As the Dust Settles
Simon Pearson
If anyone had asked him several years ago if he would own his own general store with a woman by his side he would have laughed in their face. It just hadn't seemed possible, even if he was quite proud of his cooking abilities. Simon most definitely didn't start out lucky, although some would say he was rather fortunate to have survived a plague whilst stranded out at sea for fifty days straight.
But cooking and butchering he could do, as no one had complained about his stew, not even when food was scarce, and he was reduced to gathering up carrots and cabbage with added herbs and spices to make a tasty enough soup. Those had been hard times, when they'd been trapped up in the mountains in an area known as Colter. Some might say it never got any easier from there on out.
But life had been kind to Pearson as of late and had granted him respect and love. Something he never would have thought would happen.
It had started out as simply running errands for the Rhodes general store, stocking shelves and cheerfully greeting customers. The town had damn near fallen as of the end of the Gray's and the Braithwaite's feud. But business was slowly picking up again, and it came time for the elderly store owner to sell shop.
Pearson had been working there for over a year by then, and the thought crossed his mind to buy the place himself. He was utterly terrified to walk into the bank to ask for a loan. Go figure he found it far more frightening to ask for money rather than be shot at by Pinkerton's or O'Driscoll's. Not that he'd fought much alongside the other men in the camp. But the camp needed a cook, and a rather good one at that. Some might have said he was good for morale, using his food as a way to break the up the day with his jolly and rather cheerful attitude.
As Mr. Pearson walked out of the bank no one could shake the grin off his face. He'd been accepted, and the next step was to fill out the paperwork. And just a week later Pearson walked into the Rhodes General Store not as a worker, but as a proud business owner.
It was around this time that he met his now wife, Martha, a local woman who happened to enter the store one day. It still puzzled Pearson how he'd managed to swipe up a wife, even if she nagged at him sometimes. Life was honest and simple, even if his life before was not.
On this particular day it started out as any other, a wagon was due in from a farm not too far from the Braithwaite's old property and Pearson was set to load it up with enough goods to last a month. It was something he enjoyed about the job, being able to interact with different people. Although he was sure they were tired of hearing of his Navy days.
"Mornin' Mister Gareth! The usual today?" Simon greeted the regular merrily, a jolly grin on his lips. "That'll be fine Mister Pearson. How's life treatin' you?" The customer inquired as Pearson began to load the wagon with goods and supplies.
"Can't complain Mister Pearson. Have you read the paper lately? Everyone's talkin' about it. You remember that famous Van Der Linde Gang that disbanded years ago? One of the members was killed at his own home. I think it said his name was Jake, no Jared, no John. John Martson that's it! John Marston!"
The voice of the customer seemed to fade away for a few moments as his heart sank. John was killed at that Ranch he bought years back? He remembered like it was yesterday when John had walked into his store, considering he'd thought he was dead. And now he actually was, written up in the newspaper and everything.
If only people knew his association with the Van Der Linde Gang. Perhaps they wouldn't be so kind.
Pearson swallowed thickly but maintained that cheerful smile as he waved off Mr. Gareth, even if on the inside he was saddened. John had been doing so well, so what were the circumstances that lead to his death? He guessed he'd never know.
Pearson walked back inside and behind the counter, his gaze falling to the photo of the gang as it often did. So many people in that photo had since died, so many good people who'd fallen to Dutch's charming words and reasons. From Jenny, to Sean, then to Hosea and Lenny. Then Arthur, he'd always provided in the darkest of times. His eyes finally landed on John, that skinny good for nothing boy who'd grown into a man and found himself a family.
John's cheek was still unmarked, this photo was taken before Blackwater and he remembered this day as if it were yesterday. They'd come across a camera on a tripod and asked a local to snap the shot, parading as a group of travelling companions. Although he guessed they had been of sorts, if you put aside the despicable deeds they carried out just to get by.
Pearson did rather miss the good times but knew the life he now lead was far better. He wasn't alone, nor did he feel empty on the inside as he lived his life in denial. He was content for the first time in his life and that was good enough for him.
Martha called from the back, announcing the arrival of a delivery wagon. Mr. Pearson smiled gratefully at the photograph one more time, silently saying goodbye to an old friend.
AN: To me throughout the game, Pearson seemed to look up to and appreciate the small family they had as a gang, even though he didn't participate in heists or robbery's.
But with his jolly and cheerful personality he seemed to bring morale up with his talent in cooking and his attitude.
Trelawny is coming soon!
Thank you all for reading!
