by Chuck Buda
Sarah sucked in some air when she heard this. “I don’t like where this is headed at all.”
“Aw, Mom, I’ll make sure I’m careful.”
Carson parroted, “Aw, Mom.”
James smiled at Carson. “I’ll be fine. I’ll even have the pastor bless me against evil. I swear it.” He held up a hand to complete the promise.
“No, I swear. I swear that if anything happens to my baby, then a ghostly gunman is the least of this town’s worries.” The comment was directed at Sheriff Axl Morgan who pursed his lips in understanding.
“Let’s get a move-on. We have a lot of work to do so we best see the Pastor and get started with preparations. A year can go by pretty quickly.” Sheriff Morgan headed for the doors.
“A year? I’m not waiting a whole year for this fight.” James grabbed the Sheriff’s elbow. Sheriff Morgan looked down at James’ grip and quickly removed his hand.
“Don’t ever touch me like that, James. I don’t like to be handled like a heifer at auction.”
“Sorry, Sheriff.”
“Now how do you suppose you’re going to meet up with the gunslinger when he only shows himself once a year?”
“I’ll lure him back.”
“And how are you fixin’ to do that?”
James looked around the saloon and then whispered to the Sheriff and his mother. “I don’t know yet.”
Sheriff Morgan sagged at James’ response. Sarah slapped James on his backside. Then she pinched his ear and dragged him behind the Sheriff through the saloon doors. Carson giggled into his hand and followed along.
Chapter 15
“Over my dead body.” Sarah shouted at James.
Carson’s eyes watered. Sarah watched Carson shrink under the table. He disliked arguments between Sarah and James. But none of them had ever gotten this loud before. She made a note to console Carson later.
“Jeez, Mom. You’re treating me like a child. But I’m a man now.”
“Who said you’re a man? Did someone tell you that you were a man?”
James rolled his eyes. “I’m going to fight this thing and you can’t stop me.”
“If you walk out that door, then you are not welcome back here. Do you understand me?” She regretted the words as soon as they flew from her lips.
James continued to sharpen his knife. He pretended to ignore his mother but Sarah knew full well that he was either biting his tongue or figuring out new ways to make his case. Sarah tried a softer approach. She sat next to James and brushed a hand over his hair.
“James, I can’t lose you. You’re all I have in this world.” Again, she bit her lip as she noticed Carson lower his head. She knew he took that comment the wrong way. She loved him as if she gave birth to him. Sarah made another mental note for the follow-up consolation of Carson.
“How are you going to lose me? I beat Crouching Bear. And I’ll beat the gunslinger.” James’ voice revealed that he wasn’t feeling as confident as the words he used.
“One doesn’t equal the other. Crouching Bear was a real being. This…this ghost is not. It doesn’t really exist…really.” Sarah thought about that statement and then brushed it aside. “What happens if it doesn’t go the way you want? Then what? What am I supposed to do? And who will be here for Carson?”
Carson quickly crawled out from under the table. He rushed over to them and pointed in James’ face.
“You want to leave me?”
“I don’t want to leave you, buddy.”
“You leaved me for Crouching Bear. And now you leaved me for ghosts.” Carson poked his finger in James’ chest as he hammered home his accusation.
“Carson, I told you before. I didn’t want you to get hurt by Crouching Bear. And this time, I’m not going anywhere. I’m gonna be right here in town.”
Carson kicked James in the shin and ran back to the underside of the table. He buried his head in his arms and cried gently to himself. James shrugged at Carson’s tears while he massaged his aching shin.
Sarah tried not to laugh. She thought Carson was so cute. He loved James and worshiped him. Sarah knew that they would both do anything for each other. And she sympathized with Carson’s fear and hurt feelings. She also knew James did things to protect Carson, even if Carson was too feeble to understand it.
“You see? Carson doesn’t want you to do this either. Can’t you reconsider it for him? For us?”
“That’s low, Mom. How can you make me feel guilty about trying to help people?”
“Guilt is a mother’s only weapon, sometimes.”
“Well, too bad you can’t guilt the gunslinger into going away.”
“Watch your mouth, James. I’m still your mother.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Sarah stood up and went to the iron stove. She set a kettle of water upon it to make tea. She searched her heart for anything that could help sway her one way or the other. She was so torn between protecting her son and letting him spread his wings. James had grown up a lot over the last year. In many respects, he had become a man. But he was still too innocent for his own good. And he was always her little boy. Always would be.
“Look, this isn’t easy for me either. What would you do if your child came to you and said they were going to go fight monsters and evil? Would you pat them on the back and send them on their way? Or would you try to talk them out of it?”
James seemed to consider her argument. He stopped sharpening the blade and he looked up at her with a serious face. “I guess I would do the same thing.” He looked back down at the sharpening stone. “I would help him get ready and support him with all my heart.”
“You trickster!” Sarah threw a dish towel at James. It never made it to his chair. James grinned with mischief. Sarah smiled back at him.
