A Contemplation of Life, a lancer fanfic

A Contemplation of Life

"Life is uncharted territory.

It reveals its story one moment at a time."

Leo Buscaglia

(Life is not predetermined. Nothing is written in stone. You can make your life turn out however you want.)

Ok so he wasn't doin' too good at this moment in time, but he'd had worse, Dios knew he had had worse.

His whole life he had good days and bad days and worse days, well today was more or less just like any other day.

He an' tha Ol' Man had tangled again, what with his tune callin' an' my pleasing personality, guess you could see the fireworks all tha way ta Morro Coyo.

Poor T'resa was stuck right in tha middle, seems me an' tha Ol' Man couldn't just dance with just each other, others had ta be led ta partake of our little parleys.

I was tired of it an' tha Ol' Man was tired of it an' I am sure T'resa, Scott, Maria, Jelly an' half tha San Joaquin Valley was tired of it.

So here I am lookin' out over Lancer, my land, my home my place of sanctuary an' thinkin', is all this worth tha headache, constant pussy-footin' around tha Ol' Man afraid if I put one foot outta place he would come down on me like God from Heaven.

I mean I was, well still am, Johnny Madrid but I am also Johnny Lancer, how can I make tha two one?

Wish it were as easy as T'resa mending a shirt, just a well placed stitch there an' cut tha' excess thread an' everything was good as new.

Dios, I want it all to be new, I want to be here I want tha Ol' Man ta be proud of me like he is of Scott.

When Murdoch Lancer, my Ol' Man looks at me I can feel him comparin' me ta Scott. Scott, my big brother, someone I never knew existed until a few short months ago.

I gotta agree with most everyone around, Scott is a person ta be proud of… I know I am, sometimes 'bout burst my buttons on my shirt I bow up so proud.

I could see tha animosity in his eyes when we first met, that's one of them big college words my brother likes ta spout off with. Not used ta bein' 'round a man who kills for a livin', not used ta tha uneducated, illmannerd paragon of all he shunned in a man, as his brother.

Hell, if it were me, I'da gone on a fast horse outta here, let 'em eat my dust 'fore they knew I was gone.

But Ol' Boston, he gave me a chance, acted like he wanted me ta stay.

Can't say I was appreciatin' of his easy, soft spoken way of tellin' me that I was important to him, that I meant something to him even more than tha' Ol' Man's blood flowing in our veins.

Thinkin' back on that first meetin' on tha stage going ta Morro Coyo, if I hadn't wanted ta play with tha fancy Eastern gentleman, I'da paid Scott no mind. But that fancy outfit he wore an' that funny bowler hat perched up there on his blond head, hell it was just too easy.

And then, T'resa, opened her mouth an' said, 'brother'.

Even after our little dust-off that first day, Scott wanted ta make us work. When he and the Lancer hands rode off to chase Pardee an' he had tossed over his shoulder that silent disapproval in his eyes of my not joining him, he came back an' had asked tha Ol' Man where I was.

I learned that from T'resa, later on, as I was recuperatin' from Pardees bullet in my back.

Now in my line of work it didn't pay ta have anyone worry 'bout you, it makes complications in a dangerous world.

A gunfighter can't have someone close, it gives tha other man somthin' ta hold over ya. Family, friends… just don't pay ta have a gap in tha walls ya have ta build up just ta survive tha ugliness in this world.

So I guess that was my problem with Murdoch, Scott, Teresa tha whole damn valley, I was scared… yeah ya heard from tha horse's mouth, Johnny Madrid Lancer was scared.

Now, I know plenty of men that been scared, good men, tough men but they weren't Johnny Madrid. From tha time I was ten, scared just wasn't in my vocabulary.

Oh I been cautious 'bout things, made sure of my surroundings, tha people involved and weighed any consequences as to countless outcomes.

Scared, no. Padre Joseph told me a long time ago, tha Devil had his hand on my collar just waitin' ta pull my sorry carcass ta Hell if I didn't mend my ways an' let God rule my heart.

Well God an' Johnny Madrid got kinda pact goin' on, he don't give me no orders an' I'll keep my path clear so I don't slip an' fall. Course I don't answer to tha Devil either… guess that kinda puts me right on tract.

Johnny Madrid don't take orders from any one, but this tune caller, this man who wants ta make up for all tha lost years of my life as Johnny Lancer, well that's where all this bickerin' an head-buttin' comes in.

I want to see the pride in Murdoch's eyes when he looks at me, why I have no clue. I want ta make a go at bein' a rancher, a brother, a friend and a son.

Beign' a brother ain't too hard, least with Scott it ain't, he's an easy man ta like, never knew a man like Scott.

Smart, a real gentleman who didn't look down his nose at no one. Oh we've had discussions 'bout how I lived my life when I was younger… course not goin' inta any details of how many men died by my gun or how many estancias I helped take over.

