a Sweetwater Saga short story
KC skipped across the ranch yard toward the resonating sound of axe striking wood. Scooting around the corner of the large barn, she scrambled up a wood pile claiming a spot at the top.
“Don' think yer momma would take kindly ta ya bein' up there,” Stanley Branson told his granddaughter as he added a couple of recently split pieces to the pile.
“It okay, Grumps,” KC replied. “I likes to climb… Momma says ‘be careful' and I do.”
“Does she know you climb up there?” Stanley asked swinging his axe down to split another section of sawed tree trunk.
Tilting her head to the side, KC considered the query. The wood pile was unsteady and hard to climb— which is why she liked to do it. Deciding it best not to answer the question, she changed the subject. “Charley wants to know why the trees do that,” she said.
“Do what?” Stanley asked placing more split pieces on the pile.
“Turn yeller,” KC huffed as if it should have been obvious.
Stanley eyed his granddaughter.
For several moments, KC met his eyes but finally caved under her grandfather's glare. “Sorry, Grumps,” she apologized for her disrespectful tone. “But Charley wants to know,” she repeated as if to explain her exasperation.
Stanley glanced around then went back to his chopping. “Charley does, does he?” he asked having seen no evidence of the younger child.
KC's head bopped up and down. “Yes.”
“So why isn't he doin' the askin'?”
KC shrugged. “You know Charley… he don't talk much.”
“'Cept ta ya, it seems.”
KC smiled.
“So ya want ta know why the trees change color…”
“Charley does.”
Taking careful aim, Stanley let the axe head drop into the chopping block he was using, it bit deep into the wood and stuck. “I don't rightly know,” he said bending down to pick up the wood he had just split.
“Grumps,” KC exclaimed puzzled by the denial. “You gots to know… you're Grumps… you knows everything,” she insisted.
Stanley was about to repeat his admission to a lack of knowledge regarding the changing colors but the confident look on his granddaughter's face stopped him. “Well,” he started as he reached up and removed his Stetson. “I ain't sure ya is old enough to know,” he continued pulling his kerchief from his back pocket.
Leaning forward, KC placed her elbows on her knees and cupped her chin in her hands. “Sure I is,” she assured him.
Stanley wiped the sweat off his forehead. “I don' know.”
“Grumps, I surely is old enough,” KC stated boldly.
“It can be a mite scary…”
“I ain't scared of nothin',” KC declared.
“Well, seein' how it's Charley that wants ta know… don' seem right tellin' ya when he's not ‘round ta hear. I best wait until he asks fer his self.”
KC jerked upright. “Grumps, I wants to know, too,” she said indignantly.
“Oh… well, tha's different,” Stanley said setting his Stetson back on his head. “Sure ya don' have chores ta be doin'?”
KC frowned. “Grumps, is you goin' tell me?”
“Hold ya ponies, young ‘un,” Stanley snapped but he leaned closer to the impatient girl. “Ya ever hear of leprechauns?” he asked in a low voice.
KC shook her head. “What's lipeecon?”
“Leprechauns… they is little people. ‘Bout so high,” Stanley said holding his hand flat just above his knee.
“You mean like Charley?”
“Even smaller.”
“Smaller than Charley,” KC marveled.
Stanley nodded. “Yep. And them leprechauns… why they live under trees.”
KC's eyes grew wide. “They do?” she asked in amazement.
“Yep. Ya ever see a tree with a hole at its bottom?”
KC thought for a moment. “I surely has, Grumps,” she said excitedly.
“Well, tha's a leprechaun hole.”
KC considered what her grandfather was telling her. “But I ain't never seen no lipeecon,” she told him.
“Well, don' matter if'n ya sees them or not. They is there. And it's ‘cuz of them tha' the trees turn yeller.”
“It is?”
“Yep. Ever year, ‘bout this time, the leprechauns make the leaves yeller. So, now's ya know,” he said proudly.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why they do that?”
Stanley started to speak then realized he didn't know what to say. “Why ya got ta be so nosy?” he asked in exasperation. His little tale was getting more convoluted with each new question from the inquisitive child and he was starting to get lost in the details.
“Why do they make them yeller?” KC repeated disregarding her grandfather's obvious frustration.
Sighing deeply, Stanley bit his lip and tried to think of an explanation that would satisfy his granddaughter's curiosity. “Cuz… this time of year, their kinfolk cum ta visit.” Smiling smugly, he added, “So's they turn the trees yeller so's their kinfolk can find ‘em.”
KC remained silent for several minutes. “Hmmm,” she finally uttered ambiguously then began a careful climb down the stack of firewood. “Let's go,” she told her grandfather when she was safely on the ground.
