by Chuck Buda
“James.” Sarah pushed through the crowd and grabbed her son. She held his face in her hands. Her teary eyes searched his face, checking every inch for injuries. She squeezed him to her bosom and then backed away enough to look at his bandaged arm and bloody shirt. She looked him over and then pulled him tight again. Carson was still wrapped around James’ waist so he got crushed in between James and his mother. None of them minding the intrusion of each other.
Sheriff Danvers wiggled through and clapped James on his good shoulder. He asked James for details and James only responded that it was done. The sheriff nodded, accepting the brevity of the answer for the moment. The crowd closed in and patted James on his burning back. Nobody realized he was wounded there since Soaring Eagle had wrapped his torso with bandages. The crowd cheered and some men threw their hats in the air. A sense of relief and justice rippled through the mob and eventually folks wandered back to their daily chores and work.
James was glad to be home.
James unpacked his horse and then worked on George’s. Carson followed closely behind as James carried supplies from the saddle to the porch boards. Several times he got so close that James bumped Carson’s face with his rump when he backed up. James used to find it mildly annoying but loved the extra attention now. He would never take his life for granted again.
Sarah sat on the porch, witnessing the loving relationship admiringly. James smiled at his mother and she returned it, tears still filling her crystal blue eyes. James noticed for the first time just how beautiful his mother was. A few strands of her black hair fell loose from the hair clasp and swept across her face in the breeze. How could such a beautiful woman have to live such a life? He felt her start to question his staring so he busied himself with removing the rest of the supplies.
“My mom sent me a letter, you know.” Carson squinted up at James. James stopped in his tracks and looked at Carson. He then looked at his mother who smiled slightly at him.
“Oh yeah? And what did she say?”
“She said that she is doing good taking care of her relative and that she can’t wait to camed home to me.”
“Come. Come home to you. That’s great.” James glanced at his mother whose smile widened at his response and playing along.
“And she said I can live with you and your mom until she gets back. So that makes us real brothers now.” Carson acted all proud of himself for working his way into James’ family officially.
James squatted down to eye level with Carson. He rested the saddle bag on the ground and placed his hands on Carson’s shoulders. “You were always my brother, Carson. And you always will be.” Carson hugged James, this time squeezing his neck so hard he thought his eyes would pop out of their sockets. Sarah giggled when she saw James’ face wince. James pried Carson off his neck.
“Why don’t you help me get this stuff upstairs. Then I’m going to take a bath and get cleaned up. And then you can come with me to visit George.”
“I don’t wanna visit George. He doesn’t like me.” Carson wrinkled his nose and folded his arms over his chest.
“George likes you, Carson. He’s just funny about hiding his feelings. You know, when we went away, he told me how much he likes you and how he wished that you would hug him sometimes.” Sarah gasped knowing full well that George would not like any human contact, especially from a child.
“Really?”
“Really. As a matter of fact, he said he was jealous that you always followed me around so closely. He wished that you would follow him around sometimes when he is in the saloon.” James winked at Carson and ruffled his hair again.
Carson seemed pleased with the notion of gaining another friend. He only had James since he was born. His excitement of having two guys to look up to shined through his pores. The boy started to dance awkwardly, arms and legs flailing. Sarah laughed hard and tried to cover her mouth with her hand. James laughed too and stomped a foot and clapped his hands to a beat which could never synchronize with the helter skelter dance moves. James smiled at his mother.
He wanted to make things different now. He wanted to stand up and take responsibility for his mother and his little friend. No longer would he just sweep up the floors and wipe down the tables. He would get a real job for real money so that the three of them could buy a place and settle down. A place they could call their home with a garden and some animals and a fence to map out their land. They would be able to eat meals together as a family instead of shoving food down, hidden in the shadows of the back of the saloon. It was time to start a new life. James was a man now. And he intended to live like one.
Chapter 50
It was a little after noon but James wanted breakfast. He craved eggs and bacon which he hadn’t had in what felt like forever. Filler had the food cooked up and served “this one time on account of him being a hero and all.” James took it.
He had bathed in the cool soapy water. It felt like heaven to get all the caked-on blood and dirt off his body. The soap stung his injuries though, and he found himself wincing and sucking air past his teeth each time it hurt. Carson sat on the other side of the door to keep anyone from barging in to interrupt James’ bath. He knew the real reason Carson sat against the door was to ensure that his best friend couldn’t leave town again without him.
James scarfed down the scrambled eggs and bacon without really chewing. The flavors were incredible compared to the earthy tastes of Soaring Eagle’s cooking. Carson sat with his head in his hands watching each mouthful go in. Sarah sat across from the boys and watched too. James thought to himself that both of them struggled taking their eyes off him now. It was as if they wanted to make sure he stayed within sight. Or maybe they wanted to make sure James didn’t collect anymore bumps and bruises.
He swallowed the last mouthful and then burped. His mother grimaced. Carson laughed. James knew Carson loved all things pertaining to gas. It didn’t matter which end it came from. James excused himself and then sat back in his chair. His stomach was full. He felt clean. And he was glad to be home.
