All the usual disclaimers apply. Don't own them, wish I did. Thanks in advance for reading this and for all the support on my past efforts.
Yes, Mr. Larabee, I do believe I can be relied upon on to be, as you so elegantly expressed, "ready to haul ass" at sunrise. Will I do so without a soliloquy on the merits of a feather bed? Doubtful. However, I expect you anticipate such commentaries, and in all probability they are in fact a part of the morning routine. It would be akin to tempting some kind of karmic retribution for me to fail in the ritual.
You should have discerned by this point that simply because I choose to voice my displeasure, does not mean I will fail to be primed and prepared. You might have noted that had you paused to give a moments consideration to the last – oh I don't know – 18 months or so that we have been doing this. Save for the morning I was too ill to rise, I do not recall a solitary occasion I have failed to ride out as promised. Late from time to time, certainly. But then, we all have been. Yourself included. How many times have we had to send someone to summon Mr. Wilmington from his conquest of the evening? How often has someone had to splash water on Mr. Sanchez after an evening with too much liquid refreshment. We've had to do that once or twice – or more – for you as well, particularly when you have been wallowing in grief. But, pay no heed to those instances. My occasional tardiness is the focus of discussion at this time – well, at all times.
Oh, my apologies Mr. Wilmington, Mr. Sanchez. Have I perchance offended you by drawing attention to your indiscretions or weaknesses? It was my understanding that such issues were fair game, as mine certainly seem to be.
Your sins, your foibles, your idiosyncrasies are freely forgiven on a consistent basis. In your case Mr. Wilmington, even admired and aspired to by our young Mr. Dunne. Explained away, laughed and joked about. A man of prowess to be envied no doubt.
It would take quite literally no time at all ascertain the number of mornings I have been unable to function because of a hangover. I have never missed the call to arms because I could not see straight enough to walk, let alone shoot. But, as you Mr. Sanchez are clearly a man of higher morals, who spends his spare time rebuilding a church, your transgressions are forgiven and forgotten. I, on the other hand, am derided and loathed for my actions, my hobbies, my activities. My spare time, you would claim, is in a gambling den, luring unsuspecting victims into my web, depriving all of hearth and home. Milk and food from widows and orphans.
Ezra Standish? Why he is a man of no character, no ethics. I'm sure the lovely Miss Wells will attest to my lack of principles, my wicked ways. Clearly any respect or concern I might have for her, or for you Mr. Dunne, as her suitor, would not deter an immoral man such as myself from leaping at the opportunity to take advantage of her ill-advised and undoubtedly deeply regretted offering. Although, if memory serves, I did, kindly I hope, reject her advances. Must have been some kind of aberration.
You, Mr. Jackson, will never get beyond the fact I am a southerner. I imagine the mere sound of my voice, my southern accent, is cause to bring to the front your instinct to mistrust me. I can appreciate why you feel that way. I do not pretend for a moment to understand what you went through; I can tell you I saw enough of it to last me a lifetime. But you do not allow for the idea that I was opposed to that way of life. I'm sure you are aware of the underground railways, the southerners who aided in the escape to freedom of so many slaves; the spies within the ranks of the Confederacy who did what they could end the travesty of war. That you have never dreamt of the possibility that I am anything beyond that southern stereotype should bother me, but that would accomplish nothing.
Ah, Mr. Tanner. Yes, I must concede, you are far less a subject of my ire than the remainder of our compatriots. But as with ALL mortal men, you are not without sin. Yours is a sin of omission. In your own way, you are no better than the others here. No, you have not vocalized the same level of contempt for my lifestyle, my heritage or my previous chosen career. But make no mistake sir. I have seen you laugh with the others. I have seen you nod in agreement. What I have not done is hear you come to my defence. Not heard you deny their jibes or insults. In many ways, that is more hurtful, as you offer the appearance of being a friend, yet I cannot feel in my heart that is the case.
