Cowboys & Indians

Monday, October 24, 2005

(7:31am) Summarizing a weekend was always difficult, particularly when it had been such a good time. But Collette somehow managed to piece things together when such a weekend had just passed. And there was never a better place to begin, than from the beginning…

Colorado Lord-Welches – the man of the hour. He and Carrie had been pals ever since the beginning. Carrie had always had the boy pals, all of them being her age. And she was the tomboy of the family. There was Bing, Sylvester, and the Ingrid boy, and many others over the years. Somehow Carrie was always their fellow knight, cowboy, or Indian, depending on the scenario. But the Snicketts never saw the Lord-Welches more than once a year, and often the time-frame was much greater between visits. But Mom and Dad and Mrs. and Mr. Lord-Welches had been friends for over twenty-five years by then, and they were like brothers and sisters. So Colorado and Carrie had grown up as long-distance friends, the best of cowboy and Indian comrades. There were always rubber snakes, tomahawks, feather headdresses, and pink tutus accompanied by Indian war cries and blood-curdling yells whenever Colorado and Carrie got into the dress-up box. Of course then, Colorado was a shrimpy fellow with glasses, and Carrie was always missing teeth (naturally, or by accident), her hair was always in a disheveled blond ponytail. And if compelled to wear a dress, it would be her Mz. Frizzle dress (as the boys in Sunday School called it), emblazoned with dinosaurs and tropical plants.

But now, they had both grown up. They were still full of mischief – that was obvious. It was to be the first wedding of Carrie’s old pals.

Friday morning began with a cool snap as Dad hurried home from work at noon and fixed the last of the travel trailer, to set off. OLeif and Collette were greeted with an announcement from Linnea. She pointed at Pumpkin sleeping on the dining room table amidst a pile of Mom’s pumpkins (an autumn arrangement).

“Look!” Linnea grinned. “Pumpkin’s sleeping with her brethren.”

Meanwhile, Joe and Rose were discussing Curly’s latest mishap with his violin. In fact, Curly called Joe while they waited to depart. Apparently, the fiddle could be fixed, although OLeif highly doubted it would ever sound the same again. The violin had been made in the mid-1700’s, as it was told. And several passerby had offered Curly $12,000 for it, on the spot, after having heard him play it. It was Mr. Bearden’s favorite, as well. And Grandpa Hobcoggin had been sending wine and cheese to Mr. Bearden every year for eight years, so the Hobcoggins would be taking his fiddle for fixing, to Mr. Bearden, naturally.

But Curly had not called to discuss the violin in particular. Rather, he had called to say that his dad was protecting Dick Cheney that day.

“Oooh, get his autograph for me,” Joe told him.

“Who’s Dick Cheney?” Rose asked.

But soon, it was about time to leave and Carrie complained about things while OLeif spun pumpkins on the kitchen table, like tops.