Aunt Theodora’s Goodbye by goldieasj

#3 in the Aunt Theodora series

Word count: 6448

Aunt Theodora had a train ticket.

Wanting to be absolutely sure that Aunt Theodora did in fact possess a ticket that would take her far far away from Lancer, Johnny grabbed it from her hand.  He turned it over several times, lovingly running his fingers along the words and numbers on the heavy paper, particularly the word “Boston.”  “Yeah, this is a train ticket to Boston, all right,” he announced with a smile.

She snatched it back from him.  “Of course it is, Jonathan!  Don’t be obtuse.”

Johnny was fairly certain he’d been insulted, but he didn’t mind because Aunt Theodora had a one-way ticket to Boston!

“Daphne was very generous to send it to you,” Scott put in kindly.  “I remember the two of you were always good friends.”

“Yes, Daphne is a dear old friend,” Aunt Theodora said.  “Although,” she said, turning to Johnny and frowning, “she can also be somewhat obtuse at times as well.”

“I’m sure you meant to say astute,” Scott hastily replied.

“Hmmm.”  Aunt Theodora had already changed the subject in her mind.  “How long will it take us to travel to San Francisco to pick up the train?”

“Us?” said Johnny.

“Just a couple of days,” Scott answered.  “Or possibly one or two more.  Depends on our mode of transportation.  I imagine you prefer the stage, Aunt Theodora?”

“Us?” Johnny repeated.

“Naturally I prefer the most comfortable mode of travel for myself, Scotty.  What do you suggest?”

“Aunt Theodora, I strongly suggest the stagecoach.  Although it’s not a perfect method of transport, you’ll be much more comfortable this way than by wagon or horseback.  And you’ll still be able to take your luggage, which will be tied to the roof of the stage.”

“Us?” Johnny insisted.

Both Scott and Aunt Theodora turned toward Johnny.  “Of course we will all be going, Jonathan.  You certainly don’t think I would make such a turbulent journey alone, do you?”

“Theodora,” Johnny said, “I don’t think you really need me.  Scott can go with you by himself.  I mean, these roads are safe.  And Scott’s a big boy;  he can protect you.”

Aunt Theodora crossed her arms.  “And just why would I need protection if these roads are safe, Jonathan?  I’m certain the road is filled with bandits and highwaymen of all kinds.  I will want Scott for moral support and you as well, Jonathan, as you seem to know how to use your pistol.”

“Theodora . . . “

“And, in addition, I will want Murdoch along.  I feel three strong men to protect me will be sufficient.”

“Murdoch?” said Scott and Johnny at the same time.

---

As it turned out, Aunt Theodora had to make do with two strong men to protect her.  Murdoch explained to her very nicely that with his sons absent, he would have to run the entire ranch by himself even though he was of course very sorry that he couldn’t come along, and then he explained to his sons privately and sternly that they would both be escorting Aunt Theodora to the train station in San Francisco and seeing her get safely on the train and when Johnny opened his mouth to say something, Murdoch pulled rank and flatly stated that the subject was closed, and it was.

---

There were, as Aunt Theodora had predicted, many bandits and highwaymen who threatened their stagecoach ride, but, luckily, they seemed to be only in Aunt Theodora’s mind (and incessant chatter).  Scott’s eyes rolled coach-ceilingward a few times, but Johnny sat with a quiet smile on his face and listened patiently because Aunt Theodora had a train ticket to Boston.

But then, at one stop, a young man with a valise came aboard and sat across from Aunt Theodora.  He tipped his hat to her as he sat down and placed his case on his lap.  She was of course suspicious and did not smile.  Johnny, now sitting next to the man, said “Howdy.”  The young man rewarded Johnny’s kindness with a wide smile and nod before he settled in and looked out the window.

Aunt Theodora frowned and whispered “Scotty” to get her great-nephew’s attention.

“Mmmm?”

“Scotty!  Look at that man  –  that’s a highwayman if ever I saw one!”

Scott smiled.   “No, I hardly think so, Aunt Theodora.  Look how well-dressed he is.”

“Look how anemic he looks.  He hasn’t eaten for ages.  He’s desperate.  I’ll bet that case of his is full of firearms and ammunition.  He’s just waiting for us to nod off during the ride and then he’ll strike!”

