Westinghouse Patent Pend. and Friends

By Adam Dumphy

The morning of his eighteen
birthday Westinghouse Patent Pend. class=SpellE>Ainstruther hears his Ma say, “Wes, break a leg.”

He realizes it is carnie talk
telling him to leave the desolate homestead to go out in the world to make his
fortune and send it back, that the other eight kid’s ration of corn meal mush
and goat’s milk not be permanently interrupted.

Unschooled he is well read from
his Uncle Abernathy, an English Remittance Man’s, library.

He is then a Victorian minded
American youth dropped into the bucolic glitz of San Diego,
CA of the Thirties.

His first acquaintance is class=SpellE>Alyse, rambunctious daughter of an oil tycoon. Smitten she
offers to help his quest but her mind is more on long white dresses and bridal
bouquets.

At Alyse’s
admission of her love of antiques they mine the defunct Ensenada
Hotel, once a posh beanery, of its furnishings as items to sell on Antique Row
in San Diego.

They are astonished to find in
the various armoires exotic birds and reptiles being smuggled in for the San
Diego Zoo, and finally a defunct Mafia gunman.

They over come to make it, in
Wes’ own words, “A typical American Horatio Aglae
(sic) Success story”.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: May 26, 2004
• ISBN: 9781418458966

Adam Dumphy

Inflamed by a novel of and during the Spanish Civil War of 1936, titled, “The Kansas City Milkman”, Adam Dumphy searched out and contacted a clandestine enlistment center for the British Ambulance Corps operating there. Clandestine as it was at the time an illegal act to aid either side in the conflict. To Adam that fit the novel and made it all the more interesting to him and more Hemingwayesque. He ever after felt the British people generally to be biased and intolerant as he was rejected and simply for being only twelve years old. Still he found himself fascinated by that most peculiar of wars even as some men are towards our American Civil War. All the books and information he collected then he still has. His loyalty he has tried to maintain unbiased to either side although it has varied in degree from one side to another from year to year. Now from the vantage point of eighty years of age the only thing he can decide with certainty about the affair is that both sides got a very “bad press”. But then he believes that is true of most major events.

Book preview

Chapter 1 

Carrizo Gorge, San Diego County, February 1937.

It was my eighteenth birthday, my day for the silver spoon in my mouth. I chased the last lumps of corn meal mush around the wooden bowel with the silver spoon attatchment on Uncle Abernathy’s sterling-silver pipe cleaner, and picked up the bowl to drink the very last of the goat’s milk and sighed. Life did have its great moments.

I looked around our three room hacienda set in the most desolate corner of DeAnza Desert on the California/ Mexico border.The soft morning sun peeked through the cracks in the weathered clapboard siding giving a pinstripe to the worn, plank floor and a soft morning breeze sighed through the broken window pane of our window and set the tin cans suspended beneath each of the major leaks in the roof into a wind chime and setting the dust motes dancing.

My mind was on Aramantha Ochoa and exactly what she meant last night in the moonlight behind the Ochoa mule barn, when I realized I was being spoken to.

Wes, kick the kiddy cord.

What, Ma?

Live it without the net.

But Ma…

It was my Ma’s voice all right but I hardly recognized it as it was kind of deep now and throaty. Looking at her I remembered. She looked exactly like that when she said the same words when my older brother Roengten left a year ago. I remember he was eighteen when he left and I was just nine months and a few weeks younger than he.

Ma was a thin, tiny, little thing sitting sunk wearily on the three-legged kitchen chair, one chair leg mended with a redwood paling but still teetery. Short like me, but not like me otherwise. I took after my Pa, not real tall but equal in size, front to back, side to side and up and down.

She was skinny as a snake with the the double jointed look that had made her the greatest aerialist, ‘THE GREAT NORTHUMBERLAND CIRCUS, Greatest in all Britain’, had boasted. She was the only one who could do a triple flip off the high wire and catch the follow-up trapeze every time. Even when she was pretty far gone carrying one us nine kids she could. She’d just sew a few more ruffles on her costume and keep performing, then just give it up for a few days when one was ready to arrive or the tights got so they wouldn’t meet in front. Then she would be back at it again and never had to rehearse.

