Guns of the Waste Land: Departure: Volumes 1-2

by Leverett Butts

  “You also,” Ardiss continued as Merle dealt the next round, “managed to make a liar of me.”

  “I do not understand,” Gary Wayne said as he looked at Ardiss’ king of diamonds and Boris’ king of spades. He smiled at the six of spades Merle had dealt him. The pair this made with his six of clubs meant he got to open betting again. He threw in another nickel. Boris called, and the bet moved to Ardiss.

  “Well,” Ardiss said, matching the bet and raising it another copper, “I couldn’t very well let Greene think a civilian had fired on him from behind. Next time you left the confines of the town, he be likely to return the favor.”

  “What’s to stop him now?” Boris asked, frowning at the four of spades Merle handed him. Ardiss’ man with the axe paired with his new king of hearts, beat his pair of fours.

  “Well, for starters,” Gary Wayne said grinning at the six of hearts now giving him a three of a kind showing, “he give his word he wouldn’t.” He threw another nickel into the pot.

  “Oh sure,” Boris said, “because a man who’d endanger women and children by pulling a gun on the sheriff in the middle of a town gathering is clearly a man of honor. I fold, by the way.” He flipped his hole card, revealing a seven of clubs and pushed his hand away from him toward the pot.

  “I cannot say that anything will stop him, for true,” Ardiss said meeting the nickel and throwing in an extra penny. “However, believing that your actions are backed by my Riders and me may make him cautious. If he attacks you outside of the foolish bargain you made with him, he will believe that my men and I will descend on him and exact our vengeance.”

  “Wouldn’t you?” Gary Wayne asked as he met the raise and raised another penny.

  “I would, surely,” Ardiss said examining his cards. “You are my kinsman, and I am fairly fond of you.” He winked at Merle, who simply rolled his eyes and peered at Ardiss’ hand. Ardiss tossed in two more pennies. “I cannot speak for my men, though. Some would retaliate out of a respect for justice. Others might think it was deserved since you did back-shoot the man.”

  Gary Wayne frowned a little as he raised the bet again by a penny. “Well, he was going to kill you.”

  “Indeed, he was,” Ardiss agreed, “and I am sure most of the Riders would avenge you. However, all of this is empty speculation. I do not like having deceived anyone, even a brigand, and harrier such as Greene. Therefore, I am, as of now, deputizing you. Congratulations, Mr. Orkney, you have earned your badge.” Ardiss tossed in another cent. “I call, by the way. Let us see your cards, sir.”

  Still stunned, Gary Wayne turned his hold card revealing the jack of clubs. Ardiss turned his remaining card and showed the jack of hearts.

  Merle looked at Ardiss’ two jacks and bit his lip. “It would appear,” he said, “that someone does not like you, Ardiss.”

  “I am quite certain that many people do not, Merle,” Ardiss replied. “It comes with the job, I’m afraid.” He smiled at Gary Wayne and pushed the pot across the table to the young man. “It would appear, sir, that this is your lucky day. Your full house beats my two pair, I believe.”

  “Th-thank you, sir,” Gary Wayne stammered as he finished pulling the pot to himself and began transferring the coins to his belt purse.

  “And now, Boris,” Ardiss turned to the other young man, “if you will witness, and the good reverend here will officiate, I would like to get this young man sworn in.”

  Merle turned and reached behind him and pulled his Bible from the bar as Boris nodded his head. Ardiss called Shanghai Denny over to be a second witness then had Gary Wayne lay his hand on Merle’s Bible and had him swear to uphold the law and justice to the best of his ability and to serve and protect the people over which he was given authority. After Gary Wayne did this, Boris and Shanghai Denny signed the witness sheet, and Ardiss reached into his vest pocket and removed a tin badge.

  “It looks like you have just won about ten dollars tonight,” he observed as he pinned the badge to Gary Wayne’s shirt over his left breast. “I suggest you use it to purchase some appropriate gear.”

  “Yessir,” Gary Wayne said.