“Actually, I think that’s a peddler’s case.  He probably hasn’t had much luck selling lately, I expect.”

“Peddler – huh!  That case is perfect for carrying all his weapons!”

“No, Aunt Theodora, I think you’re on the wrong track there.”

“Oh, you do, do you?  Well, let’s just find out!”

Aunt Theodora rapped the young man on the knee with her pink parasol.  “You!  You there!  Are you a peddler or not?  Speak up!”

The young man seemed to have been waiting for this cue;  he tore his view from the window and settled it on Aunt Theodora’s disapproving glare.  Another big smile came to his face and he answered her animatedly, “Why, yes ma’am, I am.  I surely am!  How astute of you.  My name is Lester Moore. My motto is ‘Pay less, get more.’  ‘Pay Les. Get Moore.’  Get it?”  With that, he tipped his hat and winked.  “This is the quality company I represent!”  He removed the valise from his lap and turned it so the company name on the side could be seen by everyone.  On the valise, it read ‘Hug ‘em, Madam.’

Aunt Theodora squinted to read.  “Hug ‘em, Madam?  Now what on earth does that mean?”

“I’m much glad you asked!”  Lester Moore’s smile was so wide and he became so animated that Johnny had to struggle to keep his seat.  “Let me just demonstrate my product for you, ma’am, as indeed my little product is designed for the woman of quality, just as yourself!”

Lester Moore opened his case to Aunt Theodora’s scowl disappearing at the timely reminder that she was in fact a woman of quality.  But when he removed his wares from the case, the scowl came back in spades.

Lester held up a contraption that might have been an article of clothing or might have been a clothesline or might have been . . .

“Hey!  Is that what I think it is?”  Johnny pointed and laughed.

“Indeed it is, sir,” Lester replied, mightily happy with Johnny’s recognition.  “One of the greatest inventions ever known to that most distinguished institution of grand womanhood.  The backbone, you could even say, supporting the sisterhood in their every need in their every hour.  I am holding the most elegant, the most glamorous . . .”

Aunt Theodora snapped her fingers.  “Don’t flatter yourself, Mr. Moore.  You are holding nothing more than a common corset!”

Lester feigned great distress.  “Common?  Oh, hardly, madam.  Not common!  Hug ‘em, Madam Corsets are designed for the ultimate feminine expression reserved for only such august grand-dames as yourself.  The quality of workmanship . . .”

“Myself!”  Aunt Theodora was outraged.  “Surely, Mr. Moore, you can clearly see that I have no such need for something as . . . unnecessary . . . as a corset!”

Both Scott and Johnny did not have to look to know that they would not be able to see what was clear to Aunt Theodora. 

But Lester Moore, always the salesman, managed the enviable act of being apologetic and enthusiastic at the same time.  He waved his free hand to and fro and said, “No, no, no.  Of course not, madam!  Certainly it was not such a fine lady as yourself, whose composition can only be described as quite naturally perfect, to whom I was referring!  Heavens no to the very idea!  Why, I was of course merely suggesting that you may know several dear but less . . . physically fortunate . . . acquaintances who might in fact benefit from what I am offering.  At very fair-minded prices, of course.”

Well, this changed everything.  “Hmm,” said Aunt Theodora, removing the suddenly-unobjectionable garment from Mr. Moore’s offering hands and examining it.  She turned it over a couple of times, toying with the laces, saying “Hmm” a couple times, and admiring the silk rococo roses.

“I’ll take it!” Aunt Theodora announced.

Scott’s eyebrows raised.  Aunt Theodora turned to him and said, “Not for me, of course, Scotty.  I’m merely thinking of Daphne.  She has been getting a bit . . . richer . . .in some areas in the last couple of years.”

“Of course, Aunt Theodora,” Scott answered.  “I was certain that’s who you had in mind.”  Scott looked at Johnny and Johnny looked at him, and everybody in that stagecoach was in a good frame of mind, particularly Lester Moore, who found consummate pleasure in fingering the two dollar bills he had just acquired.

---

Lester Moore departed the stagecoach one stop shy of San Francisco, where he would presumably ply his not particularly fair-mindedly priced wares to the unsuspecting but perfect ladies of that town whose friends were all fat.

For a quick rest stop, Johnny helped Aunt Theodora from the coach and then detained Scott to speak with him for a second.

“Scott, you saw the name of that company?”

