"We'll save you some food, Sheriff. I'm sure Chu Wa'll make plenty!" Paddy called out to the retreating back. "Ah, mi Dios⁶! I forgot about Chu Wa!"

"He wanted something from the store?" Ellison asked as he signed his store account.

"No, we need to use his kitchen. I have to bake bread."

"So, use it."

Paddy began to sign for his purchases. "You don't understand, Ellison! That little ancient is thorny as a cactus when it comes to his kitchen."

He stopped, looking at the tin pot in front of him. With a sigh, he took it back to the shelves and selected the large copper one he'd rejected before as being too expensive. Bringing it to the counter, he told Taggert, "I'll take this one instead, and I'd like some saffron and mustard seed, if you have any. And what kinds of teas do you have?"

With good-byes to Mr. Taggert, they all helped load up the wagon. After eating the lunch Chu Wa had packed for them, they headed out toward the Prospect Creek Ranch so the Ellisons could pick up some things they'd need for their stay at the Chelsea that weekend.

~~~

"Nemo!" Blair shouted as the little dog scampered from the barn to greet them. The boy jumped from the wagon as it came to a stop in the yard and ran to his dog. "Hi, girl! You take care of everything while we were gone?" He petted the excited animal and hugged her to his chest. Justin came to join them, laughing when the little dog licked his face thoroughly.

"Blair!" Jim called, heading to the cabin. "We need to hurry, son. I want to get back to the Chelsea well before dusk." Both boys and dog followed, with Choate bringing up the rear after leaving the horses to drink at the trough.

They found Jim at his open trunk that sat at the end of the bed. The rancher meticulouly removed item after item, carefully setting it on the bed in front of him or the table behind him.

Justin lifted the lid on the old cigar box Jim had placed on the table. His eyes widened as he surveyed the shiny metal and ribbon mementos it held. He picked up a purple one carefully. "What are these, Uncle Jim?"

With a quick glance over his shoulder to see what the boy was talking about, Jim replied as he turned his attention back to the trunk. "Those are just my medals and such from my military service."

"That's a Purple Heart," Blair chirped with pride.

"Justin, you shouldn't touch," Paddy scolded.

"It's all right, Patrick," Jim said distractedly as he pulled the portrait he was searching for from the trunk. His brother Steven had given it to him, and a few other mementos, when he'd passed through that summer. Patrick came to stand behind him, and looked over his shoulder at the small painted portrait of a severe looking man and a comely, brown-haired woman.

"Your parents?" the younger rancher asked, the boys coming over to get a look.

"Yes." Jim rose and set the picture on the table reverently before turning back to the trunk. He came back to deposit an old pipe next to the picture before walking to the fireplace mantle.

"I need something to pack this in," he said as he gently removed the Blue Lady from her perch. He set the fragile porcelain figure next to the other items. "It was my mother's. I don't want it to break."

Justin looked critically at the dancing woman in the blue gown. "But, Uncle Jim, it's already been broken," he said, pointing to a repaired crack on the outstretched arm. He didn’t notice his young friend turn several shades of pink.

"I broke it last Christmas," Blair admitted softly.

With a small smile, Jim reached over and ruffled the boy's hair. "Yes, but a little glue put it right."

After packing up Jim's mementos and other supplies, the boys were piled back into the wagon.

"Here, Nemo!" Blair called his dog into the wagon bed. The little dog nimbly jumped in to join her master.

"Blair, Nemo needs to stay here, Son." The disappointed look on the boy's face nearly broke Jim's heart. "She'll be fine."

"But, we'll be gone for three whole days!" Blair held the little creature tightly in his arms, tears standing in his eyes.

"She has plenty of food, Little Bit--"

"Please, Papa."

Jim turned to Paddy. He knew how the rancher felt about dogs, he had similar feelings. To him they were for work, not pets.

Choate looked down at the small boy clutching the scruffy animal like a lifeline and the big blue eyes trained on both the adults.

"The first mistake she makes and it's out to the barn," he said sternly.

Blair smiled a toothy grin. "She's got great manners, Uncle Paddy! She can do some tricks, too!"

"Just keep her off the furniture," the young rancher added, settling on the wagon seat.

"Yes, sir."

Taking the reins in his hands he said very firmly, "That includes the bed."

He missed the pouts Justin and Blair threw each other. "Yes, sir," they muttered.

