The Fool

San Joaquin Valley, California

Scott studied the three cards his cousin had placed in front of him. ‘She thinks Johnny is going to have a problem with the prospect of this business venture. Well, I think he’s going to have a problem too.’

Scott gathered up the cards and placed them back in the deck. “On second thought, maybe I should keep these.”

“Wait. You promised I could have them back!”

“I did. But now I’m questioning your ability to predict the future. These are dangerous in the hands of an amateur. I’m doing society a favor.”

“Ah, there’s a familiar expression on the little girl’s face. I believe I’m about to be invited to a tea party.’

“Kinsey, look at me. I’m going to talk to Johnny and everything will be fine. I promise. Now, it’s time to get our day started.” Taking her hand, Scott surrendered the tarot cards. “This is against my better judgment.”

Scott spied Johnny preparing the small supply wagon for traveling. Even at a distance, his brother’s body language signaled displeasure for the task at hand.

‘ Now THIS is against my better judgment.’ “Going somewhere, little brother?”

“Town.”

“For what?’

“Supplies.”

“Jelly picked up supplies three days ago.”

“Kitchen supplies.”

Scott glanced around. “Teresa going?”

“No.”

“How do you know what to buy?’

Johnny stopped adjusting the horse’s harness to dig down into his pocket to retrieve…

”A list.”

The piece of paper fluttered inches from Scott’s nose before returning to the depths of a pocket. The older brother adjusted his hat low on his brow to hide his smile. Johnny despised shopping for kitchen supplies.

“I see. Well, that’s mighty nice of you; offering to pick up supplies for Teresa.”

“Not an offer. Penance.”

“Penance for what?’

“Eatin’ an apple pie. I'm supposed to know it was for those flock of birds that fly in here every Wednesday afternoon? I ain't no mind reader.”

Scott pinched the bridge of his nose to suppress laughter. ‘Teresa’s book club.’ “Well Johnny, I’m not to be held responsible for delaying this crucial kitchen mission. What I have to say can wait.” As Scott turned to leave, his ears were greeted with a familiar statement.

“I swear. Nothing happened.”

Staring at his brother, Scott’s eyes narrowed as one thought came into focus. ‘Well, isn’t this curious. I believe it’s Teresa’s list that can now wait.’

The apple pie thief inquired, “You talked to Kinsey?”

“I did.”

“What did she say?”

Adopting the accustomed stance of the hands on the hips, Scott replaced his stern expression with an all-knowing smile. “I believe I will give you a chance to tell me your side of the story, little brother, before going into what Kinsey may have said. I suggest you start at the beginning.”

“We were both hot.”

“Not a good place to start, John.”

“From the sun. We were both hot from the sun. Yesterday. When we were out riding.”

Scott crossed his arms and said nothing. Past experience had taught him saying nothing inspired his brother to say more.

“We rode out to Martin’s Lake and…let me tell you that little cousin of yours is no innocent angel. Damn, Scott, she’s the one who suggested skinny-dipping.”

Scott raised an eyebrow.

“I averted my eyes.”

Scott rolled his.

“Not sure she did the same.” Johnny stopped long enough to study his brother’s face. “The lake wasn’t what you wanted to talk to me about, was it?”

“No. But it is now.”

“Damn.”

*******

“Where is she, Maria?”

“Teresa?”

“No. Kinsey.”

"Ninita, she's out back with the laundry."

Finding Kinsey struggling to hang a large wet blanket, Scott positioned himself opposite his cousin to assist in smoothing it out on the line.

A voice was heard from the other side of the soggy material. “You came just in time. That blanket was putting up a fight.

“It was.”

“You’re my hero.”

“I am.”

"Talk to Johnny?”

“I did.”

“What did he say?”

With two fingers, Scott pulled the clothesline down far enough for Kinsey to see his entire face.

“Skinny-dipping.”

Much to his surprise, instead of relying on tears and forgiveness, Kinsey went on the offensive.

“Nothing. Happened.”

“Other than removing your clothes?”

Grabbing the basket, the indignant swimmer marched down the line of laundry leaving her accuser behind.

Catching up, Scott steered his cousin away from the kitchen door and towards the barn. “You and I are having a discussion.”

Once inside with the barn door closed, Scott started in.

“Kinsey…”

“Your time at the lake with Madeline and Maura versus mine with Johnny; please Scott, tell me the difference.”

“Is your last name McGuire?”

“No.”

“There’s the first difference.”

“Oh, I see. I am being forced to live under the suppression of the double standard. I think not!”

Shoving the laundry basket into Scott’s mid-section, Kinsey abruptly turned, tossed her hair and walked out of the barn.

'Double standard'. Scott had noticed the coined phrase appearing more frequently in the newspapers. Conceding to frustration, he dropped kicked the basket across the barn floor. The woman’s suffrage movement had just landed at Lancer.

“God help us all.”