“I saw it.”

“I mean, if you take out those commas and things, what you’ve got is . . .”

“I know.  Huge Madam.”

---

Johnny, being Johnny, grabbed the key to the first hotel room and threw himself on the thick satin bedspread.  Aunt Theodora and Scott watched from the doorway with bemusement.  “This is where I want to spend the rest of my life – right here on this bed,” Johnny said, burying his face in the silk pillowcase.

“Well, don’t get too comfortable, brother.  I have plans.”

Johnny looked up.  Somehow a rat had gotten into his daydream and it was stinky.  “What?”

“See that tub in the corner?  I have ordered a bath for you – I’ve ordered one for each of us, in fact – and in a few minutes you will be lounging in decadently warm waters, soaking each tired muscle in bath salts designed expressly for the purpose of massaging those stagecoach-sore . . . “

“I get it, Scott.  You don’t have to sell me.  I’ll be waiting right here when that bath water comes.”

“Good, Johnny.  And afterward . . . Well, you’ll see.  Come, Aunt Theodora, let’s find our rooms.”  Scott and Aunt Theodora turned to head down the hall.

“Wait!  And afterward – what?” Johnny called after them.

“I’m sure you’ll like the tuxedo I ordered for you, Johnny;  it too will arrive shortly,” Scott called over his shoulder.  “Because after dinner, we’re all going to the opera!”

---

“Hell, no, I’m not going to any opera!”  The smoked brie, the salmon with horseradish cream sauce, and the cauliflower steaks with hazelnuts were finished; the treacle tart was mere crumbs.  Johnny’s speech was being needlessly repeated.

Aunt Theodora slapped Johnny on his arm with her folded fan.  “Don’t be obtuse, Jonathan, of course we’re all going to the opera.  Now, Scotty, you’ve been promising to tell me all afternoon who we are going to hear sing, and I simply cannot wait a moment longer to hear!”  Johnny was about to say something else, but Aunt Theodora slapped him again.

Smiling, Scott answered, “When I went out earlier, Aunt Theodora, I managed to find aisle seats in the sixteenth row to see . . . brace yourself . . . none other than Luisa Tetracyclini!”

The offensive fan fell to the floor as overcome Aunt Theodora grasped her great-nephew’s arm.  “Oh, Scotty, you can’t mean it?  How lucky we are!  However did you get tickets to see Luisa Tetracyclini in ‘Don Giovanni?’  Such a wonderful opera, and I’ve been wishing for years to hear the great diva sing.”

Scott snickered.  “Your great-nephew has a few tricks up his sleeve!”

“Great nephew indeed!” Aunt Theodora gushed.  “How wonderful! Diva Tetracyclini is nothing less than world-class, I hear.  Oh dear, I hope I don’t swoon.”

Johnny hoped so as well.  He plucked the fallen fan from the floor, snapped it open, and handed it back to Aunt Theodora.  “Here, maybe this will help.  But I still don’t want to go to the opera.”  Aunt Theodora grabbed the fan and slapped him again.

“Bear with me here, brother.  I’d like to see you immersed in a little culture,” Scott said. “Give the opera a try, Johnny, and maybe you’ll find you even like it.  Plus think of all those beautiful, rich, well-dressed ladies you’ll see there! And besides, you look rather elegant in that tuxedo. Or, as you once called me . . . pretty!”

“Nonsense!” said Aunt Theodora.

---

Dinner had included different wines with each course, and Scott had wisely decided that they walk in the fresh air rather than take a cab to the opera.  Aunt Theodora’s complaint that the opera was an entire two blocks away fell on Scott’s deaf ears, ears made deafer possibly by several bottles of wine, and so the trio walked.

Johnny’s ears, and especially Johnny’s eyes, were alert.  He wasn’t worried about possible gunslingers showing up to threaten him.  No, Johnny was tuning in to all the enticing sights and sounds San Francisco at night had to offer.  Especially the sight of the RODS, the Real Opera and Dance Showhouse, a honky-tonk conveniently right next door to the actual  real opera they had tickets for.

Aunt Theodora saw it also and pointed out to her great-nephews the appalling lack of careful neighborhood planning.  “Just look at that young woman floozie in there beckoning us to actually enter that raucous establishment!  How dare she!  We are Garretts!”  She had been walking arm-in-arm with her great-nephews and realized that one arm was suddenly great-nephewless. 

