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Timmie Hax
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- My Character in Tombstone
- Timmie Hax is a 12 years old orphaned country boy who, after running away from several orphanages, finally found a place to call home in the Sonoran Desert where the Mexican lady Senora Abs gave him work and shelter He's a friendly feller with a good heart and wants to become a farmer or rancher one day. Timmie is a good worker, but of course he loves to play, have fun and go fishing, too. And, sure thing, being raised by catholic nuns, he is a firm believer. Wolfy, a tame black wolf, is his best friend.
- My Story
- Mah name's Timmie Hax. Ah was born in Valentine, Nebraska, 12 years
ago but really, ah cain't recollect this place atall. Ma died when
she gave birth t'me so ah hain't ever met'er. Ah spent tha first
five years a-mah life with jest dad and granny. Ah lost dad soon
after mah 5th birthday. He was bitten bah a snake and died within
only a few hours. Granny was too old ta care fer me so ah was sent
to an orphanage. The first a-many.
Orphanages, ah tell ya, ain't no fun atall. No matter where they put me, they were all the same.
We always had ta sleep in one room with a dozen or more boys. All we
gotta eat was corn meal and oatcake. Corn meal and oatcake, day bah
day. Ah wonder if'n there's some kinda law that orphans must only be served
corn meal and oatcake. Shore thang we had ta werk in the gardens and
were beaten fer every lil mistake so ah kept runnin away whenever
ah had a chance. Of course ah was often "adopted" as well. When ah
was presented to mah new foster parents, ah was never ast what ah
like t'do or like ta eat. Many a-them hain't even ast fer mah
name. Instead they's been lookin at me as if'n ah was a hoss, all
they ever wanted ta know was if'n ah could run a plow, milk cows,
handle an axe...So ye kin guess why they wanted ta "adopt" me. Still ah hain't ever refused t'go with those people. They still treated me like a mule,
they still beat me and never cared 'bout givin me better clothes BUT
at least it always was an escape from corn meal and oatcake.
Yet it never took more'n a coupla weeks ta have me run away again. Ah was
smaller'n t'day and therefore couldn't run too far away afore ah was catched
again and brought ta another orphanage where all the same misery
started over and over again. The last orphanage ah ran away from was
in Douglas, Arizana. Quite a distance eh? From Nebraska all the way down ta Arizona. Douglas, thats right next ta the Mexican boarder even. The
only good thang 'bout thet place was that ah learned a few Spanish
werds, but everythang else was as bad as in all the other
orphanages. So, when ah was 11, ah planned mah final escape and ran
away again.
Ah stole as much food as ah was able ta carry and stuffed it
along with mah few belongings inta a sack and ran, two nights and
two days 'thout ever stoppin'. Only when mah feet were bleedin' and
too sore t'walk any further ah stopped and hid in a lil cave ta
sleep'n rest. Cain't recollect how long ah slept there but when ah
woke up, sompin small, warm and furry was layin' curled up next
t'me, huggin its tiny body against mine. Ah jumped up and was
startled as soon as ah realized thet tha little fur ball was a wolf
cub. Ah grabbed a stick and ran inta a dark corner of thet little
cave as ah was expectin' a mad mother wolf t'show up every moment.
Ah tried not ta breathe, not ta move, and waited there stiff like a
statue, but of course there hain't been no wolf mom, nor any other
wolf fer thet matter. 'cept fer the little cub that awkwardly
hobbled after me, made sqeaky noises and looked up t'me with big,
sad eyes, wagging its tiny tail. Ah sighed and threw mah stick away.
"Yer an orphan too hm?" ah ast tha lil wolf. She replied with
another squeaky sound. Ah knelt down ta pet'er and she licked and
playfully bit mah fingers. She made me chuckle and ah fell in love
with that plushy bundle.
And so ah took'er with me and shared mah
food with'er. Ah called'er "Wolfy" as ah couldn't think of a
better name. It took sev'ral months fer us ta fin'lly arrive in
Tombstone. In those months we often stopped in small towns, at
ranches and farms. Ah offered werk fer food'n'sheltah. Now that ah
was more-a-less mah own "boss" the farmers were usually kind and
pleased with mah werk. They barely ever beat me but let me sleep
in their barns and gave me food. Real food. Even meat sometimes. The
best food ah ever had. And milk, Jesus Christ, fresh'n wonderful sweet milk! Whenever we got milk in the orphanage it was always tastin' sour or it's been boiled and has had a disgustin' skin swimmin on top of it....yuck! So thats when ah decided ta become a farmer one day. Tha werk was hard but ah never met a farmer who let me sleep with a hungry stomach. Most a-tha time Wolfy and ah were wanderin'. Often it took sev'ral days ta walk from one farm to tha next, or to a small town. In towns Wolfy was a great hep as ah let rich kids pet'er for a few pennies or sompin ta eat. Ah tell ya, some chi'ren musta plundered their parents kitchens ta pet mah Wolfy! However, mah plan was ta walk further to tha north. The bigger tha distance between me and Douglas, the better. Though, tha last farmer ah was werkin fer had warned me "boy, watch out, tha next city from here is Tombstone but there's injuns land and Tombstone's one frickin helluva city so ye oughta make a big bow around it".
