Haints Stay (23 page)

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Authors: Colin Winnette

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“Hiding in the post office.”

Ramon glanced to the window and waved. Mary did not answer.

 

“Can I help you, miss ?” said the postal clerk. Mary turned finally
to explain that she was merely hiding there and there were no services needed.

“You're thinner than a rail,” said the clerk.

“I have been on foot for some time,” said Mary, “and eating little before
it.”

“I can get you a square meal for next to nothing,” said the clerk.

“I have less than that,” said Mary.

“On the house then,” said the clerk. “My treat. We will eat and you can
tell me how you wound up here. You can talk to my wife.”

The postal clerk led Mary through the back of the post office and out a
door that led into an alley. Across the alley was a small shack with smoke bellowing
from its chimney. Inside, there was
a table, two beds, three chairs,
and a window. In front of the stove was a woman named Gretta. She was the clerk's
wife. She had a heavy accent that made it hard for Mary to follow everything she
said. But Gretta was very patient with Mary, and did not mind repeating herself.

“What is your name ?” said Gretta.

“Isabella,” said Mary.

“That is a pretty name,” said Gretta.

“I like it very much, thank you,” said Mary.

“Where is your family ?” said Gretta.

“Pardon ?” said Mary. She was slurping the stew they'd prepared : beef,
potatoes, carrots, and peas.

“Your family,” said Gretta. “Where are they ?”

“Oh,” said Mary. “I haven't got a family. I came here with a boy, but we
are not related.”

“Where is he ?”

“He is finding work as a gunfighter, ma'am.”

“Oh my,” said Gretta.

“It is a foolish pursuit. He cannot shoot and has but one arm.”

“He has something to prove then,” said Gretta.

“You are correct,” said Mary. “I'd like to talk about something else now.
I've been with that boy for too long and I'm losing track of what it was I enjoyed
besides.”

“Where were you raised ?”

“On a ranch some distance from here,” said Mary.

“Where are your parents ?”

“You're hounding the girl,” said the clerk. “Let her eat.”

“Father is dead and Mar — … Mother is in the wilderness,” she said.

“In the wild ?” said Gretta.

“Pardon ?”

“Where is your mother ?” said Gretta.

“In the wilderness,” said Mary.

“Why ?”

“Gretta, please,” said the man.

“She is hunting down a man who murdered half a town.”

“Which town ?”

“I do not know.”

“Your mother is hunting down a killer ?”

“She is very strong and brave,” explained Mary.

“She must be a special woman,” said Gretta.

“She is,” said Mary.

“I'm finished,” said the clerk.

“Then take your sleep,” said Gretta. “I am talking with the girl.”

 

“Why doesn't she like me ?” said Ramon. He and Bird had made their
way back into the bar and Ramon was ordering them drink after drink.

“Who ?” said Bird.

“Your wife.”

“She does not like many people,” said Bird. “She's a contrary bull.”

“Do you like working with a gun ?” said Ramon.

“It's why I'm here,” said Bird. “I would like to become a marshal, or a
bounty hunter. I would like to head out and meet evil head on.”

“A committed man,” said Ramon.

Bird nodded.

“A dedicated man,” said Ramon. “Here is to dedicated
men.” He raised his glass.

Bird did as Ramon did. They drank, and Bird coughed. These were his first
tastes of liquor. He felt sick and then warm and then sick.

“You are not a drinker,” said Ramon.

Bird shook his head.

“But you are a gunfighter.”

Bird nodded.

“A one-armed gunfighter,” said Ramon.

Bird withdrew his pistol with a clap then set it back behind his belt.
One man startled, but the rest in the bar began to laugh. Ramon clapped Bird on the
back.

“Brave boy,” said Ramon. “You are in the lion's den. But we are friends.
Here is your money.”

He handed Bird a small pouch of coins.

“There is more than that too to be made,” said Ramon. “We like each
other, no ? You are getting to like me ?”

Bird nodded. He opened the pouch and counted the silver. It was two
hundred even.

