Fear Itself

I jumped. Probably for the tenth time today. But truth be told, I wasn't counting. For all I know it's been twelve. No, really, I wasn't counting.

My head shot over my shoulder at the sound that had sent my feet off the ground and like all the other times, a slow trickle of air went through my lips. Just Jonesy. Banging the washbasin against the wall. I've heard that a thousand times before. And no, not counting that out either. Just a roundabout guess that's how many times I've heard that same clank that never made me flinch before now. I might not be experienced like Jess, but I'd like to think that I'm not a lily. But something's sure happened to me. Otherwise I wouldn't...

Jump.

There I went again.

My head turned the other direction and with the sigh that came without thinking, I lowered my head. Just that finicky horse that came off the noon stage that time. That might not be as high up as the washbasin getting a good wallop against the house's exterior, but I've witnessed such a sight before to not make my belly go to aching. And it sure is in a grip. It's got enough gurgles that I haven't eaten all day.

Oh, I pretended that I put away the three flapjacks on my breakfast plate, but when Jonesy got up for a second round of coffee and Sam was pawing at my boot, I lowered each one through my legs to the raccoon. Unless Jonesy caught the sound of him smacking his lips under the table, which the masked bandit surely knows not to do, my empty stomach went unknown that morning.

Lunch was a little trickier. Sam wasn't in the house. After Jonesy caught him snoozing by the fireplace he shooed him through the kitchen door with his broom. It isn't that Jonesy doesn't like animals. He just claims that they don't like him. I don't think that's the full truth, as Jonesy's got enough softness in him to compete with a big bowl of bread dough and every living thing knows it, but I understand not wanting a lazy-boned critter lounging around when there was work to be done. Yet without a willing mouth underneath me, losing the ham and beans on my plate didn't come without some slick scheming.

If you take one napkin, lay it flat in your lap and then while you're fake chewing, wipe your spoon clean you can get rid of just about anything. But there was one loss. I couldn't let Jonesy discover the cloth stuffed with what should've been in my belly. When the conversation around the table switched to the afternoon chores, and exactly what was assigned to me, I tucked it inside my shirt and went outside. The very first chore completed was one of my own instructing when I pushed the food-filled napkin through the bars on Sam's cage. I sure love that little beast, and not just for keeping my secret.

But what exactly was I trying to hide? Sure, my queasy insides that I didn't want to get upended by eating, but it was more than that. It was what was behind the ache. Or maybe, it was what was actually behind me. Aren't I always looking at what might be there? At that moment I had reason to turn at another sound. The door going shut this time, but it didn't set off a flinch other than the fact I didn't want to be caught outside Sam's enclosure when I was supposed to be someplace else.

I dodged around the corner, my feet in a quick aim for the rear door of the barn and as I slipped inside the shuffle of my foot made the first swipe to clean the hay chaff on the floor. The rest would have to come with a broom, and the pitchfork for the thicker areas. I started with this, as it would serve dual purposes. Scooping and cleaning.

"Say Andy?"

Man, I jump at the sound of my own brother's voice too? "Yeah, Slim?"

"Come here a minute."

Uh-oh. He knows. I swallowed the thick feeling in my throat only for it to reform a moment later and then I set the pitchfork in its rightful place. My eyes were low as I turned, the first sight of Slim being his boots, but I couldn't leave that as my only view of him when I made the full approach to where he stood just inside of the door. I'd long since failed at putting on Jess' poker face, but I tried it again as I lifted my gaze and if there was an unsuccessful twitch around my mouth it was because Slim's eyes were sparking. And not with anger.

"How would you like to ride into town for me?"

My finger pushed into my chest. "Me?"

"Sure. Jess and I've got to get that south section secured before any more strays run loose and with Jonesy's back acting up like it is I don't think he should go. You can do it."

"Gosh Slim. Of course I'll do it."

I've ridden to town before on horseback, obviously, but only once by myself and that was in an emergency. Since no life was hanging by the line, it felt sort of like an honor to be given the go ahead by Slim that I could take this journey alone.

For the first time in, well, I'm not sure when, but I could finally push aside my nerves and let them tingle with something more enjoyable for a change. I returned the slap that Slim gave my arm and then ran for my horse's stall. He's a gentle animal, as are all that Slim and Jess raise, but the one that's got more of my name on it than anyone else's is even more on the calmer side of quiet than the others. Yet when I excitedly gave a whoop along his side, he gave me a stern look and I got the message. Don't go to hollering again while astride his back.