~~~~

Jim walked up behind the young rancher as he stood on the veranda. "Aren't you going in?"

Paddy jumped. "You're all coming with me."

Jim laughed. "He barely comes up to your chest, Patrick."

"He has a spoon, Uncle Jim," Justin said solemnly as he came up behind them.

"A big spoon," Blair confirmed from behind his friend.

"And he knows how to use it," Paddy said under his breath as he squared his shoulders and marched into the house.

Once inside, Jim watched in amusement as Paddy approached the ancient like he was a dangerous animal.

"Antiguo," the younger man said softly.

Chu Wa turned. "Master Paddy, you are back," he said, smiling as he wiped his hands on his apron.

The tiny man stopped, looking beyond Paddy at the small group hovering at the kitchen door, poised as if to flee.

"No," he said sternly as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"No, what?" Paddy asked, face all innocence.

"'No' whatever you are about to ask."

"I brought you something." Paddy pulled the bundle from behind his back.

The ancient eyed it skeptically, but took it from his employer's hands and placed it on the table.

Slowly, the old man peeled away the paper on the large copper pot. Glancing up at Paddy, the small man picked it up and turned it, the light glinting off of the highly polished surface.

"Hmm, a fine pot," Chu Wa said, noncommittally.

"I saw you looking at it the last time we were at Taggert's store."

"Yes. It is a good pot." He looked back up at Paddy and waited.

The younger man sighed heavily as he pulled out another parcel and handed it to Chu Wa.

The ancient unwrapped it carefully. Inside were packets of saffron and mustard seed, also 2 pounds of his favorite tea. He looked up again.

"What is it you want, Master Paddy?"

~~~

The tiny ancient stood in the doorway of the kitchen, hands on his hips as he scowled at the little group. "You will clean up all messes!" he said sternly.

"Yes, Chu Wa," they chorused.

The little man turned and headed towards his room.

Paddy breathed a sigh of relief and started to say something, but Jim touched his arm.

Suddenly, the old man returned. Walking over to a drawer by the sink, he opened it and withdrew his large wooden spoon.

Giving the group a final look, the ancient left the room again, taking the spoon with him.

~~~

"Okay, boys, just be careful," Jim warned as he set the last scoopful of pumpkin innards on the paper covering the area on the kitchen table. He'd never experienced Chu Wa's legendary spoon, but he took the others' apprehension of it as a warning. "And keep the mess on the paper."

Both Justin and Blair nodded, carving knives in their hands, eager to begin. Almost thirty minutes later, they lay down their knives and inspected their work.

Blair glared at his carving partner reproachfully. "The eyes are supposed to be triangles, Justin."

"Those are triangles," the older boy said tightly.

Jim stepped over to inspect the finished Jack-O-Lantern while wiping his dough covered hands on his apron. "My, that is one of the most frightful faces I've seen since Patrick told Chu Wa what we needed his kitchen for." The boys cackled, their squabble forgotten. The younger rancher mumbled something darkly, his arms elbow-deep in bread dough.

"What do we do with it now?" Justin asked after he got his laughter under control.

"We put a candle inside and set it on the porch to ward off evil spirits."

The boys followed Jim out to the veranda and watched the carved pumpkin come alive as he lighted the small candle inside.

"Does it really ward off bad spirits, Uncle Jim?" Justin whispered, both he and Blair drawing closer to the rancher.

