And to the divine Ms. M (enthusiastic waves to Melanie, whose stories we adore by the way) who covered our papers with red ink! (and made it better!)

We couldn't have done it without you guys!

Cookies
by Klair and BCW
June 23, 1998

***

Ellison stood next to Sentry and watched as Choate reluctantly saddled his own horse, periodically casting a wary look back at the two boys who stood watching them from the porch.

"They'll be all right," he said for the third time.

"They're too young to be left alone."

"We won't be gone that long, Choate. They'll be fine. Blair knows what to do. We've done this before."

Paddy glanced back again.

Jim chuckled as he swung up into the saddle. "We're burning daylight, mi amigo. You want these horses or not?"

The younger man actually growled in frustration.

"The quicker we get goin', the quicker we get back," Jim reasoned.

Finally, Patrick Choate pulled himself into the saddle of his mount. Turning around one more time, he said, "Maybe I should--" The end of the sentence cut off by the sharp slap Jim gave to his horse's rump.

The animal startled, snorted at the high-handed treatment, and pranced off towards the front gate.

"Bye, boys," Jim called back to the two children. "We'll be back before sunset."

"Bye, Paddy." Justin waved.

"Bye, Papa," Blair said at the same time.

Blair waited until their guardians were out of sight before turning to his older friend.

"What do you want to do now? I got my chores done before you came."

Justin followed his companion back into the house, the entire room fragrant from the chicken and dumplings Jim had simmering in a pot on the stove.

"Want to go down by the river and catch polywogs?" Blair asked, rocking on his heels.

Young Evers began wandering the room. "No, it's too cold."

"We could play hide-and-seek," blue-eyes lit with excitement, " or better yet, let's be a posse chasing an outlaw gang!"

With a gleam in his eye, Justin raced his young friend out the door calling back over his shoulder, "You'll never take me alive, Hickok!"

After a half-hour of hard play, the two sweaty boys threw themselves down on the porch.

Without preamble, he announced, "I'm hungry."

"Justin, you're always hungry!" young Ellison chuckled, shaking his head.

"You think your father would mind if we took one cookie?"

Blair shook his head sadly. "They're all gone."

"Gone? Isn't there anything to eat?"

"There're biscuits...dried fruit...jerky."

"No." Justin frowned, shaking his head at each offering. "I had a taste for cookies. Sugar, you know, like Chu Wah makes."

Blair sighed heavily. "Papa doesn't make cookies."

"But they're easy! I've watched Chu Wa do it a hundred times! I bet we could make them!"

"I don't know, Justin--" Blair said warily.

"Aww, come on," Evers said, pulling his friend to his feet. "I made Paddy a birthday cake! Cookin' is fun!"

Once inside, Justin surveyed the front corner of the cabin that held the Ellison's small oven.

"Hmm, your oven's different from ours."

"I know how to make it up. Papa lets me make his coffee in the morning."

"Great! You get the oven lit and I'll get the ingredients together."

The boys set to work, Blair bringing in firewood and lighting the oven, and Justin rummaging through the small pantry for everything they'd need for cookies. After Blair got the fire going, he joined Justin by the table to see what he'd found.

He listened to the older boy take inventory. "Flour, sugar, vinegar, big bowl and spoon, salt, lard, rolling pin, a cup for measuring, vanilla. Hmm, we need eggs and baking powder."

"I can get the eggs from the coop," Blair said, moving over to paw through the cabinets under the sink counter. He returned with a small tin can. "All I could find was this. I've seen Papa use this when he makes biscuits. Maybe it'd work?"

"Baking soda." Justin read and shrugged. "It says baking. Don't see why not."

When Blair returned with the eggs, Justin had begun to put the ingredients together.

"What are you doing?" Blair asked, in a near panic at the mess on the table.

"Cookin'. Why?" Justin asked, rubbing his nose with a floured hand, leaving some of the white powder behind.

Blair stared wide-eyed at the table, flour, sugar and other ingredients spilled across the top. "It looks like a tornado's been through here. Papa doesn't cook like this."

"My cooking always looks like this," Justin replied, guilessly as he wiped still more flour on his face.

"But you've got Chu Wa to clean up after you! Papa's gonna kill us."

"Don't worry so much, Blair," his friend said, taking the eggs from his hands and cracking them into the bowl. "We'll have it cleaned up before they get back." The older boy pulled at the spoon, trying to extricate it from the sticky mixture in the bowl to begin stirring in the eggs, and misjudged his own strength.