“Who was the man I killed ?” he said.

“He was a bad man,” said Ramon. “He was a killer and a drunk.”

Ramon ordered two more drinks and toasted to Bird again.

“To our newest hired gun,” said Ramon. “You'll sleep with us tonight. In
the mission.”

“Where is it ?”

“At the end of the road. You cannot miss it. You will like it. Your wife
will like it. There is a bathhouse nearby, and you can use it as you see fit.”

“I did not expect this to come as easily as it has,” said Bird.

“You were ready for it,” said Ramon. He set his hand on
Bird's bad shoulder, and Bird flinched but did not pull away.

“I am ready for it,” said Bird.

“To fight evil,” said Ramon.

“To face it head on,” said Bird. “With everything within me.”

“You are a very brave boy,” said Ramon.

Bird found the postal office locked when he set to fetch Mary. He peeked
in the windows and spotted nothing. He went around the side of the building and into
the back alley. There, he spotted the shack and the smoke and approached the front
door. He knocked and Gretta answered.

“Have you seen my wife ?” said Bird.

“I have seen no wives,” said Gretta. “It is late and you are drunk,
boy.”

“I can't find her,” said Bird. “Her name is Mary.”

“She has likely run away or is staying with her mother.”

“What are you saying ?” said Bird.

“She is likely with her mother,” said Gretta again.

“She doesn't have a mother.”

“Then you have yourself a problem, boy. Do you know what time it
is ?”

“I am not a boy,” said Bird.

“You are no bigger than my gut,” said Gretta.

“I am bigger than your gut,” said Bird.

“You must go now,” said Gretta. “My husband is sleeping and he will not
be happy for you to wake him.”

“But I cannot find my wife,” said Bird.

“I know this,” said Gretta. She shut the door.

Bird stumbled back into the alley. A cat darted past and vanished beneath
a crate.

“That cat is like my wife,” Bird said, to no one.

Ramon was waiting for him at the staircase. He was bent
over, as if talking to the eagle.

“We have drunk, my friend,” said Ramon.

“I'm sick,” said Bird.

“You are not a drinker,” said Ramon. “But you will get better.”

“I do not trust you, Ramon,” said Bird.

“Nor should you !” said Ramon.

Suddenly, Bird was laughing. Then Ramon was laughing. They were drunk in
the street together and the stars were out. The windows around them were lit and
dark and in-between. There was singing coming from the bar. Someone was banging out
something on a loose-keyed piano. A man led his horse down the center of the road.
Bird withdrew his pistol and stuck it back behind his belt.

“Come,” said Ramon, “to the mission. We'll sleep now and get baths
tomorrow. I'll introduce you to the boys and to the boss. I have a bottle in my
room. We will drink before bed and in the morning to cure our stomachs and clear our
heads.”

“You are not the boss ?” said Bird.

“I like you, little bird,” said Ramon. “Do you like me just a
little ?”

Bird said nothing.

The mission was raucous, but clean. Men and women crowded the halls, and
the enormous chapel space at its center. Corridors of rooms lined the edges and
Ramon took Bird to his. It was sparsely decorated, but lined with empty bottles.
They drank on the rug in the center of Ramon's room, and when Ramon began to touch
him, Bird did not resist. Ramon removed Bird's shirt, and then his own. He touched
the scar where the boy's arm had been.

“I was pinned beneath a rock,” said Bird, “and I freed myself.”

“You are a very brave boy,” said Ramon. He kissed him
then, and Bird retracted.

“No,” said Bird.

“My mistake,” said Ramon. “I thought you liked me.”

“I will sleep outside,” said Bird, and he gathered his shirt and dressed
while exiting.

As he left the chapel, Ramon followed. The men and women in the hallways
laughed at themselves and then at Ramon and Bird. They went back to laughing at
themselves as Bird and Ramon left.

Outside, Bird found a fountain with a smooth bench carved into its outer
wall. He set himself on the bench and told Ramon not to come any closer. He withdrew
his pistol. When Ramon stopped, Bird set the pistol at his side.