"Well, when I was a boy, I heard a story of a man, Jack, who was good friends with the devil." Jim sat back on the veranda swing, pulling the boys to his side. "They decided to sharecrop together and split the harvest. When harvest time came they couldn't agree on how to divide the wealth."

"What'd he do, Papa?"

"Jack told the Devil, 'you take the top of the peanuts and I'll take the bottom. . .I'll take the top of the corn and you take the bottom. . .I'll take the bottom of the sweet 'taters and you, the top.' And so on, until the Devil caught on he was being hoodwinked."

"What happened then, Uncle Jim?"

Jim looked gravely at each boy before carrying on in hushed tones. "The Devil hurled a blinding light at Jack and told him he had to keep it with him always, or the demons would come to claim him. Jack never dared let that lantern go."

"And did he, Papa?"

"Did he what?"

"Let go."

Jim just smiled. "Come on boys, Patrick needs our help getting the rest of the pumpkin candied."

"Hm," Blair hurumphed as Jim led them to the door. "I think that's just a made up story. Mama and Aunt Harriet used to say that you had to turn your pockets inside out to keep evil spirits away."

Ushering the boys inside, Jim asked, "You have an aunt named Harriet?" A shiver went down his spine at the existence of a blood relative of his adopted son.

"Uh, huh. Well, she's not really my aunt. She's like Uncle Paddy. She and Mama used to work on the railroad before the war."

Jim's blood ran cold. He put a hand on Blair's shoulder, stopping him before he reached the kitchen. "This 'Aunt Harriet', was she colored like Sheriff Banks?"

"Yep. Why?"

"Nothing, Little Bit. Your mama was an amazing woman." Jim ushered them on towards the kitchen.

Entering the kitchen they were greeted by the sight of a flour and pumpkin smudged Patrick Choate.

"There you all are. We need to get this kitchen cleaned up before Chu Wa comes in to make breakfast in the morning."

Jim turned to the boys, and made a show of turning his pants pockets inside out. The boys followed suit, all howling with laughter.