  “You will need to be apprenticed,” Ardiss added. “You need someone to show you the ropes and ease you into the job.” Ardiss looked at Merle. “Who do you think, Merle? Eric? Big Jim?”

  Merle, who had returned to his place at the card table, was idly flipping cards into a pile. When Ardiss spoke to him, Merle flipped the jack of hearts onto the pile. “I don’t think so,” he replied.

  IV.

  Now, years later, Boris crested a hill overlooking a valley cut from a long dried up river and turned back to see Gary Wayne slowly catching up with him, still chewing the inside of his cheek and staring blankly into the past.

  Yeah, it’s hard to keep the anger burning when you think about that; isn’t it Gary Wayne? No matter what the man did in the heat of passion, it cannot completely erase what he did for you as a younger man, can it?

  Boris scanned the terrain below the hill and across the ravine. The sun was getting on to noon, and it was about time they gave their mounts a rest. With any luck, they might find that the riverbed below them was not entirely dry, and they could water themselves and the horses.

  You may not be able to forgive him, but neither can you entirely condemn him. Maybe Merle knew what he was doing when he suggested you apprentice to Lancaster.

  Something on the upslope across the river caught his eye, a dark spot in the wall of the ravine. Boris shaded his eyes with his hands for a better look. When this proved little better, he reached into his saddle bag and removed a pair of small, leather covered brass binoculars and raised them to his eyes. When he looked at the shadow again, he smiled.

  “Gary Wayne!” he called over his shoulder, sure that the breeze would carry his voice away from the ravine and toward his partner. “Hurry up and get over here. You need to see this.”

  On the other side of the ravine, about halfway up the rise, Boris had found a cave, and he could see what might be relatively fresh tracks leading into it.

  Chapter Seven – Percy

  I.

  I travelled the way them gunslingers told me to for most of the morning. Sure enough, round about the time I started getting hungry again, I run up on their old campfire. I stopped for a little, long enough to take a swig or two from the canteen Redhead give me and to rip a piece of the bread off for me and strap Lippy’s feedbag onto him. Lippy didn't seem too impressed with the measly drops of water I give him, but I told him he'd have to just make do until we got to Bretton. We had to spread the canteen out as much as possible.

  It felt a little strange to put the sun at my back after I stopped for lunch, but Redhead seemed pretty sure of himself, and that map Slouch Hat give me said go straight on, so I did. Well, long about sundown, me and Lippy, we come up on their next campsite, and since it was about to be getting too dark to see, I figured it’d be best just to make camp there for the night.

  I unpacked my gear and fed Lippy from his bag again before turning my mind to a fire. There wasn’t no wood left but some charred little stubs. At first, I was stymied; it was gonna be one cold night if I didn’t have a fire, and I didn’t relish having to snuggle up to Lippy again. He was warm, sure enough, but he smelled something awful.

  Now wait a minute, I thunk to myself. If they had a fire last night, they had to find wood somewhere. Unless Gramps helped them, too. I didn’t think that last was too likely; Gramps wasn’t too fond of strangers, so I told Lippy I’d be back directly, took Gramps’ hatchet, and walked off in search of wood.

  Well, I hadn’t gone five minutes out from camp before I heard what sounded like running water somewhere. Now I admit I don’t know much, but I knowed I was in a desert, and they ain’t famous for their water, so I decided to investigate. If there was water, I figured there was also a chance of fish for dinner instead of bread.

  Sure enough, there was a little stream not even a quarter mile from camp, and what was mo
re, there was a few little scrub trees growing right up next to it. It wasn’t easy, but I managed to find me a branch on one that wasn’t too twisted and run fairly straight, so I took the hatchet to it, rolled up my pants legs (ain’t nothing worse than having to sleep in wet pants legs), took off my boots, and kinda sidled into the water to wait for a fish.

