Kid Barlow's Ace in the Hole

Chapter 6: Kid Arrives in Memphis

Kid crept into Memphis at three p.m. the day before Winner Take All Poker Tournament started. Skirting the town he rode down to the riverbank, to get his bearings. The mighty Mississippi River, a magnificent queen among rivers, sported small island that broke the flow of the muddy water rolling toward the gulf. Kid sucked in a great breath filled with a fishy aroma that reminded him of warm afternoon on a small riverbank with his Pa. He closed his eyes and lifted his face skyward as the memories washed over him. The breeze caressed his skin and flicked errant strands of hair across his cheeks. Birdsong drifting through the air and the shushing rush of the water delighted his ears. “I made it, Pa.” he whispered. “This trip’s all for you!”

A strident horn, yanked the young gambler from his reverie. His eyes flew open and his jaw dropped at the sight of a large paddle-wheel boar sliding into dock with the elegance and grace of royalty. I never seed a boat like that!

The Mississippi Belle stood three stories high; a small wheel house topped her off. Clean white paint with red trim and lights decked out her metal railings and windows. A two-story high stern paddle thrust the Belle up and down the river. Several small rowing boats hung above the second floor. Further up, the American flag whipped in the wind. Golly dang! You’re one purty boat, Mississippi Belle. Maybe I’ll float ya’ one day soon.

“Okay, Buck, let’s go.” He nudged his horse toward the town.

They sauntered through town eyeballing businesses and establishments. The home of the big tourney, the Red Slipper Saloon, took center stage on Front Street. A gigantic rough hewn building boasted at a size 508 lady’s red shoe adorned the roof‘s peak. A multitude of men meandered in and out of the saloon. Five hotels and three smaller saloons stretched over several more blocks. Raucous laughter wafted through the air as men shouted, slapped each other on the backs, and greeted friends and acquaintances. The smell of sweet cheroot smoke mingled above the din.

Kid took a deep breath and his left eye twitched as he spied the sheriff’s office. A white-washed wooden structure, the porch boasted two round-back wooden chairs in front of two dirty windows. The rough wooden sign above the door said Memphis Jail. The windows’ gold print announced it the office of Sheriff Don Matlock. Kid didn’t stay too long at the jail, but thought it better not to avoid it either. ‘Play your poker relaxed, controlled, and straight faced’ Pa always said. I reckon them’s good for poker, life, and the law as well. Kid’s eye twitched again as he urged Buck on.

A drenching morning rain left and the usual dusty street a quagmire in low places. Red clay mud splattered every horse, man, and wagon. Kid and Buck began to take on a reddish brown hue. They came upon a wagon stuck in sloppy, muddy rut. Five men used their brawn and collective grunts to free the wagon, but the wagon would win this tug-of-war Kid decided with a smile.

Kid watched a rotund woman--pulling two equally plump young boy--exit a newspaper and printing office. A narrow surveyor’s bureau squeezed in between two livery stables.
A new building housed Memphis Mercantile just across the street and looked out of place because of its newness. A large white tooth sign hung at the end of the mercantile building pointing upstairs to a dentist office. A tall man held his swollen jaw in one hand and hung for dear life to the banister as he crept slowly down the stairs.

At the very end of the street stood Doc Walker’s workplace smack dab across from the local funeral home. A sign proclaimed House’s Funeral Home: Escorting the Deceased Home to Glory. I wonder if a funeral home so close to the doctor’s office advertises his know-how.

Kid felt relieved hiding out and waiting for the Tournament, but now the activity and excitement squeezed him tightly. His heart tapped danced. Anticipation hung in the air and embraced him. By jiggers, I ain’t never felt this free and happy. I shore wish Pa could’ve made this trip with me. Kid looked into the clearing skies. He leaned over Buck, patted the horse’s neck, and began to choose livery stable good enough for the horse.

Kid checked out every stable in Memphis making sure he picked the best for Buck’s stay. When he made his decision, he shook out his red bandanna and attempted to wipe the mud from his face. As his left eye started twitching again, he took a deep breath to calm himself and went inside.

“Say, Kid. Can I help you?” An older man with a twinkle in his eye walked over to Kid while wiping his dirty hands on his leather apron. Name’s Murray, Sam Murray.”

“I‘m Jesse Barlow,” said Kid extending an arm for the handshake. “I’d like to stable my horse here for a few days. You got any room fer Buck?”

“Gosh, I’m full up. I’d like to oblige you, but I ain‘t had no room for over a week now. The big tournament starts tomorrow, ya’ know.”

“Yes, sir. I know about the tournament. That’s what I’m here for.”

“How many years you racked up, son? Don’t look old enough to shave.”

Kid felt his eye twitch. “I’m twenty-three, sir. That’s what people always say. Guess my Injun blood done stumped my hair growth. I can’t grow a crop of face hair if you paid me to.” Kid smiled at Mr. Murray remembering what Pa said about his smile lightening up his face. “But, I surely would like for Buck to stay here.” Kid strolled down to the stalls and bent over to test the hay. “Your place looks like a palace. See them nice sized stalls! I saw Smithson’s Livery & Feed down the street and I just couldn’t leave Buck there. It smelled awful odorous and with them narrow stalls, old Buck couldn’t even lie down if’n he took a notion.” Kid pulled out a small wad bills from his overall bib pocket. “How much you get a day for a horse, Mr. Murray?”

“Two bits a day for those taking care of their own horse, feed, and stall. Three bits plus feed otherwise, young man. But, I done told you. Sir, there’s no openings here.”

“Well, Mr. Murray.” Kid prayed his eye would stay still. “I’ll pay you double for the best stall, care, and feed you can provide my horse for the next five days. I don’t trust him with anyone, but I know a fair man when I see one. You run a nice, clean livery. I believe I can trust you.”

Mr. Murray pushed his hat back on his head and scratched his balding head. He stared at Kid sizing him up a good two minutes. Kid gazed back with that cock-eyed twist of his mouth.

“Tell you what, Mr. Murray. I’m gonna win the tournament this week. And, that’s a pure fact. You take good care of my Buck and when I win, I’ll throw in an extra saw buck. How’s that?”

“What makes you think you gonna win this year’s Winner Take All?

“What makes you think I won‘t?”

Kid knew victory when he saw it in. Murray’s twinkling eyes returned and he guffawed. Whisking off his hat, he slammed it against his left leg. Dust scattered like ducks off a pond. “By doggies, you got gumption, Mr. Barlow, and I wouldn’t doubt you might give the tournament a good run. I like you. Tell ya’ what. I’ll take my own horse down to Smithson’s for the next five days. Your Buck’ll occupy the best stall in my stable…ah, I collect in advance. He smiled and stuck out his hand, palm up.

“For sure, Mr. Murray.“ Kid began to count out his money in the man’s hand.

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate your business and I myself will take care of Buck. Put him over in number four and I’ll transfer him over in a bit.”

“Here’s an extra fiver if you will clean that mud off him before you leave for the day.”

“Happy to. You got a place to stay, boy? My sister runs that blue boarding house a block west of the Red Slipper. It’s called the Riverside Boarding House and I know she still holds some openings.”

“I’ll mosey on over that way then. Good doing business with you, Mr. Murray.” Kid went to his horse and petted his neck. Then, he removed a beat up brown saddle bag, whispered in Buck’s ear, and walked out. Once I get settled at the Riverside, I’ll git me some new clothes, boots, and a real haircut.