Johnny’s arm was the wayward one, needless to say, as he responded as well as he could to the young woman floozie who was indeed beckoning to him from inside the rowdy establishment through the open door.  The tinny music appealed to his ears and the strap holding up her saucy pink dress on the left side had slipped down and what he saw (which wasn’t her dress) appealed to his eyes.  But both Aunt Theodora’s arms became free as Scott used his arm to grab Johnny’s tuxedo.

“Later, Johnny,” Scott whispered loudly to his brother, “after we’ve put Aunt Theodora on the train tomorrow.”

There hadn’t been quite enough wine ingested to obliterate Johnny’s common sense, so he acquiesced to his brother’s forceful request.  As he once again linked Aunt Theodora’s arm in his, he stole one last look at the young woman floozy inside RODS and practically felt the wet kiss she threw in his direction.

Scott grabbed him again.

---

As they walked down the aisle on the way to their seats at the opera, Aunt Theodora was clearly in her element. This fact was made apparent by her comments of approval.  “Oh, Scotty, isn’t this atmosphere just heavenly?  Surely, Jonathan, you cannot escape feeling all this culture enfold you.  Oh, look at that woman’s jewelry;  she is simply dripping in diamonds!  And the draperies are such an elegant shade of crimson;  I would expect nothing less.”

And disapproval.  “Do you see that man’s tuxedo?  It’s maroon, for Heaven’s sake!  Maroon!  I simply don’t know how he managed to slip in.”

The usher ushed them to the sixteenth row and held out his arm invitingly to direct them to the three closest seats and Scott held out his arm invitingly for Johnny to step in first, and Johnny held out his arm  insistently for Scott to go in first. Since Johnny had been cooperative so far, Scott decided not to wonder why Johnny preferred sitting on the aisle.  He stepped in, followed by Aunt Theodora.  And Johnny did indeed take the aisle seat.

And when the curtain went up and the music and the singing started, Aunt Theodora was in seventh heaven.  Scott enjoyed the performance as well, although perhaps not quite as much as his aunt. And Johnny tried – he really did try – to find some measure of appreciation for the vocalistic efforts of the people on the stage and the people down below the stage who were playing musical instruments but those instrument-players were all playing at the same time! and those singers weren’t singing in English, or at least he didn’t think so, and everything was so annoyingly loud!

At some point several days later, it all stopped and everyone clapped and Scott announced the welcome break as something called an intermission and Aunt Theodora sighed and said she hadn’t enjoyed herself so much in a long time and Johnny asked if it was time to leave.

“No,” said Scott.  “This is just the intermission.  It gives everyone a chance to stretch their legs.  And this is the point that either you or I venture to the lobby to purchase something to drink for the three of us.  Aunt Theodora, would you care for an orange juice?”

“No, Scotty, thank you,” said Aunt Theodora as she tapped him softly on the knee with her fan.  “I think, under the circumstances, that I would prefer a crème de cacao.”  She giggled.

Scott giggled too.  “I understand.  Johnny, you’re on the aisle –  would you do the honors?  I’ll take a juice.”

“Yeah,” said Johnny.  “I’ll go.  A juice for you, Scott, and a . . . uh . . . krem duh coco for Theodora.”  Johnny left for the lobby, not understanding what it was that Scott understood or why he giggled, of all things, and not understanding anything of what he had just heard from the stage and not understanding how anything could last so long but definitely understanding that he wasn’t having a good time like everyone else here was.  Or were pretending to.

Johnny lingered in the lobby as long as he could and complimented the man in the maroon tuxedo on his taste in clothes and finally purchased the drinks when the crowd started thinning.  He brought them back to Aunt Theodora, who couldn’t understand what had taken him so long and to Scott, who understood perfectly.

Then it all started again.  All the stuff that had been going on before and it was all happening all over again!  Scott and Aunt Theodora once again seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Johnny was not.

---

When it was all over, everyone in the crowd was enthusiastic in their approval of the opera they had just experienced.  Scott and Aunt Theodora also stood and applauded.  They heard and even contributed a few “bravo”s themselves.  But one person who did not stand or approve or applaud or “bravo” was Johnny. 

Johnny wasn’t there.

---

Both Scott and Aunt Theodora were fairly certain they knew where Johnny was – RODS, the sleazy “music” joint next door.

