Don't Poke the Bear! (an Emmett Love Western)

Home > Nonfiction > Don't Poke the Bear! (an Emmett Love Western) > Page 7
Don't Poke the Bear! (an Emmett Love Western) Page 7

by John Locke


  “And he don’t sleep,” I say.

  “Exactly. Didn’t a thing like that ever raise your curiosity?”

  “At first.”

  “And later on?”

  “Later on I just thought of ’em as bein’ things Shrug was good at.”

  “Like talents?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Can you do any of those things?”

  “Well, I’m talented at some things.”

  “You’re better at some things than anyone I know. But can you do things no one else can do?”

  “I thought I could shoot better than anyone till I met Bad Vlad.”

  Rose sighs. “Will you just accept the fact that Wayne is different?”

  “Okay.”

  We’re quiet a minute, while she gives Shrug another drink from the bottle that takes pain away. Then I say, “How many different people are there in the world?”

  I hear Shrug laugh at my question.

  “We’re all different, you chucklehead!” Rose says.

  “I mean, how many are different in the ways you and Shrug are different?”

  “None.”

  “None?”

  “None I’ve ever met.” She leans over and puts her head at the same angle as Shrug, so they’re face to face. “Have you ever met anyone like you or me before?”

  He shakes his head.

  Rose says, “There’s just the two of us.”

  I ponder her comment so hard she has to touch my arm before I realize she’s asked me somethin’.

  “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

  Rose smiles. “That’s alright. I know what you were thinking.”

  “Tell me.”

  “You were wondering how it’s possible that the only two people in the world with special powers happen to be your two best friends.”

  “Well, it does seem a hell of a coincidence.”

  I stop ponderin’ a minute to look at their faces, to see if I can read some special meanin’ in ’em, but all I can see is they’re both smilin’ a strange smile.

  21.

  WHILE ROSE CUTS the bullet out of Shrug’s shoulder, I think about Bose Rennick, the outlaw she claims is after me. If she’s right, I’ve got problems.

  The first time I ever laid eyes on Bose Rennick, I was ridin’ through Jacksboro, Texas, and he was chained to a tree, with three lawmen guardin’ him. Later I heard he got away. Next time I saw him was on the trip west, when I met Gentry. Bose and his partner, Sam Hartman, got the drop on us, and would a’ killed us ’cept for Rose spookin’ their horses. The three things you want to know about Bose Rennick is he’s a stone-cold killer with more than twenty notches on his gun, he’s got enormous, crazy eyes, and he has the richest, most beautiful speakin’ voice a man could possibly have.

  As evil a man as Bose Rennick is, Sam Hartman is worse. He’s widely considered the cruelest man who ever lived. In the western frontier of 1861, that’s sayin’ a lot.

  While Rose always turns out to be right about her premonitions, they don’t always happen at the time she expects ’em to. That ain’t necessarily her fault, as she explains, because things like weather and sickness and accidents and coincidences can come along to delay or speed up events. The best value about this premonition regardin’ Bose Rennick is I can be on my guard. ’Cause whether he comes tonight, next week, or next month, the important thing is to be ready for him. And if Sam Hartman is with him, as I s’pect he’ll be, that’s a tall order to deal with if a man ain’t prepared. And even if he is!

  “Are Bose and Sam travelin’ together?” I ask.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Any idea when Bose will show up?”

  “Sometime after you become sheriff.”

  I give her a close look. “You sure about that part?”

  “Positive.”

  “Good,” I say, much relieved. “Since I have no plans to be sheriff, I guess I got nothin’ to worry about.”

  After Rose sews Shrug up with her catgut, we wait a couple hours till it gets dark enough to sneak Shrug into town without lettin’ him be seen by too many. We tie the two outlaw horses to the back of Rose’s wagon and I ride Major into town with Rose followin’ close behind. When we get to the back of the Spur, Rose and Shrug stay in the wagon, in the shadows. I tie Major to the rail post, and wave to the whores smokin’ on the balcony.