The huge spoon popped free, sending Justin off-balance. The small boy teetered precariously on one foot for a moment.

"Justin!" Blair cried, taking a step forward to reach for his friend. As he did, his foot slipped in the batter on the floor and sent him crashing into the child he'd intended to save.

Blair's added momentum caused Justin to lose his grip on the bowl. It went flying high up in the air.

On their way down, the boys overturned everything on the table. The flour entered the air in a thick white cloud. Seconds later, salt and sugar drifted through the flour cloud like snow. The bottle of vinegar spun twice before it tipped over into the can of baking soda. The only things that remained upright on the table were the tub of lard and bottle of vanilla.

"Blair, look out!" Justin cried and the boys rolled out of the way just as the big bowl crashed to the ground, spattering them and the room with its contents.

Both boys slowly sat up, rubbing sticky goo from their eyes.

"Oh, no," Justin breathed as he surveyed the damage.

Blair's reply was a little more succinct.

Just then, the boys heard a hiss and a rumble.

"What????" they both cried in unison, just as the mixture of vinegar and baking soda erupted from the metal tin with the power of a tiny volcano.

They stood long moments, mouths gaping in horror as they watched the show before Justin had the presence of mind to put the bowl over the spewing can. For several minutes sputtering was heard from beneath it, foaming goo oozing from under the rim, then all was quiet.

Blair looked around the house in astonishment. The home his father insisted be kept meticulously clean, lay in shambles. At least the mess was relatively contained to the front of the cabin where the table and kitchen area were. A fine mist of flour hung in the air, settling where it would. The acrid smell of vinegar reached his nose.

He sighed heavily in defeat. "We're gonna get it. We're gonna get blessed out good and then we're--"

"Going to get this place cleaned up so they never know what happened," Justin said with determination. "Now where do you keep the broom and mop."

Shaking off his doom and gloom attitude, Blair got out the required items and they went to work. They swept up most of the dry ingredients, disposing of them down the outhouse to hide the evidence. They washed the utensils and put back the remaining ingredients. Justin had almost finished mopping the floor, and Blair dusting the furniture, when they heard the sound of riders approaching.

They froze, looking at the mess that still cover each other.

"What do we do?" Justin wailed, jumping up and down on one foot.

"I don't know!" Blair wailed back.

"Maybe we should hide."

"No! That'll only make it worse. Trust me," Blair said, pushing his tangled hair from his eyes.