“I’m afraid Jonathan’s baser impulses got the better of him,” Aunt Theodora said sadly.

“I couldn’t have put it better myself,” Scott said, with a lot more madness than sadness. 

“Such a beautiful opera.  He would have learned so much from its cultural effect.”

“Frankly, I’m surprised he sat through the first act,” Scott said.  “Well, I’d better go get him, or he won’t be up in time tomorrow to say goodbye before you board the train.”

Scott escorted Aunt Theodora to the lobby of the opera house and suggested she stay there while he went into that raucous establishment next door to rescue Johnny from all the bad influences that were no doubt assaulting him.

---

It took Scott a while to find his brother in RODS.  Unbeknownst to him, Johnny had stepped out the back door to have a conversation (etc.) with the young woman floozie whose saucy pink strap just wouldn’t stay in place.  Apparently, she had a lot to say because the two of them just did not seem to be coming back inside.  Scott had to ask around in RODS if anyone had seen his brother but no one seemed to have.  It wasn’t until he remembered to point out that Johnny was wearing a tuxedo before Scott found someone who directed him to the rear door.  When he stepped out into the yard behind RODS, he saw Johnny right away, facing a tree, with a pink satin dress hidden between him and the tree.  Johnny saw him too but ignored his brother because he was struggling to get that errant dress strap back in place, or something like that, and that seemed to be consuming all his attention.

“Johnny!”

“Later, Scott.”

“Johnny!!”

The young woman floozie at this point noticed Scott.  “Hello, handsome,” she said, peeking around Johnny.

“Hello . . . uh . . . hello.  I think you’d better come with me.  Johnny, that is.  Aunt Theodora . . . “

“Yeah, of course!  Theodora.”  Johnny suddenly had no trouble whatsoever getting that errant dress strap back where it belonged.  “I should have known.”

“She’s waiting for us in the lobby at the opera.  Johnny, I think we owe it to her . . . “

“Sure, Scott. You go on back and I’ll be there in a minute.”  Johnny turned back to the strap.

Scott returned to the back door of RODS and on impulse turned back to see his brother nuzzling the strap.  Or something like that.

“Johnny!!”

“Yeah, all right, all right!  I get it, Scott.  I’m coming.”  He turned back to the pink strap.  “I’ll be here tomorrow, right after we put my brother’s aunt on the train.  You’d better be here.”

The pink strap giggled some kind of assent. Reluctantly, Johnny left the tree/young woman floozie/strap and followed his brother inside RODS.

And then they both stopped dead in the doorway.  Neither could believe the sight that greeted them.  Scott rubbed his eyes for better vision and Johnny smiled widely.

For what they saw was almost an impossibility.  Aunt Theodora, in formal gown, high-heeled shoes, and probably even the Hug ‘Em Madam corset she said she had bought for Daphne, was dancing to some very non-operatic tinny music.

On a table!

“No!” Scott whispered to himself.  “No no no no no!”  Johnny laughed along with the crowd that had gathered around the table. Everyone was clapping and laughing and singing and the tempo of the music had increased.  One of the rough-looking male bar patrons started climbing up on the table to dance with her.  Aunt Theodora happily kept up the little jig she was inventing, kicking her heels higher each time she imagined an accent in the music.  Her skirts swirled around gaily to the music and she clapped and sang along with the crowd, even though she didn’t know the words.  No one cared because absolutely everyone was having a grand time. 

Except Scott.  “This is all your doing!” he yelled at his brother and made a grab for him.

Johnny laughed and deftly slipped away from him.  “You’re welcome!” he called as he joined the crowd at the table.

---

It was one o’clock in the morning when Scott unlocked Aunt Theodora’s hotel room door for her.  Aunt Theodora entered her room and Johnny slipped in also.  They both headed for her bed.  Johnny took a flying leap and landed face down on the mattress.  “Mmm, this is so soft,” he muffled.

Aunt Theodora sat daintily on the edge of the bed and complained, “Now whyever didn’t they change out this absolutely inflexible mattress?  When I was in this room earlier today . . .”

“Yesterday,” Scott sighed from the doorway.

Aunt Theodora took no notice of her grand-nephew, as, indeed, she had not since the opera.  “. . .I distinctly told the maid that I simply had to have a softer mattress!  And here I am, suffering with this same intolerable bed.  Her superior will hear of this atrocity in the morning!”

