by Joel Baker
"Give me the stick, Mark," Jesse said.
"What are you doing?" Mark asked.
"Just watch," Jesse said.
Jesse took the stick and lengthened the four lines in both directions. When all lines intersected, he stepped back and smiled.
"That's a killing box," Jesse said, pointing to the lines in the dirt. "As long as all three riders are in that square, they're ours. Cole, did you hear what I said?"
"I got it," Cole said, from the upstairs window. "If they're in that box, I own them."
They'd decided that Jesse would stand to the front and center of the box. Jesse told Mark to stand to his left and Franklin to stand to his right. They went over the possible things that could happen.
One rider forward, two back. Two forward, one back. All three riders might be in a row. They went over who would do what, and when. All of them agreed that they wouldn't make a move until Cole made his first shot. Jesse would have his shotgun and Mark his sawed off loaded with double OO buckshot. Mark was to pull both triggers and not worry about hitting the horses.
Franklin was a different problem. He didn't know anything about guns and his weapon of choice was a large bowie knife he wore in a sheath. The sheath hung from his belt like a holster and was tied to his leg just above the knee. Franklin refused to learn to shoot and Jesse was reminded of the old joke about the guy who brought a knife to a gunfight, but didn't say anything.
"Are you any good with that thing?" Jesse asked, pointing to the knife.
"Good enough, I believe," Franklin said.
He drew and threw the knife in a single blurring motion, and the knife twanged as it stuck in the oak tree twenty feet away.
"That's way cool!" Paul exclaimed. "Can you teach me to do that?"
"Not by tomorrow morning," Jesse said. "Paul, you're a key part of our plan. You're going to be very important, but I want you to promise to stay by the corner of the porch. At the first sound of a shot from anywhere, I want you to dive under the porch as fast as you can. And I mean fast!"
Paul frowned and looked disappointed. Jesse bent over and looked Paul eye to eye. Jesse put his hands on Paul's thin shoulders.
"Listen Paul to what I'm about to tell you,” Jesse said. “It's going to be real important. Tomorrow men are going to die. Not like what you may remember from the movies or television. We're talking blood and guts. Paul, we won't know if it's theirs, or ours, until it's over. Do you understand that?"
"I think so," Paul said. "But what if it's ours?"
"I don't think that's going to happen, Paul,” Jesse said. “But if it does, you're going to be the last line of defense for Hattie, your mother and sister. So here's what we're going to do. You see this gun?"
Jesse pulled a pistol from the pocket of his coat.
"Yes," Paul said.
"This pistol's called a Glock twenty six,” Jesse said. “It will fire every time you pull the trigger. This has a ten round clip. So when all the shooting and yelling is over, anyone sticks his head under that porch that isn't black or wearing a brown long coat, you pull the trigger until you start hearing clicks like this," Jesse said.
Jesse ejected the clip, cleared the chamber, pointed the gun up in the air and pulled the trigger. Paul nodded.
"I'm going to load the gun, and lay it on a piece of cloth under the porch,” Jesse said. “As soon as you dive under the porch, you scramble over and find the gun. Get your back against the cabin's foundation and stay put. The safety will be off, so don't worry about it. As soon as you're certain that the person looking at you isn't one of us, hold the gun with both hands. You start pulling that trigger and keep pulling it. Can you remember all of that?"
Paul nodded and stood up straight.
"Fire off some rounds, Paul,” Jesse said. “See how it feels."
Paul fired off a couple of rounds and Jesse reloaded the clip. He placed it under the cabin porch on a towel. Paul crawled under the porch to make sure he could find it in a hurry.
****
As the sun rose in the valley, Jesse lay in bed worrying about all the things that could go wrong.
What if they don't ride into the box? What if they bring some other men? Our main edge is their arrogance. We got one more gun than the Haskin boys know about and we're ready. I've done everything I can. What if something happens to the boys? Why didn't I make Paul stay with the women? Maybe we should have killed them in Eagle Rock.
Jesse rolled out of bed, put his shoes on, and went upstairs to where Cole lay sleeping. Jesse stood at the door of the bedroom and looked down on the young man.