Understand, I do not doubt for a moment that you gentlemen all would have my back in the heat of a battle, in the event of any confrontation. I know this to be true, as I have seen it. As I have seen you come to the aid of anyone in need of such protection or assistance. You did it for Judge Travis on the first day he rode into town, not having an inkling of who he was. In fact, you did it for this town with no incentive beyond the fact it was the right thing to do. You immediately trusted each other to be part of that team. Each other, yes. Me, no. I had to practically beg to be released from prison – and for what. To walk into a den of thieves and killers, providing you all with an ease of access that would have impossible, or at least highly unlikely, without my presence.
I know you will defend my life as surely as I know you will never defend ME. You will never move beyond my initial betrayal, no matter how many times I have proven myself to you since.
I do not deny my sins gentlemen. They are many, and some are truly heinous. But for all my transgressions, all my multitude of flaws, I do not consider self-delusion to me amoung them. I do not profess to be holier than thou, and then refuse to so much as consider forgiving another for his actions. I do not claim to be a friend and then deny my support in times of need. I do not burn with an naiveté that leads to rash and dangerous decisions. I do practice what I preach.
I do elect to consider that – just possibly – perchance – I have made enough advancement recent times to initiate a balancing of the scale, even if it is only a minor tipping at this time. I concede gentlemen, that my past leaves much to be desired. But to quote Mr. Sanchez's favorite book – "let he who is without sin cast the first stone." I grant, it is too late for that to apply, as I have the metaphorical bruises to prove. Perhaps, you might consider laying down the rest of your projectiles, at least long enough to determine if you are throwing them a me, or at history.
In short gentlemen – back off!"
"Standish? Did you hear me? You listening to me?"
Ezra sighed, brought back to reality from his moment of wishful thinking. "Yes Mr. Larabee, I am indeed listening to you. I appear to have no choice in that matter. And yes, I will be ready to "haul ass". He turned and left the saloon, aware of six pair of eyes focusing on his departure.
"What the hell is his problem?" Larabee growled.
"Ah Chris, you know Ezra. He was just daydreaming about somethin'. Probably about heading up to that feather bed of his."
"I don't know Buck, he seemed more upset than daydreaming." Vin looked through the door, watching the gambler head down the stairs. "Whachya say to piss him off Chris?"
The man in black looked surprised. "Whaddya mean what did I say? Same thing I always say to him when we have an early ride – to make sure he got his ass outta bed on time."
"Oh. Give the same gentle reminder to Buck? Or Josiah? JD? Nathan?"
"They don't need it."
"Really? I've had to track down Buck with his latest lady a lot more often than I've gone after Ezra."
Chris glared, but Josiah spoke before he could let out the corresponding growl.
"I must confess I think I have been absent from more early rides than our fancy compatriot has."
Chris ignored the big man, focussing on Vin. "What's your point?"
"Wondering why you set Ezra aside for harassing. Ain't none of us perfect."
"None of us screwed up as much as he has either."
"Really Nathan? Just how has he screwed up recently."
Chris answered. "Left us at the Seminole –"
"Goddamn it Chris, that was months ago! That the best you can do?"
"Stole that money."
"Right. 'Cept of course he never left town with it, since he was too busy bleeding after saving Mary's life. You got any other examples Nathan?"
"You've seen him at the tables. He's a con and a cheater."
"Confidence man, no doubt about it. But I have never seen him cheat anyone. Yeah, he'll take advantage of the opportunity to place a bet or lay odds on anything you can name. But never once seen him take money from someone who couldn't afford it. Leastwise not without giving them every opportunity to back away. Hell, saw him lose on purpose once to make sure a kid off one of the stagecoaches money to get home."
Buck looked at Vin, remembering the moment. "Thought that seemed like a bad move on his part, playing out that hand. That's what he was doing? Makes a lot more sense now."
"Standish wouldn't do that. Loves to win too much. Loves his money too much." Nathan wouldn't back down. "Too damned full of himself."
