Not that Henry cared any more than he did about her transcendental nonsense. Nah, the cow-eyed jerk, who had a full-blown crush on Rafe’s “wife,” saw an opportunity when it hit him head on. He probably would have stood on his hands and done the polka if Helen had asked him.
First, Henry had taken to whistling in tandem with Helen as they’d ridden along. Even F. Lee snorted with disgust. Later, the horse, which must be very intelligent, rolled his eyes up at Rafe, as if pleading, “Can’t you shut the two kooks up?”
At dinner that night, Henry showed Helen how to make Indian johnnycakes on a shovel — a shovel! — over the open fire. Helen oohed and ahed as he made a hole in the middle of a pile of meal, dumped in warm water and a pinch of salt, then spooned the soft dough onto the flat shovel, putting it in the coals. You would have thought the kid had invented sliced bread.
“I can make tortillas,” Rafe said.
Helen and Henry gawked at him as if he’d said he could piss and blow smoke at the same time. He said something about needing to check on F. Lee and stomped off to feel sorry for himself.
Thinking back, Rafe had to concede that Henry had passed along a lot of interesting information as they rode, including the fact that he’d met up with Pablo, who’d been riding hard, alone, to Marysville. He’d even noticed “the unusual silk material” — their parachute — that Helen had described for him. In fact, he’d related that Pablo was using it for a tent, of all things. Apparently, he kept getting caught in the odd strings.
Pablo had tried to rob him, Henry told them, but the bandit had dropped his gun at the critical moment and shot himself in the foot. About par for Pablo, Rafe figured. With any luck, they’d catch up with the goofball bandit tomorrow when they reached Marysville.
Henry had also shared his notebooks and sketches with them, giving a nineteenth-century perspective on the history lessons Rafe and Helen already knew. Millard Fillmore had become president in July, replacing Zachary Taylor, who’d died in office. California was not yet a state, but would be soon. Federal census takers sent into the hills were estimating that more than 100,000 males, most of them in their twenties, had flooded into California over the past two years, lured by dreams of gold.
And the exciting news to those lonely men, according to Henry, was the French government’s recent decision to ship off hundreds of its incarcerated prostitutes to the California wilderness. A red-faced Henry apologized to Helen as he relayed that racy information.
Finally, Henry showed off his sketches, which were quite good. The crowded San Francisco Bay with its abandoned ships. A fiesta on a native Califomian’s rancho. The teeming streets of Sacramento City.
“Look,” Helen exclaimed then, drawing Rafe’s attention to one of Henry’s rough sketches. “It’s those foothill Indians we saw earlier today gathering flower seeds.”
“Yes, they were unique,” Henry agreed, pleased at their ‘ interest in his work. “I even wrote down the receipt for that unusual bread they make with ground flower seeds, acorns, and grasshoppers.” He searched through his notes to find the recipe.
And Helen turned outraged eyes on Rafe. “Grasshoppers? You gave me bread with grasshoppers in it?”
He shrugged. “Protein, Helen. You’re always yammering about protein and proper diet and yoga. All that granola crap.”
“Did you eat any?” she had asked.
“Are you kidding? I get my protein in a Big Mac, thank you very much.”
He smiled now. He should feel guilty, but he didn’t. Hell, she probably ate bugs all the time on her Army survival missions.
Yawning widely, he stretched and felt his eyes drooping with sleep. This horse riding and adventure stuff was tiring. He’d give it up in a flash if he wasn’t so damn poor. Just last week, he’d been forced to tell his sister Jacinta that she would have to go to grad school at a state university, instead of Loyola, because he just couldn’t afford the private tuition. And his mother’s roof leaked. And Miguel, his sister Luisa’s kid, needed braces. And Lorenzo wanted a raise.