Paddy stared at them as if the three had lost their minds.

~~~~

Patrick stood back from the newly completed ofrenda with a critical eye. They’d set it in the corner of the parlor his mother had used the few times they’d had Todos Santos here. It wasn't as grand or as beautiful as those from his childhood, but it was. . .sincere. The boys had worked hard most of the day making colorful paper flowers and cut-outs to decorate the arch and table. His mother's finest table linen covered the table. Candles from all over the house were gathered and added, along with some sandalwood incense donated by Chu Wa. All that had to be done now, besides the food offerings, was arrange the effects of the loved ones to be honored.

In front of his mother's portrait, Paddy laid out her heavy lace mantilla and the mother of pearl comb she always wore in her hair.

For his father, he placed the watch bob, which had decorated the pocket watch his father had since his service in H.M.S. navy, next to the photograph taken only a year before Sir Choate's death. Silently, he spoke to the elder Choate, "I know you never approved, Father, but this is important to me. And Mama never would forgive me if I didn't include you."

Then he went to help Justin, who stood in front of the ofrenda. He had just placed an ivory fan that was his mother's on the cloth-covered table. He stood back, holding something in his hand.

"Chiquito, que te pasa?"

The child opened up his fist to show Paddy what he held in his hand. It was a man's ring with an onyx stone in the center. There were tears in Justin's eyes.

Paddy smiled and plucked the ring from the child's palm, placing it next to the fan.

"It takes nothing from us, querido. We are honoring their memory. Your mother loved him very much, it is right that these be here together."

They stepped back and Jim deposited the keepsakes he brought. Blair came slowly forward, clutching the front of his shirt. He brushed by his father and slowly let go of the fabric. He reached under his collar to grasp a thin gold chain and pulled it over his head, bringing his mother's locket to rest in the palm of his hand. He opened it, revealing the tiny photo of a young woman, and set the small golden
book-shaped locket next to the Blue Lady.

He looked over the pairs of items on the gaily-decorated table and turned an embarrassed face back towards the others. "That's all I have. I. . .I don't have anything from my real father," he admitted quietly.

Jim remained quiet as he thought a moment. Suddenly, the big rancher reached into this pocket and withdrew his knife. "Stand still, Li'l Bit," he quietly told his son as he ran his hands through the back of Blair's riot of curls. "Here," he said, handing his son a lock of hair. "I saw your mother, her hair wasn't like this so you had to get it from your father."

With a huge grin on his face, Blair set the clump of hair by the locket.

Paddy broke the solemnity of the moment by picking Justin up and carrying the child over his shoulder towards the kitchen. With his passenger giggling in delight, he called back over his shoulder, "This is a celebration, not a wake! Time for the feast!"

With a shrug of his shoulders, Jim turned to Blair. "You heard the man." Quickly throwing his mirth-filled child over a broad shoulder, he followed Patrick into the kitchen.

The hours until dawn were filled with laughter; fine food and stories of loved-ones from years past. In the dawn, the boys' eyelids drooped, their smiles sagging considerably.

Hiding a yawn behind his hand, Blair asked, "Is it over now, Uncle Paddy? Or is there more?"

"Well," the young rancher began, stifling his own yawn, "when I was a boy, we would have this celebration in the cemetery, among our deceased loved-ones. The women and children would decorate the graves and have a picnic. The men and older boys would stand outside the gates and serenade us with songs. But, my parents are buried on my abeulo's rancho in Mexico."

"Mine are all back in Virginia," Jim said as he stretched like a cat.

"I have someone here," Justin whispered.

"Me, too," Blair even softer.

Jim hugged his son to his side. "Little Bit, it's almost a six hour ride out to your mama’s gravesite."

"Loren's grave is on the southwest corner of my property. It's not far past the orchard."

"Mama liked parties," Blair said, a small smile on his face. "She was a real good dancer."

Jim looked at Paddy. "From there it'd be another five hours or so further. It'd go better if we took the horses and left the wagon at home."

At that moment, Chu Wa came into the parlor from the dining room, a tray with two cups of coffee in his hands. He set it down on the end table and handed each man a steaming cup. "You will need this, and more before your journey. I will pack this feast up so you may carry it in your saddlebags."

~~~

The boys decorated Naomi's grave with the orange, red and yellow paper flowers left. They'd used mostly the animal paper-cut outs on Loren's, Justin citing those were more manly.

Jim and Paddy sat under the shady oak that stood sentry to the site, dozing, both too full of good food, and lacking sleep from their all night revelry. The boys had napped in their arms as they rode, the steady plodding of the horses' hooves rocking them to sleep. With the boys occupied, it was now their turn for a little siesta, as Paddy had put it.

Stetson pulled down over his face, Jim's muffled voice floated over to Paddy. "Thanks for including us in these festivities, Patrick. That was all mighty nice. Lots better than cleaning up after soaped windows or putting gates back on hinges."

"It's all about family," the younger rancher murmured from under his own hat.

Jim listened to the two boys running and laughing in the grassy field around them, Nemo yipping along beside them. He felt a presence on his other side, and a warmth by his cheek. He thought he heard a feminine voice whisper, "Thank you," in his ear. He turned his head in that direction, moving the Stetson so he good see. All that was there was Naomi's decorated grave, the colorful paper blanket moving slightly in the gentle breeze. He whispered back, "De nada," and settled down to nap, letting the sound of the children's joyful noise lull him to sleep.

The end

References:
The Skeleton At the Feast: The Day Of the Dead In Mexico, by Elizabeth
Carmichael.

Halloween: An American Holiday, An American History, by Lesley
Bannatyne.

Spanish phrases:

1 Flower Of the Dead
2 term of endearment
3 Todos Santos
4 sweetheart
5 Sí, chiquito, regalos Yes, little boy, presents
6 my god