Josiah raised a weary head and looked at the young healer. "Not up to your moral standards, right Nathan. If we are going to be accusing one of our own of representing any of the seven deadly sins, we should ensure the blame gets spread accordingly. Got to say, the sin of pride is pretty evident in you today my friend."
"Ain't Wrath another of those sins Josiah?" JD asked, looking cautiously toward Chris as he made the comment.
"Indeed it is. And even without taking all of the sins too literally, I think it is safe to say that none amoung us is exactly what one might call pure."
"You fellas got a point in any of this?" Chris fought to keep his voice level in light of JD's not so veiled accusation. The Larabee temper, he acknowledged, was legendary.
Vin sighed. "Just saying it seems to me we all seem to pretty comfortable making Ezra a target for doing much the same as we all do on a regular basis. Ain't really fair."
"And you come to the revelation today because…"
"Don't know for sure Nathan. And don't get me wrong – I do it too. Maybe not as obvious, but I sure don't do much that qualifies me as a friend either."
"What makes you think he wants to be friends? He's not exactly acting that way, calling us all 'Mister" all the time and such."
JD looked puzzled by Nathan's question. "Doesn't everyone want to have friends?"
"I don' think he really knows how to make friends." Buck said, a bit surprised himself by the thought. "I mean, think about it. We've met Maude. Seen the way she is with him, the way he is around her. Heard some of what he's said about how he grew up going from con to con."
"He never had friends?" JD suddenly felt very sad for the dapper, smooth-talking man. "That just ain't right."
Chris poured himself a healthy shot of whiskey as he thought Buck's idea over.
"While you're pondering on that, I got another question for you Cowboy." Vin ignored the scowl from Chris, who hated being called Cowboy. "Why is he still here?"
"What'ya mean? He's doin' a job."
"Earned his pardon ages ago, so that can't be it. And as for a job – he can make more in an honest night of poker in any saloon in the west than he makes in a month being here. Fewer folks shooting at him too. But he stays. Got any idea why?'
"Probably hatching some other plan, working out the details." Even Nathan didn't seem convinced of this as he spoke the words.
The men at the table looked at each other for a couple of minutes, mulling it over.
"Ya think he likes doing this?" JD wondered. He loved the job himself. It was the adventure of a lifetime, and even though he had come to learn it wasn't as simple as it sounded in the adventure books he loved, he revelled in his role of lawman of the wild west. Ezra, though, didn't seem the type to relish that sort of undertaking.
"Don't know that he really loves this kid, at least not like you do. And he doesn't exactly fit the idea of hired gun does he?" Buck had been just that most of his adult life, and couldn't really see himself in any other role. But the rough and adventurous life didn't match up to the suave and elegant lifestyle preferred by the gambler.
Vin finally looked at Chris. "It's you."
"Me? What the hell do you mean it's me? I sure ain't keepin' him here. More trouble than he's worth most of the time."
"Made a promise. He's not going anywhere."
"I never asked him to promise me anyth-" he stopped, realizing what Vin meant. "What, when I told him not to run out on us again? Hell, that was different. He wants to leave all he has to do is let us know."
Vin shook his head at the denseness surrounding him. "For reasons that are becoming less and less understandable with every word I'm hearing, Ezra respects you. Respects us. He knows he let us down, in a big way. He's still trying to make up for it. I'm guessing he won't leave until he thinks he done that, or we kick him out of here. Even then, he'd likely stay close."
"When did you figure all this out?" Nathan was angry at Ezra, and now Vin, even though he wasn't entirely sure why.
"Pretty much just now – listening to all this and trying to figure out why I'd stick around if you treated me like you do him."
"I think you're right Vin." Buck was nodding. "Makes sense, in a weird Ezra kind of way. Man has his own way of looking at the world, don't he?"
"May not be exactly a traditional moral code, but he has his own set of standards, and I am beginning to think he is far more true to them than we have been to ours." Josiah agreed.
"OK, assuming your right – and I'm not saying I'm sure you are – what are we supposed to do about it?"