“Aunt Theodora, it already is morning,” Scott said.  “You’ve only got a few hours left before your train leaves at noon, so I suggest you get some sleep.”

“Good idea,” came Johnny’s voice, filtered through goose down.

“You too, Johnny, but in your own room.”  When Johnny made no attempt to leave the comfort of Aunt Theodora’s inflexible mattress, Scott continued:  “We’d better leave, Johnny, so Aunt Theodora can get to bed.  After all, we do want her to board her train on time, don’t we?”

That did it!  Johnny quickly joined his brother in the doorway.  “’Night, Theodora,” he called as he headed for his own room.

“Now, Scotty,” Aunt Theodora wailed.  “You’re absolutely certain I’m not hurt?  I mean, that was quite a tumble I took.  How can you be so sure I . . .”

“Aunt Theodora,” Scott said patiently.  “When the table you were dancing on broke, you fell on top of a rather hefty longshoreman.  If anyone was hurt, it would have been him.  Not to mention which – you downed more than your fair share of some questionable alcoholic substance and that would have kept you limber enough to avoid any serious injury.  But I think the fact that you sang “Lucky Lyddie’s Lover” at the top of your lungs the whole two blocks back to the hotel is a fairly good indication that you are quite unhurt.”

“You’re sure now?”

“Good night, Aunt Theodora!”  And that door shut soundly.

---

Scott was mildly surprised the next morning when Johnny actually awakened him early, instead of the other way around.

Scott opened his door to a panicked brother.  “Scott!  She’s gone!”

“Who’s gone?  Aunt Theodora?  My god!”

“Yeah.  She didn’t answer when I knocked, so I asked the maid to check on her.  Scott, the room is empty!  All her things are gone, her luggage, everything!”

“Was her bed slept in?”

“I don’t know;  I think so.  Why?”

“At least we know she doesn’t have much of a head start on us.  Come on!”  Scott grabbed his hat and started to head out the door.  Johnny stood in his way.

“Uh . . . brother . . . don’t you think you’d like to put some clothes on?”

---

A quick question at the hotel front desk revealed that Aunt Theodora had checked out and had sent her luggage on ahead to the train station.  Then she had taken a cab.  Where to?  The desk clerk had no idea.  “But she left this note for you, Mr. Lancer.”

Scott grabbed the envelope and tore into it. ”Scotty,” he read, “Couldn’t sleep so I went on ahead to the train station.  Had a quick breakfast at the hotel.  The eggs were too rubbery and the bacon wasn’t crisp enough.  You’d think in a state that claims to grow orange trees that the orange juice could be fresher!  See you there.”

“What’s up?” asked Johnny.

Scott chuckled and put the note in his pocket.  “She’s fine.  She wants to meet us somewhere – either the train station or an orange grove.  It’s not clear.  Let’s get some breakfast before we go.”

An hour later, Scott and Johnny Lancer’s cab dropped them off at the train station.  They grabbed their luggage and Scott left it in the stationmaster’s office while Johnny looked around.

“I don’t see her,” he said as Scott joined him.  There were lots of people milling around and many sitting in the waiting room.  The San Francisco train station was apparently a very busy place.

“Well, there are many people here, Johnny.  I’m sure she’s here somewhere.”

“You are?”

“No.”

They separated to look for Aunt Theodora, happily aware that her luggage, at least, had made it to the station.

Johnny was the first to find her.  Aunt Theodora was standing on the train platform, apparently unaware that her train was not due for an hour yet.  She was clearly in a huffy mood and Johnny thought about quickly departing, but she spotted him.  “There you are, Jonathan,” she yelled.  “It’s about time!  I’ve been waiting here for . . . “

But Aunt Theodora couldn’t finish her sentence because just then a man quickly appeared out of the crowd, grabbed the handbag off her arm, and just as quickly disappeared back into the crowd.  Aunt Theodora was flustered.  “Oh no!  Oh no!  My train ticket was in there.  My . . . “

Johnny heard all he needed to hear before springing into action.  He ran right past Aunt Theodora and into the crowd.  He quickly spotted the man and tackled him to the ground.  Johnny checked to determine that his adversary was unarmed, then he grabbed the man by his lapels and brought him to his feet.  Locking the man’s arm painfully behind his back, he pushed him forward.  “Come on, let’s go,” Johnny said.

