by Chuck Buda
Crouching Bear found his garments wadded up beneath the sheets on the bed. Luckily, the blood which covered most of the mattress was concentrated toward the head of the bed. His clothes were stuffed at the foot.
As he rushed to get his clothing on, he worried about his plan to escape. The building was full of people and someone had to know that he was in here with Minnie. So even if he was lucky enough to escape, he knew that he would have another hunting party on his hands. He cursed the spirits for frowning upon him. Crouching Bear picked up a yellow dress that was draped over a chair in the corner. He wiped the sticky blood from his hands and face on the dress and then tossed it under the bed.
He approached the door and gently placed his head against it, listening for activity on the other side. The noise was loud in the hallway. Crouching Bear remembered that the hallway led to the waiting lounge where, at this hour, there would be several men and women passing the time until rooms became available. He would have to get past those people and then go down the long staircase to the saloon below which would be filled with white men and guns. His route was filled with danger at every step.
Crouching Bear took a step back and paused to figure out how to get away. He tapped his hidden knife, sheathed inside his pant leg. It was a big knife and he kept it very sharp but he would have to fight through twenty or thirty people at a minimum to get out. And that’s if nobody was quick enough to draw a pistol on him, which he was positive somebody would be.
Perplexed, his eyes roamed the room for other weapons when he realized there was a window on the far side of the bed. Excited, Crouching Bear crawled over Minnie’s remains and peered out the glass. The window overlooked the front corner of the building. A short portion of roof tile sat below the window which hung over the front sidewalk.
Crouching Bear decided it was his best option. He raised the window and stuck his head out, sensing the cool, fresh night air. There were people walking in front of the building along the street. However, the side street between the saloon and the next building was dark and empty. He stretched his upper body through the window and swung his leg around. Tapping his foot quietly, he felt for the roof tile below to secure his footing. Once he was satisfied, he swung his other leg over the sill and tapped for tile again. As he did so, he looked at the bed under the window. A mosaic of blood splatter covered the bedding and the walls around it. The guilt of his actions settled in his gut and he felt remorseful for what he had done. Before the curse, his anger never would have caused him to harm a woman like that unless he was warring and part of the warrior soul.
He rested his forehead on the window sill as he remembered his new friends. Crouching Bear worried that his killing would hurt the little boy and that the town might turn against the boys for taking him in and standing up for him. He was an animal, just like they accused in the streets.
Crouching Bear shimmied around the corner on the roof tiles, with one hand grasping the window frame. His other hand searched for anything to support his balance as he worked his way around the side of the edifice.
Chapter 12
Candy looked around apprehensively. She hoped Minnie would re-emerge soon. Candy liked Mr. Stapleton but she was running out of things to talk about. She felt confident she could entertain waiting guests while the girls cleaned themselves up. But that was usually for a few minutes. Minnie was pushing the limits as it had already been closer to ten minutes. Candy was grateful that Mr. Stapleton seemed to be enjoying himself in the lounge, but she feared the moment he lost interest. He might carry on and get Filler involved. Then all the girls would be getting a lecture in the morning and their pay would most likely be docked a nickel.
Mr. Stapleton kept rambling about his travels from the east coast. He paused periodically to sip his brandy and wet his whistle. Apparently he was oblivious to Candy’s apprehension. He guffawed at something that he said but Candy had not really been listening. She smiled and chuckled as he patted her knee. Candy tried to maintain eye contact and re-engage herself in the conversation. But it was burdensome.
“If you’ll excuse me a moment, Mr. Stapleton.” She interrupted his most recent tale about a train ride through the Appalachians. “I’m going to see if Minnie is ready to receive you now.” As she stood, Mr. Stapleton smacked her backside and made a lewd comment about what else a woman would be “receiving” tonight. Candy thought to herself that men were only “gentlemen” for a period before the beast showed itself. Mr. Stapleton was dressed in refined attire and spoke eloquently, but he was still just a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Like all the rest, she noted.
Candy bustled through the small crowd in the lounge. She had gotten extremely frustrated with Minnie. Her job was to keep things moving in the brothel and to run interference on some matters, but Minnie had taken full advantage and she was not pleased. After all, the girls were paid much better for their services than she was for her job. Even though she preferred to keep her dignity and her clothes on, she still believed her function was on par with the working girls.
Candy rapped her knuckles on the door with more force this time. “Minnie, time is up and you must dismiss the caller immediately. Mr. Stapleton has been more than patient with you.” She waited for a response but none was forthcoming. She knocked harder this time and glanced awkwardly up the hallway to the lounge. Luckily, nobody had bothered to look in her direction or pay any attention.
Reaching her breaking point, Candy turned the knob and opened the door. What waited for her on the other side was unfathomable. She absorbed the horrific scene with wide eyes. Candy screamed as loud as she could, dropping to her knees.
The people in the lounge began to funnel down the hall to Candy’s aid. Nobody knew what the screams were about until they reached the screaming woman and witnessed the blood-soaked interior of the bedroom. Word quickly spread up the hallway. As more people from the saloon reached the lounge in response to the screams, the story had already spread. Everyone in the building knew that the Indian had killed Minnie.