  It wasn’t too long at all before I seen a little one swimming my way. I got all set to gig it, but I just wasn’t fast enough. I missed it by just a hair, but then my stick slipped on one of the creek rocks, and I fell backside first right into stream. I was sure glad Ma wasn’t around to hear what I said next. I ain’t never had a taste for castor oil.

  “You know,” a laughing voice said from the other bank, “there are better ways to catch a dinner.”

  I looked up and seen an old man sitting cross-legged under another scrub tree. At first, I thought he was Gramps again, but when I looked closer, I seen he wasn’t nothing like Gramps. He was all dressed in leather, and his hair was mostly white, but it still had some black in it, and it was tied in two pigtails that hung down to both shoulders.

  “This is how my Gramps taught me.” I wanted to ask him what he meant, but Ma told me not to ask no questions, so I just shrugged. “You’re an Indian,” I added.

  “No, Pale Face,” he slowly rose up and limped into the water, “I am a Human Being, one of The People.”

  I didn’t know what he meant so I just grunted. He waded out to the middle of the stream and stood next to me.

  “Give me your stick.” Before I could hand it to him, he grabbed it from me and looked down at his feet. There was a whole school of fish swimming all around us now. I hadn’t even seen them coming.

  The old man muttered something under his breath and jabbed my spear into the water four times. When he brung it up again, there was three fish on it stacked on top of each other. “It’s in the wrist,” he said as he walked back to the bank carrying my spear and the fish and favoring his left leg. I just stood where I was, wondering how Ma would feel if I beat up an old cripple and stole his fish. I had just about decided against it since there wasn’t likely to be no churches anywhere nearby when the old man got to his tree and turned around.

  “Are you coming?” he waved the spear in my direction. “These fish cannot eat themselves, and I do not have all night.”

  II.

  I had left my shoes on the other side of the creek, and even at sunset, the desert sand was awful hot on my toes. Fortunately, he didn’t lead me too far away. He had a tepee set up just over the hill from the creek, about five minutes off. For a fella with a limp, he sure could move fast. By the time I got to his tent, he had already disappeared inside it.

  I stood outside wondering what to do next, and, to tell God’s honest truth, cursing Ma for making me make that stupid promise or else I could just ask him if I could come in when he stuck his head out of the tent flap.

  “Is it against your religion to enter a tepee, Pale Face?” he asked me.

  “No, sir,” I said.

  “Do you have some ritual you must perform before you enter a dwelling?”

  “No, sir,” I said.

  “Alright, then,” he nodded and ducked his head back in the tent, but I wasn’t sure if that was an invitation or not, so I still didn’t know whether I should just go in, too, or wait.

  “What is your name, Pale Face?” the old man asked from inside.

  “Percy,” I said. “Percy Murratt.”

  “Do I need to invite you in, Percypercymurratt?”

  “Yes, sir,” I said. “I think so.”

  “Well, Percypercymurratt, please come in and have a meal with me,” he said.

  It didn’t take him long to clean and cook the fish. He had kept his fire embers smoldering while he’d been out. We sat across from each other in his tepee with the fire pit in between us. As we ate, I couldn’t help but notice how he’d every now and then wince and grab his upper left thigh when he didn’t think I was looking. I think he caught me staring once, but he didn’t say nothing about it, just fingered more fish into his mouth.

  “Do you know how the world was made?” he asked around his food as he chewed.

  “Ma told me all about it when I was little,” I replied. “I also read the bible a bit when I was learning my letters.”

  The old man just nodded silently, so I continued. “God done it in seven days,” I said. “At first, there wasn’t nothing, but God, he separated heaven and earth. He said, ‘Let there be light,’ and it come when he looked at the water.”

  “Hmm,” the old man threw the bones of his fish into the fire and motioned me to do the same. “Where did these waters come from?” he said.

  “I reckon they come when he separated earth and heaven,” I said, tossing my own bones into the fire. The fire sparked up real bright when I done it, and kind of startled me like.