I was to go to the store and get a box of four-inch nails and fence staples. Plus whatever piece of candy that I'd want with the extra penny Slim slipped me. Probably licorice. No. Horehound. Or there is that brown molasses stuff that crackles as it melts on my tongue... Well, I'll decide when I get there. It might not be much of a mission if you do that sort of thing day after day, but for me it was right up there with staying the night in the hotel. Not quite as fun as tagging along with Jess to watch his gun put on a show, but it had its own brand of excitement and I suppose I carried the bubble the entire twelve mile stretch.

If you talk to Sheriff Cory, then you'll know that Laramie isn't a tame town. Oh, he keeps it in order all right, but there's been more than enough times that I've heard talk about some scuffle going on. Some of it including Slim and Jess, but I always thought it wise if I didn't let them know how much I've learnt about those two. This was the reason why I slowed my mount to a quiet walk as I reached the backend of the blacksmith's. I guess I wanted to peek around the corner first, make sure I wasn't about to ride into one of them fist-on-fist brawls, or worse, gun-on-gun ones. I had no reason to stop, though. It was quiet.

I doubt I'd ever reach Slim's height as I favor ma's side of the family, but I sure felt big walking into that store alone! I knew what I was supposed to get as I'd written it all over my brain before leaving home, but I gave all of the shelves a thorough look-over anyway. When Miss Marcie asked me if I needed any help I proudly shook my head, but I knew also that it was time to stop idling. I made my purchases, finally settled on the licorice whip and then went back into the open air. Since the one task on my list was checked off, there was nothing left to do but go home.

I dropped the nails and staples in my saddlebag and stuck the licorice between my teeth, my hop up needing an extra bounce to get off of the ground. I guess I'll have to watch Jess closer the next time he does it. Much more effortlessly than I just did. Giving my horse a nudge I pointed his nose toward home, and under the rim of my hat, my eyes followed the edges of the road, looking for any familiar face I could wave to. There weren't many, but all it would take was one, and there was, just now coming out of the bakery. Nancy Evans with her pa. She's a year older than me and probably wouldn't notice if I raised my hand to my hat, but as I got closer I made the snap decision and by the feeling in my face, my cheeks must've turned bright red. She noticed, giving her own fingers a small wiggle as I passed.

I guess with my stomach that finally realized it was over-the-top with hunger doing battle with whatever that flutter was in my chest, I didn't pay attention to the other side of town when a bunch of hooves came clattering on the road. The shadow of the blacksmith was upon me when someone whooped, and my horse gave me a gentle snort, reminding me to behave myself. But any thrill inside of me that could've produced that kind of shout was about to be gone. A shot!

My mouth parted with reaction, but no sound came out, yet my mount must've noticed the change. His body jerked as I told him to run and I rocked in the saddle, but I was glued in tight enough that I wasn't going to fall. If only what was behind me would've stopped at one then the pell-mell race wouldn't be necessary. There was another shot. And then as I hear enough grownups say that I feel able to say it myself when no one's around to scold me, all tarnation broke loose. Way too many shots.

Panic seizing me, I stopped just outside of Laramie, my lungs heaving just about as much as my horse's. I lowered to the ground, my instincts to hide so strong I couldn't even remember looking for a place of security, only the way my body hit the ground behind the closest object. Granted it was a large boulder that would do well to hide me, but I covered my head with my arms like the gunmen back in town had eyes that could see right through it.

It took longer than a minute to realize that the firing had stopped and that the only echo I was hearing was the ringing inside of my head. Lying in the same position as how I'd dropped, I was shivering like I was caught in a snowstorm, yet the summer heat was blazing on my back. My skin had its own kind of reaction and I felt the ooze of the liquid seep out of various places. My forehead and underarms reacted the worst, but I think my palms were so slick I wouldn't have been able to grip a thing.

Well, at least now I finally know what's wrong with me.

I'm afraid. Scared of the shooting, I mean. Not in town just now, but from the week before. All those bullets flying every which way, bouncing off the ground, landing in the walls, and going into all those men. Every one of them died. Right in front of me. What with them being horse thieves, killers alike, they weren't any good. I know that. Especially Jack Slade. I've got to say it again. Especially Jack Slade. Slim wouldn't like to hear me say it, but I hated that man. He came to the ranch all high and mighty, somber-like and mean, but more than anything he threw his superiority around, wanting Jess to leave. I'm just a kid who's never done more than practice balling a fist, but part of me wanted to handle him myself when he spewed his threats. But something changed inside of me when I watched him die. I watched the lot of them die. Even young Johnny, who Jonesy said was just a few years older than me.

And I can't stop jumping at every sound that reminds me of that day.

My breaths were just starting to return to normalcy, but then it hitched again when I heard a single rider riding quietly away from Laramie on a different path than what I'd shrieked out on. He was riding easy, I repeated in my head. That told me that whatever happened in Laramie wasn't high enough on the gossip list to rush it to the next unknowing ear. Everything must've been fine. With the threat of danger gone, I got up from the ground, wiped my hands on the seat of my pants and then went home.

