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Thursday, August 15, 2019

Fiction: Jaudon – An American Family (a novel) [10]

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Chapter 10. Claude

Claude woke up up the next morning in a bed at the local cat house. His head hurt, his mouth was dry as a desert, and he had the shakes. He pulled the pisspot from under the bed and threw up.
    Somehow he got dressed, but when he checked his pants for money, there wasn’t any. He pulled off a sock and removed the two twenties, wondering why no one ever thought to take his socks off. He walked to the café on the corner and had breakfast. By the third cup of coffee, he was feeling better.

    Still, as he walked to the livery stable he stumbled next to the wall of a building and fought to keep from throwing up again. After regaining his composure, he moved rapidly to get his horse. He felt as though he was going to be sick, and he wanted to be out of town when that happened.
    At the fork in the road that led to the Circle J, he dismounted and got rid of the breakfast next to a tree. The rest of the ride was done by the horse – Claude just tried to stay in the saddle.
    James heard him come in and head to his bedroom. He had hoped to have more talk sooner rather than later, but it would have to be when Claude was ready. Besides, he had a lot on his mind right then anyway. There was little he could do about that bill in Austin before his lawyer came with the papers. Until he read the bill he wasn’t even sure what he was up against.
    A knock sounded on the door and when the heavy-set housekeeper, Rosa, answered it, James heard Walker’s voice. “Send him on back here, Rosa.”
    Walker hurried into James’ office, a copy of the bill in his hand. “I heard before I left town, that it’s passed both Houses and is headed to the Governor.”
    “How many no votes did it get?”
    “Not a one from either House.”
    “How can that be? Those bastards don’t agree on anything else.” James turned to the first page.
    Walker sat without being asked. “My guess is there was a lot of money involved in that vote.”
    James finished the first page and looked up. “How long can we tie this up in the courts? These ranchers will need to grass their cattle, and if I can outlast them, they’ll be willing to cut a deal.”
    Walker was rubbing his head. “I don’t know. We can appeal all the way up, but the courts may very well make you open the free range while we are appealing.”
    James was on the fourth page. “Wait a minute. Read this part here.” He handed the page to Walker.
    Walker read it. “I don’t understand why you wanted me to read this. It says you have to provide an access through your land to the public land – we already knew that.”
    “Yes, it says ‘an’ – or one – access. It doesn’t say how large it has to be. There are three toll roads now and it’s hard to get all the cattle onto the land. Tell me if this can be done: I provide one free access. I’ll make it very narrow, which will limit the number of cattle that can pass at any given time. Then, on my existing toll roads, I’ll double the fee. Or I may just keep them closed. Will I have obeyed the law?”
    “It is something I can argue in a court of law. Legally, you have obeyed the law, but the argument will be about the spirit of the law. That we might also be able to win. In either case, they can’t make you open more accesses until it goes through all of the appeals.”
    Walker was handing the page back, but James waved his hand and gave him back the other pages. “I’ve read all I need. Keep the copy and get ready for a fight. I’m closing all the roads on b0th sides of the Guadalupe River. The one access will be at the lower Guadalupe, through Clara’s ranch.”
    Walker put the pages into his briefcase and stood up. “Will there be anything else before I go?”
    James waved his hand. “No, just have the papers ready to file. They’re going to be really pissed off.”


James was eating dinner as Claude came down the stairs. “I’m in the kitchen, Claude. Come get something to eat.”
    Claude came in and took the chair across from his father. James noticed his son looked a little pale. “Are you coming down with something? You don’t look well.”
    Claude shook his head. “I drank too much last night. I’ll be better by tomorrow.”
    James laughed. “I’m sorry you’re hurting. I’ve been there.”
    Rosa put a plate in front of Claude. He looked at the hot stew and pushed it away. “I’m sorry, I can’t eat.”
    “Why don’t you go back to bed.”
    “I’ll wait in your office. I need to talk to you about something.”
    “Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I finish my dinner.”
    James put a heaping spoon of stew in his mouth and bit down on one of its hot jalapeno peppers. He smiled as the sweat formed on his forehead. He loved Rosa’s stew.
    When James walked into his office, he found Claude slumped in a chair. “Son, maybe this talk should wait until tomorrow.”
    “No, I want to run this past you and give you time to think about it and then we can have a long talk later.”
    James was at a loss. He had been expecting a talk about Chassy, but this seemed to be something else. “Okay, Son, let’s hear what you’ve got to say.”

    Claude seemed to perk up a little. “The spring in the hills is on our property but the water runs down to the Guadalupe River and does no one any good. I can re-route that water across our ranch. We’ll be able to grow enough feed to last through the winter. We’ll be able to fatten our beef throughout the year. With the water running across our land, we’ll be able to irrigate the dry land in our southern pastures in the summer months. We won’t need the free-range grass – we’ll have so much hay we'll be able to sell it in the fall to other ranchers.” Claude took a breathe and sat back in his chair.
    James had been staring at Claude with his mouth half open. “First, what do you mean by ‘we can irrigate the land’?”
    Claude forgot that what was being taught in college had yet to reach the frontier. “It’s where you dig ditches to channel water to where it’s needed. I have the education to do this, Dad. I know how to make it work.”
    The fact that Claude had called him “Dad” wasn’t lost on James. “How much is something like this going to cost?”
    “I’m not sure. But if you think it’s a good idea, I’ll work up the figures. And get an idea as to the profit that will come from the irrigated land.”
    “I’m interested. We’ll take a ride up there tomorrow and you can show me what you’re talking about. Then you get me the figures and we’ll start to work on your project. I like the idea of being off the free range.”


Two weeks later, Claude broke ground on the main ditch coming down the hill. At the bottom of the hill, he built a holding pond. From there it was just a matter of building canals to the fields. He knew James was waiting for the talk about his mother, but he burying the subject under hard work. He did have a plan to deal with his black blood, but he couldn’t put it into words yet.
    Within two months, he was ready to block the water running to the Guadalupe and blast a new route down the hill to the holding pond. Claude had planned to dynamite the new opening, but James feared that doing so might shut off the spring and convinced Claude to get it done by hand. Claude had twenty men working on the project. Most were Mexican, but several were white farmhands looking to pick up some hard cash.
    The ditches had boards to open or close off the water. A large gate at the holding pond trapped the water there.
    They announced a grand opening to turn on the water, but hardly anyone came but the poor farmers and the Mexican workers, who were there for the free food. Clara and Sophie, Walker, and Hutchinson from the bank were the only outsiders. James would never forget the snub, nor would Claude.


Copyright © 2019 by Ed Rogers

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