Slow John

by C. J. Petit

  “So, you gonna tell me how you got that name?”

  John smiled and told the story, leaving Pappy grinning.

  “That’s a lot better story than how I got mine. Lost my two front teeth in a barroom brawl a few years back, and everybody started calling me Pappy ‘cause it made me look like a toothless old man. Now, you can tell me where you got all those horses and mules. I see you’re ridin’ the best of ‘em. So, where did you get them?”

  “Two of the horses and one of the mules, I bought when I got out of the army. The others came from some bad apples who wanted what I had. I was jumped by four men east of Cayote who seemed to make a habit out of waylaying travelers. That’s where I got the extra horses. The black was one of them.”

  Pappy’s eyes grew wide. “You got those bad boys all by yourself?”

  “They seemed to have underestimated my firepower.”

  “You could be a good man to have around, Slow John. You stayin’?”

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  “Well, a lot of the folks around here would feel better if you did.”

  “I’ll think about it, Pappy. I think I’ll go over to Washington’s and ask about that pistol that Jack bought.” he replied as he turned back to the street with a wave.

  He left the smithy and stepped up on Cross, turned him down the street and walked him west until he reached the dry goods store, dismounted and entered the place, having to let his eyes adjust to the loss of light.

  Fred Washington was polishing the glass on the display cases at the front of the store and glanced over.

  “Good morning, young feller. What can I do for ya?”

  “I’m looking for some baby things for my sister-in-law. Do you have any?”

  “Not much, but what I’ve got is down that third row at the end.”

  “Thanks.”

  John took a left at the third row and scanned the goods on his way to the end like most shoppers, seeing if he needed anything else. He reached the end and found some baby sleeping dresses made of a soft flannel. He picked up two, both in a convenient yellow, rather than pink or blue. He also found a stack of diapers, so he took the bunch, along with a package of safety pins. He didn’t see any more baby items, so he returned to the front and set them on the counter.

  Fred Washington set his cleaning cloth down on the counter and stepped over to handle John’s purchase.

  “I’ve never seen you before, have I?”

  “No, Sir. I’m John Flynn. My family lives north of here a way. They thought I was killed in the war, and then when they homesteaded out here, I didn’t know where they were. I just found them yesterday.”

  Fred grinned and shook John’s hand.

  “Now, that’s really something. They musta been plenty surprised when you showed up.”

  “They were, especially my brother Jack. He lit out when he saw me coming because I had found a young woman he had assaulted and then threw in the river assuming she was dead. I found her in Plum Creek and she told me about it, so I’m looking for him and he’s not going to be happy when I find him.”

  Fred shook his head. “No, Sir, that ain’t right at all. That explains why he was in here this morning buyin’ a pistol. I swear that boy didn’t know where the trigger was.”

  “That reminds me. Give me four boxes of 12-guage shotgun shells, #3 or 4 buckshot if you’ve got them.”

  “I always have lots of shotgun shells on hand.”

  “So, what kind of pistol did Jack buy?”

  “A Manhattan Navy. Bought the ammunition, too, but not a cleaning kit.”

  “Was it the five-shot or six-shot version?”

  “The six-shot, and the fool loaded all six-cylinders, too.”

  “Thanks for the information. It’s good to know. Anything else I need to know about?”

  Fred glanced at the door and then said, “Handy Lewis and his boys are all waiting on my next shipment of ammunition for their Henrys and Swede’s Winchester. One of ‘em wants cartridges for his Spencer, too. The shipment will be here on today’s train. I think they’re plannin’ on somethin’.”

  John’s eyebrows went up. “So, do I. How many rifles do they have?”

  “Nearest I can figure, Swede has his new Winchester, Corn Jackson and Jim Walters have Henrys and Pete Smith’s got the Spencer, but all of ‘em have pistols, too.”

  John nodded and asked, “Do you have any Spencer cartridges in that shipment?”

  Fred nodded. “I’ve got four boxes of ‘em.”

  “Well, I’ll buy all of them ahead of time, so you can tell them you don’t have any and it’ll keep you an honest man.”