“Feel better, honey?”
“Yes. Thanks, Mom.” James got serious and then leaned over the table. “I want to take care of you. And Carson.”
“You do, James.”
“No, I mean really take care of you both.” He looked around to make sure Filler and anybody else who might be in the saloon were outside of earshot. “I want to get a job and make money so you don’t have to work here anymore. I want to get a place of our own where we can sleep and eat and raise livestock and grow crops. Not like this life here.”
Sarah was taken aback by the concept. Her blue eyes searched the table to find the right words. “I don’t know, James. That is an awful lot of work and requires a lot of money. We just can’t afford to do that right now. I’m sorry.”
“We can’t do it now because I don’t make anything cleaning Filler’s place. But if I got a real job, then I could make some money and we could find a place and then get away from all this.”
Sarah smiled at her son. “We can work on it. But it will take some time.”
James sighed and folded his hands. He looked at Carson who wasn’t really following along. James began to speak but paused when Filler burst in from the back of the bar. He came in and slammed down a large crate of whiskey bottles. Feeling the eyes on him, he looked at the table. “What?”
“Nothing, Mr. Filler.”
“Nothing, Mr. Filler.” Filler parroted back James’ response with a sarcastic tone. His pinched nose and beady eyes came together as he returned to the back room. James smiled to himself that it was indeed good to be back home, even with cranky Filler.
“I want to have a better life. We should have our own home. And enjoy ourselves as a family. Not live upstairs in a brothel. Three people in a little room. Eating on the porch like dogs.” James couldn’t mask his frustration. “I want to be like normal folks.”
Sarah listened to her son. She could see he was serious. “You have changed, James.
It’s like you’re all grown up now.” Sarah’s words didn’t match the sound of doubt in voice. Her eyes reddened and welled up again.
“Aw, Mom. I’ve always been grown up. Nobody could see it because I was always hidden in the back.”
Sarah nodded in agreement. James saw that his mother was warming to the idea of him being a man and taking responsibility for their family. “Okay. We’ll do it. We have to start to save though. It won’t happen right away. But if we work hard and save our money, we can do it.”
James bounded out of his chair and circled the table to hug his mother. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll make it work. You’ll see.” He held her tight. Carson, not wanting to be left out, joined in the hug. Group hugs were becoming commonplace between the three of them.
“I’m gonna get a job too. I wanna take care of this family and buyed a house.” Sarah and James laughed at how cute Carson was.
“Buy a house, Carson. And when we get a house there will be lots of work for you to do.”
“Really? Oh boy.”
James smiled. “Yeah, like cleaning the poop in the horse stables and wiping down the poop in the chicken coop and shoveling the poop in the pigpen.” Carson’s face wrinkled when he thought about all that poop.
“Maybe I will just help you do your work instead.” He tilted his head to the side, using it to plead his case.
Sarah and James laughed out loud. Carson didn’t get it but he started laughing too and then went back to dancing his awkward moves. They watched him circle the table in a happy dance. Filler burst out of the back room again. His face screwed up the second he saw the family carrying on at the table. He slammed another crate of booze down on the bar.
“Hey. I ain’t paying ya to whoop it up and have a good time, ya know.” His anger coming through loud and clear.
“No, you don’t pay us at all. Do you?” James sassed Filler back. The man wrung his beard and then put his hands on his hips in frustration. The family saw his reaction and the three of them burst into laughter. Filler stomped his feet and cursed obscenities not known to regular mankind. But that didn’t stop Sarah, James and Carson from laughing. In fact, Sarah and James jumped out of their seats and joined Carson in the dance around the table.
Chapter 51
The evening sky had a purplish hue. James sat on the back porch with Carson. They had finished their dinner and now Carson was shuffling the deck of cards. He had talked about playing the whole time they ate. James enjoyed the excitement that poured through Carson’s words as he rambled on about how he had nobody to play with over the last few days. But he had practiced his shuffling skills and now he could do it much faster.
James tuned Carson out as he reflected on his life. Since he could remember, he had dreamed about growing up to follow in his father’s legendary footsteps. Moving from town to town. Tangling with drunks and cheats. Chasing off cattle rustlers. Gunfights in the street. In his eyes, life could only be lived on a grand scale as a hero. As the center of attention.
His thoughts were different now. Life was more about living each moment because you never knew when a curse would take everything away from you. It was being with the people you loved and cared for, because they could die tomorrow and you would no longer see their face or hear their voice. Life was a responsibility to yourself and your family. Making sure that people were loved and fed and protected. Not hanging around looking for something to do to pass the time until the next meal. Not dreaming about someday which may or may not ever arrive.
James glanced at Carson who was oblivious, shuffling and re-shuffling the deck of cards while talking a mile a minute. Life was work. It wasn’t meant to be easy. Everyone had their cross to bear. Carson fought every day to be considered normal, one of the townspeople, a member of the family. His life was hard. Always made fun of or ignored. James’ mother toiled with dirty men every night to feed her son. She had to work hard to maintain her appearance so that she was desirable enough to earn customers who then disrespected her. And the townspeople didn’t really respect her either. Girls like her were referred to as whores and sluts in hushed conversations or the pews of the church.