  “Heard you and Gentry had a big fight!” Leah says.

  “You need a place to sleep tonight, you can cuddle up with me,” Constance says.

  I tell ’em to go back inside and call for Gentry. They do, and seconds later, my Gentry comes tearin’ down the steps and throws herself in my arms and hugs me like a child hugs a puppy. When she hears a sound behind me, she jumps back.

  “Rose?” she says.

  “Hi Gentry!”

  Gentry and Rose exchange a hug, and Rose drags her over by the lamp light to get a better look at her face.

  “Your skin is absolutely flawless!” Rose says.

  “Thanks to you!” Gentry gushes.

  When Gentry turns her attention back to me, I say, “You won’t believe who else is here!”

  “Who?”

  “Shrug.”

  “What? Where is he?”

  Rose laughs. “You don’t have to pretend, Gentry. Wayne knows you were there.”

  “But—”

  “It’s okay. He’s embarrassed, but he loves you both. If you don’t talk about it, he won’t either.”

  “How did he find out?” I ask.

  “He heard you and Gentry talking on the hill this morning.”

  “He told you that?”

  “He did.”

  “When?”

  “When we were following you to town.”

  “You’ve heard him speak?” Gentry asks.

  “Of course!” Rose says. “He speaks to everyone except Emmett.”

  “Why is that, do you suppose?” Gentry asks.

  “You’ll have to ask Wayne.”

  22.

  SHRUG IS STRONG as an ox, able to climb the back steps without my help, though I fuss with him all the way up to the landin’, tryin’ to get him to take my arm in his. Truth be told, he gets up the stairs quicker and easier than I do, which is a sad thing to have to admit.

  Gentry puts Shrug in the first room and helps him get situated. I head back down the stairs to help Rose carry some of her belongin’s. We put her in the second room, so she can be next door to Shrug, and doctor him as necessary. Rose has no trouble enterin’ the room through the back door, but by the time she takes three steps, she freezes.

  A terrible look comes over her face, and she starts to swoon.

  “Rose! Are you okay?” I rush over to her, but she waves me off. She starts to stagger, and reaches for the bedpost at the foot of the bed to steady herself. But as she touches it, she gasps and withdraws her hand as if she’d been burned by fire.

  “What on earth?” I say.

  She’s pale as a ghost. She reaches her hand out to mine. I take it.

  “Get me back outside,” she says.

  “But—”

  “Please!” she whispers.

  I pull her out the back door and close it. We stand on the landin’, where the air is cool enough to see our breath. I decide not to ask how she is, figurin’ if she wants me to know, she’ll tell me. I’ve got a good hold on her arm, in case she starts to faint. While I don’t want to intrude with my words, I do want to know if she’s still feelin’ lightheaded, so I cock my head to the side to get a good look at her face, which is hard to see, ’cause the outdoor lamp light is below us, and the bedroom lamp is dimmed by the curtains. I can’t see her expression, but I hear her breathin’ gettin’ more regular.

  “Is it the room?” I say, knowin’ it can’t be the room.

  “Yes.”

  “What about it?”

  “I can’t be in there.”

  “Well, you can stay in our room. Me and Gentry can bunk in there, if that suits you.�
��

  She turns and puts her hand on my cheek. “You don’t understand. I can’t be in there, but I have to be.”

  She’s right. I don’t understand. “Why would you stay somewhere you don’t want to be? You don’t have to stay in that room. We can switch, or if you’d rather, I’m sure Shrug’ll be happy to trade with you.”

  “I have to figure out what he’s going to do.”

  “Who, Bose Rennick?”

  “The man who was in this room,” she said, in a voice so low she seemed to be mumblin’ to herself. “Do you know him?”

  I think a minute. Then say, “I do.”

  She sits down on the edge of the landin’, with her feet on the steps. Puts her hands on either side of her head, coverin’ her ears, and looks up at the sky.

  “He’s not here,” she says.

  I’m confused as hell. Not knowin’ what else to say, I ask, “Is that a good thing? Or a bad one.”

