Free E.L. Doctorow by Welcome to Hard Times Page B

brother Isaac. He’s a doubtin’ man, he’s looking all around for the General Store.”
    Of course, looking closer I saw it couldn’t have beenEzra: this fellow wasn’t as tall, nor did he have as much of a stoop in his shoulders. He was younger, fairer-skinned. But he had that same sad-eyed long beagle’s face. “Well you sure fooled me,” I said. Molly went off with a short laugh and I took the man for a walk over to the spot where Ezra’s store had been. I told him what had happened.
    He shook his head and looked at the ground: “He shouldn’t a run off knowin’ I was comin’—it ain’t like Ezra. Wrote a letter to him six months ago. Wrote it down plain as day!”
    “Well now, Mr. Maple once a letter is west of the States it might light down anywhere. I never saw Ezra get a letter, likely it never even reached him.”
    He took a big curved pipe from his pocket, filled it and lighted it with a box match. He puffed and frowned and stared at the dusty rubble and shook his head: “It don’t seem right at all.”
    I could understand his feelings. A man doesn’t go West for nothing. He’d been traveling four or five weeks, by train, by steamer, by stage, thinking all the while to find his brother when he got here. And probably to make a life.
    “‘Come along when ye can.’ Those were his words to me when he left.”
    “That so?”
    “‘Come along when ye can, there’s room out there fer two.’”
    “That’s true enough.”
    “I wrote out a letter when Ma died sayin’ I had only to sell the store and then I’d come. Jes the pair of us, seemed like we ought to try our fortune together. Andnow here I be”—he took a good look around—“and Ezra ain’t, and it’s a bad bargain I made.”
    “Well now, Mr. Maple I don’t know. The water don’t flow from the rocks and the game don’t nibble at your back door. But the place has what they call possibilities.”
    He gave me a sharp, trader’s look. “Well I haven’t seen a tree in seven days.”
    “That’s what they mean: look at all the possible trees could grow if they’d a mind to.”
    He didn’t laugh but I had his attention away from Ezra for the moment. I walked him back to the well.
    “I’d like you to taste this water,” I said. “It’s as good as any and better than most. Dip into that pail and refresh yourself. Help you to think clear on what to do.”
    At that moment I had no plan in my mind. But when I walked over to the stage and looked at the freight standing on the ground I had some forward-thinking thoughts. These were the store supplies Ezra Maple had ordered. There was a barrel of flour, a barrel of beef in brine, sacks of coffee, cartons of tinned sardines, crackers—a whole lot of stuff.
    Molly came up at my back: “Mayor,” she said softly, “I know what you’re fixing to do, but I’ll tell you we don’t need another Ezra Maple here. Let this man go look for his brother and may he find him in Hell.”
    I said nothing but went back to Zar’s. Alfs hat was on the table, Mae was sitting on his lap and Jessie was standing in back of him holding his ears, and they all three were laughing.
    “Blue!” Alf called throwing his head back. “I begin tosee your way of thinking’, there sure is a spirit of life hereabouts, yes sir, a spirit of life!”
    “Alright then Alf supposing we talk business.”
    Zar brought over a lamp and put it on the table. Alf excused himself to the ladies and while they stood watching he took some bills out of his pouch and spread them on the table. They were bills of transit for the goods outside and they were all marked paid.
    “It adds to forty dollars Blue.”
    “Bot the stamp is there,” Zar said examining the bills, “these goods are already paid. He wants us to pay again!”
    “Tha’s right,” said Alf. “This provender was for Ezra Maple and Ezra ain’t here. Course if you like I’ll load it back on and be on my way.”
    “Zar,” I said, “it’s a fair price for