  “Your tale does not make sense, White Man,” he reached behind him and pulled around a little leather bag. “This is earth,” he winced as he kicked the dirt floor of his tepee. “You cannot drink earth. Where did the water come from? Where did the earth come from? Or the heavens?”

  “God made them, I told you.”

  “No, you said he separated them one from another.” He reached into his little bag and pulled out a long wooden pipe with gray feathers hanging from one end. “Then you said he created them after he separated them. How can someone make something that is already there?” He reached back in his bag for a thick smelling tobacco then started to fill his pipe.

  “Ma said God can do anything.”

  “White Man’s God is very powerful indeed if he can create something after it has been created.” He lit his pipe using an ember from the fire and took a long draw from it. He passed the pipe to me. “You smoke with me, White Man,” he said, “and I will tell you a tale.”

  I took the pipe from him and inhaled. I hadn’t ever smoked before, but I had seen Gramps do it my whole life. He’d almost always smoke an old corn cob in the evening after dinner while Ma cleaned up. I don’t remember him coughing that much, though.

  The old man looked at me all serious like.

  “The water and earth were always there, but it began with the water.”

  III.

  The long before time was a time of chaos. The earth was covered with dry deserts and volcanoes. Into this chaos, the Great Sky Father sent the water, the Great River Daughter, to heal the earth. She came first as a trickle but soon grew into a torrent that cooled the volcanoes and soaked the earth.

  From the water soaked earth, there grew a great Yucca tree. The River Daughter looked upon Yucca and was well pleased. She came to him, and they lay together, the tree and the water, and she carried his seeds throughout the land. Some of the seeds, those that took after their father the Yucca, grew into other trees and plants. Other seeds took after the River Daughter, now the River Mother. They had arms and legs and trunks like Father Yucca, but they were fluid and could move about like the River Mother. Indeed, when one of them was cut, muddy water flowed from it like spring water from the earth. These were the animals.

  One animal was the greatest of all, for it most resembled both parents. It stood straight and tall like Father Yucca. In fact, its seed had not been carried downstream by River Mother. She had instead loosened the earth around Father Yucca’s roots so that they could spread. As they spread, River Mother smoothed their skins, making their passage through the desert clay easier until they could break the surface of the earth and reach, like their father, to the sky.

  Even though this animal had roots that sunk far into the ground and sprung from the roots of Father Yucca, his spirit moved like his mother. Sometimes he could be calm like River Mother when she trickles through a stream on a warm summer day. At other times, he could be treacherous and violent, as when River Mother brings the melted ice down from the mountain when winter is over, and spring has begun.

  Only this animal could reason with ability close to that of Father
Yucca and Great Sky Father. He was called, therefore, Man. But reason has two edges. It can help man achieve his higher nature, yes, but it also can tempt man to break his roots and call it freedom. This is what happened to man in the longbefore time when chaos was ending, and order began.

  IV.

  We passed that pipe back and forth, and it seemed like days that we set there, the old man talking and me listening to every word. After a while, I started to see his story played out in the smoke drifting up from his fire. I could see the tree and the river, and I watched plants grow, and people start to poke out of the ground. I tried shaking my head, but it didn’t do nothing but make them people sway back and forth, waving their hands in the air and looking like they was crying and angry about being stuck in the ground like that.

  I figured I could relate on account of how many times I had found myself stuck in the river mud after trying too long to spear a fish. I remembered Gramps would always laugh at me as he pulled me free.

  “I don’t know why you’re squalling so,” he’d say, “There’re worse things to be than stuck with your feet in the ground. Most folks,” and here he’d glance out to Pa’s grave, “ought to spend more time there.”

  When I looked back across the fire pit at the old man, he looked like Gramps again but only for a second when the smoke come in between us. I felt like it was Gramps telling me to pay more attention, so I done that.

  “One day Coyote spoke to the Men. Coyote grew from the seeds that were carried by River Mother, so his feet were not bound to the earth and he could move freely. Coyote always traveled near River Mother to be close to her nourishing waters, and he spoke of all the places he had seen, all the places River Mother flowed.”