“Go where?” Stanley asked when KC began to tug his hand.
“I wants to find a lipeecon.”
“Whoa, young ‘un! We ain't doin' nuthin' of the sort,” Stanley protested.
KC gazed up at her steadfast grandfather. “Why not?”
Stanley shook his hand free of his granddaughter's then wrapped it tightly around the axe handle. “Cuz I says so… tha's why. I have ta git back to my chores.”
Disappointed, KC watched her grandfather move back to the chopping block. Slowly, a thoughtful smile formed on her face. Spinning around, she raced away. “Bye, Grumps,” she shouted disappearing around the corner of the barn.
Stanley shook his head as he pondered what trouble his granddaughter had set off to find. “Sure hope she don' cum back ta me with it,” he muttered returning to his work.
#
Jennifer limped toward the barn. Not wanting to have to wrestle open the large double doors, she headed for the smaller regular sized door set off to the side. Reaching for the handle, she was startled when the door swung open and her daughter rushed out followed by her foot dragging son.
“Hurry up, Charley,” KC said looking back at her brother.
“Slow down… this is heavy,” Charley complained.
“It ain't heavy, Charley… you is only got the handle. I gots the heavy end.”
“Hold on there, you two,” Jennifer commanded after her children emerged lugging a shovel between them.
Hearing her mother's voice, KC's head whipped around. “Hi, Momma,” she said smiling.
“What are you planning to do with that shovel?” Jennifer asked.
“We gonna go find a lipeecon,” KC boasted confidently.
“A lipeecon? What in the world is a lipeecon?”
“Grumps says lipeecons live under the yeller trees,” KC explained.
“Lipeecons?” Jennifer repeated, her mind racing to identify what her daughter might be referring to. “I've never heard of a lipeecon… Wait!” she exclaimed. “Are you talking about leprechauns?”
KC grinned. “Yep.”
“And your grandfather said they live under the yellow trees?”
“Yep.”
“And you plan to go find one?”
KC nodded. “Yep.”
“Why isn't your grandfather going with you?” Jennifer asked.
KC frowned. “Grumps says he gots chores.”
Jennifer grinned. “Does he now,” she murmured deviously.
#
Scowling, Stanley trudged after his grandchildren as they carried the shovel into the forest.
Stopping abruptly, KC dropped her end of the shovel then turned to face her brother and grandfather. “You wait here,” she ordered.
“What are you going to do?” Charley asked letting his end of the shovel fall to the ground.
“I'm goin' find a lipeecon hole.”
“KC—”
KC raised her hand to shake a finger at her grandfather. “You and Charley wait here… and hush. We don' want to scare the lipeecons.”
Stanley watched his granddaughter set off on her hunt. He couldn't help but chuckle as she tiptoed from tree to tree looking for leprechaun holes.
“What you laughing at, Grumps?” Charley asked.
“SHHHH!!!!” KC stood several feet away, fists on her hips, glaring at them. After a moment, she resumed her hunt.
Stanley knelt down beside Charley. “Yer sister is sumthin' else,” he whispered into the boy's ear.
Charley nodded even though he wasn't sure what his grandfather had meant.
Stopping next to a birch tree, KC dropped to her knees then leaned low to study a depression at the base of the tree. Jumping up, she beckoned excitedly to her brother. “Charley, bring the shovel,” she called to him in a loud whisper. “Hurry!”
Charley thumped down on the bed of colorful leaves covering the forest floor. “It's too heavy,” he protested.
“Come on, young ‘un,” Stanley said picking up the shovel then walking toward the frantically motioning girl.
KC grabbed onto the shovel as soon as her grandfather was close and started jabbing it at the ground. “Help me, Grumps,” she demanded as her awkward attempts did little.
“Child, give me tha' ‘fore ya hurt yerself,” Stanley barked grabbing for the wooden handle careening about precariously close to his head. “Now, wha' has ya so worked up?” he asked after gaining control of the implement.
KC pointed. “Look,” she whispered. “It's a lipeecon hole,” she added resolutely. “You dig,” she told her grandfather.
“I ‘spose sayin' I won' will only rile ya up more,” Stanley grumbled.
KC looked up at her grandfather. “Dig… please,” she said smiling sweetly.
Resigned to the situation he had ultimately caused, Stanley repositioned his hands on the shovel handle then drove the square blade into the ground. The dirt around the hole was soft and he quickly exposed a short tunnel. “Alright,” he said leaning the shovel against the tree. “Let me see if'n any of ‘em leprechauns are home.”
“I'll look,” KC said excitedly and started to bend over the hole.