Even men like Sheriff Danvers and Wilson and George had their crosses. Working hard to instill the law in a land full of wild people. Struggling with being a drunk and not being able to hold a job or function like a regular person. Living to fight with your bare hands day in and day out. The physical abuse of a fighting lifestyle, breaking down joints and bones over time.
James thought about Crouching Bear, his lost friend. He bore the cross of his tribe’s warring ways. He was cast out because of a mistake made in the fever of battle which should never have happened if his elders did the right thing by their tribe, and lived peacefully to protect their own. Instead, he was cursed and forced to live a solitary existence, running from the next battle, only to end up dead by his friend’s hand.
He turned his thoughts to his own life. Growing up without a father. With a whore for a mother. Living like an unwanted pet in the back of a saloon. Never being taken seriously because he was an illegitimate son of a whore. Owning the responsibility of getting his friend’s mother killed, of killing another one of his friends, and taking care of a slow boy.
Life was work. It was difficult. But it was still worth living. It wasn’t the larger moments, the years of living here or working there. Life was about the small moments. Tunneling out a hiding spot with someone special. Giving your mother a flower on her birthday. Helping an outcast find comfort when they have nowhere else to turn. These were the moments that made life real.
James pondered the idea of no longer wanting big adventures. The notion of living quietly on the outskirts of town. Watching his mother plant seeds. Seeing Carson run wild in the fields. That would be enough.
As soon as he imagined this peaceful life, something stirred in his gut. He sat up straight. Deep inside, a struggle took place. A strong calling that would not sit idle. He felt the temptation of adventure rumbling in his belly. A restlessness that could not be satisfied with a quiet town life. James squirmed and tried to push the feeling away. But it would not be cast aside.
Carson tapped his shoulder and asked him if he was ready to play cards now. James smiled down at Carson and nodded. His mind still far away, fighting evil. There were evil beings harming others. Everywhere. He knew it was the truth but he questioned what it had to do with him. He wasn’t a hero. He wasn’t a mythic character put on earth to battle the forces of evil. He was just a man. A man who wanted to be with his family.
But he knew the real truth. James couldn’t accept this life. He couldn’t sit still knowing that people needed help. James saw the faces of people crying in sorrow, screaming in horror and hiding in fear. He knew those faces even if he didn’t know the actual people they belonged to.
His life had changed. In growing up, he not only became a man. He also became a spirit of something bigger. A warrior like his lost friend. He smiled when he thought of Crouching Bear with him and Carson at their hiding spot.
James looked at the hand of cards he was dealt. He had a four of clubs, a seven of hearts, an ace of spades, and a pair of fives. The lousy hand made him chuckle to himself. He watched Carson fan out his cards, his eyes darting back and forth as he organized the hand. James put his cards down, faces up. He looked at Carson who was perplexed with James’ early folding. Then he spoke in a serious tone but with a grin on his face.
“What do you think about going on an adventure with me?”
Director’s Cut
This story was a ton of fun to write.
Like many young boys, I grew up desperate for my father’s approval. Forty-odd years later, nothing has changed. I still desperately seek his approval on just about everything. So one day, I casually mentioned that I wanted to be a horror writer. The reception was pretty much what I would have expected. He gave me a look like he had just bitten into a rotten tomato.
My father has always been a voracious reader, easily dev
ouring a book a week since I can first remember. But horror is not on ANY of his reading lists. A child of the 50’s, my father was (and still is) a huge fan of westerns and country music. My father worshiped John Wayne and Louis L’Amour. Somewhere in his mind, he’s probably the man who shot Liberty Valance.
So what better way to earn my father’s praise than to write a western novel? I know. Writing a western horror novel. Two birds, one stone. Once I decided to embark on this journey, the character of James Johnson (nee Earp) formed immediately. Everyone loves the legendary men of the old west. But what about the people that might have been left behind?
It made sense to me that a man like Wyatt Earp could have fathered a child out of wedlock with a prostitute. Who hasn’t? Ahem. I mean, it could have happened to anyone. But who would care if it happened to some random cowpoke?
Like many good westerns, the hero usually has a sidekick. These sidekicks provide comic relief or further support the hero’s journey. I wanted to use the sidekick to accomplish similar goals but through the optics of a new twist. My original concept was for a female sidekick but I was afraid that somewhere down the line, the story would call for the relationship to take on a more romantic tone. I am not opposed to a formidable male/female duo but it didn’t strike me as original enough. That’s where Carson came in.
Several members of my family were involved in special education careers. For years, I heard stories about children who struggled with basic functions, things we take for granted. I also know families with autistic children. Carson is somewhere in between, but completely different. He holds an intelligence level that can be remarkable. Yet, he struggles as a functioning member of society. It is natural to feel sorry for him and root for him like crazy.
