"Do you think you'll be alright here by yourself?" Peter asked.
Aponi nodded as she wrapped herself tighter in the blankets Peter had given her. Peter draped a thin blanket over her head. "Try not to move too much," Peter said. "I'll be back after work. If you're hungry there are some biscuits and stuff further in the wagon. There is a canteen with the water if you're thirsty."
"Thank you."
The blankets moved a bit as Aponi got more comfortable. Peter smiled as he walked back to town. The sun was beginning to shine bright. The weather was nice.
Peter reached town and walked to the saloon. It had just opened. Calphurnia greeted him with a smiling face. He flashed her a smile back and took his place at the piano. Calphurnia stood by the piano.
"Why so happy this morning?" She asked.
"I just am," Peter said still smiling.
"I do believe Peter has gotten himself a lady friend," Calphurnia said laughing.
Peter blushed bright red. "I was right," She said teasingly. "Who is she?"
Peter looked down at the piano and began to play.
"Come on, tell me," Calphurnia said pushing Peter's shoulder gently.
Peter shook his head.
Calphurnia sighed. "I guess you don't have to tell me who you're taken with, but I'll find out one way or another," She said.
Peter smiled and nodded his head. "Maybe you will," He said.
Peter played the piano for the saloon. Vincent came into the saloon for a short time. He looked like he was in considerable pain as he drank his bottle of whiskey. His dark curls were stuck to his forehead by beads of sweat. He looked ill. He left right after he was done drinking without saying a word to anyone. Calphurnia was standing by the piano. "What a poor soul," She said sadly.
"What happened to him?" Peter asked.
"Well, I don't know the whole story, but from what I've heard, while he still lived in Virginia he was thrown from his horse and he busted his leg and then when he came down here a few years ago he was in wagon accident with a friend of his and his friend's fiancé. His friend died in the accident and his leg was hurt even worse," Calphurnia said. "He's been through a lot."
Peter was quiet as he flitted his fingers across the piano.
And he pays for every year he cannot buy back with his tears
As he finds out there's been no one keeping score
Micky walked into the saloon. He waved at Calphurnia. Calphurnia smiled and walked to him. Peter pulled down a piece of blank paper. He pulled his fountain pen off of the top of the piano. He quickly wrote down the lyrics that he and Mike had written together. He thought over the name of the song.
He wrote The Door Into Summer on the top of the paper.
Peter began to play the music to the song. Mike and Davy walked in a little while later. Mike was in a good mood. He walked over to the piano where Peter was sitting. "Do you want a drink?" He asked.
Peter shook his head.
Mike smiled. "Me and Davy hit the mother load," He said. "We're rich!"
Peter smiled. He passed Mike the lyrics to the song they had been writing. Mike smiled. "You finished it! Well, go on, play it for me!" He exclaimed.
Peter began to play the piano.
"With his fool's gold stacked up all around him
From a killing in the market on the war
The children left King Midas there, as they found him
In his counting house where nothing counts but more
And he thought he heard the echo of a penny whistle band
And the laughter from a distant caravan
And the brightly painted line of circus wagons in the sand
Fading through the door into summer
Well, it's travel onto "maybe next year" 's places
As a trade-in for a name upon the door
And he pays for every year he cannot buy back with his tears
As he finds out there's been no one keeping score
And he thought he heard the echo of a penny whistle band
And the laughter from a distant caravan
And the brightly painted line of circus wagons in the sand
Fading through the door into summer."
Mike grinned as he finished singing the song. The words seemed to fit so well. Peter smiled as well. Micky moved over to the piano. "What was that song?" He asked.
"The Door Into Summer," Mike said smiling.
"I have never heard a song like it!" Micky exclaimed. He was smiling broadly.
Davy walked over too. "You should add your guitar to that, Mike," He said.
Mike nodded. "Yeah," He said. "I'll do that."
"Hey, pass me the lyrics," Micky said. He read through them. "These are really good. Who wrote 'em? You, Peter?"
"Me and Mike," Peter said.
Micky smacked Mike's arm. "You and Pete write some good music," He said.
Peter blushed and looked down at his hands.
"Hey, Peter, did you get that squaw?" Davy asked.
"She's in the wagon," Peter said.
"Squaw?" Micky asked slowly.
"Her name's Aponi," Peter said smiling. "She's really pretty."
"Like an actual Indian?" Micky asked.
Peter nodded. Micky covered his mouth. "Why are you so surprised?" Peter asked.
"Um... Well, people here don't particularly like Indians," Micky whispered.
"Why not?" Davy asked.
Micky rubbed his nose. "They're really different from us. Kinda savage," He said.
"Where I come from, I heard of them massacring an entire town, even the women and children," Mike said.
Peter and Davy stared at Mike and Micky. "Aponi's not like that," Peter said.
"Hey, I ain't sayin' she is, but what if her people want her back and they come after ya," Mike said.
"Then she can go back," Peter said. "I'm not keeping her against her will."
Micky shook his head. "You don't think like an Indian," He said. "They sooner kill a white man then blink."
"They can't be any different than us," Davy said.
"Sure, they feel pain like us and stuff, but they don't feel like us," Micky said.
Peter stared at Micky. He felt tears welling up in his eyes. "You're wrong," He said.
Micky looked at Peter surprised. "I'm sorry, Pete, I didn't mean it like that," He said.
Calphurnia saw Peter looking sad. She walked over to them. "Did you boys make poor little Peter cry?" She asked hugging Peter.
"We didn't mean to," Micky said.
Davy glared at Micky and Mike.
"You two are so mean to poor Peter," Davy said.
"You two scat, I don't want to see your faces around here any more today," Calphurnia said pushing Mike and Micky out of the saloon.
Peter started to play a sad song on the piano. Calphurnia sat down beside him and squeezed his shoulder. "It's okay, I bet they didn't really mean it," She said.
"Why don't people around here like Indians?" Peter asked.
Calphurnia shrugged. "That's just how things are," She said.
Peter looked down at his hands. He was still playing the piano. "It's not right," He said.
Calphurnia sighed. "It isn't, but we can't change things," She said.
Peter nodded still playing.
"Hey, cheer up, Pete," Davy said. "They don't know nothin'."
Peter nodded and kept playing the piano. Aponi couldn't be a savage, could she?
(Hey, so I'm actually dealing with a real issue of the California Gold Rush, it was one of the largest and most horrifying genocides of American history, but American history glosses over it, like it never happened. The Native American populations were diminished to nearly none and they are to this day one of the smallest American minorities. Now, Peter and Davy wouldn't know about these things cuz of where they were from. Mike and Micky on the other hand would have been from areas that would have seen Native American attacks, usually brought on by the colonists. This brought on a lot of racism. Basically, white people didn't like anyone but other white people and even then it depended on what type of white you were. I know this sounds horrible, but that's how it was. Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope you don't mind me dealing with big issues in a Fanfiction.
Love and peace to all. Keep rockin'! ~ Adde Away!)