King Blood(41)

Unable to get away from her, he at last ceased to try. Deciding to let her have her own way, and see what she would do with it. Which, for the moment, was nothing at all. Seemingly, he had defeated her by ceasing to resist. For she suddenly became silent, her small round face creased with puzzlement. She even allowed her horse to draw away a little, relieving him of the tantalizing pressure of her body.

So they rode for a time, with Critch silently congratulating himself yet somehow disappointed by his victory. At last he risked a glance at her, and saw that she was smiling at him archly, her head flirtatiously cocked to one side. And again she brought her horse in close to his.

'I bad girl while ago,' she said, her voice softly husky with desire. 'You paddle my ass, yes?'

'W-what? No! No, of course not!' Critch snapped. 'What's the matter with you anyway?'

Joshie replied sweetly that nothing was the matter. She had been a bad squaw, and bad squaws got spanked. 'This is so,' she declared serenely. 'It is the way it has always been.'

'Well, it's not going to be that way with me!' Critch said firmly.

'How come not?' Joshie inquired. And added brightly, 'I bet you paddle ass God damn good! Pound shit right outta me!'

'Now, God damn it -!' Critch turned on her in a fury of frustration. 'What the hell is this? Are you crazy or something? Now, stop talking like that or I'm going to be very angry with you!'

Joshie gave him a look of baffled innocence. Talkin' like what? she inquired. She talked like everyone else.

'I talk plenty God damn good,' she asserted, a trace of pique coming into her voice. 'Maybe so you talk bad.'

Critch drew a deep breath, on the point of exploding. Slowly he exhaled, getting control of himself; recognizing the justice of what she said.

'I'm sorry, Joshie,' he said. 'You do talk like everyone else here, and being a minority of one, I suppose I do seem to be wrong just as you seem to be right. But – '

'Min – Min-or-ity? What is, ol' Critch?'

'A damn fool in this case,' Critch said. 'But, look, Joshie. When I was a boy, Paw hired teachers to come to the ranch. They traveled from family to family, and every child was taught to read and write. On top of that – '

'Is still same way,' the Indian girl interposed. 'Also, boy'r girl want to go 'way to school, Old Uncle Ike he send 'em.'

'Then, you did have some schooling. At least you learned simple arithmetic and how to read and write.'

Joshie said sure she had. Same as all papooses. She had not chosen to go away to school, since rarely did anyone else so choose and she had not wished to go alone. 'Too God damn lonesome,' she pointed out cheerfully. 'I be, uh – how you say – min-or-ty.'

'Minority. But what I'm getting at is this. You've had enough education to know that nice girls don't talk like you do – '

'I nice girl!' Joshie bristled. 'I plenty God damn nice!'

'Of course, you are. An extremely nice girl,' Critch said smoothly. 'But people are liable to think that you're not nice if you use words like, well, shit and ass and – '

Joshie broke in to say that any God damn people who said she was not nice would get the shit kicked out of them. 'An' Old Uncle Ike an' Old Grandfather Tepaha an' everyone else, they do kickin'! You say, Old Uncle and Old Grandfather not nice? No one here not nice? You tell me that, huh?'

'No, of course, not. But you've been taught better, Joshie. Surely, your teachers didn't teach you such words, now, did they?'

'Ho! Because maybe so teachers God damn fools! They right, an' everyone else wrong, like hell! I tell you somethin', ol' Critch,' she continued hotly. 'Is like so. You with Apache, you by God better talk Apache. You talk Osage'r Kiowa'r Comanche, maybe so lose God damn hair.'

'Well,' sighed Critch. 'I think I see your point, but…'

He left the sentence unfinished, tried to divert the conversation to safer ground. 'What's this place up ahead here?' he nodded. 'I don't see any people around.'

Joshie said tartly that there was nothing wrong with his eyesight: he saw no people because the place was untenanted. 'Land worn out, so Old Uncle Ike say let lie fallow. That's why grass an' weeds grow all over hell. Build up land.'

'That's very interesting,' Critch said flatteringly. 'You certainly know a lot, Joshie.'

'But not know how to talk good,' Joshie said sulkily. 'Not nice girl.'

'Oh, now, look,' Critch smiled. 'That's not what I said at all.'

'Did. Say Joshie talk bad. Say Joshie bad girl.'

'But I didn't! I certainly didn't mean it, if I did! Why, I actually think you're the nicest girl I ever met.'

'But not pretty?' Imperceptibly, she reined her horse in close to his. 'You not think I pretty?'

'Why, of course, I think you're pretty,' Critch declared. 'You're an extremely pretty girl, Joshie.'

'"Stremely?" What is "stremely?"'

'It means very – very, very pretty.'