  “You want all four boxes?”

  “I wouldn’t have cared if you were getting forty. I’ll pay for all four and you can just set them aside for me when I come back.”

  Fred was tickled pink to be able to pull one over on those miscreants, and replied, “I can do that. Do you have a Spencer, by the way?”

  “Yes, Sir. Bought it when I mustered out.”

  “Pappy said you stopped by yesterday in a uniform. He said you go by Slow John. Is that right?”

  “I’ve been called that since I was five.”

  John gave him the story before he asked, hoping it would be the last time, but knew it wouldn’t be. Then, he added the story about being jumped on the way to Cayote.

  “You got all four of those bastards?”

  “Yup, and I didn’t lose any sleep over it, either.”

  Fred shook his hand again.

  “You’re gonna be a handy feller to have around. And don’t call me ‘sir’ again. It makes me feel old. Call me Fred.”

  “I appreciate it Fred. What’s the damage?”

  “Including the cartridges, $14.45.”

  John counted out the money and handed it to Fred.

  “Who’s having the baby, Slow John?”

  “Jack’s wife, Eliza. She’s probably going to be a widow soon, and that’s not a good situation for any woman to be in. But, she’s got her two sisters to help her.”

  “Family is important, Slow John.”

  “It is. Thanks, Fred. I’ll be seeing you around.”

  “I hope so. You take care now, Slow John.”

  John waved, walked out to the street, hung the baby bag on his saddle horn, then untied the gelding and stepped up. As he settled into the seat, he spotted the train depot at the western edge of town and when he saw the telegraph wire overhead, something popped into his mind.

  John trotted the gelding west, and stopped at the small Western Union office, dismounted and flipped the reins over the hitching post. He stepped down and opened the door to the room. Once inside, the telegrapher turned and waved as he listened to the chirping of the instrument.

  John pulled out a sheet of paper and began to write:

  He handed the operator the message and paid his forty cents before returning outside and getting back in the saddle for his return trip.

  As he rode, he ruminated over all the information he had received. Jack bought a pistol, but didn’t have a clue how to use it, but obviously intended to do just that. The Irish-haters were waiting for more ammunition, which meant they were planning on using it, and probably soon. As improbable as it seemed, he wondered if Jack was going to use that pistol to try something to keep word from getting out about what he had done. That didn’t make much sense, either.

  John figured he must have bought it for protection, either from him or if he ran back east.

  As John had been riding past the saloon, Jack was looking out the batwing doors for Handy and the boys and caught a glimpse of Slow John riding past. He blinked, and the rider was gone. Jack realized who he had just seen. It was the man that Patrick and the rest used to fool him yesterday. Now, he wasn’t even wearing that uniform, which reinforced his belief in the conspiracy theory.

  As John rode the last half mile north to the farm, he heard the whistle of the noon train approaching the town. When he heard the whistle, he smile
d, realizing that the three-week ride from Bellevue would only take nine hours on the train. But then, he wouldn’t have found Kate, either. But the train also meant that the ammunition would be arriving in Washington’s store in a few hours.

  John cut across the front yard and heard rifle fire from out in the fields, and correctly assumed that the Henrys were being tested. He pulled up in front of the house and stepped down, tied off Cross and took down the bag from his saddle horn.

  He stepped up onto the porch and hesitated for a moment, thinking he should knock, but realized that he was home and just opened the door and went inside. He found Martha, Eliza, and both mothers in the main room, but no Kate. He doubted if she was still sleeping, but had no idea where she was.

  “Eliza, I found these at Washington’s when I was there. The shotgun shells aren’t for you, so I’ll take those out.”

  John removed the boxes of shells, set them on the table, and handed the bag to Eliza, who looked inside and smiled, as she took out the two flannel baby dresses.

  “Thank you so much, John. This was very thoughtful, and the diapers will be put to good use, too.”

  “Just don’t go asking for any help when you need to change them. I still feel like I owe my sweet Mamai for making her change mine. Luckily, I stopped using them when I was nine.”

  John was pleased with the expected laughter from the women, and when they finished, he asked, “Where’s Kate?”

