by Jack Bates
“Yes, sir, Mr. Langston,” the man said. He left the porch. Cal scratched his jaw and turned to face Nils. He moved his eyes in the direction the man went and without missing a beat, Nils went back around behind the house. It wasn’t long before Cal caught sight of Nils following the man down the street. If Cal got the job, one of his first official actions would be to pin a deputy’s star on the boy.
“Whether or not it is murder will be up to the court,” Olds said.
“Mr. Langston, we have witnesses who saw your grandson shoot one man in the back of the head and kill him before he drew and shot a deputy of this town.”
“How do we know it wasn’t self defense?”
“Kind of hard for a guy to attack when he’s walking in front of another man.”
“Perhaps my grandson feared for his safety, Mr. Haskell. If he had felt safer in this town, he wouldn’t have run off and put himself in danger.”
“It all started at the Three Trees, Mr. Langston. The dead man accused your grandson of cheating. Deputy Books was just escorting them to the jail to hash it all out.”
“I see. And was this your idea as sheriff?”
“I ain’t exactly sheriff yet, Mr. Langston. That’s up to your council vote in the next couple of hours.”
“And if I have anything to say about it, you won’t be. You’re just a gunslinger trying to hold onto the past, young man. The world doesn’t have a place for hip-shooters like you. David. Get me to the carriage. We have to go prepare for the council meeting.”
“But Daddy, my son is in there.”
“That whore’s son is in there, you fool. Now do as I tell you.”
David Langston helped his father up and led him down the steps. At the bottom, Olds Langston looked up at Cal. He raised his cane and pointed the silver tip at him. “Don’t count on the job, son. You’ve gone and made a mess of things. It’s not how we like it in Sorrow.”
David Langston helped his father into the carriage. As he climbed in himself he turned and gave Cal an apologetic smile before the old man’s hand drew down the blind of the carriage door’s window.
*****
Doc joined Cal on the porch. “You’ve had a hell of a first day in Sorrow,” he said.
“Looking to be my last.”
“That’d be a shame.” Doc held out his hand. “We haven’t actually met. Robert Pigg.”
Cal shook it. “Cal Haskell. I think I know why they call you Doc.”
“My wife says it’s why I’m so short with people. I think they’re all laughing at me. I tell her it’s because life is wasted on humans. We do everything we can to shorten what’s already a blink of the eye.”
“Speaking of time, Doc, how’s Books doing?”
“The bullet went clean through but I won’t know about his spine until he gets his strength back. He’d be doing better if we had a hospital here. All we have is my practice here and John Lowell over on Second Street. Three sawbones isn’t really enough for a city this big.”
“Who’s the third?”
“My wife Abbie. She’s going to have to help me take Langston’s leg.”
“He’s going to pull through?”
“You did a good job with the tourniquet. You don’t get the job as sheriff, I’ll hire you here.”
*****
Just then the shouts of the young Frosen boy sounded. Cal and the doc watched him kick up the dirt beneath his boots. “Sheriff,” Nils said. His face was flushed and he was breathing hard from running. “Fella went into the telegraph office. I went in after he left and talked to Walt Gregory, he does the sending and receiving. He told me he couldn’t tell me who the man sent a wire to, but when he wasn’t looking, I snatched the piece of paper the man wrote out the message on and took a look at it.”
“Well what did it say?”
“It was going to Senator Leroy Allen down in Lansing.”
“That’s our capitol,” Doc said. “He’s calling in his IOUs.”
Nils nodded. “The note said a situation had arisen here in Sorrow and O.L. needs his assistance.”
Cal thought on it. “These guys really don’t want a lawman, they want a puppet.”
“Not all of them, Cal,” Doc said.
“No, but the moneymen do.”
“What you going to do, sheriff?” Nils asked.
Cal thought on that, too. “Well, I guess I should go see if I am the sheriff.”