"Hell Chris, that's easy." JD grinned. "Treat him fair. Or at least like the way you do the rest of us." The young man frowned, thinking that didn't quite come out the way it had sounded in his head. Buck snorted when he tried not to laugh at the anxious look the kid cast toward Chris.
"It's OK JD, I get what you meant. Am I that bad?" They all shrugged, avoiding the subject as best they could. "Damn it."
"Look, maybe I'm reading this all wrong, but I think all of us need to ease up on him a bit. Unless maybe you want him to move on."
"No, we don't want that do we?" JD got worried at the thought. "Guys, come on. Nobody wants him to go right?" All eyes turned to Nathan, who let out a long, soft sigh.
"No, I don't want him to go. I don't see us ever becoming friends, but I admit he's good for the team. And, I guess I got to admit he seems to be trying to do the right thing, to fit in." He looked to Josiah. "Guess I could try to be a little less judgemental."
"We all have our flaws Brother. I know I have more than my share. Chris, I won't promise to never be hung over again, but I shall make a harder effort to avoid that, or at least moderate the degree."
"Nobody called you on it Josiah."
"Yes, but you should have." Chris just nodded, and turned to look at Buck. The team Romeo got a bit panicky.
"Now Chris, you ain't suggesting I change my ways. Think of all of the disappointed ladies there would be in town. Hell, in the territory."
"But imagine how much safer you'd be without all them angry boyfriends and husbands after you." JD stopped grinning when the bigger man gave him a head slap, sending his hat flying across the table.
"We can't expect you to stop being all that you are Buck. Only asking that you keep in mind what might be happening the next morning. Maybe a few nights off wouldn't kill you."
"I'll consider it, but no promises from me either."
The table went quiet as each man contemplated the changes they would be making in their attitudes and actions in the days ahead. One by one, with no further words, each headed out for the night.
The sun was clearing the rooftops as Ezra walked quickly toward the livery. He wasn't exactly running late, but by the time he would be able to prepare Chaucer for the ride, Chris would no doubt have comments to make. He by-passed the lure of coffee to try to give himself a few extra minutes, and groaned silently when he entered the stable area to see Chris, Vin and Buck already there.
"My apologies gentlemen, it must be later than I believed. I shall have Chaucer ready post-haste."
"No rush Ezra. We're a bit early is all. Take your time."
The gambler looked at Chris, trying not to let his jaw hang open in surprise. When the man in black handed him a horse blanket and smiled, Ezra became suspicious that there were nefarious plans afoot.
"Is there something I should know about? Something else going on gentlemen."
"Nope" Buck grinned widely. "Just helping our a friend is all. Anything wrong in that?"
"No Mr. Wilmington , I cannot say there is an issue with that action. It's just…"
"It's just that it hasn't happened before?"
"No Mr. Tanner. It is an unusual circumstance, you must concede."
"Ezra?"
"Mr. Larabee?"
"You do know our names, right? Chris? Vin? Buck? You know the others too?"
"Of course."
"Think you might try using them from time to time."
"The use of Mister is a sign of respect sir."
"The use of a first name is the sign of friendship. Ezra."
The gambler finished readying Chaucer and turned to look directly at the lawmen, who were now being joined by the remaining men. He could read no ulterior motivation in their faces. Each of them were looking at him almost as if seeing him for the first time. There were varying degrees of warmth coming from them. Nathan was still staying a bit further back, not quite as committed, but was there nevertheless. At the other end was JD, all but bouncing on the balls of his feet with his enthusiasm for the adventure ahead.
But it was clear that all of them had somehow come to the same conclusion. He took an moment to look at Vin, the most likely source of their enlightenment. The sharpshooter said nothing, but a shy grin and his need to break eye contact told the tale.
"I shall make every effort to remember that – Chris. Well gentlemen, are we ready to ride. Since I have dragged myself from the warmth and comfort of my featherbed, I think it is time we "haul ass." He grinned, gold tooth catching the sun has he mounted up and headed out. With equally wide smiles, the others followed close behind.