I mean yeah, Scott fought in a bloody war enough ta make a lot of men become bitter and cold. He, like me, don't go inta much detail 'bout our life before Lancer. I figure he'd tell me in time… that's if I decide ta stay that long, I sure would like ta hear that story. Guess I got some figurin' ta do, all this gives me a pain in tha head, ain't a of matter yes or no, just a lot of what ifs.

What if one of them got hurt 'cause of my past, my heart an' soul ain't so far gone I could live with that.

T'resa she's a good kid, hearts always in tha right place even if her head don't think all things through. I mean take for example when I was laid up in bed with Ol' Day's bullet in my back.

She didn't know me, my past, who Johnny Madrid was, she only knew I was Murdoch Lancer's son. I been able to work my way around anyone, get 'em ta see what they wanna see since I was a kid, but when I first laid eyes on tha kid, that's all I saw… a kid tryin' ta be grown up.

It's a shame we live in an ugly world an' she had to grow up fast when her Daddy was ambushed by Pardee an' killed. An' tha man she looked up to bein' a second Daddy was shot in tha same ambush and nearly died.

But I learned real quick, Miss Teresa O'Brien has a mind of her own and a way of workin' her own dodge ta get her way.

Nope, Miss T'resa, she may be young but she grew up fast like me she just ain't as... what did Scott call it… cynical yeah that was it, cynical.

She's kinda like my brother, see's tha good in people until they do somethin' ta change their mind.

What if I left Lancer? I would miss T'resa's wide smile, her soft eyes, my 'sister', friend an' soundin' board an' she's a real good cook.

She has tender hands when she tends our hurts an', Dios, she can turn on those tears ta make a man change his mind 'bout somethin' just ta make her smile.

Somewhere in Johnny Madrid's heart she filled a little space an' pushed out some of tha ugliness livin' there, an' Johnny Lancer loved her for it.

I'd miss her, worry 'bout her an' kick my self if I hurt her, what she see's in me, I just don't see it.

Scott, lived through a war that had brother aginst brother, father aginst son. Seen tha bad side of life that war brings with it. Poverty, pain, starvation the loss of everything a man held to his heart. Saw death at a young age up close an' personal like, kinda like me.

I could see it in his eyes, that haunted look like something burned itself into his soul. Reminds me of a Lancer brand burning it's mark on a calf, to be there forever.

Oh, now Scott don't sit 'round broodin' on what he's seen an' done he bein a good poker player he can hold his cards to his chest an' put on a good face.

I can see through it, I had ta be able ta read a man just from his eyes an' how he reacts ta my taunts. Ol' Boston he can try ta hide what he's feelin', but I'm too good at my trade for him ta hold that poker face 'fore it slides an' I see tha pain an' hurt an' ghosts.

Somethin' we got in common 'sides tha Ol' Man's blood, we done seen tha ugliness in life an' lived ta still see tha beauty of a sunrise an' smile at a kids laugh.

Huh, now I'm getting' all deep-thinking, been able ta think things through, but I'm stumped on this family thing.

Hearing a shod hoof strike a stone Johnny turned in his saddle, leather creaking he smiled as his blond haired big brother rode up beside him.

For just a minute the brothers sat silent looking out over Lancer, their combined heritage, their new life.

Scott was the first to speak in his low easy going voice, "we were wondering where you had gotten to. Something on your mind besides your loud discussion with Murdoch?"

Johnny sat quietly for a minute more, he placed both hands on the pommel of his saddle, bowed his head and sighed, "Nope, just contemplatin'."

It was Scott's turn to sigh as he thought to himself, 'this boy could try the patience of a saint'.

Since being introduced as his brother Scott knew Johnny was a man of few words, no flowery comments, no expounding of the obvious just epigrams, a smile, a pout or the Madrid glare to finish it up.

Scott leaned towards his brother, his saddle leather squeaking, "Maria said to tell you she is making something special for her Juanito and Teresa was just frosting a three tiered cake."

Johnny smiled, "what kinda cake?" Scott smiled back, "she told me to tell you that if you wanted to know you would get, and I quote, 'your sorry tail home where you belong', unquote."

Johnny's lips quirked up at the corners and his blue eyes filled with silent laughter, "she talk like that in front of the Ol' Man. Whoo-wee she sure can get 'er petticoats in a twist."

Scott lowered his head then looked back up at his brother, "she cares about you brother, we all do."

"Jelly and Dewdrop were standing out by the barn lookin' in this direction. And Murdoch was standing at the great window, hands behind his back and very softly ask me to track you down and brng you back. He's sorry about losing his temper. Johnny he knows he was wrong."

Johnny laughed, "huh, he admit that? He coulda said somethin' then, 'stead of lettin' me beat my head against tha barn wall."

Scott twisted in his saddle once more to look directly at his brother.

"Johnny have you thought about our father, what makes him who he is, why he is so wrong-headed and stubborn?"