He pushed the man back to Aunt Theodora, who was still sputtering.  “Here, Theodora,” Johnny said, “here’s your handbag.  And this is the man who grabbed it.”

“You ruffian!” Aunt Theodora said to the man and hit him on the shoulder with her pink parasol.

“Ow!” said the man.

“Theodora, what would you like me to do with him?”

This was apparently a very good question, requiring great thought.  Aunt Theodora looked the man over, head to toe and back again, before speaking.  “He certainly doesn’t dress well, does he?  And he’s emaciated.  He’s not carrying a peddler’s case, like Mr. Moore was on the stagecoach, so he’s not a peddler.  He doesn’t seem to have much going for himself.  You!  You there . . . “  she poked the man with her pink parasol, “do you have much going for yourself?  Speak up.”

“No, ma’am,” he said with feeling when Johnny turned his arm even more.

“And, as we know, Jonathan, if a man like this goes to jail, he will most surely end up on the hangman’s noose, isn’t that correct?”

“Yup,” said Johnny, feeling the man start to squirm in his grasp.

“I suppose we should turn him in to the nearest policeman.  Yes, yes, that’s what we should do.  But I’m feeling benevolent today. Jonathan, I think you should let him go.  IF he promises to end his life of crime, and especially IF he apologizes to me.  Do you promise to end your life of crime?”

“Sure,” said the man.

“And now apologize to the nice lady,” said Johnny.

“Sorry, ma’am,” the man squeaked as Johnny twisted his arm just one little bit more.  And then Johnny let go.  The man couldn’t believe his good luck.  He rubbed his arm and then scampered off into the crowd.

Aunt Theora looked after him thoughtfully.  “Do you think we did the right thing, Jonathan?”

“No.”

“Nonsense.  We have now made him think.  I’m certain he will end his life of crime, thanks to me.”

---

Scott found Aunt Theodora sitting on a bench on the platform, guarded carefully by Johnny, who sat next to her.  Johnny was sound asleep.

“Well!  I’m glad he found you, Aunt Theodora,” said Scott.  “I’ve been looking all over for you.” 

“Well, that was silly, Scotty.  I’m sitting right here.”  She beckoned him to sit on the other side of her, then cautioned him to keep his voice low so as not to awaken Johnny.  With the din from the platform and the noise of trains on some tracks, that seemed superfluous, but Aunt Theodora always got her way.

Aunt Theodora stared hard at Johnny, then turned to Scott.  “Jonathan has acted like a hero today, Scotty.  I am proud of him.”

Scott raised his eyebrows in wonder.  “You’re actually proud of Johnny?”

“Yes, even though he can be quite obtuse at times.  He has a pretty face and he can shoot.  I expect those are his main redeeming characteristics.”

Scott shook his head sadly.  “Yes, Johnny’s face and shooting.  He’s managed to get by on just those all these years now.”

“But he seems to have given up shooting, and the face won’t last forever.”

“Don’t worry, Aunt Theodora.  I’ll take care of him.”

Aunt Theodora patted her nephew on the arm.  “Good boy, Scotty.  See that you do.”

---

As if by magic, Johnny awoke to the sound of the correct train heading into the station.  “Is this it?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes, this is it,” Scott answered.  He stood and helped his aunt to her feet.  The train came to a brake-screeching halt.  People hurried in all directions and suddenly there was a lot more noise and commotion than previously.  The three of them headed for the end car and waited while quite a few passengers disembarked.  When the last person had left the train, Johnny got aboard and helped pull Aunt Theodora up as Scott lifted her from behind.

“We’ll say our good-byes here,” Scott said as he hugged his aunt.  “I’m happy you were able to come visit Lancer, Aunt Theodora.  It was so good to see you again.”

“Yes, Scotty, it was good to see how much you’ve grown since I last saw you.”

“Well, I haven’t actually grown . . .”

“And you, Jonathan,” said Aunt Theodora, turning to Johnny, “try not to get in trouble.  I think you’ll be fine if you do everything Scotty says.”

“Sure, Theodora,” Johnny said as he planted a kiss on her cheek.  “I’ll mind Scott like he’s my own brother or something.”

“That’s fine, Jonathan.  There’s hope for you yet.”