My God, he's just a kid, barely sixteen. And Mark might be a better choice to be at the bedroom window. Mark could make the shot and there was Cole's hesitation in Middletown when we waited for him to pull the trigger. Besides, I'd be in a better position to protect the boys. Damn, that's selfish. No, Cole's the one to make the shot.
"Cole, wake up," Jesse said. "You better get yourself some coffee, take care of any business. Then, get to your post."
Cole rolled over. He looked at Jesse and nodded.
"One more thing Cole,” Jesse said. “We can't afford a hesitation. When you hear me say the words Blue Truck, you pull that trigger.”
"Mr. Colter, I’ll be there when you need me.” Cole said.
"You call me Jesse from now on Cole," Jesse smiled, and started down the stairs.
****
Calvin rolled over and sat on the edge of his filthy mattress. The springs protested from the weight sitting on the bed. He scratched himself. Red welts from fleabites covered his body. Blood oozed from some of them, made raw from his long dirty nails. He was naked and gave off an almost visible stench. He looked at his image in the dirty cracked mirror on the back of the door.
He ran his hands through his greasy hair, studying his bulging stomach and the rolls of fat. Hell, I'm still good looking. He grinned at the grizzled face in the mirror. Brown and yellow teeth surrounded by thick, fat lips, a bulbous, red nose, and fat pig-eyes looked back. Yep, I’m definitely big with the ladies. The Haven women are going to find that out today.
After he got dressed, Calvin walked to the next room and stuck his head in to wake Clarence.
"Wake up you tub of lard!" Calvin yelled. “We’re going to go visit our new neighbors.”
He went into the Bar and saw Teddy already sitting at the table. Calvin went and started to make coffee. The pail of water was empty.
"Teddy, go fill up this pail," Calvin said.
"Go get it yourself,” Teddy said.
Calvin turned towards his little brother and stared. He wore the same blue jeans he'd been wearing for a month. He wore a new white shirt, buttoned to the top, with a bowstring tie. The clasp at the collar was made of brass and looked like the head of a horse. It appeared as though his hair was combed. His cap lay on the table at his elbow.
"What you all dressed up for?" Calvin asked.
"None of your damn business," Teddy replied sullenly.
Clarence came staggering into the room. He was holding his head in both hands as he walked across to the table and sat down next to Teddy.
"I'm begging you, somebody, get me some coffee," Clarence pleaded.
"Can't do it, Clarence," Calvin said. "I'd like to, but little Teddy doesn't want to go get water like his big brother asked. Is that right, little Teddy?"
"I told you don't call me little Teddy no more," Teddy said.
"Well, well,” Calvin said, his fat lips pursed. “We’re all grown up, are we? Looks to be all dressed up too. Guess I'll have to get the water myself.”
Calvin picked up the empty pail and started towards the door. When he was even with the table, he threw the pail at Teddy. As the pail hit the table in front of Teddy, Calvin was on Teddy in a heartbeat. He pinned Teddy to the floor with one hand and grabbed the hilt of Teddy's knife. He pulled it and held the blade to Teddy's throat.
"Now you listen you little rat-faced turd,” Calvin whispered between clenched teeth. �
��When I tell you to do something you do it! If I ever even think you got a problem with that, I'll gut you like a fish, and make you watch while I do it. We understand each other?"
The knife pressed harder against Teddy's throat. The skin depressed and a thin red line formed. Calvin glared down into his brother's face. Teddy knew he would cut his throat, and not think twice.
Calvin saw the spittle he'd sprayed on Teddy's face. His ham fist tightened on his brother's shirt and he could tell Teddy was having difficulty breathing. Teddy was a hair's breadth from being dead and Calvin knew what would happen next. Teddy always did the same thing when he was really frightened. He wet himself.
Calvin saw the darkness spread down Teddy's pant leg. Teddy started his high girlish giggle. To Calvin it sounded maniacal. The demented shrill giggle had always caused his daddy to stop beating Teddy. It worked this time too. Calvin let go of him as if he'd been shocked by a cattle prod. He stood and picked up the pail.
