“Good,” said Beau, with a slight tightness in his jaw.
Ruben shrugged his shoulders. “Now maybe I’m the last of the Karankawas. Or at least one who knows it.”
Beau nodded as he tuned his guitar. At first his efforts were awkward; then they picked up. Ruben started strumming his banjo, and when they got in rhythm they began strumming and humming to Michael Row the Boat Ashore. It wasn’t long before Beau had the hang of his old guitar again. The two went into a series of soft melodies, singing as they played their songs. The women started to sing along.
“Any requests?” Ruben asked.
“Yes,” said Sunday. “I want to hear Where have all the Flowers Gone.” Both men started the tune and immediately Sunday and Krysti joined in, then Natasha, Sully, and BJ. The rest started to hum or sing along with the rest. All too soon the music stopped, bringing the party to an end.
“I hate to stop,” said Sunday.
“Me too,” admitted Krysti.
Jack turned to Beau. “Hey, Beau we got something else for ya in the buggy.” Justin tagged along behind the four brothers, while the others packed for the trip home.
Now was the time for Marix to talk to Krysti freely. He waited until he caught her alone. “Krysti, why don’t we let the evening continue? I know a special place you and I can go.”
“This evening has already been special,” she replied with a smile.
“I know. Just being with you is special,” he said pulling her near.
“No, Michael, not now, I’m helping load. Why don’t you help?”
“What about later?” Marix asked angrily.
“I can’t, I have Justin.”
“Leave him with Ruben.”
“I’m sorry, not tonight.”
“It’s Beau,” Marix snapped. “I can tell. He’s not your type. If you knew more about him you wouldn’t even talk to him.”
Then Krysti lit into him. “Mister, you could stand some more manners. First, I’ll decide who is my type. You won’t! Second, I think you are entirely too aggressive for your own good, so cool it. And whatever you have to say about Beau Gex, I think you should say it in his presence.”
Marix regrouped swiftly and expertly. “Sorry, I was out of line. I hope you will accept my sincere apology.”
Krysti dropped her defense. “Apology accepted. Now why don’t you be a dear and help?”
Reluctantly, Marix helped. Except for military camp, servants did all other work. This was not a job for him. He was more interested in getting Krysti away from the others so they could be alone.
Krysti made a quick check for Justin, locating him near the dune buggies with Beau and his brothers. How kind and gentle Beau is, she thought. What could Michael know about him?
Jack pulled a rifle case from one of the buggies and opened it to reveal Beau’s old firearm, a Winchester 30 .30. The old lever action rifle was something his father had given to him when he was ten. His brothers had kept it with them while Beau was gone. The wood stock was polished and the gun freshly cleaned.
“Thought you might want it back,” said Jack.
“Thanks guys,” said Beau as he pulled the lever down and checked the chamber. Then he lifted the rifle to his shoulders and sighted it in, feeling its weight as he swung it toward the Moon.
Brook interrupted. “Got something else for you.” Beau handed the rifle to Jack and took the new gift from Brook. It was a special high-powered crossbow equipped with a scope. The wooden stock was hollowed out to allow for a half dozen steel bolts.
“It’s something you might use when you return to West Texas with us,” Danny added.
Brook grinned and wriggled his eyebrows. “You know, something for target practice since it’s illegal to hunt with them,” said Brook, winking and poking Beau in the ribs. “‘Course the game warden can’t catch you if he can’t hear you.”
“Thanks guys, it’s beautiful.”
“Let me see, let me see,” begged Justin. After Beau showed the ever-inquisitive boy the gift his brothers gave him, he placed the weapons in the back of his Corvette.
Watching Justin walk back to his mother, Jack turned to Beau. “Shit, man, that kid could pass for your own. Hell, he must be the same age as…”
“Shawn would be? Yeah he’s about the same age,” Beau said with a sigh. “Justin is twelve. The same age Shawn would have been.”
“Sorry, Beau it’s just—”
“Forget it,” he said with a casual shrug.
Warren’s bellowing suddenly interrupted the party. “Bullshit, kid. No one has ever beaten me and you sure as hell can’t,” BJ said defensively, aiming his words directly at Fitz.
“I think I can beat you in a hundred yards,” Fitzhenry said with an air of confidence.
“Bullshit,” BJ said again. “Hey Ruben, Beau, Sully. This kid says he can beat me in the hundred.”
“Hey Fitz, you don’t want to run against BJ. He was the state champ in high school,” said Beau.
Fitzhenry was on one knee, calmly tying his tennis shoe, when he offered the challenge to BJ. “Hunerd bucks says I’ll beat you.”
Everyone gathered around the pair to listen to the taunts and the challenges.
“You got a bet,” answered Warren. “Hey, we have a race.”
A few friendly bets were wagered and Larry agreed to carry the money. The betting met with his approval. He knew BJ would win. Kipp, Pick, Marix, and Beau picked the kid, Fitz. Krysti somehow felt he could also win. Marix only picked Fitz because BJ was Beau’s friend. BJ was disappointed Beau didn’t pick him. The others went with BJ and what looked like a sure thing.
“How can you pick Fritz?” Warren asked dejectedly.
Beau told BJ, “The day is coming and this might just be that day.”
Warren was quick to point out, “It’s night so you are already wrong.” Then flashing a big white grin in Ruben’s direction, he said, “It’s in the bag.”
Deliberately taking longer than normal strides, Pickett stepped off one hundred paces to what he estimated was a hundred yards. Close behind him were Fitzhenry and Warren ready to race.
At the other end, with the others watching, Ruben took a piece of driftwood and with it in both hands marked a line in the wet sand to represent the finish line.
Pickett waved his hands to signal they were ready. Ruben acknowledged Pickett and waved back.
“Are you ready?” asked Pickett.
“Well kid, are you ready to taste a little defeat?” BJ asked.
“Sure,” he said. Then smiling at Warren he added, “Why don’t you tell me all about it when you get to the other end.”
“Ready?” asked Pickett. They nodded. “One, two, three, go!” They took off side by side. A third of the way down, Warren decided to lose the kid. He put it in high gear, but Fritz was still matching him stride for stride. They could hear the yells as they neared the finish line. Thirty yards from the end, Fitz turned his head to BJ and smiled. BJ was already straining and couldn’t believe it when Fitz exploded ahead and crossed the finish line nearly two yards ahead.
“Son-of-a-bitch, Fitz is fast,” said Warren dejectedly as he tried to catch his breath.
“What happened?” asked Ruben. “I thought you could win.”
“He’s fast,” Warren said shaking his head. “That white boy runs like lightning.”
“White Lightning!” shouted Ruben. “Hey, White Lightning, congratulations. Even if I did lose some money on you.” Now Fitzhenry had his own name just like the others.
Bending over BJ’s dejected shoulders, Beau patted him on the back. “Changing of the guard, BJ, just a changing of the guard.” While loading the vehicles, they all talked about the race and congratulated Fitz while the men teased BJ. Immediately, he asked for best two out of three.