THE SAGA OF EMMIE-LOY, PART 2
By James R. von Feldt
All rights reserved
We left off with Garfield Laugenslater in a terrible mess down in Harry Nation and even though his bruises were mostly his own doing, things were getting worse by the minute. The deal was this: Garfield was heading for the altar -- bridegroom to Emmie-Loy or if he somehow could get out of town and back home, he would be publicly embarrassed at the election for County Supervisor which included part of Harry Nation. It is a no-win situation, to say the least.
We last saw Garfield in the reception line tipping the cup of hospitality on Frenchie’s porch and things are getting fuzzier and fuzzier by the minute as the sips of moon-shine added up. Meanwhile, Emmie-Loy is ferociously putting together a trusoe; that is, all the frilly things women put together in a box right before the wedding night.
That is when it happened – some twenty or so of the McCallister clan, who by the way had not been invited to the festivities on purpose, came riding up to the house shooting their guns in the air. They were not there to celebrate nuptials. They were there to get even with the Hatfields, especially Frenchie, who had led his clan east over into McCallister’s area early last spring when Frenchie’s supplies of hootch ran out. Frenchie and a company of good old boys just rode up and loaded several barrels of hootch, the good stuff too, straight into their wagons while the menfolk were out spring plowing. And all that without even a “Good Day To Ya”.
Well, payback time is here.
McCallister’s had word of Garfield, the miracle husband-to-be of Emmie-Loy, Frenchie’s oldest daughter, and figured this was perfect “get even”.
They got the clan together and rode hard over to Frenchie’s without a definite plan but with the intent to do something. So here they are, guns firing, everybody running every which way, and the clueless Garfield sitting on a box on the porch, wide-eyed and fuzzy-headed from all the excitement.
That’s when two of the McCallister’s decided to kidnap Garfield. They quick like, jumped from their horses grabbed him by the arm, and tried to get him on one of the horses which didn’t work because he was so short and fat
Next, the pair simply mounted their horses, and each one grabbing a hand with Garfield between the horses started riding out of town. They lifted Garfield off his feet and proceeded east as fast as they could, which was not very fast as he contributed dead weight between the horses.
Meanwhile, Emmie-loy who was not fooled for a minute by the distracting noise and commotion ran to the window just in time to see Garfield carried off and disappear into the darkness down the trail past the clearing.
In a split second, she went from marital bliss and nuptial excitement into a deep violent rage.
In three steps she had grabbed up Frenchie’s 30-30 rifle, a box of shells, a skinning knife, and a sack of jerky which happened to be by the back door.
Three steps, big ones, remember Emmie-Loy is over six feet tall, skinny and nothing but muscle which turned mean as a wild dog; from moon-eyed wedded bliss to flash-eyed ferocious killer dog, just like that, and out the back door.
Since the celebration was in progress all the invited participants who showed up on horseback had put up their mounts, meaning they took the saddles and bridles off if they had any and put the steeds out in the corral.
For an instance, Emmie-Loy considered a horse then being of clear mind and full of venom she decided to pursue on foot as it would take precious time to catch one of the horses in the corral. Besides that, she was known to outrun all the boys in the area. Her physical endurance was legendary.
The dust had not settled on the trail and now Emmie-Loy was in hot pursuit in the moonlight.
Emmie had been known to out-pull a mule on a plow back when the horse disease struck and the horses were down during plowing season. Well, the folks that could, pulled the plows and Emmie-Loy showed her strength and endurance in that crisis. And now, the crisis of all crisis was upon her and she was meeting it one adrenalin-filled step at a time which began to overtake the marauders.
Back at Frenchie’s, it took a while for the people to come out from under the porch, behind the bushes, and from the woods by the creek. Eventually, they figured out that Garfield had been kidnapped but, in the excitement, did not miss Emmie-Loy.
Frenchie, being of clear mind sized up the situation and set out a plan to get Garfield back. He found a half barrel of hootch and two empty barrels he had filled with water. The men loaded the wagon and eight riders went with him to barter back Garfield if they could find him.
So after about an hour or so they set out following the tracks east through the woods by a full moon. Meanwhile, Emmie-Loy was within eye sight of the marauders.
At first, her plan was to slit throats and shoot every single one of them. Then, she figured that Garfield could possibly be made a shield for two or three thus losing the battle. So, another plan began to form in her mind which was clicking away like a computer.
Emmie figured they would have to stop soon because the horses were getting tired, the excitement was gone, and they would want to survey their prize.
Sure-nuf, the run slowed to a walk and when they got to a big clearing they stopped and put their heads together as to what to do next. Curiosity got the best of them, and they dismounted which would prove to be a dastardly mistake. They all gathered around Garfield in the moonlight making disparaging remarks as they poked his big belly and taunted him to a fight, man style - which he refused to do. With all this attention to Garfield, no one noticed Emmie-Loy creeping into the clearing. No one noticed the horses slapped and sent off into the woods
As the fun was starting, Big Joe McCully the fierce fighter and recognized leader of the bunch - who had kicked the butts of every other McCallister - felt a sharp knife at his throat and his arm twisted behind him, about to break. His worst nightmare; a maniacal Emmie-Loy had him and was about to butcher him like a hog.
More about this later... got to go feed the chickens.
Well, that’s it for now.
From where the corn grows tall, and pigs fly.
Take care.
All my love,
Grampa Jim