Moonstone Cowboy
Rated: M to M+ depending on the chapter. It's not too bad really, but better safe than sorry.
Disclaimer: The Mighty Boosh and all related characters of course belong to Noel and Julian, Dave and Rich and Mike. We love them and we hope they don't mind us messing with them in some very peculiar ways. No money is being made from this effort.
Moonstone Cowboy
Day 3 Part 2
Vince's eyes flicker open slowly. He rolls onto his back and stretches his arms and spine out, flexing his toes and fingers. There is something utterly satisfying about a morning stretch, even more so when it is the morning after a very enjoyable night before.
Vince cocks his head upwards from the pillow and listens. He can't see past the drapes into the rest of the jailhouse, but the hollow silence of the place tells him that Howard isn't home. He can sense it.
Ruffling his fingers through his hair he sits up, looking around for his discarded trousers. He smiles to himself as the memory of Howard easing them off comes back to him, and he finds them on the floor at the end of the bed. Putting them on he makes his way barefooted and barechested through to the main area of the jailhouse. He sees a screwed up blanket on the couch and realises that Howard must have slept out here. Vince feels a little guilty for having kicked the sheriff out of his own bed, especially as he himself had slept so well. Of course Vince wouldn't have minded if Howard had stayed with him all night, but he knew, realistically, that was too much too soon for the both of them.
Now though Vince starts to feel a concern. Something in his gut is niggling at him. He can't quite place it. Something just seems a bit off.
He puts a pot of water on the boil, knowing a good wash will wake him up fully. As it heats he returns to the bedroom area to pick out some new clothes for the day. He smiles again as he remembers why he didn't get to pick them out the evening before.
Vince rifles through Monty's chest and finds a pair of slacks and a striped shirt that he assumes must have been part of a pirate costume at one time. He gathers a few more bits and makes his way back to the stove for that wash.
He dresses slowly, his eyes always on the door to the jailhouse. His stomach rumbles. Maybe Howard's gone out for food he thinks to himself. Still, he's been gone a fair while. He looks around the place for a clue, a sign, anything that could suggest where Howard might be. There's nothing obvious.
He sits down at the table and cuts himself a hunk of bread, chewing and swallowing it in a very deliberate fashion. Still he can't pull his gaze away from the door. Something is gnawing inside of him, like that tummy churning you get when you've forgotten an important detail, or when you suddenly remember you should be somewhere else.
Vince frowns and lightly chews at the nail on his thumb. Is he being paranoid? Howard probably just needed to go for a walk. Or maybe he is doing his rounds as sheriff. Lawman duties and the like. Maybe someone required his help, and he was out there now rounding up hens or fixing some child's rocking horse.
Yet inside Vince the apprehensiveness refuses to back down. It's hot and it's slightly nauseating. It's sticky and heavy, like a yearning, a pull, a craving. It's definitely there alright. Vince sucks on his upper lip. He looks back at the door. No it isn't a craving, and it's more than apprehension. It is darker and deeper than that. It is a portent. A foreboding. He knows it in his bones, in the recesses of his mind, in his soul. He frowns again and roughly scrunches his hair. He strokes his upper arm. He chews at the inside of his mouth. He pushes his hands outwards across the table top, as wide as he can, and drums his fingers on the wooden surface. Five minutes pass. Ten. He sits there, fiddling with a splinter sticking out from the underside of the table. He pulls it free and flicks it across the room. Then his hand is back into his hair, pulling a strand straight and twirling it round and around and around his finger like a child. He fidgets in his chair, he finger drums, he strokes his arm, back to the finger drumming. Fifteen minutes. He gets up. He sits back down. He cuts more bread and pokes holes in it with his forefinger. He tears some off and rolls it between his palms making a small doughy ball. He pushes it back and forth across the table quicker and quicker until he misjudges and it goes flying off the end. He chews at his lip again. Twenty minutes.
Suddenly Vince stands, charges into the bedroom, grabs his hat and the first poncho he sees, and then all but runs out of the jailhouse, slamming the door behind him.
Vince jumps down the steps outside the jailhouse and starts to run to the main street. There's far more people out and about than there had been yesterday and he suddenly realises that many eyes are on him. He slows to a walk and then stops altogether near a goods store, looking around him unsure of which direction to take. He thinks maybe he should ask around, see if anyone has spoken to the sheriff that morning. He starts to enter the store just as three young women exit. They stare at him in amazement before the one with flaming red hair flutters her eyelashes and playful says "hello there handsome". Vince responds with a tip of his hat, a huge smile and a greeting of "good morning ladies", which sends the three of them into a sort of giggling meltdown. They scurry away, heads pressed together, whispering and throwing cautious kittenish glances in Vince's direction. He winks at them cheekily, causing another round of manic giggling, before he takes the steps up into the store.
