GUNSMOKE
"A Word Unspoken"
She watched the escalating argument from the safety of the bar. The good doctor's tongue was much sharper than usual, and Kitty Russell preferred being out of the target range.
"Did you fall off the back end of a cart and land on your head? What kind of cockamamie-back-end-of-a-mule logic is that?"
"Now thar ain't no cause fer you ta be a-callin' my mule names. I don't much care if you git ta sayin' thangs 'bout me, but pickin' on Ruth is a-goin' just too fer." Festus stood up abruptly and started away, but then thought better of it, and turned back, wagging his finger at Adams, "And as fer yer a-tellin' me what I ken and cain't start a-fixin' ta change round here with Matthew outta town, I jes' have me a mind ta fix yer wagon fer good.... dag-burned ol' goat. That's what you are ya know... a stubborn, mean-spirited ol' goat. Somebody done took out yer heart when you wasn't a-lookin'....if'n you ever had one in the first place."
Festus headed toward the swinging doors of the saloon, and Adams stood, shouting at the deputy, "I wasn't calling your mule names, you damned fool. You know, I don't know why I've wasted my breath talking to you all these years; you're just too damned dense to understand plain English anyway. You just go right on and do whatever you want. Matt'll just have to fix it when he gets back... I don't know why he left a stupid jackass in charge of Dodge instead of a real deputy anyway--"
Doc stopped himself, but it was too late. Kitty cringed. The look on the deputy's face sent a twinge through her chest, landing a lump in her throat. Everything in the saloon came to an abrupt halt. Festus just stood in the doorway, his hazel eyes radiating a puppy-like hurt. Adams swallowed hard, and ran a hand over his mustache and chin; an old habit that he couldn't break, especially when he was agitated. He had gone too far, and he knew it. But the words were out of his mouth, and he couldn't take them back. The two men stared at each other, with a large portion of Dodge observing them. Without saying a word, Festus turned and left the saloon, his head hanging down in sadness.
Adams stared in morbid silence at the swinging doors of the Long Branch. His gaze dropped to the floor, weighted down by his guilt. Most everyone in the saloon returned their attention to their own conversations, their drinks, and trying to look nonchalant a moment later, but Doc couldn't move. It felt as if there was a hole burning through his stomach; he knew he could be harsh at times, especially with Festus, but he had never intended to say anything so hurtful. And for as much as Festus could sometimes drive him to drink, he knew the man meant well; if ever there was a heart of gold, Deputy Festus Haggen had cornered the market.
He sensed her presence standing next to him, but he couldn't make eye contact with her.
"You were unusually hard on him. Any reason for it?"
He shook his head, "Just stupidity--"
Kitty rebuked him, "--That's uncalled for..."
Finally the steely blue eyes met her soft ones, "Not his... mine."
She studied the old doctor for a moment, and her eyes narrowed.
"Are you feeling okay?"
"Of course."
She fixed her gaze on him, and he realized he answered too quickly. His eyes dropped away.
Her eyes softened, "Anything you want to talk about?"
He looked away, then back at her, "I just..... I haven't been sleeping well. It's catching up with me a little bit."
From time to time the responsibilities of being the only doctor for miles around, coupled with the fact that he wasn't getting any younger, took a larger toll on him than he wanted to admit. Kitty Russell had seen it a few times before in recent years, the lack of rest turning him slightly cranky.
She rubbed a light hand across his back, "Why don't you go after Festus, and bring him back for a drink? I think you both could use one."
He knew she was right; he just hated to admit it.
Kitty smiled at him, "Tell you what, after the crowd thins out, we'll have a chat over some coffee, just the two of us, okay?"
A mischievous smile tugged at the old man's lips, "I don't need a mother hen...."
A red brow shot up, "That's debatable...." They grinned at each other, and she continued, "You'll feel better after a chat and a good night's sleep.... not to mention an apology to Festus."
"Apology? Who said anything about an apology?" She started to protest, but he held a hand up, resigned, "Hold the lecture. I'm going already...."
Doc picked up his hat, but before he could put it on, Clive Hansen entered the saloon at a run.
"Doc! Doc! My wife... she's...she's--"
"--Calm down, Clive. What's the problem?"
"The baby.... she's havin' the baby, but somethin's wrong....please, you have to hurry..."
"Bag's in my office, we can get it on the way."
Kitty touched Doc's hand lightly, "I'll tell Festus you want to speak with him later...."
Doc nodded at Kitty, put his hat on, and followed Hansen out.
