Old West
It may have been the full moon. It may have been the hot steaminess of the weather in Four Corners for the past two weeks. It was probably due mostly to the two attempted bank robberies, an attempted prison break, cattle rustling, and a near disastrous fire close to the town that the seven peacekeepers were more exhausted than they had ever been. An exhaustion that increased as each found themselves unable to sleep. Josiah and Nathan, who normally fell asleep at the drop of a hat, grew more and more aggravated by the moment. Josiah had drank each one of Nathan's suggested teas to aid sleep until the normally even-tempered man had flung Nathan's last concoction out the window and had implied Nathan was close to following his tea. Angry, Nathan had retorted that he would drink the tea and show everyone what a good night's sleep could be; unfortunately he drank in vain, suddenly understanding why the others had balked at drinking the bitter teas. Vin was suffering from a grumbling tooth and the normally reticent tracker had been so vocal and ill-tempered, Nathan had chased him down the street with a large set of pliers, threatening to remove the tooth himself if Vin didn't quit his bellyaching. Usually one to get angry at someone threatening his close friend with pliers, Chris merely sat watching, legs stretched out by the rail, too bleary-eyed to do more than observe as Vin outran the pliers and the angry man welding them. Chris pulled his hat over his eyes and tried to relax. When Mr. Dunsworth had emerged from his store brandishing his jar of candy he claimed was diminishing due to some "worthless, no-good rabble" that he loudly demanded be arrested; while the two children he suspected were six and eight yelled they wouldn't be caught dead eating that "sorry excuse of horse manure Ole' Duncy tried to sell for a penny apiece"; Chris, without seeming to move, shot the jar shattering the glass and scattering the candy in the street. Dunsworth, who most citizens suspected had very little common sense, had just enough to cut his losses and run while Dirk and Henry, along with Billy Travis, were promised all the candy they wanted if they would clean the glass up. A couple of adults helped, and all were happy except for the fuming Dunsworth.
Ezra was not faring any better as he was unable to sleep and could not keep his concentration during his nightly hands of poker. Well-heeled "marks" had arrived on the stage, and Ezra would have found them a stimulating challenge if he had been able to keep up his usual sharpness. As it was, Maude would have been ashamed of his poor playing and disowned him on the spot. The fourth day, Ezra had decided to not play and to count cards (in lieu of sheep) as a way to fall into slumber. But each time he dozed, he was assailed of images of laughing men sweeping away his last dollar and himself, penniless, mocked, and horror of horrors! In dirty common clothes. That would jolt Ezra awake. That and the noise arising from JD's room. Buck had appointed himself the boy's sleep guardian, and JD found himself unable to drift off under Buck's scrutiny. Buck's order to fall asleep had the opposite effort on JD, and the couple of times he drifted off, Buck's loud snores awakened him. Finally, the irate youth threatened to toss Buck from his window and Buck saw a glint in the hazel eyes he had never seen before, so he decided to take his departure. After a few unsuccessful tries at drifting off, he left in search of "company". Unfortunately in his sleep-deprived state he forgot Ellen had gotten married and was chased away by her husband (whose rifle fortunately misfired). Buck then called one his favorite working gals, Sally by her rival's name, Lucy, in the midst of cuddling and escaped only with his red underclothes and no female companionship for the night.
The next morning as seven bleary-eyed, grumpy peacekeepers sat around their regular table, heads in their hands; elbows resting on the table, too tired to find the smell of coffee, biscuits and eggs appealing, it was the youngest that suddenly spoke up. "Hey, Ezra. Why dontcha read us one of your novels? You're always saying we need to improve our mines."
"Minds, JD, minds! Of course most of you here are like silver mines without the or,." Ezra laughed softly at his own joke but the others only yawned at the insult. "Here is the latest edition of a classical work." Ezra pulled out the book of an author he greatly admired and began to read, relishing the flowery language and finely structured sentences. And as Ezra read on, he was oblivious to the six pair of eyes now shut in blissful slumber, heads now resting on the table, Ezra only thinking of introducing some culture into his rather uncouth partners. Stopping for breath, he suddenly became aware of a few soft snores and looked around, dumbfounded. "Alas, the ingratitude. I am positive Sir Percy Wellington did not intend his work to become a sleep-inducing aid." Ezra closed the book and frowned. At least they were asleep. A sudden burst of inspiration registered in his tired brain as he spied a well-worn paperback under JD's right hand. "Well, if a classical novel can induce slumber in these so-called gentlemen, maybe JD's choice of poorly written refuse could help me. At least I will retire to my abode and rest in comfort upon my bed." Ezra arose, gave a two-fingered salute to his slumbering peacekeepers, and started up the street reading aloud. "The well-dressed gambler drew his last card from the stack and stared in horror at the Ace of Spades as he realized his cheating ways had caught up with him and was promptly shot in the heart by the man in black". Ezra shivered. "Good Lord! What complete and utter dribble!"