  Martha replied, “I don’t know. She slept late, then returned to her room and closed the door just before I left.”

  “I think I’ll go and see her in a minute. When are the men coming in from the fields? I think we have a problem brewing from those menaces in town, and I think it’s going to be soon.”

  “They’re coming in for lunch in a little while. Did you want me to keep them here?”

  “If you would. I’ll be back in a little while. We need to get ready. I want to get my Spencer and Winchester down from the loft.”

  “Is it going to be that bad, Slow John?” asked his mother.

  “I think so. They told Fred Washington that they wanted a lot of ammunition, and its coming in on the train that just arrived. Oh, and Jack went and bought a pistol and ammunition, too. He may just be arming himself for an escape on the next eastbound train, but he may be helping that bunch, too.”

  “Surely, he wouldn’t do that.” said Mary.

  “Mom, he raped and murdered a woman and tried to murder Kate. What isn’t he capable of doing?”

  John turned and left the house. He could have jogged to the Walsh house, but he wanted to save every second now, so he quickly boarded Cross and rode straight across to the Walsh home, arriving in just two minutes. He knew all the other Walshes and Flynns were accounted for, so only Kate was in the house. He was stepping down before Cross stopped and hit the ground walking, flipped the reins over the hitch rail and took a long jump onto the porch, skipping the steps. He didn’t knock, but just opened the door and walked inside. He found one closed bedroom door and assumed it was Kate’s, so he stepped over and rapped on the door. After ten seconds with no answer, he just opened the door. If Kate was getting changed, she should have said so.

  But Kate wasn’t getting changed. She was sitting on her bed with her Cooper Pocket pistol, pointed at her stomach. She had been so deep in thought as she contemplated her own death that she hadn’t even heard John’s rapping on the door. When he suddenly appeared, her head jerked in his direction. Both were shocked for different reasons.

  “Kate, what the hell are you doing?” John shouted as he stepped forward quickly and yanked the pistol from her hand.

  Kate looked at his face, didn’t know who he was, and just gaped at him.

  “I…I had to. I had to. I can’t let it live.” she stuttered in a detached voice that John couldn’t even recognize.

  “It? What are you talking about, Kate?” John asked forcefully.

  “Their baby. Their evil, satanic baby. They put their seed in me and made a little devil. I can’t let it live. Give me my gun. I need to kill it and me, too. I’m the vessel of their wicked, sinful spawn.”

  John looked into her wild, unfocused eyes and showed her the gun.

  “Kate, you can’t shoot yourself. You’re too precious. Don’t you understand?”

  Kate stared at the pistol for a second, blinked twice, then her eyes grew wider and she whispered, “Shoot myself?”

  She then looked at John, but didn’t see him.

  John peered into her eyes, but they looked past him, into the distance. He stood in front of Kate, sat on his heels bringing him to her eye level and took her hands.

  “Kate, this is Slow John. Can you hear me?”

  John was beginning to panic as he was losing Kate. Kate was in there somewhere, but he guessed that discovering she might be pregnant with a Murphy-created baby just was the final rock on the pile that made the whole wagon come crashing to the ground. All the pain and the hurt that she had experienced was now erupting in her mind with this latest, and almost permanent reminder.

  John looked into her almost lifeless eyes and said softly, "Tá mo chroí agat.”

  Kate, deep inside herself, heard the Gaelic phrase and started repeating it in her mind for some reason she didn’t understand.

  John finally admitted to himself that she was lost, and slowly stood, pulling her up from the bed and led her down the hallway, out of the house. When he reached the gelding, he lifted her into his arms and managed to step up into the saddle. He didn’t use the reins as he held onto Kate, because he was receiving no help from her as her arms remained listlessly by her side.

  He steered Cross back to the Flynn home with his knees and a few minutes later arrived in the yard, stopped in front of the house, and shouted, “I need some help!”

  Not ten seconds later, Dennis, Patrick and Martha all left the house and saw John on his horse with Kate in his arms.

  “What happened, John?” asked Dennis.