My Pa never could do that one. Although he was billed as, ‘THE STRONGEST MAN ON EARTH, THE KING OF THE HIGH WIRE.’ he just couldn’t.

He did try the triple flip once though I knew. He was trying to catch the eye of one of those music hall hussies seated in the third row. He got her attention all right but just momentarily. He landed in her lap and they was so intertwined nobody bothered to try to untangle them just buried them together in the same box.

That was when Ma brought the kids to live with Uncle Abernathy here in Carrizo Gorge.

She mourned for my Pa I know, although she never said nothing. But her greatest curse was, Like a music hall hussy.

And I know she didn’t mind leaving the circus, she just talked the language still like today. It was her way of saying something and still to insure circus-type good luck. In the carnie if you wished someone ‘good luck’ it meant a disaster, certain sure.

Her face was kind of tired looking I suddenly noticed, but not old, with a tear coming down her cheek and her nose was red. She had been crying at night a lot, I guessed.

I pulled myself together. Me, Ma? Today?

She got wearily to her feet, kissed me on the cheek and started to pick up the seven remaining bowls off the big table avoiding the pick handle under one table edge put there to level it and a rock where the short leg was.

She sighed again and said:

"Never do tomorrow what needs to do today

For the train that goes tomorrow is a mile upon its way."

She always quoted that and it didn’t make sense to me but I knew what she meant. And I realized suddenly that the cornmeal mush in the bowls was getting more and more watery and less and less in amount lately.

Uncle Abernathy’s remittance must have been held up or else he lost it at Dolph’s Poker Palace again.

I says, Right Ma. I ‘ll get my stuff and break a leg or two.

I stepped over the broken window sill to the outside porch where I’d slept and lived the last years. I dug out my cigar box and took out my clasp knife, lucky Indian-Head penny, and a picture of my Mom and Dad in pink tights. I pulled on my brogans and took down my canvas coat but I left the boy’s communal comb.

Returning through the window I left a dime and quarter and three pennies from last night’s wrestling winnings on the table and headed for the door.

Wes. she says.

Yeah Ma.

Don’t forget to send the cush cush. She pointed to the front yard where the kids were playing. My they sure could race around and yell a lot on half a bowl of mush a day. And even that required cush cush.

I won’t Ma. And Ma..

Yes, Son?

Thanks for everything. I pointed all around the place. I mean it so much, Ma. All the things you’ve give me and us…and I promise I will not be a shame to you, ever.

She turned away kind of shy. Never were. Never could be, Son.

Chapter 2 

On the porch Uncle Abernathy was rocking on the glider chair he slept in. I guess he read my expression.

Well laddie, me buck. He always talked like that cause he was an English Remittance Man. He got a ‘stipend’ from a big estate in Essex and never let any of the rest of the world, them cart horse buggers, forget it.

He continued. I was just your age when I took foot in hand between two days as it was. Malay was the place then. I remember still…

I had heard the stories more than once and more than twice now that I think of it, but now reluctant to leave I guess, I listened. They was all about the same. A beautiful native girl with emeralds (or maybe rubies or diamonds) hidden in her earrings (or necklace or navel) and not wearing more than ‘a scrap or two or less’, had fallen in love with him.

Her father (or tribe or clan) could never approve of them. So he fought his way through pirates (or headhunters or slave traders) to the gold fields (or diamond mines or pearling waters) found the fabulous treasure and got clean away. Except at the last river (or bay or swamp) she stayed behind to save his life and was struck by a lance (or arrow or spear or bullet) and died in his arms.

Well thanks, Uncle Abernahy, He was only half through but I was feeling too down to listen, I best get along.

His voice changed then from them high flown English tones to something more natural. Yes, best get at the job, Laddie. And Lord how I wish I was going with you. He looked down at the crippled leg that hurt him so much just before a rain storm and I hurried away.

I walked down the sandy hill trail to the County Fire Road in a pretty low mood. Every boulder, creosote bush, yucca, or mesquite tree brought back a memory. Good memories most of them too. If I hadn’t been a man and full growed I’d likely cried a little myself.