She watched the escalating argument from the safety of the bar. The good doctor's tongue was much sharper than usual, and Kitty Russell preferred being out of the target range.
"Did you fall off the back end of a cart and land on your head? What kind of cockamamie-back-end-of-a-mule logic is that?"
"Now thar ain't no cause fer you ta be a-callin' my mule names. I don't much care if you git ta sayin' thangs 'bout me, but pickin' on Ruth is a-goin' just too fer." Festus stood up abruptly and started away, but then thought better of it, and turned back, wagging his finger at Adams, "And as fer yer a-tellin' me what I ken and cain't start a-fixin' ta change round here with Matthew outta town, I jes' have me a mind ta fix yer wagon fer good.... dag-burned ol' goat. That's what you are ya know... a stubborn, mean-spirited ol' goat. Somebody done took out yer heart when you wasn't a-lookin'....if'n you ever had one in the first place."
Festus headed toward the swinging doors of the saloon, and Adams stood, shouting at the deputy, "I wasn't calling your mule names, you damned fool. You know, I don't know why I've wasted my breath talking to you all these years; you're just too damned dense to understand plain English anyway. You just go right on and do whatever you want. Matt'll just have to fix it when he gets back... I don't know why he left a stupid jackass in charge of Dodge instead of a real deputy anyway--"
Doc stopped himself, but it was too late. Kitty cringed. The look on the deputy's face sent a twinge through her chest, landing a lump in her throat. Everything in the saloon came to an abrupt halt. Festus just stood in the doorway, his hazel eyes radiating a puppy-like hurt. Adams swallowed hard, and ran a hand over his mustache and chin; an old habit that he couldn't break, especially when he was agitated. He had gone too far, and he knew it. But the words were out of his mouth, and he couldn't take them back. The two men stared at each other, with a large portion of Dodge observing them. Without saying a word, Festus turned and left the saloon, his head hanging down in sadness.
Adams stared in morbid silence at the swinging doors of the Long Branch. His gaze dropped to the floor, weighted down by his guilt. Most everyone in the saloon returned their attention to their own conversations, their drinks, and trying to look nonchalant a moment later, but Doc couldn't move. It felt as if there was a hole burning through his stomach; he knew he could be harsh at times, especially with Festus, but he had never intended to say anything so hurtful. And for as much as Festus could sometimes drive him to drink, he knew the man meant well; if ever there was a heart of gold, Deputy Festus Haggen had cornered the market.
He sensed her presence standing next to him, but he couldn't make eye contact with her.
"You were unusually hard on him. Any reason for it?"
He shook his head, "Just stupidity--"
Kitty rebuked him, "--That's uncalled for..."
Finally the steely blue eyes met her soft ones, "Not his... mine."
She studied the old doctor for a moment, and her eyes narrowed.
"Are you feeling okay?"
"Of course."
She fixed her gaze on him, and he realized he answered too quickly. His eyes dropped away.
Her eyes softened, "Anything you want to talk about?"
He looked away, then back at her, "I just..... I haven't been sleeping well. It's catching up with me a little bit."
From time to time the responsibilities of being the only doctor for miles around, coupled with the fact that he wasn't getting any younger, took a larger toll on him than he wanted to admit. Kitty Russell had seen it a few times before in recent years, the lack of rest turning him slightly cranky.
She rubbed a light hand across his back, "Why don't you go after Festus, and bring him back for a drink? I think you both could use one."
He knew she was right; he just hated to admit it.
Kitty smiled at him, "Tell you what, after the crowd thins out, we'll have a chat over some coffee, just the two of us, okay?"
A mischievous smile tugged at the old man's lips, "I don't need a mother hen...."
A red brow shot up, "That's debatable...." They grinned at each other, and she continued, "You'll feel better after a chat and a good night's sleep.... not to mention an apology to Festus."
"Apology? Who said anything about an apology?" She started to protest, but he held a hand up, resigned, "Hold the lecture. I'm going already...."
Doc picked up his hat, but before he could put it on, Clive Hansen entered the saloon at a run.
"Doc! Doc! My wife... she's...she's--"
"--Calm down, Clive. What's the problem?"
"The baby.... she's havin' the baby, but somethin's wrong....please, you have to hurry..."
"Bag's in my office, we can get it on the way."
Kitty touched Doc's hand lightly, "I'll tell Festus you want to speak with him later...."
Doc nodded at Kitty, put his hat on, and followed Hansen out.