"Now Teddy, you go get the water,” Calvin said in a calm voice. “So I can make poor sick Clarence a cup of coffee. Then I want you to saddle all of our horses and tie them out front. While you're outside, you clean yourself up.”
He dropped the bucket next to Teddy and stuck the knife in the floor between Teddy's legs. Teddy got up and picked up the knife. Calvin watched him closely. Teddy put the knife back in the sheath. He picked up the pail and walked out the door.
"Today's the day for little Teddy," Calvin whispered.
Clarence nodded his head with obvious effort. Two hours later, Calvin thought Clarence was recovered as much as he would. The three brothers walked out to the front of the bar, checked their weapons, mounted their horses, and started towards Haven.
As they passed the light pole in front of the bar, Teddy reached out and gave the feet of Sam Greeley a shove. As the brothers started on the road to Haven, the owner of the Shadow Bar and Grill continued to swing back and forth, back and forth.
Chapter 21
It was almost noon, and the sun was directly overhead. Jesse had spent the first part of the morning helping Mark rig a strap for his sawed-off shotgun. They'd put in screws with a long leather strap so that the shotgun would hang loosely under Mark's long coat. Mark practiced bringing it to firing position. They adjusted the strap length several times.
They were now in wait mode. The dogs had disappeared except for Boss. Jesse put the massive dog in the house and locked the screen door. He didn't want the friends, or anything else, to alert the Haskins and put them on their guard. He wanted them over confident. Mark and Paul were by the far left corner of the porch. Jesse and Franklin sat on the front steps. Franklin was whittling a piece of wood with his knife.
"Looks like we got company," Franklin said, without looking up.
Jesse looked off to the right. On the road in front of the East Ridge, three riders approached at a leisurely pace. Jesse first recognized the twins. He thought the third rider in back must be little Teddy. When the three pulled even with the oak tree, they turned towards some faint lines drawn on the ground. The horses stopped.
Jesse got up and walked to stand in front of Calvin's horse. Mark walked forward and stopped by the dirt lines at the side of Clarence's horse. Franklin kept whittling like nothing unusual was going on.
"Howdy," Jesse said and smiled.
"Well Howdy yourself," Calvin said, with hard eyes and a large grin. "You look familiar. Do I know you?"
"I suspect so, although it's been a few years. Name's Jesse Colter."
"Well, imagine that! We're the Haskin boys. I'm Calvin. You remember my brother Clarence, and my other brother Teddy?" Calvin asked.
"Oh, I remember you, Calvin,” Jesse said. “I got a broken nose to remember you by. How you been doing?"
"Not too good to tell the truth,” Calvin said. “That's why my brothers and I thought we'd head out this way and see how this darkie, and his new guests been doing."
"Who?” Jesse asked. “Oh, you must mean Franklin here. Franklin, don't you be antisocial, come on over here and say howdy to our guests."
"Yes sir, Master Colter," Franklin said.
Franklin stood and walked over to the horses. Franklin took off his hat and held it in both hands as he bobbed his head up and down. His knife was in its sheath. Franklin now stood on the right corner of the faint lines in the dirt.
"I always thought Franklin was a bit uppity," Calvin said. "Looks like you taught him his place, Jesse."
"Franklin knows all about his place,” Jesse said. “What brings you and your brothers out this way, Calvin?"
"Well, two things really,” Calvin said. “See, my brother Clarence been feeling poorly, and we figured you'd have just what it takes to fix him up."
"What would that be Calvin?" Jesse asked.
"We figure you might have some white lightning,” Calvin said. “You know the hair of the dog..."
"We got none of that, Calvin,” Jesse said. “What was the second thing?"
"Why we heard you got women out here,” Calvin said. “You know. Let us get to know them some. Maybe wax our candles so to speak. We like pretty women.”
"I knew that about you, Calvin," Jesse said smiling like rigor mortis. "By the way, how are your folks? Is your pa still kicking?"
"Nope,” Calvin said. “That old bastard died a bad way, about five years go. Course he died better than your mama and papa did."
"How so, Calvin?" Jesse asked his grin fixed like death.