Arriving at the black topped one-and-a-half lane road I suddenly realized that I would have to make a decision, my first decision ever, all on my own. I looked both ways along the road but nothing was moving. There was no sign of any living thing all across the whole valley but me. Where was I going to go? And what was I going to do?

As I often do when I got some serious thinking to do, I bent down and put my hands on the ground and walked a couple hundred yards on my hands. In our family and with my kind of build it’s as easy to walk on my hands as on my feet. And it always seemed to kind’a help my thinking when I was upside down. More blood in my brain or something but this time nothing came.

I stopped, did a hundred one arm push ups with one hand and then with the other but still there was no enlightenment. I didn’t stop to rest at all. Little stuff like that doesn’t bother me none, but I was perplexed.

I sat a spell and then backing up to a cut bank by the road I put my coat on the ground, I got kind of sensitive head nerves or something, as padding, and stood on my head on it. I figured if walking on my hands didn’t bring any ideas I’d just stand there a half hour or so and let things percolate.

I guess in a way it worked at least something happened. At first it was just a hum and then it became the sound of a car coming fast, mighty much too fast for that little road. Not particularly interested I tried to ignore it until getting closer the noise changed from a ‘whoosh’ to a ‘bumpa bumpa bumpa’.

It slowed and stopped across from me. Even upside down I could see it was a funny little thing. Looked like a pregnant roller skate. Mostly on this road we saw wagons or carts with an occasional fish truck from El Rosario on the gulf. This thing was real low and short but it had a round little hood on the front and no bump on the fanny and was painted bright pink.

The door opens and a lady steps out and bends down. And even up side down and at first look I thought, Oh the poor thing.

You see she was not exactly a beauty at all. Not like Aramantha. Aramantha is skinnier even than Ma. When her Ma, Senora Ochoa, makes Ara a new dress each Cinco de Mayo, Senora Ochoa comes over to borrow Ma’s pattern for my sister Pennywort. Pennywort is eleven, and the dress when done just fits Aramantha.

Boy that girl is really something. When she gets on one of them calico dresses she is about as big around as a quart peach can and but filled with more sugar. And that tight dress across her chest is flat as her flat belly and there is no bulging out behind either.

Why when she tries to wear a pair of Levi’s they just slip right down off her ‘cause there is nothing to hold them up. Uncle Abernathy calls her ‘willowy’ when she is being nice to him and ‘boneyard’ when she’d stuck out her tongue at him and told him what she really thought. Needless to say she is the class of the class of half a dozen valleys and a dozen ranchitos, with that shape.

Well this poor girl was nothing like that. Just when she was first getting out I couldn’t help but notice that her sweater bulged out in front of her, high and straight like Ma’s warming shelf on the big, kitchen wood stove. Her waist was tiny, maybe as tiny as Aramantha, but once she squatted to look at that rear wheel she stretched out her skirt in the back like it would split right in two.

The lady stood up, said something under her breath and looked both ways along the highway. There must have been nothing to see so she looked back at me. Bending double she tilted her head to see what I might look like standing up and then approached warily.

Say, Honey. Would you do a girl a great big favor?

I couldn’t answer like I was so I just said. Aaaa.

She squatted down turned her head again to get proper prospective. Could you change that tire? and then added, If your not too busy or anything.

I wasn’t hesitating about helping her. Of course I’d never changed a tire on a car before but lots of wheels on wagons. I was slow to answer as I was busy noticing. Close up her hair was a rich kind of chestnut-red, all curls, so it must be real. Her eyes was green and complexion like an apricot just ripe enough for jam.

Again I thought, Poor girl. I gotta be right kind to her and help her in every way I can and make a point not to mention her deficiences.

You can see what standing on my head does. It gives those deep philosophical thoughts like that.

Aramantha’s hair was black and straight, her eyes blacker and snappy, her complexion so pale that when she borrowed her Aunt’s rouge, (her Aunt works in a bar in Rosarito so she has to use stuff like that), it makes her look like a kewpie doll with those big red spots on her cheeks.

Besides this lady in front of me, her skirt was so short her knees showed. She had slender knees all right but her legs was softly, curvy like, not fat but just long and well muscled. Aramantha’s legs, when she squatted down and pulled up her skirts to milk the goats, was just the bones with a little skin stretched tight over them. And that sort of thing can get to a fella.