*****
A crowd had gathered outside the library. It was made up of mostly men, but there were some women in the midst. One of them was Miss Jenny from the Three Trees. She wasn’t in her saloon girl attire, though. She wore a more demure dress with a higher neckline. When she spied Cal, she made her way over to him.
“Thought I was going to be late,” Cal said.
“Mayor came out and said the meeting was going to be a closed one.”
“What’s so darn important they’re holding a meeting behind closed doors?”
“You, I imagine.” Miss Jenny’s eyes danced with a bit of mischief.
Cal studied the doors. David Langston sat in a wooden chair with spindly legs. Next to him stood the man Olds Langston had sent to the telegraph office. Cal cocked his head and gave Miss Jenny a wink. “Well, guess if they’re talking about me, I should be in there.”
“I knew you were trouble,” Jenny said. Although she said it in a way that made Cal think he enjoyed the idea.
A man nearby broke the spell. “I’ll tell you what they don’t want us to hear,” he said. “It’s the railroad.”
“What about it?” Cal asked. “Thought it was necessary for shipping out the materials you all bring in.”
“Mister, many of our families have been here a lot longer than any of those men in there.”
“Even Langston?” Cal asked.
“Langston crawled out of the muck along the shores long before the All Mighty made man out of clay. Maybe if he had waited, he wouldn’t be the mean old bastard he’s become. That man and his cronies want to wipe out our homes to lay the rails for the railroad.”
“Ain’t they offering you a fair price for your land?”
The man shook his head. “They aren’t offering us anything. They claim because it’s for the benefit of the community they don’t have to. We’re a little upset by that kind of talk and they know it. It’s one of the reasons why they closed the doors.”
Cal went up to the door where he was met by the man who had sent the telegram. Cal tipped his hat to the man as well as to David Langston and reached for the door knob. The other man knocked Cal’s hand away from the knob.
“Closed meeting, buddy,” the man said.
“Why’s that?”
“Important business,” David Langston said. He didn’t look at Cal when he said it. His focus was on his shoes.
“Something to do with the telegram he sent to Senator Allen down in Lansing?”
The man’s eyes grew wide then narrowed the way a snake’s will when it wants to strike. Cal saw the blow coming and dodged it, but not without landing a solid punch on the side of the man’s jaw. The man stumbled forward a bit and regained his balance. When he stood straight again he had his fist cocked back to throw at Cal, but the would-be sheriff was quicker and landed a punch to the man’s midsection. As the man doubled over Cal again brought a fist down on the man’s jaw, flattening the man on the plank porch of the library.
“Look out!” Jenny yelled.
Cal spun around in time to see David Langston holding a chair over his head. He had been about ready to smash it down on the back of Cal’s head when Miss Jenny had yelled. David Langston stood frozen on the library’s porch. He slowly lowered the chair to the ground where he left it.
“That’ll show him, Langston,” a man in the crowd yelled. It elicited laughter from the people around him.
David Langston stretched his neck, fixed his coat, and stormed off away from the library.
Cal stood above the man he’d leveled with a punch to the j
aw for a moment, his fists clenched, his eyes set, but when the man didn’t budge, Cal relaxed. He looked up at the mystified crowd.
“Folks, my name is Cal Haskell. I came here from Wyoming to be your sheriff but after what happened this afternoon, I don’t know if that’s going to happen. If I am the sheriff, though, the first thing I aim to clean up is them.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the library doors. There was an immediate cheer from the crowd.
*****
A second later the doors opened and Bertram Overmeyer stood in the middle of the door way, his massive bulk filling most of the door frame. He looked down at the motionless figure at Cal’s feet.
“Oh—good. You’ve made it, Haskell, come on in.”
Cal tipped his hat to the crowd and followed Overmeyer into the library. Neither man spoke as they went through the foyer and into the reading room that had been rearranged for that night’s meeting. The only woman on the council stopped midsentence to stare at Cal.
“What is he doing here?” Olds Langston asked. His thin breath hissed out of him.
“Well, sir, I figure you’re all sitting in here discussing me. That concerns me.”
Flath spoke next. “Why is that, Haskell?”
