, I can't. You did this Logan, and you have to face the responsibility for it."
Anger showed in Logan's face. "Well, if you ain't here to save me, then what are you here for?"
"I don't know," Teaspoon replied sadly. "Maybe I was hoping for a miracle. I've always cared for you Logan. You've always been my brother." Teaspoon reached out to touch his brother's hand, but Logan pulled it away.
"I'm sorry." It seemed to Teaspoon that those words would forever be tied to his younger brother.
"You can't leave me here," Logan bellowed after him. "You can't - this is all your fault!"

The Pony Express Station outside Sweetwater, 1860

"It's all your fault!" The words echoed through Teaspoon's mind as he opened the letter. Logan had escaped the hanging simply because the man he had killed had been a notorious cheater. But he had been sentenced to jail for twenty years. This letter would either tell Teaspoon of an early release due to good behaviour or of his death. Teaspoon was not sure which he preferred. If his brother had been released, then the worry would return, as well as the hope that maybe he had changed for the better. Well there was a lot of 'ifs' involved. With trembling hands he unfolded the single piece of paper. The director was not a man of many words. His message was short and stated simply that Teaspoon's brother had died in a fight with another prisoner. The director sent his condolences and that was it. Logan Hunter no longer existed in this world. Teaspoon took a shivering breath. Logan was dead. He had not wished it upon his younger brother, but he was not surprised. Logan's way had been that of violence and no matter what others would say, Teaspoon felt guilty. He had done some bad things in his life, he had seen death too many times and he had seen what people could do to each other. But this guilt, the guilt of leaving his six-year-old brother to fend for himself with an abusive father, this guilt he could not rid himself of. He didn't know for how long he sat there, when there was a knock on the door.
"Teaspoon?"
”I'm here." He folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope when the door opened and Buck peaked inside. "Emma told me to tell you supper's ready."
"Thank you, Buck, I'll just be a second."
Buck looked at the tired face of the stationmaster. "Something wrong, Teaspoon?"
Teaspoon looked up at the young halfblood and smiled wearily. "No, nothing's wrong. Nothing that can't be fixed anyway."
Buck nodded and left, leaving Teaspoon to his own thinking. Teaspoon watched after the boy and placed the letter in the small box where he kept his keepsakes and memories. Unknowingly fate had offered him a chance to make things right. He wasn't sure when he had realized it, or when he had began to believe it. It was one of those things that slowly grow on you. A certain way of moving a hand, an expression, moments when there was simply no mistakes. He could see all of them in the young boy's face. His mother, his brother and sometimes even himself. But most of all he saw her face. The woman crouching on the ground, scared half to death and in pain. He had never forgotten her face but he had never expected to see it again. At least not her face mirrored in her son. Buck had confessed to him he wasn't sure when he was born except it was in the early autumn. Teaspoon could have told him which year. He could have told him that the habit he had of drumming his finger on the table when nervous was something they shared and that it came from Teaspoon’s mother. Logan had died and was beyond any help Teaspoon might have been able to offer. But he could right his wrong by making sure his brother's son had a better life. He would do anything to help Buck, and by that he could lift the burden of his own shoulders. He rose and headed towards the bunkhouse for supper. It was only one thing that saddened him and that was that Buck would never know he had an uncle.

THE END

Send feedback!