There's an old saying, "It's an ill wind that blows no good."
Call was sitting on his bench with his hat pulled down low over his eyes. To the casual observer it looked as though he was sleeping. Nothing could have been further from the truth. Call was deep in thought. There was trouble brewing; he could feel it. Something was happening in Curtis Wells. It made him very uncomfortable.
A couple of Twyla's girls walking by on the boardwalk stopped, looked at him and giggled behind their hands. Just then Amanda came out of the Dove, glanced in the direction of the "sleeping" Call and marched herself over to the sheriff's office.
"Austin, you gotta do something."
Austin looked up from the wanted posters piled high on his desk. "What is it, Amanda?" he asked somewhat tiredly. Apprehending criminals was a big job, but somebody had to do it.
"Has it escaped your attention that Call has missed his annual bath?"
Austin wrinkled up his nose. "Nope, but what d'ya want me to do about it?"
"Well, you could make him wash; you are the law in this town."
"That's right, I am. Can't do nothin' about Call, though. A man's grime is a personal thing."
"Well, maybe your father could talk to him."
"I'll mention it to him. If he has any influence over Call, he's the only one in this town who does. Even Mosby steers clear of him."
"Well, somebody better do something. I had to kick him out of his room again."
Austin followed Amanda out of his office. He watched her appreciatively as she sashayed back to the hotel. Then he turned his gaze on Call. Call raised the brim of his hat, and the two men glared at one another for a few moments. Then both went back to their previous occupations.
~~~
Call was sitting alone at the Dove having dinner that evening when Josiah came in. The older man had a confused but determined look on his face. He spotted Call and wasted no time in joining him.
Josiah looked at Call intently. Call squirmed in his seat. He could sense a lecture coming on.
Josiah got right to the point.
"There's something I've been meaning to say to you, Newt. Son, like the good book says, cleanliness is next to Godliness. You could do with a good soak."
"What of it? It's none o' your bizness, Josiah. Anyways, Enona's comin' t' town, and I don't wanna be cleaner 'n she is."
"What does she have to do with this? You'll at least think about it, won't you, Newt? Promise me you'll think about what I said."
"Mosby send you t' talk t' me?"
Josiah nodded. "I'm the mayor."
Call had heard enough. He stood abruptly and stomped out.
Josiah sighed as he watched him go. Things were ripe for change.
The next day he called an emergency meeting of the town council.
Col. Clay Mosby opened the discussion. "It has come to my attention that of late our Mr. Call has become even more of a problem than he usually is."
Dr. Cleese added his two cents worth. "He's influencing other people. UnBob didn't bathe this month, and I even saw a smudge on Mattie's cheek the other day. Why, Mr. Creel hasn't sold a clean shirt in 6 weeks!"
Austin was next. "Amanda says the hotel is nearly empty on account o' him."
"The hotel is always nearly empty, Austin," Mosby said.
"Yeah, but now we get to blame Call for it."
"I'll take that under advisement," Clay drawled.
Josiah spoke up. "The point is, Gentlemen, what do you think we ought to do about it?"
Austin chimed in again. "Well whatever we do, we're gonna have a fight on our hands. Call ain't gonna take this lyin' down. I think we're gonna have t' hit him over the head first."
Things started to get out of hand as everyone came up with ideas of how best to render Call unconscious.
Mosby quickly tired of the discussion. "Oh, for cryin' in the mud! I'm not gonna have him smellin' up my town. Get Root over here. The man owes me a favor. I'm makin' him sheriff next season."
"Hey, what about me?" Austin whined. Mosby silenced him with a look. Austin knew that being a lackey meant doing as you were told. But he didn't like it.
"Keep an eye on Call," Mosby warned. "If he gets wind o' what's up in this town, there'll be hell t' pay for all of us. Do I make myself clear?"
No one saw Unbob lurking outside the door. He had heard it all.
~~~
The next morning UnBob spilled the beans to Call.
"They say you gotta take a bath, Call."
"That so?"
"Everybody's talkin' 'bout it. They say you're dirtier 'n my pigs. Whatcha gonna do, Call? Ya cain't fight the whole town. Ya gotta do somethin'."
"Frankly, UnBob, I don't give a damn."