Johnny's lips drew down into a pout, "I can read a man, I know he went through a lot ta build Lancer, I ain't so uneducated…. I know what he lost an' gained ."

Scott nodded, "that is true you are a very observant fellow you would have ruled the boardrooms back in Boston, even grandfather could have learned a few things from you."

Johnny relaxed and smiled, "never met tha man, but he sounds even more wrong-headed an stubborn than tha Ol' Man. Scott it's just… he don't give an inch. Grownin' up on tha border I learned real quick that indecision and chargin' in before ya check out your surroundin's could make ya dead."

The younger man sighed, shrugged his shoulders and bowed his head, "he don't give me tha chance ta explain the things I do. Always thinkin' tha worst of me, like all he sees is a mestizo gunhawk."

Scott put out a hand and grabbed his brothers shoulder with somewhat more force than he had intended and was summarily met with a gun barrel pointed in his face, "relax brother, I…."

"Dios, Scott, I tol' ya never ta grab at me like that."

Scott released his grip but did not remove his hand, somewhere in his past his little brother had been hurt and hurt bad. Scott had a good dose of stubborn and patience, "Johnny, Murdoch has never seen you as anything less than his son."

"Your mother may have been confused, angry, dissillusioned and meant to hurt the man by taking you away from your rightful home, but brother I can assure you he does love you," Scott let his hand fall to the pommell of his saddle as Johnny returned his gun to its holster.

Johnny twisted back to look out at the gathering twilight, the lights of the hacienda being lit and he smiled, in his soft drawl spoke to his brother, "you said T'resa was frostin' a cake huh?"

"Yes little brother and Maria was adding something hot and spicey to the chili I smelled simmering," looking across to his brother Scott smiled, "and Murdoch was looking quite contrite."

Johnny didn't understand the word Scott used to describe his, their, father,not that he was stupid, just he had never heard that word before, "what he got gas or somethin'?"

Scott grinned, "not precisely, it means he's sorry about the argument over something so senseless."

"Nah it weren't all senseless, I mean he had a point and I understand where he was comin' from. What put a burr under my saddle was he didn't even listen to me 'fore he started raisin' his all-mighty Lancer tune caller voice and tellin' me I was wrong."

"And, little brother, I brought that to his attention after your hasty departure. He admitted he was wrong.. so come back and let him tell you himself," Scott hoped the ruffled feathers of his ex-gunfighter brother would soon lay flat again and they could continue this new found family thing.

"So what say you Johnny, want to witness first hand our Old Man's, 'you'll get no apology from me,' remourse?"

Johnny shifted in his saddle and grinned, "you got a mean streak in that Boston blue blood runnin' in your veins, brother."

Scott reined his mount around and called back over his shoulder, "I tend to think of it as our Old Man's stubborn, bull-headed Scottish blood, I , we, come by it naturally."

Johnny chuckled as he turned his horses head to follow in his brothers footsteps, "well he'd best remember I got a good dose of Latin fire runnin' in mine."

Scott reined up to wait as Johnny sided in beside him, knees touching he grinned at his brother, "oh I think you got that across to him with no uncertainty."

Johnny was silent for a moment as the brothers walked their horses towards home. Scott knew he could have lost his brother tonight and he told Murdoch with definate certainty he would not stay at Lancer if the younger man left.

As the brotheres made their slow meander home the patriarch was staring out of the great window behind his desk, he could see the expanse of Lancer spread out before him.

It was not only the threat of both sons leaving that Murdoch began to comtemplate his actions, he was wrong-headed in his treatment of his younger son and he was shocked at himself at how he treated both his sons.

They were not just an extra pair of hands, they were equal partners and partners listened to each other.

It was after his segundo, Cipriano, came to explain why Johnny had done what he had done that Murdoch understood. He had jumped to the wrong conclusion where it concerned his younger son.

Maria, his confidant and housekeeper and his ward, Paul O'Brien's daughter, Teresa, both tore into him about how Johnny was his son, not a wayward ranch hand. They were more menacing than some mountain lioness protecting her cub.

So he waited, hoping his elder son could bring his younger son home.

He had not been forced to face himself since Catherine died and Maria left, but he had a reckoning looming before him. It would be hard and he was not used to biting his tongue, but he would do this for Lancer, no that was not right, it wasn't the land he was thinking of it was his two sons.

His sons, his legacy. Placing a hand over his chest he felt a little stab of pain, he knew the bitterness and despair had just melted from his heart.

Turning back from the window he sat behind his desk and opened the top drawer and removed the photos. He gazed at the likenesses of the women he had loved.

For the love he had had for Catherine and Maria and for the sons that love brought forth he would be Murdoch Lancer, father. And it would be for that love Lancer would thrive and prosper and forever be Lancer.

"Everyman has his secret sorrows which the world knows not, and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad."

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

November 2014

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