“No disrespect, Mr. Flath, but four of you know me. These kind people over here haven’t had the pleasure of meeting me.”
“They’ll vote on our recommendations,” Langston said.
“Which is all the more reason why I felt I should meet them.”
“This is a waste of time,” Flath said. “Besides, we’re not even discussing you right now.”
“Oh, give it a rest, Ollie,” the only woman on the council said. “You always were quick to side with the big boys in school. I’m not surprised you behave the same way now.” She looked at Cal and smiled. “Come in, young man. Let these old eyes get a look at you.”
Cal stepped closer.
“I understand you come from Wyoming,” one of the other men said.
Cal figured it was Anthony Capparucio, but he didn’t want to risk offending him by answering with the wrong name. “Yes, sir,” he said.
“What brought you here?”
“The mayor here. He and my father are old friends from the war. I was already a deputy out there for a really good man.”
The second un-introduced man spoke. “So you have some experience with the law?” Cal figured he was Jeremiah Zenas.
“Yes, sir.”
“If what you did today is what you consider experience with the law, I would say we need to keep looking.” Zenas pushed the brim of his hat back from his forehead. He put his hands on his hips and swung himself around to look at the others.
Cal looked at Langston. “Mr. Langston, what you all want, and by you all I mean the four of you that had me over to the mayor’s for brandy and cigars this afternoon, is someone who will step in front of a bullet to protect your coffers.”
Langston slammed the silver ball handle of his walking stick against the table. “I will not suffer your insolence, Mr. Haskell.” A fit of coughs erupted from Langston. Flath and Jonson stood and patted the old man on the back. Langston nodded his approval, cleared his throat, and waved a dismissive hand in Cal’s direction.
“The man nearly cost my grandson his life this afternoon,” Langston said. “I say we begin a new search. I vote no.”
This statement brought forth a chorus of disapproval from the remaining three council members. Flath continued to shout the vote was out of order and that they should get back to the subject at hand. Overmeyer banged his gavel several times but the two sides of the council continued to argue. Eventually Overmeyer sat back in his council president seat, lit his cigar, and waited for the bickering to stop. When it did, Aggie St. Pierre was the first to speak.
“Mr. Haskell, do you know why our last sheriff left?” she asked.
“I was told he couldn’t stomach the weather.”
“What he couldn’t stomach was the childish behavior of these four men. They all but tied his hands together whenever he tried to do his actual job. When he didn’t do what they wanted him to, they started looking around again for someone who would.”
“Like moving the homeowners off their land for the sake of the railroad?” Cal asked.
Aggie studied Cal. “Interesting that they brought in the son of a friend.”
“You’re assuming a bit much there, Aggie,” Overmeyer said. He jetted a stream of bluish-gray smoke into the air.
“I plan on answering only to the law, Miss St. Pierre,” Cal said.
“You say that now, Mr. Haskell,” Aggie said. “What about when they try to persuade you?”
“I just dealt with their persuasion, didn’t I Mr. Overmeyer?”
Overmeyer chuckled around his cigar. He raised and lowered and his eyebrows.
Aggie looked across the table at Olds Langston. “Tell you what, since you called the vote, I say yes. Although, to be honest Mr. Haskell, I pity you if you get and take this position.”
“No one has called for a vote!” Flath yelled.
“I vote yes as well,” said Capparucio.
“As do I,” said Zenas.
“Of course you would,” Langston said. His contempt for the Zenas family was quite apparent.
“That’s three for and one against,” Aggie said. “Are you two boys abstaining from this out of order vote?”
Ollie Flath said, “I vote no.”
“Where is Schmidt?” Langston asked. “Get him in here to haul this recalcitrant out of here.”
Overmeyer kept his eyes on Cal. “He’s indisposed,” he said. A ghost of a grin slipped on Overmeyer’s chubby face.
The realization his muscle man had been taken out hit Langston like a slap. Langston’s breathy voice became even wispier. “Jonson.”