James had returned to the saloon to fetch some water. Carson had fallen asleep minutes after they settled in the hiding spot. Carson’s deep, rhythmic breathing let James know that he had plenty of time to return to town for water and to retrieve Crouching Bear before George found out the truth. James fought the restlessness as best he could but his nervous energy wouldn’t allow him to relax.
When he climbed the porch to the back door of the bar, James noticed an eerie quietness emanating from inside. The usual din was subdued and the noise resembled a droning rather than an uproarious party. He paused before opening the door, leaning against the wood to listen closer. James heard what sounded like a serious conversation, marked with periodic cries. Sad cries. Women crying.
He opened the door and the saloon was only half full. Several patrons consoled a few ladies who were crying into their lace handkerchiefs. The staircase to the brothel was full of people standing about, nodding their heads and talking. James sensed that something was wrong and he began to approach the stairs. He worried about his mother and he wanted to make sure she was safe.
Filler was squeezing down the stairs between the stacks of folks who lingered. He reached the bottom step at the same time that James was about to climb up. Filler put his hands on James’ shoulders, holding him in place. “Ya don’t wanna go up there, boy. It’s no place for a runt.” His words were harsh but his tone signaled a warning, laced with sadness.
James immediately imagined that Filler meant his mother was harmed so he shucked off the man’s hands and pushed his way up. Filler’s voice followed him, getting louder and more urgent as he made his way. James tuned it out. He never made eye contact with the people he passed on the stairs. Wiggling through arms and coattails, James made his way across the lounge and down the overcrowded hall. As he reached the open door at the end of the hallway, Mr. Stapleton grabbed his elbow to anchor him before he saw the horrors inside. But James wouldn’t be stopped. He shoved Mr. Stapleton and stood in
the doorway to Minnie’s room.
He was frozen, awestruck by the mosaic of blood splatter and the disarray of the bedding. His mother was on her knees, crying, and trying to collect bloody shreds of clothing on the floor. She saw James out of the corner of her eyes and she stopped what she was doing to rush to his side. Sarah grasped James’ head and crushed it to her bosom, trying to block out the images from her boy’s sight. It was too late.
James was in shock but managed to ask his mother what had happened. She caressed his hair and whispered in his ear. “It was the Indian. He killed Minnie.” James couldn’t believe what she was saying. Crouching Bear was not a killer. He was quiet and intense but he would never hurt James or Carson, or their mothers. His mind fumbled to figure out how this could have happened. He realized that Crouching Bear wasn’t in the room.
“Where is he? Where did he go?”
Sarah looked into James’ eyes. “Nobody knows. He must have gone out the window because it was open and no one saw him exit the room through the door.” She searched his eyes. “Where is Carson?”
James’ heart sank. He realized that Carson would be devastated by the news. But he was grateful that Carson was sleeping in the hiding spot and completely unaware of what had taken place tonight. “I know where he is.” He took his mother’s hands from his face. “I’ll keep him away for awhile. And I won’t tell him the news...just yet.”
Sarah nodded to him as tears flowed down her cheeks. James turned and began to work his way back through the crowd. He needed to make sure Carson stayed away from town for now. He also needed to find Crouching Bear. James had to know the truth. And he wanted to get to the man before any posse was formed.
Chapter 13
The saloon was packed to capacity. The room was so full that some people were seated on the stairs to the brothel. A cacophony of anger encircled the townsfolk as everyone fought to have their opinion heard.
Sheriff Cody Danvers scratched his dark beard as he surveyed the room. His beady eyes covered the faces in the back of the saloon and then rose up the stairs, taking personal inventory of all the attendees.
“Quiet! Quiet! Settle down, now!” Mayor Vance Cosby raised his voice to command attention. His pot belly drooped over his thick brown belt, straining to keep everything together. The mayor removed his round-rimmed glasses and fogged the lenses with his breath. Using his handkerchief, he cleaned the glasses and returned them to his round face. “I said quiet now!”
The sheriff placed his fingers inside his wrinkled cheeks and blew a piercing whistle. The crowd immediately quieted. Some voices rose again as the folks figured their opinion would now be heard but they were quickly dampened by the sheriff’s menacing glare.
“Listen up. Everyone knows that we are gathered here to deliberate what needs to be done.” Sheriff Danvers paused to make eye contact with the people in the room. “It is important that we all remain calm and that nobody goes off half-cocked.”
The crowd began to stir again with various shouts rising from the back of the room. Mayor Cosby was not one to be overshadowed and he stepped up to the center of the floor. “We all know that that Injun came into this town and killed poor Minnie. This Injun must account for his actions.” Another round of shouting rippled through the crowd.
“Hold on, people. Let’s remember what our good Lord has taught us about turning the other cheek. We must not give in to the temptation of doing the devil’s work.” Reverend Larson stood off to the left with his Bible clutched firmly in hand. A bead of sweat glistened upon his furry brow. His collar constricted his chubby neck, turning his face red against his slicked back blond hair.
“How about an eye for an eye, Padre?” George threw his two sense in as he leaned against the end of the bar. He continued to chew his tobacco as he examined his dirty fingernails. Another roar of agreement from the angry townspeople.
