Page 15 - Homestead By Ann Newhouse

I had walked for many hours in the hot desert sun. It was not yet summer temperatures, but I was already thirsty and weary. I had not seen a single living soul, but I had seen many animal bones. I passed them by and continued-on my way, as I had no desire to investigate. I had to look for shelter before nightfall as the weather could turn suddenly very cold. Ahead of me, I saw mountains I believed to be the Sangrede Cristo Mount, my Mother had told me about. I hoped to find shelter in a cave and settle for the night. I found an opening just large enough to allow me to stretch out to sleep comfortably. I lit my small oil lamp and unrolled my bed pack and used my jacket as a pillow. I then decided to open the papers that my mother left in the rucksack and try to understand what they contained. I hoped that, with the little knowledge of words I had, I would be able to understand some of what was written. I first took a swig of water to quench my thirst and opened a tin of beans to calm the rumbles in my stomach. I untied the string holding the bundle of papers together. As I opened it, a gold band and gold necklace, with a small locket attached, fell out. Perhaps the only valuables my mother possessed. Holding them in the palm of my hand, I thought about the sad life she had endured. I put the items away safely in my rucksack.
I began to read by the light of the lamp, as the sky had darkened with only the moon shining dimly. The first paper was a legal looking document. I could not fully make the words out as it was crumpled, with deep ridges up and down the pages. The names printed on the top didn’t mean anything to me. The second was also an official document. It seemed to be a marriage certificate. Again, the names did not seem familiar. It was written in large black letters.
Buck O’ Neilson . . . betrothed to . . .Margarete Farrell.
Justice G. Petty, Of New Mexico State, 6-20-1936. Hereby Witness This Union.
The rest I could not read clearly, as my lamp started to fade, and my eyes were closing with tiredness. I left the other papers, both looked like letters, to open another time, along with newspaper cuttings yellowed with age. The quiet of the night was disturbed by the cry of the coyotes calling to each other. Hoping I was safe, I allowed the dark to engulf me.
I woke to the sound of my billy can being rattled. It was the buzzards playing football with it, warning me they were waiting for their breakfast. I waved my hunting rifle at them, letting them know I was alive and not going to be their next meal. It scared them away... for now. I had a tin of ham and a cold coffee for breakfast, preparing myself for another day of walking, and hoping to find a clean waterhole in this land of dust and cacti plants.