“What can I do, Mom? Help me do the right thing.” James stood and approached Sarah. He held her hands in his. “I want to help people so bad. I want to be the hero. The one who saves the world from wrongdoing. But I’m scared too. And I’m not sure that I always make good decisions.” He lowered his head.
Sarah let go of James’ hands. She held his head. She felt the rough patches of whiskers on what used to be his baby-smooth face. “You do make some bad decisions. You get that from your father’s side.” James chuckled. “But it’s okay to be unsure. And to make mistakes. That’s what life is about. And growing up ain’t easy. If it were, there would be no need for spankings and punishments.”
James spun out of her grasp and went to the window. He stared through the glass in silence. Sarah followed him and rested her head on his shoulder. She realized that James was tall enough now that she could do that. A year ago, she would have had to lean down to his shoulder a bit. Where had all the time gone, she asked herself.
“You have to do what you think is best, James. Nobody can make that decision for you. Not anymore.” Sarah shed a tear as she relinquished herself to the inevitable. James was a man now. And no longer her own.
“Just keep in mind that if you do decide to go fight, I will disown you.”
“Me too! I’ll dizowned you.”
Sarah smiled at Carson. She made another mental note. This time to thank Carson for taking her side.
Chapter 16
James grabbed several boxes of bullets and tossed them into the crate. He slid the crate across the wood floor with his foot. As he reached toward the coils of rope, Mr. Miller wandered up to him.
“Are you fixing to hog-tie the gunslinger, son?”
James realized that Mr. Miller had a point. What good would a rope do against an apparition? “Yeah, I guess I should spend more time thinking about the supplies.”
Mr. Miller bent over and plucked the boxes of bullets from the crate. He began to replace them on the shelf. “Then you’ll probably want to re-think the need for bullets, too.”
James sighed. “This fight is turning out to be a bit more complicated than I originally thought.”
Mr. Miller folded his arms and
turned to lean against the shelf. He sized James up. “James, I know you think this is something you have to do. But it’s not. To hell with the people in town. You have to take care of yourself first.”
James rolled his eyes, unable to contain his frustration. “Did my mother put you up to this? You can save your breath. She already ripped me to shreds.”
Mr. Miller chuckled. “I haven’t spoken to your mother, James. It’s just common sense. Something we older folks have lots of. It usually grows in place of hair.” He tapped his bald head while James laughed.
“It’s not really about the people of town though. It’s about me?”
“How so?”
“Well, I believe I was born to become something big. A hero. And I just want my chance to prove it to the world, that I am the hero I was meant to be.”
“Prove it to the world? Or yourself?”
James sighed again. “Good question. I guess both.”
“James, life is hard. Men face challenges each direction they turn. You know, it wasn’t easy building this business. And it didn’t work well right away. It took some years for me to get the store to turn a profit enough to subsist on.”
“Really?”
“Sure, sure.” Mr. Miller stood up straight. “And I had to make many decisions along the way. Now my decisions weren’t as life and death as battling evil spirits. But in a way, these decisions were just as important to determining whether I lived or died. Of starvation. Or by the hands of my creditors.” He raised his eyebrows at James to complement his parable.
“So how did you get through it all?”
“I did what I thought was right, James. I could have turned a profit earlier if I had been more aggressive with sales. I could have made more money if I stocked only the items that sold most often. But I had a longer-term vision of what I wanted. I wanted a place where people can come find anything they might need. Anything, James. That took faith. Faith that people would see me for what I was.” He paused to see if James would say something. James just stared at him so he continued. “That I was here for the long term. To help the community build and grow. Not to fill my pockets and then leave town.”
“So what you’re telling me is I need to do the right thing? And have a vision of what I want?”
“Yes. What do you want, James?”
“I want to help people. Save them from evil.”
Mr. Miller chuckled. “Well, you certainly don’t choose small goals, do you?”
“I guess not, sir.”
“So what the hell are you doing working in my store?”
“I want to support my family and provide for them.”
“And that is doing the right thing.”
“Does this mean that fighting the haunted gunslinger is NOT the right thing?”
Mr. Miller rubbed his forehead. “I don’t think you’re getting my point. Look here, you have to follow your heart and your gut. As long as you do the right thing, then the good Lord will take care of the rest.”
“My heart tells me to rid this town of that ghost. But my gut tells me to take care of my family and forget about dangerous spirits.” James stared at his boots.
“That’s why life is hard, James.” Mr. Miller rested his hand on James’ shoulder.
“So what should I do?”
Miller laughed louder. “I can tell you what to do when you are stocking my shelves and sweeping my floors, James. But not out there.” He pointed out the window. “Out there, you’re on your own. A free man. Free to make good choices and bad. And free to live with the consequences of each decision.”
“Jeez, Mr. Miller. I’m more confused now than I was when I came in here.” James scratched his head.
“Good. Now get out of my store.”
“What?”
“You heard me, James. Get the hell out of my store.” Mr. Miller’s tone suggested he was serious.
“But why?”