  When she turns toward me, her face is somehow easy to see. Rose has always been pale complected, her face more likely than most to pick up whatever light is available. But right now it seems to be glowing.

  “If he were here, you could kill him.”

  “Kill him? He’s just a kid.”

  “Tell me everything you remember about him.”

  “Well, his name is Bill somethin’.”

  “Think, Emmett!”

  “Bill Clarke. Calls himself William. He’s a school teacher. Fought in the Utah War, whatever that was. Tried his hand at gamblin. Been teachin’ in Lawrence, Kansas the past two years. Said he went to Pearl to ask his Aunt and Uncle for money, ’cause he wanted to get outfitted to soldier with the Missouri Guard. The Missouri State Guard.”

  We were quiet a minute. Then I said, “Why would you want me to kill him?”

  “He’s going to do something horrific.”

  “He is?”

  She nods.

  “When?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Gentry comes out and says, “What’s wrong?”

  Before I can say anythin’, Rose says, “I felt faint just now, after climbing the steps. It reminded me I haven’t eaten since this morning. Emmett was kind enough to keep me from falling.”

  “Well, I can take over,” Gentry says. “We can go downstairs and eat. Emmett, you can join us after.”

  “After what?”

  “Your meeting.”

  “What meetin’?”

  “The Mayor wants to talk to you.”

  “The who?”

  She laughs. “The Mayor.”

  “Since when do we have a Mayor?”

  “I don’t know. The way he said it, sounded like everyone should know.”

  “Well, who is it?”

  “I don’t know. He’s a small man with a giant, beautiful voice.”

  “Like Bose Rennick?”

  “Exactly. Except that no one has a voice quite like Bose Rennick.”

  I knew that to be true. “And he’s short?”

  She smiles. “Unless there’s a better word for it.”

  “When does he want to meet?”

  “Right now. He’s downstairs, waiting for you. Along with the rest of the Town Council. And wait till you see them!”

  “The what?”

  Gentry sighed. “Let’s don’t go through all this again. Go downstairs, meet the silly men, shoo them along, then meet Rose and me in the kitchen.”

  I look at Rose. “Will you be all right?”

  “Yes. Gentry can help me unpack, and we’ll get a bite downstairs.”

  “You’re going to love our new cook!” Gentry says.

  “I’m sure I will.”

  As Gentry leans to pick up one of Rose’s carpetbags, Rose and I exchange a look that tells me she’s determined to spend the night in the room she don’t want to be in.

  23.

  “WHO’RE YOU FELLERS?” I say, shakin’ hands.

  We’re sittin’ at the most secluded card table in the main room, which is still pretty noisy.

  “I’m James Ha-a-a-averhouse,” the tiny guy says.

  I figured him to be a stutterer. “Haverhouse?” I say.

  “No. Ha-a-a-averhouse. Mayor Ha-a-a-averhouse.”

  I stare at him, wonderin’ if he’s bein’ smart with me. I look him over and decide his name’s the biggest part of him. The two men with him are opposites. One’s the tallest, thinnest man I ever seen. The other is the widest. Now that I think on it, Mayor Ha-a-a-averhouse is the shortest man I ever seen. With a giant, speech-givin’ sort of voice that puts me in mind of Bose Rennick’s, though like Gentry said, no one’s got a voice like Bose. The Mayor’s voice might coax a woodchuck from its hole, but Bose’s voice would make it march right into a fryin’ pan.

  “When did you move to Dodge?” I say.

  “Long time ago,” the Mayor says. “Can’t remember, it’s been so long.”

  “Uh huh.”

  I’m sittin’ with a full-grown man who’s less than three foot tall in a town of less than 150 people, where I live and work. I believe I’d a’ run into Mayor Ha-a-a-averhouse if he’d been livin’ here even twenty minutes.

  “You have a businesses here?”

  “Of course.” He looks at the other two, and chuckles. They chuckle back. Of the four of us, I’m the only one who seems confused.