“I will be fine here,” said Bird.

“I can show you to your room,” said Ramon. “I will leave you there.”

“I will sleep outside,” said Bird.

“You're upset,” said Ramon. “I have upset you.” He was distressed, but
soft in his manner.

“I'd like a safe distance between us,” said Bird. “You've made me feel
uneasy, but I am not upset.”

“I apologize, little bird,” said Ramon. He was missing a tooth and the
gap sometimes whistled as he spoke. “I did not mean to upset you.”

“In the morning,” said Bird, “you will introduce me to the boss ?”

“Yes,” said Ramon. “But you can sleep inside.”

“I will sleep outside,” said Bird. He pulled back the pistol's hammer and
set it in his lap.

Ramon left him then. Bird sat alone. He set his hand in the
still water of the fountain. Mary had abandoned him. He would be
alone forever. He was better off alone. He would be a traveler and a gunfighter. He
would be quick and steady, and they would not expect it.

 

The bodies in Wolf Creek were arranged as if the townspeople had
been executed in a group. The wagon train had sped in to greet the buildings, but
now lingered at the mouth of the town's central road. They kept their distance, for
fear of a plague, until Brooke volunteered to approach the corpses. He promised to
remain at a good distance if he could not produce another viable cause of death. He
approached the bodies with a bandana at his mouth, and yet the stench still struck
him like a hand.

“They are shot,” said Brooke. He coughed and retched from the smell. The
sight was less than pleasant too, but nothing he had not seen before. “They are days
dead. Maybe weeks.”

Slowly, the wagon trainers approached.

“Who killed them, John ?” said Irene.

“I do not know,” he said.

“It's likely the same riders what killed the men in the stagecoach,” said
Jack.

“Or other riders altogether,” said Marston.

Wendell fired his rifle in the air to announce their arrival.

“If anyone is still breathing in these walls, show yourself,” he said.
“We are not here for trouble. We've been traveling for endless days and we've come
only to make a home. We will work. We will be good citizens of Wolf Creek.”

There was no response. The wind howled through the hollow buildings.
Wendell set the boys to gathering the bodies and burying them on the edge of town.
He asked the women to go
from door to door and check for life or
supplies. He would go with them, for protection. He gave his young confidante a
pistol, as well.

Working together, the men had the graves dug before sundown. They set the
bodies one by one at the bottom of each, and filled in all the dirt.

They found the homes vacant. Some looked as if they had been lived in but
abandoned with haste, others seemed to be packed away, as if the owners had had
their fair share of life in Wolf Creek and had decided to seek fortune elsewhere.
There was an endless turning over of property happening, explained Wendell. Some
element of the life desired was always off and people were hunting down something
quiet and peaceful, leaving their shells behind like the crabs he'd read about in
books. Each of the wagon trainers had a theory to explain what had happened there.
Most involved the sudden oncoming of some great misery. The homes that were packed
away, Marston explained, likely belong to the people who were smart enough to avoid
the snowfall, people who had some sense of what was coming. It had been almost
unbearable that year, nearly everywhere. But the bodies he could not explain. Nor
the unshakable feeling that the town had been caught by surprise in some way or
another. There was blood all over the prison. Something tragic had occurred and had
left the town full of bodies and ghosts.

There was little food to be found, but there was a well and plenty of
beds and kitchens and lots of clothing. They butchered a mule and salted the meat.
They set themselves up in the homes that were to their individual liking. Brooke
asked his wife which home she most preferred and she looked at several before
selecting one at the far end of town with a small fence at its side.

“For livestock,” she said. “Horses or pigs.”

Theirs was a small home on a small plot in a very small
town. It had two beds, a couch, a fireplace and stove, and a large wooden dining
table. For anything they needed, they scavenged. She found a piano in what was once
the saloon and she had Brooke and Marston move it into their house. In what might
have once been the inn, she opened an armoire in a back room.

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