  “I’ll tell you when we get inside. I’m going to lower Kate to you, Dennis. She can walk, but she needs to be guided.”

  Dennis nodded as John slowly lowered Kate to his waiting arms. Once she was standing, John quickly dismounted, and took Kate from Dennis and walked her up the stairs and into the house, where everyone was waiting.

  He sought out Catherine Walsh and motioned her over.

  “Mrs. Walsh, Kate was in her room and she was going to shoot herself. She thinks she’s pregnant from the Murphys and said she had to kill the evil baby and herself with it because she was the vessel of the evil spawn. She didn’t even know me. We need to have someone look after her.”

  Kate’s mother looked at her daughter’s distant look and understood what John had told her.

  “I’ll take care of Kate. John, you need to explain to the men what you already told us.”

  John released Kate to her mother and watched as Mrs. Walsh guided Kate into a bedroom.

  John blew out his breath, tried to put his mind in order, and said, “When I went to North Platte this morning, Fred Washington told me that those hotheads, led by Handy Lewis, asked when they could get a lot of ammunition. The ammo just arrived on the train. Now, I don’t know if they’ll try anything right away, but I don’t think they’ll delay too long, and Jack went and bought a pistol as well, but I don’t know if he’s helping them or just planning on protecting himself for a run back east. If he’s helping them, then they’ll know about everything you may think is secret. But, I don’t believe they know I’m here or that you all have rifles. I’ll show you how to shoot the pistols shortly, but I think it might be wise if you stayed in the house this afternoon, and just in this house. I had planned on staying in the barn, but I think I can do a better job out in the open. First, everyone needs to eat and drink plenty of water. I have a few canteens we can fill and scatter around.”

  “It’s going to be that bad, Slow John?” asked his father.

  “I hope not, but it’s better to prepare
for the worst and laugh about it later, than not prepare and weep about it afterwards.”

  “We’ll finish getting lunch ready.” Mary said as she stood and left to go to the kitchen, followed by the other women.

  “Let’s go and get those pistols.” John said.

  _____

  Jack was still anxiously waiting for Handy and the others to show up. It was past noon and the train arrived a half an hour ago. He was getting ready to leave when Handy Lewis, Lou Harrison, Swede Jorgensen, Pete Smith and two others he didn’t know walked into the saloon. They all were wearing pistols, just like he was, thought Jack, but four of them had rifles, too. Two of the rifles looked alike, but the third one was different and so was the fourth.

  “He should get ‘em in another hour.” Lou Harrison was saying as they pushed their way into the saloon.

  Handy spotted him and shouted, “Hey, Flynn, are you buyin’?”

  Jack grinned. “Sure.”

  Then he turned to the bartender and yelled, “Set ‘em up, barkeep!”

  While his head was turned, Handy turned to Lou Harrison, snickered, and muttered, “Idiot.”

  The men began rearranging table and chairs until they could cluster together. They were the only patrons, so they felt free to say whatever they felt like saying.

  “So, what’s the play, Handy?” Jim Walters asked.

  “Our new friend, Jack Flynn, over there knows where the Irish keep all their money, so we have a little extra incentive to get rid of ‘em. Now, we know they’ve only got four shotguns, but now we know they only have birdshot, so as long as you don’t get too close, all they can do is give you a new pimple.”

  The all had a good laugh and Handy waited to continue with the plan.

  “We’ll do this as soon as we get the ammunition from Washington’s. The menfolk should all be out in the fields doin’ all that sodbuster crap. We’re not gonna use the road, ‘cause that’s where they’ll be lookin’. We’ll go east about a mile and then turn north. We spread out and walk the horses, so we don’t leave a big dust cloud. When we get within a mile of the Flynn house, we stop, and Pete walks in with his Spencer while Swede, Corn and Jim follow him in with their repeaters. Pete will stay on the south side of the barn, and should be able to pick off a couple and then the repeaters will pick off the rest of them that try to get back to the house. Any of ‘em that run off, the rifles will chase after ‘em. When the rest of us hear the shooting start, we’ll ride down to the front of the house and take care of the women.”