Ruffy and Me

Daydreaming

Seventeen year old JJ, short for Joe Staples Jr., lay in the thick grass along the banks of Warm Spring Creek, daydreaming about life. There were a million things he would dream about, such as being a, rancher, a miner, a cowpoke, or what he usually dreamed about, being a detective. For right now though, he was dreaming about that fast draw contest coming up tomorrow in Slate Springs. Boy, it just wasn’t fair. You had to be eighteen to enter. JJ could out-shoot any man in the whole state. Well, that was the way he felt. He was even very fast on the draw. Just ask Jim and John Williams, JJ’s two friends.

JJ had tried and tried, but he could not get them in church. Jim and John where twins. Their mother owned Millie’s Cafe, a favorite eating-place in town. They knew not to cuss or do other ungodly things around JJ, as JJ loved God and had standards.

There was a reason JJ was such a good shot. When he was fourteen, a man walked into his daddy’s store and acted as though he was interested in buying a pistol. When his daddy was not expecting it, he shot him. JJ and his mom witnessed the shooting. Then he went on to rob the store, taking several guns, including two 1867 British Tranter Army. 450 cal pistols and money from the cash box. JJ saw the man ride away and he swore to track him down one day. His mom made him promise to wait until he reached eighteen. Her hope was that he would forget, but there was no such thing as "forget" to JJ.

When he was fifteen, JJ had started to mature rapidly. You could see he was taking after his daddy. He was already six feet tall and weighed one hundred forty pounds. A willow sapling was thicker than he was. His daddy had been a gunsmith. There was not a gun that he could not fix. JJ’s daddy was really proud of him for his interest in the business and thought that one day he and JJ might be partners.

At the age of six, when JJ started school, he would spend every afternoon with his daddy in the gun shop helping him work on guns. By the time he was fourteen, he could repair any gun just as well as his daddy. So, when his daddy was killed, JJ was able to repair guns around town in order to help his mom run the house and, of course, to pay for shells so he could practice his shooting. Over the years, his daddy had collected quite a few guns. Among them, was a Winchester Model 1873 Rifle. 44wcf, Smith and Wesson 1st. Model Russian. 44, a Smith and Wesson American. 45, and two more 1867 British Tranter Army. 450 cal. These were Joe’s favorite guns because the cylinder didn’t rotate when the hammer was cocked, only when the trigger was pulled. JJ thought this might prove valuable in trying to sneak up on someone. He would cock the pistol when it was still in the holster by thumbing back on the hammer before drawing, making him dangerously fast. He spent hours and hours every afternoon practicing every possible combination of personal gun tricks in the gully where he and his daddy had practiced. He could lay the rifle on the ground, throw an egg up in the air, pick up the rifle, and shoot the egg before it hit the ground. With his right hand, he could throw up a can, draw with his left hand and shoot the can before it started down. This was quite a feat, since he was right-handed. What he could do with his right hand was incredible. Not only was he incredibly fast, but he could shoot a bottle through the hole in a washer at an incredibly fast speed without nicking the washer.

Now that he was seventeen, he was six feet five inches tall and weighed two hundred fifty pounds. His hands were the kinds that average men’s hands were dwarfed when put up besides his. His biceps were bigger than the calf of most men’s legs.

Suddenly, a sharp pain in his big toe brought him back to reality. He had wrapped the line around his toe, in case he got a bite he wouldn’t miss it. "OOH!" screamed JJ as the line cut deep into his toe. He unraveled the line from his toe and grabbed his pole. As he pulled back on the pole, it bent so that JJ thought it was going to break. As he pulled the catfish from the water, he couldn’t believe his eyes! "It must weigh at least twenty pounds!" he thought. It was at least six inches between the fish’s eyes! With that catch, JJ decided it was time to go home. JJ never caught more than he and his mom could eat.

He had about a two-mile ride back to town, where they lived on the outskirts of Slate Springs, Montana. He stopped at the smokehouse and hung the catfish on the spike that he used to skin and clean the fish. In a few short minutes, JJ had the catfish skinned and dressed. He walked into the house with a big smile on his face. He knew his mom would like this catch!

His mom was a very smart lady of thirty-six. She never did anything but clean house. Then, when her husband was killed, she sold the gun shop to Terry Hornsby, who turned it into a general store. She used the money to get the schooling she needed to become a beautician. After that, she opened a beauty parlor in the room her husband had built on the side of the house to do some of his gun repairs.

"Mom, you ain’t going to believe what I caught!" JJ hollered as he walked through the door.

"I’m in here JJ!" he heard his mom call from the parlor. As he walked into the parlor, he saw Mary Ann Clark, a lady from church. She was getting her nails done.

"That’s a big one, son!" exclaimed his mom. Continuing, she said, "Put it on a plate in the kitchen and I will fix it for supper."

Changing the subject as though she suddenly remembered something, she said, "Oh, JJ, please run down to the general store and ask Mr. Hornsby if my shipment of supplies came in."

"Yes ma’am, I’ll do that right now," said JJ. JJ was always willing to do anything to please his mom and he didn’t mind it a bit.

As he left the room, Mary Ann said, "Oh Beth, I don’t know how you have done it. You’ve trained that boy up to be the most unbelievably hard working young gentleman I’ve ever seen."

"I can’t take the credit for all that, Mary. Joe spent more time with that boy than he did with me, and it certainly paid off! He was so gentle with him. He taught JJ everything: patience, discipline, how to repair guns, how to shoot them, and from the time he was a baby, the Crow language. Though I didn’t allow it until JJ was twelve, I finally gave in. Joe convinced me a gun was no worse than the sling shot JJ had shot since he was ten. He was quite good with it too. Joe taught JJ all about shooting every type of gun."

Beth sighed and continued, saying, "When JJ was knee high to a grasshopper, Joe used to take him to the Indian Reservation. Did you know that his grandmother was a pure bred Crow Indian? I don’t know if you heard the story or not, but JJ’s great grandparents came west right after Lewis and Clark. A stampeding buffalo herd killed them and the only survivor was JJ’s grandfather. He was just a baby and was found by a Crow Indian woman who then raised him. He grew up and married the Chief’s daughter and JJ’s daddy was born. After Joe’s death, the Chief of the Crow Indians, Chief Running Bear, who was JJ’s grandmother’s brother, took off where his daddy left off and taught JJ all the Crow ways. He loved JJ so much! JJ spent the last two summers out on the reservation being taught by Chief Running Bear and his son, who is the Chief now. Chief Running Bear died this last winter. JJ led him to the Lord before he died. He taught JJ how to make a b