Old Bones

"What's these, Ez?"

It's JD who asks, of course... kid can't keep his curiosity under wraps for more than a coupla minutes at the best of times, and now ain't anywhere near best. It's one of those damn days when I can't make up my mind whether Josiah's God or the Devil himself is playin' with us, like chess pieces or dice.

Like dice...

The boys - okay, Buck and JD mostly, and maybe Nate - have probably been wonderin' about them, wrapped up as they were in silk an' sewn inta that pretty red coat, since we knew our gambler was gonna make it... again. Our gambler's now wrapped up in as many blankets as Nate could get away with and sittin' out on the balcony watchin' the town. An' we're watchin' with him. Right now it's me, Vin, Nate and JD - Buck and Josiah'll be back by midday.

Ezra looks up, not much interested but willin', as he puts it, to be 'diverted'. And when he sees what JD's holding up, hell yeah, he's diverted...

"Mister Dunne, where did you..? Put them down, please, they happen to be rather fragile."

"Uh, okay." JD ain't the world's most observant kid, but he don't miss the alarm in Standish's eyes, and neither do I. Have ta admit, I'm curious too, just a little. "They ain't hurt, honest. We found 'em when we had to cut your jacket off."

I kinda hope none of 'em see me wince at that... nope, Vin might've, the other two were too busy cringing over the memory of why we had to cut his beloved red coat off, and Ezra is lookin' peevish because we had.

He shoulda died. Damn conman has the luck of the Devil, three times now he'd be gutshot if the bullet hadn't hit somethin' other than his slick hide first. Diamond... than damn money... and now them. Hell, can't say any of us know how a coupla dice stopped it, but can't say any of us are complainin' either.

"They didn't get blood on them." And I definitely hope none of 'em see me wince at that, as JD goes on. "Or even get broke much. They special or something, Ezra? They look pretty old..."

"They are indeed," and Ezra holds out a shaky but determined hand for them, "by the reckoning of my Great-Uncle Jonathon, not that he was blood-kin, you understand, an uncle by marriage on my dear mother's side. The dice were greatly aged when he had them as a boy, and he was in his nineties - and I a child - when we met."

"Nineties?" Nate gives a soft whistle, watching as JD drops the two small, dark, battered looking dice into the waiting hand. "That's a hell of a good age there, Ezra."

"A hell of one indeed, though the word 'good' hardly would apply to any of that side of the family."

"He give them to ya?"

One of Ezra's eyebrows shoots up, as if he's shocked by the idea. "My dear Mister Jackson, you have met my mother. Can you imagine anyone of her ilk giving something away? Her mother - a strange woman, even at that tender age she terrified me - she won them from him in a... friendly family game. I'd been asked to play, young as I was, by Great-Uncle Jonathon, but chose more childish pursuits for once. "

"Friendly?" Vin says softly, smirking in that way we all know that says more than a dozen words.

"No one was deceased by the end of the night, Vin... in any case, my mother inherited them, but one time when leaving Frisco rather precipitously," he pauses, and grins, a glint of gold tooth showing, "she left more behind than she intended."

There's a story there, I'd warrant.

"Most of which was unhappily lost. Mother believes these to be among the lost and I'd appreciate it, gentlemen, if she remained in that happy belief."

"You stole 'em from your ma?" JD blurts out, and Nate looks a fraction disapproving.

That eyebrow goes up again. "Not at all. I simply hold them, as it were, in trust for the family, what few of them are left. They are safer that way."

"You don't use 'em, but." Vin says quietly. "Seen your lucky -"

"- loaded -" Nate mumbles, and Ezra frowns at him but doesn't bother arguin'. Wise move, that.

"Dice," Vin goes on, "the ones you allus play with."

"As I said, these are fragile. The other dice you allude to, my playing dice, are ivory, and of the highest quality, I have worked with them for some years and know their..." he grins again, "shall we say, quirks. These," he holds them lightly between his fingers, "I haven't, and will nevah, play a game with. They are brittle and unpredictable, and as I once told Mister Larabee, I abhor gambling, and leave -"

"Nothin' to chance," I finish for him. "Hell, Ezra, mebbe we should have a game with 'em, be interestin' to see how it'd turn out with an honest -"

"Ah ah, Mister Larabee, did I say they were honest?"

That's right, he didn't... though what that means, I neither know nor much care.

"They worth much, then?" JD asks incredulously. "They just look like old bone."

"Son, they are old bone. Very, very... very old. I doubt even my mother could sell them for more than a few dollars, if that. But as for me, I simply.. hold them in trust, since I neither won nor was given them, it seems, as I said, best."

"What sorta bone?"

This, from Vin, is a fraction unexpected, at least by me, he ain't normally one to care about things like Ezra does, or to be curious like JD. But then, keepin' a sick Ezra 'diverted' is more than one man's job, even when that man's JD, so me and Vin sometimes have ta talk on stuff we don't care about.

We don't fool Ezra, but I reckon he 'preciates the effort. Right now, though, he's tirin', so Nate stands up and looks at the three of us to let it go; we can all see him thinkin', and so loudly even JD gets it, that we should go and keep an eye on the town for a while, let Ezra sleep. I'd rather keep an eye on him and the town from here, but Nate's thoughts tend to be hard to overrule, so I turn to follow JD as he pretty much bounces down the stairs, forgettin' the old dice in his relief that our gambler's gonna be okay. Nate for his part turns back into the clinic, probably looking for that devilish foul potion he's plannin' to pour down Ezra's throat.

I'd probably forget the things too, 'cept I hear Vin speak so softly that those thoughts of Nate pretty much drown the spoken words out. "You gonna let Josiah see 'em, Ez?"

"I think not, I doubt he'd be interested... and why are you, Mister Tanner?"

"Ya meet folks when ya spend a life on the move... folks a lot like your Great-Uncle, mebbe." I glance back, see the strange look on Ezra's face and the curve of Vin's smile, all you can see from under his hat. "Met an old man once, deep South, a man by the name of Scratch, said he came from even further down."

"Jonathon Scratch -? My my, such a small world."

"He offered to play dice with the men I worked with."

"You didn't -?"

"Nope. Didn' like the eyes on him much."

Ezra sighs slightly. "That was... very like you, Mister Tanner, and wise. He hates to lose, Ah've been told."

"Heard that too." Vin tips his hat and follows me.

I look him in the eyes, letting him know I heard.

"Anythin' I should know about, Vin?" I'd like to think I heard the same wrong... but something in me knows what sorta bone those dice are, and where the... hell the man named Scratch came from.

An' I don't much like it, and I'm glad that that even as a kid, Ez knew not to play him.

"We likely to ever meet up with this relative of his?"

A small smile quirks Vin's mouth, and his eyes take on that old, grubby-angel wisdom I know and trust. "Nah, Chris, he was hittin' a hundred at least when I ran inta him -"

"At least -?"

"Mebbe more, yeah. An' I reckon in one way or another, the rest of ya already said no, even JD. Ez - bein' Ez - just ended with a lil' souvenir..."

-the end-