205. The Indian and the Wooden Spoon

Mama's stew is the best stew in the world. Nobody anywhere can make it better. It's perfect. I don't know what she puts in it but it's so yummy. In all my life I've never had anything better. And I'm five, and that's a long time. I've lived a lot of places, too, so I know what I'm talking about. Willy and George say that when we still lived in Illinois and Mama had her pretty bowls, the stew was even better! But these wooden ones that Papa made here in Utah let it be pretty good still. And I can't break these ones. I even dropped a whole stack of them yesterday. There were probably about a hundred of them. They went all over the house. Papa was a little mad, but not one of them broke. I told him they didn't break because he made them and he's the best, and then he didn't whup me. But Mama's stew is the best! That's why the Indians came today. Well, that's why the first one came. See, everyone in the valley knows about Mama's stew. And it's so yummy you can smell it all the way down at the Pratt's farm, I think. So when this Indian smelled Mama's stew he came right up to the house with his big horse. He was the most huge horse I've ever seen. And he just walked right in and told Mama to give him some stew. Not the horse, though. The horse stayed outside. He wasn't even tied to the post or anything. He just stood there and waited the whole time. But the Indian came in and told Mama to give him some stew. He was real mean and scary. I wasn't scared but Rudy and Hayworth wouldn't come out from under the bed. They're supposed to be watchdogs and keep Mama and me safe when the Indians come and Papa's in the field, but today they just hid. But I wasn't scared. And Mama wasn't scared neither. Mama's never scared. She just told that Indian no and kept on stirring the stew. Well, he didn't like that very much. He called Mama names and said all sorts of mean words that I would have got my mouth washed out for saying. He tried to push Mama out of the way so he could get some stew but she told him she wasn't going to feed anyone who was so rude. That made him so mad that he spit right into Mama's stew. That's disgusting. It takes a long time to make Mama's stew. One time I tried to help Mama make it. I put some spices in it just like Mama does, but I guess I put the wrong ones in cause she had to throw it away and by then it was too late to make more so we had to eat some old bread and apples for dinner instead. I got whupped for that one. So when that Indian spit in Mama's stew I knew he was in trouble. Mama doesn't usually get mad, but she got mad at that Indian. She took her wooden spoon and smacked that Indian's bottom so hard with it that it broke! I felt a little bit bad for him. I've been hit with that spoon a lot and it hurts a lot, but it's never broken before. Mama must have been swinging really hard to break it. Well he howled and cursed like he'd been kicked by a horse, but he finally left. He got up on his big horse and rode away. Mama sat down on her rocking chair and cried. Mama doesn't cry very often, so I knew she must've been really sad. I climbed up on her lap and hugged her and told her everything was going to be alright, just like she does when I'm sad. After a while we got up and I helped Mama get rid of the bad stew. I picked some carrots and potatoes and we started getting an easier, quicker dinner ready. I was pretty sad that we weren't going to have any stew. I love Mama's stew. Mama sat down to mend Papa's shirt and I was doing my letters when we heard a couple of horses outside. It was too early for Papa to be back and we weren't expecting the Carpenters until tomorrow. Mama told me to keep doing my letters and she went outside. I tried real hard to be obedient but when I heard the Indians talking in their other language I had to know what was going on, so I sneaked up to the door and watched from there. Mama had left it open a bit and I could see and hear everything. The mean Indian was back, but he'd brought his whole tribe with him. There were probably about fifty Indians with big horses and bows and arrows and feathers and leathers. And Mama just stood there alone with her arms folded across her chest like she wasn't scared of them even a little bit. Mama is the bravest woman I know. And then this old old old Indian got off of his horse and walked up to Mama. He was huge. Even bigger than Papa. But his hair was silver and his skin was all crinkly. He walked up to Mama and told her he was the chief of his tribe and asked her if it was true that she hit his warrior. He pointed to the mean Indian and the mean Indian spit at Mama again. Mama just said yes and kept right on staring at the big old Indian. He asked Mama why she hit him and Mama said it was because he had been disrespectful and rude and no one should be treated like that. I thought Mama was very brave for saying that. I think I would have lied and said I didn't do it. But then I would have been whupped for lying. Mama never lies. I thought the old Indian was going to get mad. I thought Mama was in trouble for sure. I prayed that Papa would come home early so Mama would be safe. But then the old Indian reached out his hand to Mama and said thank you. Mama shook his hand. He said thank you for teaching his warrior some manners. And then he apologized that the mean Indian was so mean. Then he said something in his other language and two woman Indians came up with two huge baskets of fruits and vegetables and gave them to Mama. The mean Indian said something and the old Indian said something back that made the mean one really angry. He turned his horse around and rode away real fast. Some of the other Indians rode away too, but a lot of them got off their horses and walked up to Mama and shook her hand or bowed to her and thanked her. Mama just stood there the whole time and didn't say much. Then they all got back on their horses and left, except the old Indian. He and Mama talked quietly for a long time. When Papa and the others came back from the field the old Indian was still there. He told Papa that Mama was a good woman and he was lucky to have her. I'm going to be just like Mama when I grow up.