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I sneak glanced at her throughout my meal, noting the thinness I had seen the night before. I realized, however, that although she was a little thinner than I recalled, she still looked healthy and strong, and that filled me with hope.
“So, what do you guys call that little ball of fluffiness?”
My mom chuckled. “He sure is a furball, isn’t he? We call him Billy the Kid. What d’ya think?”
I laughed softly. “I think it suits him, and I shouldn’t be surprised with your pension for giving us all western names.”
My mother and I sat in silence for a while, and Billy the Kid sat at my feet, his little raspy tongue scraping against the leg of my jeans periodically. When I’d finished what I could eat of my meal, I glanced around the house to see if my mom needed any help with anything. The sink was empty, the counters wiped clean. My mom had always been very efficient, so it came as no surprise.
“Doesn’t look like you need any help in here, maybe I should go see what Dad and Cody have got going on.”
My mom shook her head. “They’re fine. Weve got plenty of hired hands-too many-if you ask me. Anyway, I was hoping you could drive into town and mail this package for me. That way I can get started on dinner.”
I agreed to run the errand for my mom, and in all honesty, I was grateful for the opportunity to escape the ranch and clear my head. I’d just made it to the screen door, when my mom called out, “Oh, you should stop and visit Samantha while you’re out. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.”
Smiling at my mom, I waved. “I think I’ll do that. I hadn’t even told her I was coming home.”
7
Pulling into town, I glanced toward the south of Durango, taking in the towering peaks of the San Juan Mountain range, bordered by its low-laying forests, and I smiled. It was magical, especially this time of the year. The fall was the best time to hike and take in the breathtaking scenery here in Colorado. The temperatures were getting cooler, the leaves were changing colors, and the overall effect was dazzling. Continuing further into town, I passed the Railroad Museum and the entrance to the Durango and Silverton narrow gauge railroad. With its nineteenth century steam train that wove its way through mountain passes and canyons, which was a ride I’d always enjoyed taking in my youth.
Further into town, I glanced at the Powerhouse Science Center, recalling the times I’d gone there on fieldtrips as well as during family outings. There were so many places in this town that stirred up memories, both happy and bittersweet. Passing the building which used to house a burger joint, but which now hosted a taqueria, I snickered to myself. I could still remember having my first date at the old burger joint, and I could still picture the look on Graham Olsen’s face when he realized I wasn’t going to let him kiss me. The memory amused me and managed to improve my mood tenfold.
Walking into the old post office off eighth street, I looked over the brick building with its heavy brown metal doors, before yanking them open and proceeding into the dimly lit interior. Being a Tuesday before noon, the place was pretty empty with only one older woman standing in line. As I stood behind her with the box my mother had asked me to mail, I watched her fiddle with her envelope, trying, ineffectually to get the flap to stay closed. The elderly woman looked haggard, with her half pinned up hair and mis-matched socks. As I peered closer at the mentioned socks, I smiled. One was decorated with dozens of little cat images, while the opposite sock held colorful chickens.
Feeling bad for the woman who was obviously struggling, I stepped forward and asked, “Would you like a hand with that, Ma’am?”
Slowly, she turned her head toward me, her hair falling to one side, her thick eye glasses having fallen down to perch at the very tip of her nose, and she smiled. Her wrinkles bunched up, and her faded blue eyes took me in. “Oh, honey, that would be ever so kind.”
Without further ado, I took the letter she held in her hand, licked the seal strip, and pressed the flap firmly closed. Smiling up at the woman, I held the letter back to her as she thanked me graciously.
“Oh, dear me, I had no idea the darn thing needed to be licked. Don’t they sell those other kind now, you know, the ones with the little strip thingy you peel off?”
I chuckled softly. “I believe they do, ma’am. Personally, I’ve always liked those much better myself.”
I waited patiently as the older lady paid for a stamp with dimes and nickels, slowly and meticulously counting each one out, before she waved goodbye to me and headed out of the post office. Stepping up to the counter, I handed the package over and paid the postage.
When I exited the post office, only about five minutes had elapsed, but as I glanced toward the left, I noticed the old woman making her way slowly down the street. The poor woman had put her purse on only halfway, and the second strap was hanging down, her purse gaping open and her pocket book fully exposed for anyone to see. With a sigh, I made my way after her, waiting until I was right beside her to speak, so I wouldn’t startle her.
“Ma’am? Excuse me, Ma’am, your purse, it’s kind of…open, and I’m afraid your stuff’s going to fall out of it.”
Rearing back in startled surprised-despite my efforts not to catch her off guard-she yelped, before reaching out a steadying hand and giving a small laugh. “Oh, my, you gave me a fright, my dear.”
I smiled patiently at her. “I’m sorry about that.”
She peered around at her purse, letting out a little gasp of surprise. “Oh, dear, I see what you mean. You’re such a sweet girl, helping me out twice now.”
“It’s no problem, I didn’t want someone sneaking up and grabbing your stuff.”
Having righted her purse and placed both straps firmly across her thin shoulder, she brought her aged blue eyes back to me. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
I smiled indulgently. “My name’s Callie Hamlyn, ma’am.”
Her eyes widened, and she seemed taken aback for a moment. “Hamlyn? Hamlyn? Huh, why does that sound familiar? And Callie…Callie…that’s short for something.” She scrunched her wrinkled face up for a moment, looking even older than she had just a moment ago.
“Oh!” she exclaimed so loudly, I jumped.
“Callie…Calamity Jane Hamlyn, I knew that name was familiar. Is it really you? My my my, you sure have grown!”