Just then they saw Amanda coming toward them on the boardwalk. As she passed by she glared at Call, pulled a perfumed hankie out of her pretentious bosom, and held it to her nose.
Call gave her a hostile look and stalked off, his spurs clanking in the dusty street.
~~~
That afternoon Call was leaning back in a chair in Mattie's shop. He was feeling playful.
"Mattie, ...that yer real name?"
"Yes it is, Call," Mattie responded.
"Not Matilda?"
"It's Mattie."
"Newt, is that your real name?"
"Yep."
"Not short for Newton?"
Call shot her a hard look. Mattie was glad he couldn't see her smiling behind the showcase.
"You know, Call, Unbob says they're gonna try to make you clean yourself up a little."
The gritty cowboy looked at her through narrowed eyes.
"I'd buy me a ticket to that show," he said.
"Call, . . . . you oughta think about what's good for the town. It's like Mosby says . . ."
"Listen, I don't care what Mosby says. Don't you go quotin' him t' me," Call growled. Then he stomped off to his bench to brood.
Call sulked. It had been hard to stay dirty lately, what with the dry spell and all. And now they wanted to take it all away from him. "Why does everyone seem hell-bent on ruinin' my life? What's a man gotta do t'git peace in this town?" he asked himself morosely.
~~~
Luther bided his time. He knew his way around Call. You just had to catch him between surly moments. That evening he joined Call for a tall cool one at the Ambrosia Club.
He waited for just the right time.
"C'mon, Call," he said, finishing his beer. "Let's have us some fun. I got a surprise for ya over at Twyla's."
"That so?"
Call was suspicious. Luther was famous for his practical jokes. He remembered the time Luther had convinced Amanda that he had Rabies. He'd had to eat all of his meals outside for a week and she'd kicked him out of his room so he'd had to sleep in the livery. And he'd be hard-pressed to forget the time Luther had told Chief Black Cloud that Call wanted to marry his daughter, Goose Feather. He'd had to ignore the girl for three days before she finally went back home. And then there was the time he had tipped over the outhouse with Call in it. The man was twisted; there was no doubt about it.
Call thought for a few minutes: then he decided to go along. After all, Luther was a friend, one of the few he had in this one-horse town. He tipped back the last of his beer and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
"Awright, I got nothin' better t' do. Let's go," he said and followed Luther across the street.
Over at Twyla, s the girls welcomed them with open arms. They surrounded Call and divested him of his crusty garments before the dirty cowboy could even protest. Twyla swept back a curtain, and the giggling girls pushed Call into the next room and deposited him in a steaming tub of water. They began to scrub him enthusiastically.
"My, my . . . what all you girls been sayin' about Call IS true," Twyla said admiringly. She gathered up Call's clothes and gave them to Luther. "Get these over to the laundry on the double," she ordered.
At first Call fought hard. But he was outnumbered. Finally he settled back and relaxed under their ministrations. By the time his clothes came back, he felt like a new man.
~~~
The next day Enona rode into town. Call spotted her from his bench and headed over to the livery. Enona was just dismounting when he arrived. He looked her over approvingly. Trail dust clung to her hat and clothing. He noted that she still had a feather in her matted hair. She was definitely dirty and disheveled, just the way he liked her. He took a step toward her, and she looked at him expectantly. But then she wrinkled up her nose and backed away.
"What's with you, Call, there's something different about you; you smell funny." She eyed him suspiciously. Then her eyes narrowed. "I know what's wrong . . . you're CLEAN! I kin even see the color o' your hair!" She brushed past him and headed out without another word. Call pondered the situation while he tended to her horse. He'd been afraid this would happen.
Later that day he saw her with Luther heading into the livery. He strode toward them.
"Now I know why you were in cahoots with 'em, Luther. It was so's you could steal my woman!"
Luther and Enona laughed and disappeared up the ladder to the loft. Call cursed the day soap and water had touched his skin. He raised his fist in the air. "As God is my witness, I'll never be clean again!"
Just then there was a clap of thunder. The sky turned dark, and it began to rain. The streets of Curtis Wells immediately turned to knee-deep, boot-sucking mud.
Call brightened at the sight. After all . . . tomorrow was another day.
The End
4/01
