San Joaquin Valley, California
Murdoch refers to it as “Resetting the Clock”. It happens with most timepieces; they start to run too fast or begin to lag behind. Once this happens the owner of the watch needs to stop and reset it to the correct time.
When one of “his children” consistently tries my father’s patience, he or she eventually winds up front and center getting “reset” with an icy glare and a long lecture. The other day, an angry blowup brought all four of us in for a “Resetting the Clock”. Tensions dissolved and our family has returned to running on time.
My thinking that the town hall dance was no longer an issue was premature. I became the enemy in my brother’s eyes when I encouraged Kinsey to attend the dance. Since our talk with Murdoch, it appears Johnny is now seeking me out as his ally.
“So you and this fella, William…you both went to Haa-vaad?”
“I see you have been practicing your Boston accent, little brother. Planning a trip soon?”
Over time, Scott learned some of the best conversations he would have with Johnny were those that took place under a shady tree after a long, hot, day’s work.
“Nah. Just askin’.”
Scott raised an eyebrow. He highly doubted Johnny was “just askin’ to pass the time. “Yes, we attended 'Hahvid' the same years, however, our paths rarely crossed.”
“Murdoch said Doc’s son has been at the newspaper only a month or two. Been in St. Louis I guess. Decided to come out here to be closer to his old man.”
“Is that so?”
Scott placed his hat over his eyes and rested against the tree. He had decided where this conversation was headed with his younger brother, however, he so enjoyed making Johnny work for it.
“Scott, I was thinkin’ it might be neighborly of you to ride in and buy this William fella a cool beer. Say hello.”
“I could do that. Ride in. Be neighborly. Say hello. Buy a cool beer. Take note on what kind of competition Johnny has for my little cousin’s affection.”
“That never entered my mind, Boston.”
“Like hell it didn’t.”
Silence.
“Forget it Scott. It was a stupid idea.”
“Forgotten.”
Silence.
“When do I ask you for help in a situation like this?”
“When don’t you ask me for help, especially in a situation like this?”
Silence.
“You’re the big brother here…”
“Johnny. Enough. I’ll go.”
Silence.
“Say it, Scott.”
“You know little brother, curiosity killed the cat.”
********
Scott entered the Green River Gazette newspaper office and was greeted with the smells of ink and newsprint. As his eyes adjusted from the bright sunlight to the darker interior, he observed a printing press, drawers of typeset and stacks of papers.
“Hello? Anybody here?”
From a backroom appeared a young man about Scott’s height, but that was all these two Harvard graduates had in common. William Jenkins sported dark hair and brown eyes behind wire-rimmed spectacles. His clothes were more suited to sitting in an office than working a ranch. William’s quizzical expression told Scott the newspaper editor was trying to place this visitor’s face to a time in the past.
“Can I help you?”
“William Jenkins, correct? I’m Scott Lancer.”
A smile broke across the editor’s face. “Scott Lancer, yes, of course!”
William held out his hand but retracted it quickly when seeing it was covered in ink. Snagging a rag, the young Jenkins tried, unsuccessfully, to clean his hands. Giving up, he offered Scott a wave. “Sorry. One of the drawbacks of this job.”
Scott made a mental note - hope he cleans up better before the dance. At least a hot bath takes care of trail dirt. “Our fathers are in touch on a regular basis. Johnny, my younger brother, isn’t the most cautious and one of Sam’s frequent customers.”
“Yes, my father has made mention of your family from time to time.”
“Heard you had moved back West.”
Scott looked around the newspaper office. “Looks like you’re settling in just fine.”
William seemed more focused on his ink-stained hands than carrying on a conversation. Obviously, Jenkins wasn’t much of a talker. “William, let me buy you a beer. We can relive our glory days at Harvard.”
What past memories the first beer didn’t cover, the beginnings of the second beer took care of. The young men’s conversation then turned to how each of them had traveled west to be reunited with their families.
“Speaking of families, my sister, Sarah, tells me you have a cousin staying with you.”
Scott slowly took his next sip of beer. He wasn't certain William knew about Kinsey and was surprised she entered their discussion.
“That’s correct.”
“Her name is…Karen?”
“Kinsey.”
“Strange name. She’s from Australia. Is that right?”
“Yes, Melbourne, but I don’t think that has anything to do with her name. Kinsey was born in Philadelphia.”
“Does she have a strange accent?”
What Scott thought was strange was William’s limited vocabulary considering he’s a newspaper editor.
“She has a slight accent. It becomes more pronounced when she’s...excited.” Scott took another sip and thought, “Like when she’s telling you to bugger off you bloody arse.”
William continued, “I don’t mean to be intrusive. I have to confess. Sarah says your cousin would like to meet me at this town hall dance tomorrow night.”
Scott almost spit out his beer.
“See, my sister likes to play matchmaker and well, most of the time these ideas of hers never work out. I’ve tried to get her to stop but…. bottom line, I’m not sure if I’m attending the dance.”
Scott held up his hand. “No explanation necessary. You see we have a matchmaker in our family as well.”
Doc’s son nodded, “Your visit now makes sense.”
Scott felt slightly guilty. “Actually William, I had planned to stop by and get reacquainted. Our two little matchmakers inspired the timing of my visit to be sooner than later.”
Beers were finished and both men agreed to stay in touch. Riding back home, Scott was pleased he could give his brother some good news.
“Johnny, you have nothing to worry about.”
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