Two Sides of the Same Coin (9 page)

“Anytime, son, anytime.”

I walked down the street to One Eyed Jack’s, and a group of five tourists walked by. The two women and two of the men with them were couples. They were older, obviously retired. The other guy was a bit younger, say maybe ten years. The two women and the single guy all checked me out. I tipped my hat as I passed and said, “Afternoon folks.” I got a chorus of “good afternoons” in return. As I was about to turn into the saloon, the single guy in the group looked back; I couldn’t help myself, I winked at him. He was so surprised, he stumbled over one of the boards in the wooden sidewalk.

I stepped into the bar. It was dark inside, and the wood stove was going in the corner; I could smell beer, grease, and wood smoke. I saw Sandy and Maria in a booth on the restaurant side of the room toward the back. I walked over and sat next to Sandy.

“So you talked to the sheriff, Jeff?” Maria asked.

“Yep, so I reckon Mike’s off the hook.”

“Great! Like I said, your burger and beer are on me. I don’t think the menu’s changed since we were in high school. What’ll you have?”

“You said you weren’t workin’, Sandy.”

“I’m not, but I don’t mind puttin’ in your orders and getting you two something to drink.”

“Ladies first,” I said and smiled at Maria.

“I’ll have the chicken strips and fries and a Diet Coke.”

“How about a bacon cheeseburger for me, extra mayo, and fries, and a Mac & Jacks to drink.”

“You got it,” she said and headed to the kitchen.

“So what are you gonna do now, Maria?”

“I got the rest of the week off, and I’m staying with Sandy and her family. They said I could stay as long as I want. I’ll head back to Wenatchee and work Sunday night. I hope you don’t mind my coming out to the ranch. I can see why Pedro loved it, and it makes me happy to know he was happy there.”

“You’re welcome anytime. I got plenty of room, so if you, or you and Sandy, want to stay that’s fine.”

“Thanks, Jeff, I just might take you up on that.”

“Please do, anytime.” She smiled at me, and then Sandy arrived with my beer, one for her, and a Coke for Maria.

“Cheers!” I held out my mug. We clinked glasses.

As I took a sip of beer, Sandy asked, “So you stickin’ around, Jeff?”

“Yep, this is my home. If I can make a go of it after the incident last week, I sure will.”

“Don’t worry, Jeff. Dad will catch the murdering bastard.”

“I reckon that there has to be more than one murdering bastard.”

“Why’s that?”

“Tracks around the area where the cattle were rustled, and two different types of trailer tires.”

“You gonna keep on runnin’ cattle, or are you gonna do something else too?”

“Like what else, Sandy? I sure as hell don’t want to be an accountant.”

“No, I mean your art.”

“Yeah, I am gonna keep doin’ that. I need to talk to Mary Grace in the artists’ cooperative here in town. I got a couple of sculptures, and maybe they will exhibit them for me.”

Mary Grace was one of the first people from the outside to move into town. She first came to teach at the high school. She was my French and art teacher. She’d known about my interest in bronze castin’ since I was a kid. Now she ran the artists’ co-op in Winslett.

“Hey, Jeff?” Maria’s voice had a very tentative tone. “You ever think of maybe guiding hunters or fishermen or just tourists? I mean, everyone knows that Winslett survives by tourists. Look at all the old West buildings and decoration here. Maybe you could open a dude ranch. Pedro and I were going to go to one in Texas for our honeymoon.” She got a very sad look on her face. I reached over and patted her hand.

“Maria, I don’t know the first thing about herdin’ dudes. I wouldn’t even know where to advertise, and besides, we’d have to build cabins or something for them to stay in. That costs money, which I don’t have right now.” I used the word “dudes” in the cowboy sense. I used it to mean greenhorns or non-cowboy folk.

“You never know, you might be able to get a small business loan with all that government stimulus money going around now,” Maria stated.

“Yeah, Jeff, I’ll help you research it!” Sandy had bought into the idea, which meant it was time to change the subject.

“I hear Robert came on to Mike last night.”

“Yeah, when we came in the house to go to bed, we could hear them arguing upstairs. Robert was really yelling at Mike, first, about being a tease, then about being after you.” Sandy was never one to mince words.

