A full moon hung low over Cottonwood Canyon. It was bright and clear and so very, very large in the boy’s eyes; so bright the cottonwood trees cast long shadows over the two men he watched working. In the tall branches not far from where he stood an owl hooted again and again. Night birds flitted about catching mosquitoes, making supper of those that hadn’t died from the first frost of fall. A yellow light fell through the doorway of the two room shack. Once the shack had been a schoolhouse built on a school section but the boys had moved it because they needed someplace to live and because the walls of a tent didn’t offer much protection when the winds of winter blew down from the Horn. Now they lived in it just a few yards from the boiling, swirling current of the river.
“Lou, how long are you gonna be?” The twenty year old woman spoke from the doorway, glancing first at her son.
“Not long. Hard to see. But we’re gettin’ her done.”
“Why don’t you put Red up in that tree? Let him hold the lantern. Maybe that’d help.”
Lou turned and looked at Red then back at his brother.
“Good idea, sis. Bring me that lantern.”
“Want to help, boy?”
“Ok,” the boy said. “I do.”
Lou picked Red up, all four years of him, then studied the old tree. “Now, Red, I’m gonna put you up on that limb. Once you’re up there I want you to straddle it. One leg on each side so you don’t fall out. Hear?”
“Ok. I mean yes.”
Lou smiled. “Ok, you mean yes, do you?” He lifted the boy high enough so he could crawl on to the alligatored bark of the branch then get a leg on either side. Lou stared up at him. “You all right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Not gonna fall out?”
“No, sir.”
“See that you don’t.”
Red nodded, brushing the hair from his eyes so that he could see his uncle. His mother was standing behind him with a green lantern. Lou turned to her, taking the lantern by the handle. “Thanks, sis,” he said before turning his attention to the boy in the tree.
“Now Red, I’m going to hand you this lantern. Take it by the handle and set it on the branch in front of you. That way you won’t have to hold it. Understand?”
“I do, Uncle Lou.”
“Ok. Here you go. Grab that handle.”
Red took the handle, lifted the lantern and set it on the branch in front of him. A gust of wind rattled the yellow leaves overhead. He could hear the coyotes across the river howling among themselves, running along the shelves of limestone rock, hiding in sagebrush and juniper.
“Don’t burn yourself,” Lou said to him. “I’ll have to whoop you good, you do.” The boy knew his uncle was teasing him, knew he wouldn’t lay a hand on him. Not in anger. From the tree limb he watched as Lou turned his head to look at Jess. Jess had a skinning knife in hand and was studying the carcass of the steer.
“That light better?” Lou asked.
“Much,” Jess answered. “At least we can see.” Pausing, Jess looked at the boy. “You all right, Red?”
“I am, Uncle Jess.”
“Good. Now don’t let the owl grab you and fly away with you. Might be tomorrow before we can find you. Course you’d be the only boy flyin’ around with an owl and holdin’ a lantern. So it shouldn’t be too hard.”
“No owl’s gonna get me, Uncle Jess.”
“No? All right, then.” He turned to his brother, pointing at the carcass with his knife. “Lou, I think we’ll saw off three or four steaks. Have Pearl fry them up.” Jess looked up at the boy. “You want some steak, boy?”
“I do.”
“Figured you might. What’ll you do with it?”
“I’d eat it. That’s what.”
Lou laughed. “Hard work holdin’ that lantern in the middle of the night. Keepin’ that owl company. Makes a boy hungry.”
Jess was looking at the steer again. “This’n is a nice one, Lou. Plenty of fat. Got good size. Probably a January calf. It’s been a good year for grass.”
“Think they’ll miss him?”
“Could be. Sure’s a hell of a way to get child support.”
Lou laughed, “There’s easier ways but none as tasty. Be a nice change from venison.”
Jess said, “You help me get the rest of this hide off him. But first I’ll cut some steak.”
“All right.”
Both men worked steadily, from time to time looking up at Red holding the lamp in his perch in the Cottonwood tree. Half an hour later they finished skinning the steer.
“How you holdin’ out, Red?” Lou said.
“Ok.”
“Just Ok?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You hungry?
“Yes, Sir. I am.”
“Well hand me that lantern. I’ll lift you down and you can run inside and get your Ma to give you some biscuits, gravy, and a hunk of meat. How’s that sound?”
“That sounds fine.”
Lou took the lantern from the boy and set it on the ground. Then he lifted Red from the limb, standing him on his feet. “Run inside, Red. Go on.”
But the boy stood and watched his uncles. He watched Jess spread the green hide on the ground and he watched both men look for rocks, stacking them in the center of the fresh hide. Forty pounds later Lou wrapped the hide around the stack of rocks and tied it. With the hide in hand he walked to the edge of the river bank and gave it a toss into the swirling current. When he returned Jess was drying his hands on the ends of a ragged towel. Both men looked at the carcass hanging in the tree.
“Reckon that’ll last a while.” Lou said.
“Ought to, if we can keep the coyotes away from it.”
“We’d better hang it a little higher if we expect to have any left come mornin’. Then we can finish cuttin’ him up. ”
Jess glanced at his taller sibling. “I don’t know about you, little brother, but my belly is thinkin’ someone done cut my throat. Let’s eat first.”
Both looked at Red standing silently watching them. “What you doin’?” Lou asked. “Thought I told you to go inside.”
“Nothin.’”
“Well nothin’, let’s get to eatin’. What do you say?”
“Ok.” Red said. His mother watched him from the door.
The moon had climbed above the canyon and caught the edge of a floating cloud. The shadows were shorter, dimmer. The north bench was darker. The moon didn’t appear so big now. Just a normal, average moon, a witness to a family of river rats stocking up for the winter, living at the river’s edge in a two room shack on the north side of Sheep Canyon.