  “You’re tellin’ me you own a business here in Dodge City.”

  “Yes, of course! How could I be Mayor if I didn’t own a business or live in Dodge?”

  “That’s what I was wonderin’,” I say.

  “I own the feed store.”

  “Which feed store?”

  “Only one feed store in town I know of,” he says.

  “G. Reed’s Feed & Seed?” I say. “The one that’s two doors from this very saloon?”

  “None other.”

  “You bought it from George Reed?”

  “I did.”

  “When?”

  “I’d have to look it up to tell you the exact date. Seems like years ago. But that can’t be right, can it?”

  “No, it can’t.”

  Mayor Ha-a-a-averhouse says, “I can’t believe you haven’t seen me around town all these months.”

  “Seems unlikely, don’t it?” I say.

  The Mayor points to the other two fellers. He says, “I can understand how you might not recognize me, since I tend to blend into the crowd. But surely you know these men.”

  “Can’t say I do.”

  “You’re jokin’.”

  “Do I look like I’m jokin’?”

  “No. Please allow me to do the honors.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Mr. Emmett Love?”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s my pleasure—nay, sir, my honor!—to introduce you to my dear friends and fellow council members, Bob, Robert, and Harry.”

  I look at them.

  “There ain’t but two fellers here.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “You named three men.”

  “When?”

  “Just now.”

  The tall guy holds out his hand. “I’m Bob Robert,” he says. “This here’s Harry.”

  I nod. “How long you boys been in town?”

  They look at each other. Bob Robert says, “What’s it been Harry?”

  Harry says, “Gosh, I dunno. Long time, hasn’t it?”

  Bob Robert looks back at me, “A long time.”

  I scoot my chair back a foot, in case I need to go for my gun.

  “What’s this town council do?”

  “Do?” Bob says, lookin’ at Harry.

  Harry says, “We represent the views of the town in response to various public consultations.”

  I stare at him a long time before speakin’. “You fellers have business with me?”

  “We do,” the Mayor says.

  “Speak it, then.”

  Harry clears his voice, gettin’ ready to speak. I put up my hand and say, “Not you.
Someone else tell me.”

  The Mayor juts his tiny chin toward the far side of the room. “Your bear,” he says.

  “What about him?”

  “He’s in violation of the town’s safety laws.”

  “What safety laws?”

  “He poses a constant danger to the town.”

  “Who says?”

  They all look at each other. Mayor Ha-a-a-averhouse says, “Why, we do! We’ve held meetings, debated the situation, accepted arguments both pro and con, and come to the decision your bear has to go.”

  “For the safety and well-being of the town,” Bob Robert adds.

  “What other safety hazards are on your list?”

  They look at each other again. Harry starts to speak. Again I hold up a hand. “Not you.” I look at the Mayor. “You.”

  “Well, so far that’s the only item on the list.”

  “Uh huh. And who enforces these laws?”

  “Well, we were sort of hoping you would.”

  “Me?”

  Bob says, “We’d like to offer you the position of Sheriff.”

  “Sheriff.”

  “That’s right.”

  “You want me to be Sheriff, so I can force myself to get rid of my own bear.”

  “It’d make things a whole lot easier,” Harry says.

  I start to get up, but change my mind.

  “Who appoints the Sheriff?”

  “We do.”

  “How much would I get paid?”

  “Half of whatever you collect in fines.”

  “Fines for what?”

  “Breakin’ the law.”

  “Who makes the laws?”

  Mayor Ha-a-a-averhouse smiles. “We do.”

  “You know what I think?” I say.

  “What’s that?”

  “I think you’re part of the circus that disbanded.”

  “Circus? Why—because of the way we’re dressed?”

  I take a minute to look at the way they’re dressed. Their clothes are the only thing normal about ’em. But then I decide it don’t really matter if they’re circus folk or not. Dodge City needs a Mayor and Town Council, and a Sheriff, too. I’m just not sure I want to be part of it.

 

‹ Prev