“I told Mike this morning I was sorry for what happened.”

“Yeah, you did tell him he’s got a cute ass. I will say, Jeff, you do have good taste.”

“What! He told you that?”

Sandy laughed and Maria joined in. “He didn’t say a word. You said it pretty loud.”

“Okay, well, Sandy, you know I was drunk.”

“I am happy for you that you and Robert realized that you were not meant to be together.” Apparently Maria was learning plain speaking from Sandy.

“Jeff, do you run around in just your underwear as much as we hear?” Sandy was enjoying teasing me.

“It’s a guy thing, Sandy.”

“Don’t I know it; my brothers were the same way when they lived at home. I bet Mike likes it when you do it.”

“What makes you say that?” Now this was getting a bit interesting.

“Come on, Jeff, anyone can see the way he stares at you with those big cow eyes.” At Sandy’s observation Maria started laughing.

“And the way he jumped to defend you when your boyfriend was putting you down. Pedro always thought you two would be good friends.”

“Mike’s a nice guy; I enjoy his company. And I enjoy yours, Sandy and Maria.”

“I think Mike has something we just can’t give ya, Jeff.” At Sandy’s words they both started laughing.

“Give it a rest, ladies! I just broke up with my boyfriend this morning. You think it would be fair to Mike or anyone else to start sniffin’ after him now?”

“You do got a point there, Jeff. We just want to see you happy.”

“That’s right, Jeff!” Maria added.

“Well, I’ll be happy when whoever’s been rustlin’ cattle has been caught, and we have the beeves sold off for the year.”

“Jeff, let me get you another beer.”

“Thanks, Sandy.”

“So are you going to continue with your sculpture?” Maria asked.

“I was thinkin’ that maybe they would exhibit some of my work in the artists’ coop here in town. God knows we get enough tourists through here.”

“Yeah, Pedro said you had real talent. I think so, too, after seeing the bull rider sculpture you gave your dad.”

Just then Sandy returned with the beer.

“Hey, Sandy, Maria, you know if Wayne has a girl in Wenatchee?”

“We figured he must, given he disappears on his days off.” Sandy looked at me then glanced at Maria.

“Pedro and I both thought so too. Why do you ask, Jeff?”

“I just figure Wayne deserves a little happiness. I can’t imagine anyone not bein’ real happy for him, so why the secrecy?”

“And they say we women are complicated right, Maria?”

“It’s cover, Sandy, just cover.”

“Anyway, it ain’t none of my business what Wayne does on his time off. Hey, Sandy, I’d mentioned to Maria that you two are welcome up at the ranch anytime. Maybe we can all get together for another dinner or something. Having the posole in the bunkhouse last night was fun.”

“You got it, Jeff.”

“Great!” I smiled at them. “You know ladies; it sure is nice to be back here with friends. I didn’t realize just how much I missed this place until now.”

“Well, Jeff, we’re just glad you came back and are planning on staying.” Maria smiled at me and Sandy.

“Cheers to that!” And with that from Sandy, we lifted our glasses. I was done with my burger and fries. I asked what they thought of my plan for seeing if the artists’ cooperative in town would exhibit some of my castings.

“I think that’s a great idea, Jeff! With all the tourists visitin’ and newbies buyin’ land here, I bet you’d have good sales.” Sandy was always enthusiastic about new ideas.

We spent the next hour or so reliving high school, talking about the changes in Winslett, and just enjoying each other’s company. I finally had to excuse myself to head on down to the artists’ co-op. Winslett is an interesting town. It had been a mining and ranching center until the mines gave out in the 1920s. The town started losing population and was down to about ten families or so when they got the thought to develop it for tourism. A town several hours drive away had successfully remodeled itself on a little German town. Our area was a bit more desert like, so someone had the idea of an old West town. With state funds, they built board sidewalks, and false fronts to the buildings. The fact that the river runs right by town and is great for rafting, kayaking, and fishing, helped. So does the fact we are located smack in the middle of a national forest and are only a half hour’s drive from the North Cascades National Park. We have extensive cross country skiing and snowshoeing in the winter. We became a year round destination. Following the boom of the ‘90s, a large number of well to do folk from Seattle bought vacation homes around town and throughout the valley. With the influx of new people, came a good number of artists. Old West type paintings, Native American type art, and stuff made with local materials were big sellers. My bronze castings would fit right in.