“All right, now, Aunt Theodora, your luggage will be put aboard by the railroad and will be unloaded when you get off.  You’d better get inside the cars now and find yourself a seat.  The train will be leaving shortly,” said Scott.

“What do you mean – find myself a seat?  Surely my ticket shows that I have the most luxurious seating arrangement saved for me?!”

“Well, no.  There are no reserved seats.  You simply choose . . .”

Searching for the perfect train seat was most certainly beneath Aunt Theodora. “I have no intention of muddling through the narrow aisles of all these cars in search of an appropriate place to sit while riding.”

“But . . . “

“No, Scotty.”  Aunt Theodora turned her nose in the air.  “You shall go search the train for the best seat – the most appropriate seat for your great-aunt.  And I shall wait right here until you have returned with news of its whereabouts.”  She stamped her pink parasol on the train floor a couple times for effect.

Sensing – correctly – that Aunt Theodora was not going to budge and that time was slipping away, Scott made no further effort to dislodge his aunt.  “Come on, Johnny,” he said.  “We’ll find her a seat and one of us can save it for her.” 

Johnny had been enjoying the entire scene and was perfectly amenable to any request because AUNT THEODORA HAD A TRAIN TICKET.  So he went with Scott into the train cars, through them, one by one, until a seat that Scott thought would meet the approval of his aunt was located.  The train was very crowded and they felt that this single seat would have to do.  Scott tried it out to make sure it was large – ahem – comfortable enough for his aunt.  Then Johnny sat there to save it while Scott made his way back through the aisles of the cars to fetch his aunt.

In the meantime, Aunt Theodora was becoming bored just waiting for something to happen.  She was, after all, a woman of action.  As she scanned the crowd on the platform for something of interest, she gleefully spotted someone she knew, someone she was actually hoping she would run into.

Lester Moore, the Hug ‘Em Madam corset salesman.

“Oh, Mr. Moore!  Mr. Moore!”  She waved her pink parasol in the air as she disembarked from the train and made her way toward him.  Mr. Moore seemed excited to see her and they approached each other like old friends.

“Dear Miss Garrett, how very sweet it is to encounter you again.”  Mr. Moore doffed his hat and bowed.

“Yes, Mr. Moore.  It’s destiny.  I was hoping to run into you before leaving California.”

“Oh?  And what can I do for you, madam?”

“Do you remember that lovely corset you sold me?  The one with the rococo roses?”

“Hmmm.  Well, I do have a few that match that description.  Let’s just look through my wares and I’m sure we’ll spot one just like it.”  Mr. Moore opened his case on a bench that had been vacated and began spreading out his merchandise.  The train whistle blew and the train began slowly moving.

“Was it this one, the one with the little decorative buttons?”

“Hmmm . . . no, no buttons.”

“Perhaps this one, with the lace along the shoulder?”

“No, it had lace, but . . . “

“Maybe this one, with the . . . Miss Garrett, I believe your train is leaving the station.”

“Not carnations, it was roses.  Mr. Moore, you’re not concentrating.  I wish to purchase more corsets just like the lovely one I bought earlier.  It fit so well . . . I mean –  I’m sure it will fit Daphne very well!”

The chugga-chugga-chugga of the train’s engine and wheels increased as the train steadily picked up speed.

“That’s it!”  Aunt Theodora finally spotted the exact product she was looking for.  She held it in the air, proud of her detection abilities. The train kept chugging away.

“Ah, Miss Garrett, you have indeed chosen my most beautiful product!  You have excellent taste!”

Aunt Theodora beamed.  The train whistle screamed.

“How many do you have?  I’ll take all of them.”

“Three, madam.  And they can all be yours for the rock-bottom price of just nine dollars!”

Aunt Theodora tenderly stuffed her special gifts for Daphne into her bag, while pulling out Mr. Moore’s payment.  Handing it to him, she smiled and patted his hand.

“Miss Garrett, I am mightily happy to have pleased you,” said Mr. Moore. “But I fear it is too late for you to catch your train now.”

Aunt Theodora looked at the departing train, the train leaving for the Midwest with Scotty and Jonathan aboard and with her not aboard.  She looked at her new corsets, safely in her bag, and that was, of course, all that mattered.

“Good-bye,” said Aunt Theodora to the train.

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~end~

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