"Oh, I don't know,” Calvin said. “It was a long time ago. I do remember your Daddy went whining to the law after me and Clarence busted you up some. He shouldn't have done that. Our papa was awful mad."
"Gees, I never knew that Calvin,” Jesse said. “It does explain some things though."
"Like what?" Calvin asked.
"Like the blue truck," Jesse said.
There was a moment, frozen in time. A look of confusion, then comprehension, crossed Calvin's face. The realization that something was seriously wrong registered. Jesse and Calvin locked eyes. Jesse nodded ever so slightly. Calvin's shotgun began to swing off the pommel of his saddle.
A rifle cracked. Jesse thought he heard the sound of a baseball bat hitting a watermelon. Calvin's head exploded and disappeared in a tenth of a second. Parts and bits from their brother's head showered both Clarence and Teddy.
Jesse saw Mark's coat fan outward, as his scattergun swung in a slow arc towards Clarence. Clarence looked dumbfounded at his twin brother, who still sat upright in his saddle like the headless horseman. Jesse drew his weapon.
As though moving under water, Clarence shifted his shotgun in Jesse's direction. Jesse fired as Mark pulled both triggers and Clarence was lifted from his horse. In an almost graceful arch, he rose, and then fell towards the ground. He landed on his back with a thud.
Teddy dug his heels into his horse. He was on Jesse before he could react. As he moved forward a knife whistled past his back. Teddy dove filling his hand with the hilt of his knife. He slashed Jesse in midair causing Jesse to drop his gun. As Teddy hit the ground, he rolled to his feet.
Jesse felt the flash of white-hot pain sear the side of his face and shoulder. He knew he was slashed from the cheek to the collar bone. He dropped to his knees from the force of the blow and fell face-first to the ground. Jesse looked up towards Mark, and knew that Mark was reloading, but didn't have enough time. Franklin ran to retrieve his knife. He saw Teddy reach for his pistol lying on the ground.
In the distance, he heard the crash of a screen door. He saw a black shadow fly over him, and smash into Teddy. He saw Teddy fall forward to the ground towards his pistol.
Jesse blacked out.
Jesse heard voices. He wondered who was making all those moaning sounds. He realized they were coming from him and tried to sit up. Franklin held Jesse and pressed a towel against his shoulder, hard. Jesse felt the flash of pain shoot through the right side of his head. His eyes cleared.
Someone was trying to take his coat off
. His head continued to clear. It was Cole. Jesse relaxed and Cole took first his left arm, then his right arm out of the coat. Bone-deep pain racked Jesse's shoulder. He knew Franklin held him, and that he was cutting his shirt off him. He saw his whole right side was soaked with blood.
Mark came out of the house with a pail of water and poured it over Jesse's head and shoulder. The flow of blood slowed, but Franklin continued to press the red towel against his shoulder. The water revived him further. He shook his head.
"Gees, that was fun," Jesse said.
"You okay, Jesse?" Franklin asked.
"I don’t know for sure. I’m not sure I even know what happened,” Jesse said.
"We may have a problem, Dad," Mark said.
"Help me stand up," Jesse said.
Cole and Mark helped him to stand, while Franklin tried to keep the towel on his shoulder. Jesse knew that most of the blood was coming from his face. He saw Paul standing to one side with a worried look, watching him. Jesse surveyed the killing box in front of the porch.
"Mark, get control of those horses before they stomp someone," Jesse said.
Mark collected reins and led the horses off to one side. Calvin had apparently finally lost his balance. His headless corpse lay in the dirt at the center of the square. Clarence was alive and lay towards the back under the oak tree. His head moved slowly back and forth. A small, high keening sound came from him. His chest was a bright red.
Jesse suddenly felt light headed and a bit woozy in his stomach. Cole and Mark grabbed him as his knees buckled. The wave passed and his head cleared again. He looked down at his feet and saw a dog lying on the ground. A knife wound ran the length of the dog's flank and painted it red. It was Boss. His jaws were tightly clamped on Teddy's throat.
Other than having his throat at risk of being ripped open, Teddy seemed undamaged. Jesse noted he had on a silly little string tie with a horse head clasp a small boy might wear.