I walked out of One Eyed Jack’s into the bright sunshine of the street. It was cool enough I was glad I had my jean jacket on, but the bright sun was very welcome. I could smell the dust from the street and wood smoke from the back of the hot dog grill down the street. I walked into the artists’ co-op and saw Mary Grace behind the counter. Mary Grace was a local institution. She was probably the first artist to come here to the upper valley. She’s gotta be in her mid to late fifties and was a real earth mother type. Her hair fell loose around her shoulders; it was a natural salt and pepper gray. She wore a denim shirt over an artists’ co-op T-shirt and an almost floor length denim skirt. Wool socks and Birkenstocks completed her earth mother look.

“Jeff! You’re back!” She squealed when she saw me and jumped up to give me a hug.

“Yep, Mary Grace, I had to come by here and say hello to my favorite hippie type lady.” She beamed at me. Then a somber look crossed her face.

“I am so sorry to hear about your father. He was a good man. And sorry to hear about the trouble you’ve been having at the ranch.”

“Thanks, Mary Grace. I appreciate it.”

“Have a seat, Jeff, and let me get you some coffee. You take it black don’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You just stay right there. It’ll be good for business having a handsome cowboy sitting in the gallery.” With that she scurried back to an office where there was apparently a coffee maker. She returned in a minute with a cup of coffee for me and some sort of herbal tea for herself.

“Mary Grace, how does an artist get to show his work here in the co-op?”

“Well, every artist pays dues for the rent on the space and the upkeep. Most of us volunteer about eight to sixteen hours a month to be in the gallery for the tourists and for sales. Why is that?”

“I was thinking I might want to show some of my bronze castings here if you’ll let me.”

“That would be a fantastic idea, Jeff! Your dues would come out of the first sale, but it’s a pittance compared to what you would sell your sculptures for.”

“Okay, how many would you need to show my work?”

“It would be best to have four to six sculptures. Actually, Jeff, I have an idea. We generally do a featured artist if they are having a special showing. Seeing as you’re a local boy, we could do a special exhibition on you and your art, a cowboy artist kind of thing. You never know,
Cowboys and Indians Magazine
or
Washington Highways
or
Sunset
just might drop in when your work is being shown!” I could tell she was pretty enthused about the idea.

“Just what would that mean bein’ a featured artist?”

“We would take some pictures of you and your art, and tell your story in a set of posters. We could show you working doing your sculpture. It’s a way to get you some publicity as an artist and raise awareness of your work. Do you have a website?”

“No, I’d never figured I’d need one. Should I put one together?”

“Yes! That would be wonderful. You can put a website together?”

“I don’t know if you’ve seen the ranch website, but I did that. I gotta put all that schoolin’ to work somehow.”

“That’s fantastic! Now, how many sculptures do you have?”

“I got two here, I am makin’ another; the carving for the model is done, so I just gotta wax it, and make the plaster mold then cast it, about three days work. I also got about five more works back in San Francisco that I can have sent up here.”

“So it looks like another month or so before we could realistically do an exhibition.” She looked at me questioningly.

“That sounds about right to get the sculptures here. I might be able to make one more in that time too.”

“I just had an idea! We get a great deal of tourist traffic from Thanksgiving through the New Year, and even afterwards due to all the cross-country skiers. We could do an exhibition on your work over the holidays. I seem to remember one Christmas you were home from college and went around town wearing a Santa hat on top of your cowboy hat. The tourists would love a picture of that!”

“No problem. I could give you some pictures. What else would you need?”

“We’d want to interview you, find out what your inspiration for your work is, how and when do you work, what got you interested, things like that.”

“Okay and when do you want to do this?” I asked.

“Ryan, one of our artists who does photography for us in exchange for dues will be in town tomorrow. Would it be okay if I brought him out to the ranch?”

“Sure, Mary Grace, what time were you thinkin’?”

“If it’s sunny tomorrow, about ten will be the best light. If it’s cloudy, we can come earlier; we’d call before though.”

“That’s good by me, so I guess I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“Bye, Jeff, and thanks! I am really looking forward to having you as one of our artists.”