So I says, Yes Ma’am, poor thi… Ma’am. Not too clear. Ever try to hold a conversation standing on your head?

I tried again. I’d be glad to help a poor little…. I mean lady in distress.

I snapped a back flip and landed on my feet to walk over to her little toy. The thing had something wrong all right. The top of the back wheel thing was nice and round but the bottom was flat.

Ma’am. I never changed one before but it shouldn’t be too hard. I’ll lift up your little car here and hold it while you pull the wheel off.

She looked at me close again and mumbled something under her breath. Then, Look why don’t we do it the easy way. She says. She opens a little door on the front of the car and pulling out a flat metal plate and a rod with notches in it, she says. Voila. In case you have never met one, meet jack. Commetaley vous?

I didn’t know what that meant so I just shook hands with the thing, Jack, I says, Nice to meet you. I was starting to think that in addition to not looking too good she was a little soft in the head. Introducing me all formal to a thing like that.

She eyed me again kind of groggy and then squatted down. Jack see car? Jack lift car? Good boy Jack. She says.

I noticed as she was squatting there that she was wearing black stockings, real thin like, but with a lot of little holes all through them like a fish net. It reinforced my first impression.

Poor, poor girl. I thought. And I meant like ‘poor’ meaning no money this time. Why she can’t even afford stockings without holes in them even if they did have kind of sparkly things down each side.

She fitted the metal rod on the plate, put a little hook on the rod under the car somehow and began to pump. The little toy lifted up on this side off the road.

Oh, I says. I see Ma’am. Now I understand. And ain’t it wonderful what modern conveniences there is. Whatever will the mind of man think of next?

She straightened up. Yeah something like that. Look would you give it a little more lift so we can get the tire off?

I put both hands under the side of the car, tightened my bums like I’ve been taught when lifting, and gave a grunt.

The little car rose easy, tilted a minute, and would have turned right over if it hadn’t bumped into the cut back of the road there and couldn’t go all the way. But now the tire was about four feet off the ground.

There now. I says, pleased to having done something for her, poor thing. Why we don’t have to bend down at all now its right convenient.

She was looking a little goggley eyed now. I guessed she didn’t think as quick as me and was trying to figure some way to say thanks.

Listen, Honey…

Oh my, Ma’am. You shouldn’t never say that.

What?

Call a fella ‘Honey’ that you don’t even know. My Ma says only music hall floozies does that. I know you ain’t one of them even if you are a poor…even if you..I mean you sure ain’t one of them.

She sat down kind of weary on a big rock and shook her head. Music hall floozy? No I wouldn’t want to be nothing like that. Then speaking slow like reasoning with a kid she says. But.. you.. see… I don’t know your name. What else can I call you?

My name is Wes.

She considered this. Wes. His name is Wes. That is a nice name. Now we are getting somewhere. I’m not sure where, or if I want to go there, but somewhere.

I continued.Well actually it’s Westinghouse. But most of my friends call me Wes.

Westinghouse?

"Yeah ain’t that beautiful? My whole name is Westinghouse Patented Pend. Ainstruther. The Pend is with a period. Ma saw it written on something in England. She is awful good about thinking up names like that. My one brother’s named Forecastle after a town or room or something and then there is Roentgen, Majestic, Capitol, Unearthly and Tillywort.

She shook her head again like she was sorting something out.

Well I’m getting somewhere now. But I’m pretty sure I’m not where I thought I was, where ever that is. Say Wes, hon .. I mean Pat Pend etc. Could you just take off that tire?

No need now, Ma’am.

What?

See. Now it must be feeling better or something. Its nice and round all the way round. I pointed so she could see for herself.

Listen Wes I’m kind of whispy today, my unearthly phase, getting emanations like and things.

Aha. I had wondered about that.

What?

Well it did seem to me that a poor … oh I mean never you mind it at all.

My emanations tells me that tire ought to be taken off even if it is nice and round now. And the other put on.

Ok. I reached for the wheel and gave it a jerk but it only caused the car to jitter back and forth