Well, ah tried t'make a bow around Tombstone all right. But ah underestimated tha desert. All around Tombstone there hain't been nothing but desert. Wolfy and ah were hungry. Most a-all we were thirsty, and it was hot, tha bottoms a-mah feet were burnin like ah was walkin' on glowin' coals. In the far distance ah saw a stage coach, rushin' through the desert, draggin' a huge tail a-dust after it. Ah knew its destination'd be Tombstone as it went straight to tha north-east. "Helluva city or not" ah thought "dang, cain't be more'n a hell than what ah got all around me". So ah follered tha cloud a-dust from thet stagecoach and jest afore sundown ah entered tha city a-Tombstone.
---t'be continued---
Keeping an eye on my belongings **for my personal use**
Timmie McLaury currently owns
3 bib overalls in good, average and poor shape
1 pair of good brown leather boots
4 good casual/work shirts (3xlong 1xshort sleeved)
2 short sleeved work shirts in poor shape
2 hats (1x black 1xstraw)
1 pair of pants incl. suspenders in poor shape
1 good Sunday Suit
2 calves
1 old donkey
1 .22 hunting rifle
The Holy Bible
3 bib overalls in good, average and poor shape
1 pair of good brown leather boots
4 good casual/work shirts (3xlong 1xshort sleeved)
2 short sleeved work shirts in poor shape
2 hats (1x black 1xstraw)
1 pair of pants incl. suspenders in poor shape
1 good Sunday Suit
2 calves
1 old donkey
1 .22 hunting rifle
The Holy Bible
Timmie Hax's Photos
Timmie Hax's Blog
Good ta know - Value of stuff
Money money money is a BIG topic that I personally pay a lot of attention for. Knowledge about the value of stuff is elementary for historically correct roleplay and, I think, it is simply thrilling to know about such details. Bondje and myself did some research and found a few cool facts. After going through this list, you might understand why Lost Boy "can't" ever accept tips as high as 1$ and above. Simply because 1$ was so much more worth than it is today. So I suggest: have a look at it :o)… Continue
Posted on October 6, 2008 at 7:00pm —
Good ta know - A coupla injun werds (Apache)
Everyone who's ever been to a foreign country with different language knows: the natives are (usually) always happy to be adressed in their own language. Greeting a French with "Bonjour" and a Mexican with "Buenos Dias" will most probably be rewarded with a smile and cooperativeness. Using a few native words is a sign of respect and shows that you are at least trying to communicate in the foreign language as good as you can. It's the same with the Apaches, although it might happen that you run i… Continue
Posted on October 4, 2008 at 9:30am — 2 Comments
Comment Wall (8 comments)
- At 10:46pm on February 17, 2009,
Gigi Gartenberg said… - miss the old days timmie.
- At 7:15pm on October 29, 2008,
Gigi Gartenberg said…
- Thanks for having me.
- At 5:51am on September 30, 2008,
Forrest Leichter said… - I really liked yer story there Timmie..right nice indeed!
- At 1:35am on August 8, 2008,
Abronia Mubble said… - I think maybe me as Angel the cat did see Wolfie recently. Done scared me quite a bit, as you can guess!
- At 5:14am on July 24, 2008,
Manveru Dryke said… - Hey Kid, hows life round the streets, hope all is goin well, this here site is realy pickin up steam, huge kudos and great addition to the Tombstone lifestyle when folks like me can't get online much in busy times.
Give wolfie a pettin for me, I'm back to the feilds.
"Boss"
- At 8:52pm on July 21, 2008,
Jefke Kohime said… - Hiya Kiddo!
You got yourself a nice background story too. Thanks for leaving me a comment!
And no worries about me not telling your hiding spot ;-) I'll send the bill after, for the use of our camp.
See ya around!
- At 4:39pm on July 21, 2008,
Morrighain Aeon said… - Thank you so much Timmie!
And let me pay the same respects to your story! I love that you even wrote it in the vernacular. It's wonderful.
Can't wait for a continuation. :)
- At 1:48am on July 14, 2008,
Raymond Foxchase said… - Wonderful story you got there, Timmie! I'd love to hear the rest :3
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