The sheriff stepped forward to reclaim control of the room. “I think we all agree that the Indian must be captured to stand trial for this crime. But, it will be done with an organized posse and under my command. Anyone failing to abide by my orders will be jailed for breaking the law.”
“And what law is that, Sheriff?” Mayor Cosby’s bushy gray mustache twitched as he tried to override the sheriff.
Sheriff Danvers squared himself to the mayor. “My law.” He held his gaze upon the mayor who fidgeted before looking to the crowd which had gone silent. Sheriff Danvers was not a big man. In fact, he was slight by most standards but what he lacked in size he made up for with gun skills and aggression. The town had witnessed his “law” in action enough times to know that he was not one to be tangled with.
“What about Carson?” James filled the silence with his question. The people looked from side to side to find out where the question had come from. James pushed his way through the crowd to the front of the saloon.
“What about him?” Mayor Cosby eyed James as if he were an annoyance.
“I think Carson will die if he finds out that his mother has been killed.”
“Probably the most humane thing that could happen to him.” The mayor mumbled under his breath.
“I don’t want Carson to find out what happened to his mother. He won’t be able to handle it.”
The sheriff responded to James. “Where is Carson, son?”
“I got him hidden away before the news about his mother spread. He has no idea what has happened.”
Reverend Larson stepped up. “What do you suggest we do, James?”
James looked down at his boots before responding. “I think we should all pretend that his mom went away for a while.”
“And how do we do that, young man?” Mayor Cosby furrowed his gray brows.
“I don’t know. Um, we could say that she left town to visit a sick relative. To, uh, take care of them and that she won’t be back until they are better.”
“And what happens to the boy in the meantime?”
James looked the mayor in the eyes with seriousness. “I will tend to Carson like family. I mean, he practically is my little brother. And I will watch over him every day.” James glanced at his mother whose eyes were full of tears. She smiled at James with pride.
Reverend Larson placed his hand on James’ shoulder. “I think the dear Lord would overlook a lie such as this. One that is filled with love and devotion. God bless you, Master James.”
The crowd mumbled in agreement that everyone would protect little Carson from the truth about his mother’s death. James nodded to the folks in the room his appreciation. He knew the news would devastate Carson and he was willing to do whatever it took to keep Carson from harm’s way.
Sheriff Danvers removed his hat and ran his fingers through the curly dark hair. He nodded his head to indicate that the mayor and the pastor should fall back in with the crowd. “I will select a posse of men fit to travel with me. The deputy will be in charge of the town until I return. Anybody who opposes the deputy in my absence will answer to me personally. Understood?” The crowd nervously shuffled their feet and nobody made a sound.
“Good. Murphy, Hannigan, Jepson, Thomas. Prepare to saddle up at noon. We’ll meet at the jail. Everyone else, go about your business as you would any other day. Justice will be served. You have my word on it.”
Sheriff Danvers placed his hat back on his head and stepped aside as the townspeople left the saloon. The chatter was minimal as they knew the sheriff was more than capable of backing up his words.
James remained in place as the people brushed past him. He wanted to be part of the posse too. He waited for the crowd to disperse before approaching the sheriff. As the pastor and the mayor both waddled out of the saloon, James took his chance.
“Sheriff Danvers, I want to be part of the posse.”
The sheriff was the same height as James, yet the strength in his eyes made him appear much taller to James. “Ordinarily, I would box your ears and toss you out on the street. But because you graciously offered to look out for the boy I will
pretend you never said anything to me.” He tipped the brim of his hat and turned to leave the saloon. James grabbed the sheriff’s elbow, making the man turn in anger at the transgression.
“Sheriff, I need to find Crouching Bear. I have to know what happened and why he would do such a thing to Carson’s mother. I have to do it for Carson.”
The sheriff yanked his elbow out of James’ grasp. “Don’t ever lay hands upon me again, boy. Now you go get that boy and you look after him like you said you would. I already chose the men that will assist me in bringing the Indian to justice. Real men. There ain’t no room for a boy on a job like this.”
James’ eyes filled with tears of frustration. He knew he was man enough to handle this, even if everyone only saw him as a boy. He was determined to go, one way or the other. As Sheriff Danvers stomped out of the saloon, James wiped his eyes. He had to come up with his own plan fast.
Chapter 14
James laid out his belongings on the bed. He didn’t own much, but life in a small town didn’t require much. Besides the clothes on his back, he had a pair of dungarees, a button-down brown cotton shirt, two pairs of underwear and two pairs of wool socks. A cowhide jacket hung off the bed post. As he took inventory of his few belongings, he began to stuff his travel sack.
Several minutes before he gathered his things, his mother had fought him on his plan. She argued that going after Crouching Bear alone was foolish. She said he was too young and not skilled enough to protect himself against the dangers of the wild frontier. Sarah adamantly opposed his plan. James told his mother that he would sneak out without her knowing if she didn’t allow him to go. He told her, one way or the other, he was going. Sarah pleaded with him to stay and take care of Carson like he promised the town that he would.