“It’s a no from me,” Jonson said. Cal did detect a slight uneasiness about the vote.
“What a surprise,” Aggie said. “Three for, three against. And you get the deciding vote, Bertram. What say you?”
Overmeyer appeared to relish the moment. He chuckled for a bit and then slapped his hands down on the table. Leaning on one elbow, he shook a finger at Cal and laughed. “If I didn’t know your dad.”
“Don’t let that sway you, Overmeyer,” Langston said.
“You’re every bit the man he was,” Overmeyer said. “It’s why I sent him the wire.”
Langston put his fingertips on the table, resting his weight on the raised palms. “Overmeyer!”
“Aw, hell, Olds,” Overmeyer said. “Haskell’s called our bluff. He’s already got the town behind him. We’ll get out railroad and they’ll keep their land and we will all profit from it. I vote yes.”
Langston raised his cane and shook it at the ceiling as if he were summoning an army of guardian angels to rein their wrath upon Cal. “He nearly got my grandson killed! If he hadn’t formed that posse and chased Jacob up onto Copper Peak he wouldn’t be dying over at Pigg’s office.”
Aggie spoke up. “Your grandson shot two men. Killed one. All because he was cheating. He should hang.”
“No one saw him cheat!” Langston slammed the silver ball on the table again. He started to speak but all that came out was a gasp. The air hitched in his throat and Langston’s head tipped back. His eyes rolled up into his head. Langston fell forward. His cane dropped from his limp fingers and hit the floor. It rolled across the marble and struck an upright bookshelf.
Flath raised Langston from the table. He listened for his breath, checked for his pulse. “Someone get Doc Pigg,” he said.
“It’ll be Doc Lowell,” Cal said. He pulled on his hat. “Doc Pigg and his wife are busy taking off the rest of Jacob Langston’s leg.” A moan escaped from Langston.
“You can’t have Doc Lowell look at him,” Flath said.
“He have a squabble with everyone in this town?” Cal asked.
“You shouldn’t speak of what you don’t understand, Haskell,” Flath snapped. His eyes were angry, nar
row slits. He undid Langston’s tie and opened the man’s collar.
“Go out there and get his son,” Jonson said. His jittery hands could barely hold the glass he was pouring water into from a pitcher.
“David Langston run off after I knocked out the one he called Schmidt.”
Aggie St. Pierre laughed.“What are you laughing at, Aggie?” Flath asked. His voice was more of a hiss.
“I’m watching the walls of Jericho come a tumbling down,” she said. Aggie lifted her hands high above her head and yelled, “Hallelujah!”
*****
The sun was good and down as Cal sat with Overmeyer on the man’s front porch. Overmeyer drank a brandy while Cal nursed a scotch. The air had a bite to it as it came in off the lake. Blowing along with it was the music from the Three Trees.
“What made you vote yes, Mr. Overmeyer?” Cal asked.
“Your father saved my life in Manassas, son. I felt I owed it to him.”
“You mean Bull Run? That’s what my dad always called it.”
“I mean Manassas,” Overmeyer said. “But seeing as how your father’s blood runs blue and I wore the gray, and he did save my life, I’ll let it go this one time.”
“And what color does Langston’s blood run?”
Overmeyer chuckled. “I’ve given you an opportunity, Cal. I hope you take advantage of it.”
Cal nodded and knocked back the rest of his scotch. He stood and stepped down from the porch. The lure of the music tugged mightily at him.
“Where you headed, son?” Overmeyer asked.
“You were speaking of opportunities, mayor. Think there’s another one knocking on my door.” Cal touched the brim of his hat and headed off into town. Behind him he heard the jovial chuckling of Bertram Overmeyer.
*****
There weren’t that many people out on the streets but those that were stopped Cal and shook his hand. They welcomed him to their city. He stood for a few moments with each, shared some of the same story he had just told to the person before them. And while he didn’t mind shaking hands and talking with the people he was charged with protecting, he was hoping it wouldn’t keep him from running into Miss Jenny.