The sound of boots on the porch reached the two, near-panicked boys. They looked at each other with expressions of dread as the door swung open.

~~~

"What the blazes is going on here?" Jim said in disbelief as he entered his home, taking in the sight that greeted him. Justin stood with a mop in his hand with Blair behind him with the duster. Both boys had what looked like thick flour paste encrusted in their hair and all over their clothes. He wrinkled his nose at the trace of vinegar in the air. The boys said nothing, only stood there with big, sad eyes. Jim felt Choate come up behind him, the taller, younger man looked past his shoulder.

"¡Y que? ¿Que ha pasado? ¡Caray ! ¡Y que Dios me asista! ¡Mire ese lío! ¡Haré tu nalgas caliente como el fuego!"

Jim noticed Justin blanche even paler. He took charge.

"That's enough, Choate." The soft, stern words silenced the Spaniard long enough for Jim to say to the boys in that same tone, "Choate and I are going to the barn to put the horses up. I expect you to have finished cleaning this place by the time we get back and to have an explanation for what happened here."

Not waiting for a sign of compliance from the boys, Jim took Choate by the arm and hustled him out to the barn, the younger man sputtering in Spanish the whole way, obviously livid.

¿Por qué me paraste? ¡Le dije que fueran demasiado jóvenes permanecer a casa solos!"

Jim smiled to himself. "In English, mi amigo," he said softly.

Choate halted in mid-tirade and took a deep breath. "Did you see that mess, Ellison? What were we thinking, leaving them alone?! And they lit the stove! They could've set the house afire!" he ranted as he paced back and forth in front of his companion.

Jim took a breath himself. While far less-than-happy about the state in which he found his home, or son, in. A little flour on the floor and in the hair was far from life threatening. Blair disobeying him by lighting the stove when he was away was a different matter.

"No, they wouldn't have. Blair's made up the oven many times before. He knows how to do it, but he's not supposed to while I'm away. I'll deal with him for that. The mess, well, let's wait to hear what they have to say before getting too worked up."

The younger man stopped pacing and stared at Jim, wide-eyed. "How can you be so calm?"

"I'm trying to put this into perspective, Choate. I know you're thinking of what might have happened, but it didn't."

The younger man drew in a deep breath in, filling his lungs fully, and released it in a heavy sigh. "You think I'm overreacting?"

"I think we need to reserve judgement until we've heard their side."

Choate nodded his head in reluctant agreement. The men saw to the horses, taking their time to give the boys a chance to complete Jim's directive and to calm themselves down.

Walking slowly back to the cabin, the two men stopped at the open doorway. Blair and Justin halted in the act of putting their cleaning elements away. The cabin had been returned to its original state. The only evidence of their 'adventure' being their own state of disarray.

"Are you ready to explain yourselves?" Jim said sternly. He moved to the stand over his son with his arms crossed, Choate mirroring the same stance with Justin.

The boys looked at each other, hoping the other would go first. Jim made the decision for them.

"Blair, what happened here?"

With one more silent plea to this cohort, Blair began, "Well, we just wanted to make some cookies and Justin said he knew how Chu Wa did it and I know how to do the oven, but we spilled a bit and then the volcano exploded--"

Jim put up a hand. "The what exploded?"

"The volcano," Justin chimed in. "It was amazing. The vinegar fell into the baking soda and -- whoosh!"

Choate frowned. "Whoosh?"

Both boys nodded enthusiastically.

Jim covered his face with his hand a moment and Paddy quickly turned away.

The children panicked.

"We didn't mean to make a mess."

"No, Paddy! It was fine at first!"

"Then Justin lost his balance and I tried to help him."

"And Blair slipped on something on the floor."

"And I fell into him."

"And the bowl went up into the air," Justin said, demonstrating with his hands.

"And somehow the sugar flew--"

"And the flour --"

"Yeah, I forgot the flour."

"And the bowl came down--"

"It almost hit us in the head."

"Yeah, we barely rolled away in time."

"But it didn't break," he said hurriedly.

"No, it didn't break."

"But it splashed all over everything."

"That's where the biggest mess came from."

"Then the volcano went whoosh," the curly-haired imp finished.

"Whoosh,"his dark-haired accomplice verified.

The two men stood frozen in place, staring down at them. Finally, Jim blinked several times and drew in a breath behind his hand covering his face.

"You boys go down to the pump by the corral and wash up. Choate and I need to talk," he said in a strangled voice.

After the two boys slammed the door behind them as they scurried to obey, Jim threw himself into the armchair and howled with laughter.

"Ellison! This is serious!" Choate said sternly, his hands on his hips as he glared at his friend.

Jim only shook his head and laughed harder.

"You are not helping!"

The big rancher chortled helplessly, until he managed to choke out, "Whoosh," waving his arms in the air.

Choate gasped, then joined his companion in impotent laughter until tears ran down his face.

Jim finally brought himself under control enough to ask, "So, what do you want to do about this?"

~~~

Twenty minutes later, two very sad-looking young boys appeared at the door. Both were soaking wet, but clean, their clothes clung to them in a sodden mess and their hair. . .their hair was slickly plastered to their heads where it didn't stick up in spikes. They both looked like drowned rats.

Both men had to bite the insides of their cheeks to keep from bursting into laughter again.

"Come here, Blair," Jim said, as sternly as he could manage.

The boy hesitated one second before coming forward. "I'm sorry, Papa," he said softly.

Choate sat in one of the straight-backed chairs at the kitchen table. "You come here too, chiquito."

Justin's eyes immediately began to sparkle as he shuffled to his guardian. "You're going to spank me, Paddy?" he asked pitifully.

Choate and Ellison took the boys to stand between their knees.

Paddy raised a brow and asked sternly, "Give me a reason why I shouldn't."

Poor Justin could only come up with one reason why not, and he was certain that reason would bear no weight with his guardian.

He started to cry. "I'm sorry, Paddy."

"Me too," Blair chimed in, tears begining their descent down his face.

Choate addressed Justin with a soft, but firm, voice. "I know you are, chiquito, but you should have thought it through."

"We just wanted cookies."

"And you should've waited."

Blair tried to come to their defense. "But Papa doesn't bake cookies."

