“They call me One-Eyed Pete,” he told the girl. “Can you guess why?”
She examined his face. “’Cuz of what the bear did?”
He ran a gnarled finger over the left side of his face. “Nah, that’s just a scratch.” When he grinned, the scar twisted his smile into a grimace, but his right eye sparkled with mischief. “There’s more than one way of seein’.”
She gave him a puzzled frown.
“They also call me One Mind Pete.”
“We all have only one mind.”
“Most of us have half a dozen minds,” he told her. “Can’t decide which one to listen to at any one time.”
She giggled. “That’s true.”
“I’m pretty single-minded,” he said. “Makes me kinda stubborn.”
“But then you don’t have to decide,” the child pointed out. “You just know.”
“You sure are one smart cookie,” he said.
Fiction and Fact From Old New Mexico 