“Because you are no longer my employee, James. You’re fired.”
James’ jaw dropped. His eyebrows shot up to the top of his face as he begged to understand what had just happened.
“But, sir. What did I do?”
“I don’t hire ghost hunters and vigilantes, James. It’s not good for business. And for me? It’s not the right thing to do.”
“I thought we were having a good chat, Mr. Miller. I’m sorry if I upset you.”
“I’m not upset, James. It’s just business. I have mine and you have yours. Now take your business elsewhere.” Mr. Miller pointed at the front door with finality.
“But…I…I…”
“You’re a man, James. Isn’t that what you said at the meeting?”
James nodded.
“Then act like one.”
James shuffled slowly down the aisle. He glanced at Mr. Miller who busied himself with a stack of papers at the counter, never once lifting his eyes to meets James.
James felt deflated. What just happened? How did everything turn upside down in such a short period of time? Yesterday he had a good-paying job. He was safe and happy in this nice little town. And now this. He was cast aside by the townspeople. Then his mother and Carson. And now Mr. Miller.
James had an urge to cry but the words kept repeating in his mind. Act like one. Act like one. Act like one.
He shut the door and stood on the front porch of the general store. The sun felt hot against his cheeks. James lowered the brim of his hat and walked away.
Chapter 17
James peeked in the window. It looked somewhat dark inside because the sunshine gleamed along the panes. Suddenly, a face appeared on the other side of the glass. James screamed in fright. Miss Lark smiled and waved him inside.
As James opened the school’s door, Miss Lark hurried around the classroom with a broom. “James. Come in.”
He shut the door behind him. He took several steps between some desks and realized it had been some time since he last set foot in a schoolhouse. The desks seemed much smaller than he had remembered them. He thought of sitting at one of the desks and then figured he wouldn’t fit now that he was grown up.
“What brings you here, James?” Miss Lark brushed a blond curl back behind her ear. The blue dress she wore was very form-fitting and James couldn’t help but admire her figure. She was fairly young, even though she was clearly older than James. Yet, she had a woman’s shape. And James liked it.
“Um…I guess I had nowhere else to go.”
Miss Lark stopped sweeping and shot James a sour look. “Well, don’t you know how to make a woman feel nice.”
James removed his hat and looked at his boots. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” He walked over to the long bench along the wall and sat down. James placed his hat on the bench and lowered his head into his hands.
Miss Lark rested the broom against her desk and approached James. She took a seat on the bench next to him. “Sounds like you aren’t too happy today. Did someone in jail call you a bad name?”
James laughed at her gentle ribbing. “No. I haven’t been in jail today. Yet.” He looked into her eyes. They were greenish with some light brown specks. James wondered how she could have such different eyes from everyone he had ever met before.
“Well that’s good. I wouldn’t want to have to fight your mother again.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. My Mom can be pretty protective of me. Us. Protective of us.” He quickly corrected his phrase before Miss Lark could question why he didn’t include Carson in her protective nature.
Miss Lark giggled and brushed her curl back again. “Mothers know best, I suppose. I guess I’ll learn that myself someday.” Her cheeks blushed as she made the comment. She bit her lower lip.
“Miss Lark…”
“Please. Call me Eleanor.” She rested her hand on James’ knee. He felt something stir in his pants suddenly. He tried to picture drowned puppies and now it was his turn to blush.
“Okay. Eleanor. I feel lost.”
“Maybe I can help find you
. Why don’t you pick up the broom and give me a hand while we chat.”
James reddened even more. He wasn’t sure he could stand up right now without embarrassing himself. He rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes tight. James pictured his mother yelling at him last night about fighting the gunslinger. Immediately, he was in good shape to stand up.
“This is going to sound strange. But…did you ever know deep inside that you were meant for something…and that you had to do it no matter what?”
“Sure. When I was a little girl, my mother read books to me every day. I loved the sound of the words and the paintings they created in my mind. I knew right away that I wanted to be a teacher.”
James stopped sweeping and leaned on the broom. “Sort of, I guess. Anyway, the part of me that knows I have to do what I have to do is battling the part of me that is afraid to do what I have to do.”
Eleanor stared at James as she tried to follow along.
“And then there’s the stuff that others want me to do or think I should do, which I do want to do, but on account of what I have to do and I know I have to do…”
“James. James. Please. I am getting a headache trying to comprehend all this. What are you saying?”
James huffed and leaned against her desk. He liked Miss Lark, Eleanor, but he didn’t want to tell her everything. He was afraid she would think he was weird. James whispered to himself that he was being silly. Did he really think a woman like Miss Lark would be interested in a boy like him?
“I want to fight the gunslinger. I have to do it. But nobody else wants me to.”
Eleanor nodded. “So watching the Mayor get shot right before you, and getting grazed by a bullet yourself wasn’t enough to scare you away?”
“Oddly, no.”
She came closer to James. He could smell her skin. It had a lavender scent. James’ head swirled as he tried to focus on his dilemma.