"You still should've waited, boys," Jim said firmly, giving Blair a little shake. "Suppose something had happened to you two?"

"Something?" Justin sniffed, turning his head to look at Jim.

Paddy took hold of Justin's chin and turned the teary-eyed boy back to face him. "Suppose there had been a fire?"

"Blair knew how to light the stove."

"But, sometimes, there are things that happened even to adults, chiquito."

"We were careful," Blair whined.

"And that's why the room was such a wreck?" Jim interjected.

That statement started a new fit of tears from both boys.

Justin wiped his sleeve across his eyes. "We cleaned it up."

"And if you hadn't disobeyed, you wouldn't have had to," Choate scolded, drawing Justin in closer.

"But I didn't, Paddy--"

"I told you to behave, hijito. And our house rules apply no matter where you are. You ask first. And you didn't."

"I won't do it again! I promise!" Justin said solemnly.

Blair joined in with, "Neither will I, Papa!"

Choate drew his penitent child into his lap. "Shhh, hijito," he soothed, running his fingers through the matted hair. "Estas bien."

Jim shook his head, then he, too, brought Blair closer for a hug. "All right, Little Bit. I believe you. Now go change your clothes andlend some to Justin . You're both sopping wet! After that, go get a comb so I can clean up this rat's nest. Get one for Choate, too. And after we're done, you boys can think over your actions while standing in the corner until we say otherwise. But understand this." Jim paused to make sure he had Blair's attention. He raised an admonishing finger and shook it while he spoke. "If anything like what happened today ever happens again, you'll find yourself over my knee so fast it'll make your head spin."

Blair nodded solemnly. "Yes, sir."

Choate gave Justin a little shake before firmly saying, "That goes for you too, chiquito."

"Yes, sir," Justin replied, nodding also.

After just ten minutes of tedious hair combing, accompanied by tangle pulling, both boys thought they'd have been better off with a spanking.

"Ow, Paddy! Don't pull so hard," Justin whined yet again, blinking back tears.

"I'm doing the best I can, chiquito. Just a bit more and we're done."

"That's what you said the last time!"

"Well, it's even more true now. Now be still so it doesn't pull so much."

"Blair settle down. You're jumpy as a Junebug, child."

"I can't help it. It hurts!" Blair all but sobbed.

"I'm sorry, Little Bit, but if we don't get these snarls out now, by morning I'm afraid all you'll have left of hair is a huge mat. I'm being as gentle as I can."

"Ow!" Blair cried.

Jim stopped for a moment, exasperated. "Blair, I don't want to hurt you. If we can't get these out then I might have to cut your hair."

"No!! I want my hair like Wild Bill Hickok's!"

"I know, but--"

"I'll be still, Papa. I can do it. Please don't cut my hair."

"All right, Little Bit, I won't. Just bear with me here so we can get this over with."

After twenty more minutes of the tear-producing procedure, the boys stood sulking and sniffling in front of their guardians.

"There now. All done," Jim soothed while rocking Blair gently in his embrace.

Choate offered similar reassurances to Justin.

The men went about getting the meal ready and when they were seated at the table, they called the boys from their corners. Two very contrite children slid into their chairs and said nothing as their plates were filled. Jim and Paddy exchanged glances.

Putting the full plate in front of Blair, Jim asked, "Cat got your tongue, Little Bit?"

"I really have learned my lesson, Papa. Am I forgiven?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, imp, you're both forgiven." Jim touseled his son's hair. Hoping to brighten the boys' mood, he said, "Say, how would you boys like to help me make my mama's secret recipe for apple brown betty when we're through?"

The two boys hesitated, their eyes sliding towards one another as the contemplated their response.

"That would be fine, Papa," Blair said at last.

"Yes," Justin answered, hesitantly.

Ellison eyed the two critically. "But?" he prompted.

"No, buts, Papa," Blair said quickly as he looked back at his young friend. "Only, Justin and I were wondering if we could try the cookies again. This time with your help."

The big rancher looked at the two small faces watching him with excited hopefulness. Glancing over to Choate for help, he had to stifled another fit of laughter at the longing in the younger man's face at the mention of cookies. Apparently, the big rancher was on his own on this.

What could he do in the face of such opposition?

"All right," he said, capitulating.

The boys were too busy cheering to listen to the rest of what he said, but Choate almost fell off his chair in a renewed fit of laughter when Jim muttered, "Just as long as they don't go -- whoosh!"

The end.