Stanley grabbed the girl's shirt to stop her. “Don' be doin' that,” he scolded then gently pushed KC away from the tree. “Go stand over there with ya brother.”
“Why?”
“Cuz I says so.”
“I want to see the lipeecons,” KC insisted refusing to move.
“I'll look first,” Stanley informed her. “Now, git back.” After KC had backed up a few steps, he turned his attention to the exposed burrow.
“What ya waitin' ‘fore, Grumps?” KC asked when her grandfather made no movement toward the hole.
“Hold ya ponies,” Stanley snapped. “I ain't in a hurry ta stick my hand inta a leprechaun hole.”
“You afraid, Grumps?” Charley asked innocently.
KC glared at her brother. “Charley, don't be sayin' such things. Grumps ain't afraid of nothin'. Are ya, Grumps?”
“No, I ain't afraid of nothin',” Stanley muttered unenthusiastically as he knelt down beside the hole. Cautiously, he extended his hand into the opening.
“Did ya catch one?”
Hearing KC's animated voice right next to his ear, Stanley jerked back. His arm, having been yanked out of the hole hastily, swung wildly knocking into the shovel.
“Ya okay, Grumps,” KC asked anxiously.
“No, I ain't okay,” Stanley protested loudly and rubbed his head trying to ease the pain where the shovel had smacked him. “Didn' I tell ya to stay back?” he asked crossly.
“Sorry… I go back now.”
Still rubbing his injured head, Stanley watched his granddaughter hop toward her brother. After a few moments, he turned back to the hole. Then he turned back to the children. “I plan to stick my hand down this hole and if'n I don' find nothin', tha's tha'. Understand?”
KC and Charley looked at each other then at their grandfather, their heads shaking side-to-side.
Stanley sighed and tried again. “Wha' I is sayin' is tha' if'n I don' find nothin', we is done. No more diggin' leprechaun holes. We is goin' back home. Understand?” This time, the children's heads nodded in response. “Good,” he said turning away.
“Don't worry, Charley,” KC whispered to her brother. “We can look for lipeecons after Grumps goes home.”
“I'm going home with Grumps,” Charley declared.
“Don't ya wanna find a lipeecon?” KC asked dumbfounded by her brother's lack of interest.
“No,” Charley said defiantly. “I want to go home.”
Stanley stretched his arm into the hole, tentatively reaching out with nervous fingers. Thank goodness, he told himself feeling only emptiness . Just then something soft but bristly rubbed past his hand. Now, jus' wha' can tha' be , he wondered leaning closer to the hole to look deep into its depths. Peering intently into the darkness, he could just make out a chamber at the end of the dugout tunnel and stared as a long bushy tail swept into his sight. His body froze as his brain registered the distinct white on black striping.
#
Jesse sat on the porch swing with Jennifer. KC was sitting between them, and Charley was nestled contently in her lap. With a booted foot propped up on the porch support post, she gently rocked the swing and glanced to the far end of the porch where her agitated father occupied the bathtub. She wasn't sure what part of her father's skunk encounter was funnier… him sitting in a tub of steaming water being scrubbed raw by her mother; or the looks of wonderment on her children's faces when they ran home to say he had been attacked by a ‘lipeecon'. “Tell me again what the leprechaun did to your grandfather,” she asked KC.
“It was terr'ble, Mommy,” KC said tilting her head up. “That lipeecon musta been awfully mad ‘cause it sprayed Grumps with that icky smell.”
“Ain't we talked ‘bout this e'nuff,” Stanley barked just before another pot of hot water was dumped over his head.
“Jennifer, do you have another soap bar?” Marie asked. “I've almost worn this one out.”
“Oh, yes,” Jennifer answered. “I have plenty more,” she added with a grin.
“Dang it, woman,” Stanley protested, “ya ‘bout wore out my hide with all ya scrubbin'.” His skin shone bright pink from his wife's vigorous attention.
“It's going to take a lot more scrubbing to get rid of that stink,” Marie insisted.
“Leave me be, woman,” Stanley shoved his wife's hands away. “We jus' gonna have ta wait ‘til it wears off.”
Marie pushed herself up from the stool beside the tub. “All right. I guess you can sleep in the barn until then.”
“I'm not sure the horses will agree to that,” Jesse said earnestly.
Marie picked up a towel to dry her hands. “Then he can find a place to sleep out in the woods with his leprechauns,” she stated emphatically, “because he is not sleeping with me.”
“Hmm, I wonder why that leprechaun would be so mad,” Jesse pondered trying not to laugh.
“Don' know why it dun it,” KC replied gravely. “Probably best ta be leavin' the lipeecons alone from now on. Don' ya agree, Grumps?”
#