The elderly fellow behind the counter gawps at Vince as he enters, making the young cowboy feel a bit uncomfortable.
"Hey there. I was just wondering if you'd happened across Sheriff Moon this morning?"
The store owner doesn't say anything. He just stares at Vince and slowly shakes his head from side to side.
"OK then", says Vince bemused. "Thanks for your help, I think."
He retreats out the shop and stands again in the street. Across on the other side a group has gathered in front of what looks to be a dressmakers. They are all watching him.
Vince takes a deep breathe and strolls over to the group.
"Hi", he says as cheerily as possible, "I'm Vince. Vince Noir. I'm new in town and I was wondering if any of you had seen the sheriff this morning?"
The group, which consists of two men and two women, all gape at him until eventually one of the women steps forward.
"Excuse our manners , it's just we're a little unaccustomed to seeing new faces around these parts. My name's Eleanor Hopkins and this is my husband Lucien."
Lucien shakes Vince's hand.
"Pleasure to meet you sir."
Eleanor continues,
"And this is Neville Bamshoot, our town's wonderful physician. He's simply a marvel."
"Welcome ."
"And this is Miss Susan Glister, owner of this store."
Eleanor gently pushes the other woman forward towards Vince, but Miss Glister drops her head in modesty and squeaks a barely audible 'hello'.
Vince grins again at the group.
"I'm truly honoured to meet you all. Thank you."
Eleanor puts her arm around Susan's shoulders.
"Don't mind our Suse here, she's terribly shy. Now what the devil are you doing in Moonstone ? Looking for Howard Moon did you say?"
"Yes. I just arrived the other day. I'm a Deputy Sheriff in training, except I seem to have lost my teacher."
"Deputy Sheriff?", Lucien stammers. "Well I'll be damned."
"Why that's wonderful news", adds Eleanor, "Simply wonderful. It will be great for Moonstone to have two lawmen again, what after poor Tommy and all those rumours…"
Eleanor's voice trails off as Lucien nudges her in the arm as a warning.
Vince looks at her quizzically but doesn't ask her to elaborate. Instead he repeats his question regarding Howard's whereabouts. Neville replies,
"Apologies but I can't say as I have."
The rest of the group shake their heads.
"Have you tried the cemetery?"
From behind Vince the booming and now instantly recognisable voice of Dixon Bainbridge makes the whole group collectively jump. Vince spins on his heels to face the mayor as Eleanor and company automatically huddle just a smidgen closer together.
Vince is determined to hold his nerve.
"Mayor Bainbridge, good morning Sir. No I haven't tried the cemetery. Have you seen Sheriff Moon there today?"
"No, but it's just the sort of place you'll be likely to find a snivelling wretch like Moon. Moping about, crying for his ex-girlfriend Tommy the Jerk-Off."
Vince feels a hot rush of anger rise inside of him. 'This guy really is a dick' he thinks. He tries to control his voice, remembering before he speaks that he's meant to be playing a bit of a half-wit.
"Sheriff Moon wouldn't cry Mayor Bainbridge, Sir. Sheriff Moon's a hero."
Vince can't help feeling embarrassed in front of the others for putting on his 'dopey' act. Still, Howard had made him promise to play it safe, and this was his best shot at being allowed to remain in Moonstone.
Bainbridge glares at Vince with a frightening ferocity. He raises the corner of his upper lip in an almost evil smirk.
"Howard Moon is the most deplorable, puny, repulsive, second-rate joke of a sheriff I've ever had the misfortune to come across. The sooner you get that into your thick skull laddie the better."
Vince can't help himself and he makes to take a step forward, finger raised in a point. Eleanor quickly reaches out and puts a steadying hand on his shoulder.
"Easy cowboy!"
Vince drops his hand but glares back at Bainbridge with a steely-blue determination.
"You eye-fucking me pretty boy?"
Bainbridge takes two large strides towards Vince, closing the gap to less than a foot. He leans right into Vince forcing the young man to lean back slightly.
"You try and eye-fuck me again pretty boy and you'll be wearing your face on the other side of your head."
Bainbridge lifts his right hand and balls it into a tight fist. Vince closes his eyes and waits but nothing happens. After a few seconds he risks opening one eye, but Bainbridge is already walking away from him laughing. Vince lets out the breathe he didn't realise he'd been holding.
The group still standing behind him visibly relaxes too. Vince turns back to face them. He smiles weakly.
"Can any of you tell me where the cemetery is please?"
Eleanor returns the smile and puts her hand reassuringly on Vince's arm.
"Sure pet. It's just on the edge of town at the top of the hill. Just keep going to the end of the main street and there's a trail up to it."
Vince murmurs his thanks and a hasty goodbye.
"Great!" he says quietly to himself, "Now all the town's going to think I'm a simpleton and a pushover."
He puts his head down and quickens his pace towards the graveyard.