"How was it?"

Naturally Slim would greet me before I disconnected from leather. I didn't even bother to smile as I slid out of the saddle and landed at his feet. "It was all right."

Slim's arms went into a fold across his chest and his brows knit together. "Something happen?"

"No," I quickly lied, but as my tongue slid across my upper lip I figured I'd better follow up with a truth. "Saw Nancy Evans."

He saw my blush and was satisfied. Or at least I thought he was satisfied. I did reluctantly eat supper, although I had to make a trip to the outhouse soon after. It was in my return trip as I went past the barn door left ajar that I heard my name and I bristled. Just by the tone I think I was being found out.

"Something wrong with Andy?"

It was Jess that said it. I could see Slim's back, his shoulders mostly as they flexed with the action of putting fresh straw in the stalls, but Jess' face was hidden from me. I wished it hadn't. I couldn't begin to read Jess' thoughts. I'm not sure any of us can yet, but I would've liked to know what kind of expression he was wearing. Was he asking out of concern, or was I getting under his skin? I did pester him a bit when I questioned why he was changing his shirt before we gathered around the table. Usually he didn't care if there was an extra hole in his elbow. Unless it was caused by a bullet. I didn't see any blood on him, but my fear made me babble and Jess did snap a little when he said he was fine.

"I'm not sure, Jess, but something seems to be off with him. I thought he'd have a hundred things to say about getting to go to Laramie by himself."

"You think something happened in town other than seeing Nancy Evans?"

"Andy knows not to tell a lie."

"Sure. But that doesn't mean he ain't got something to withhold."

Man, how'd Jess know which nail to hit? It was strange, but I felt a little relief knowing that Jess was on to me.

"I don't know, Jess. Seems like he's been acting different since before his trip to town and he hasn't been eating right. That's one of the reasons why I told him to go in the first place. I thought it would perk him up. It did, but not for long."

So Slim had noticed. There was a little smile embedded into my cheek as I felt the warmth of brotherly love and that feeling made me want to tell them both that I could hear them, but I didn't. Because if they discovered my eavesdropping, then I'd have to spill that Jess was right. All I wanted to do was get in bed and pull my blankets over my head. But I couldn't go, not just yet.

"You gonna talk to him?"

I heard Slim sigh, long and thoughtful. "I think I'll give him another day. Let him come to me."

So I have one more day. What I'd expect once another sunset was complete I don't know, and I wouldn't get to find out, because I didn't make it that far. I was going to be exposed before the sun reached the noon hour.

I stepped out of the house, their laughter like a rope around my waist getting a hearty tug and I wore a grin as I approached Slim and Jess. Bantering, most like, even though I missed out on what was said, their side-shaking was contagious and I giggled. Boy it felt good to laugh. Slim reached out to tousle my hair and quick as a whip, Jess gave my shoulder a pat.

"You know what your brother can't do?" Jess asked and I saw the playful wink. I was about to be let "in" onto their tease.

"What?"

"He can't even swat a fly with that big hand of his."

"Oh, come on, Jess." Slim rolled his eyes. "It was buzzing you just as much as me and you couldn't nab it."

"Well, it ought to've been dancing around that horse patty over there, not Slim's head. But when he tried to catch it..."

"It has wings, Jess. Fast and Furious."

"But you see, Andy," Jess said, and my eyes were so fixed on his squirrely sparkle that I missed his hand going for his gun. "This is how you really take care of a pesky fly."

He spun, and I don't know if there really was a fly in his aim, but Jess started unloading his gun in the air.

The sound, not the actual bullets, exploded in my chest and I thought I was going to keep it all contained inside of me, but my tongue burst out with a scream. "Jess stop! Stop!"

He lowered his gun, his face a mixture of shock and alarm as he looked at my pasty cheeks. "What is it Andy?"

"It's..." How can I say it? The smoke was coming out of the barrel, the scent of it repulsing my nostrils as well as my already over-groaning belly. "It's your gun, Jess."

The drop inside of his holster was just as fast as it had come out. "My gun?"

"Well, not just yours. Any gun. Or at least, the sound of it. I'm... I'm afraid of it."

For a moment I'd forgotten he was there until Slim said my name. "Andy."

I ran. I have no reason to explain why, maybe just the fact that my secret was wide open in front of my brother and the man I titled as friend and hero, but my feet started pounding the ground. I had no aim, up and over a hill I went and down into a gully until I was stopped by a stream, still a bit too deep to wade across at its center, yet I needed to feel it. I chucked my boots and socks behind me and stepped into the water, the chill making the attempt to replace what was running up and down my spine.

It couldn't be done. The water made my knees knock into each other but the swells of fear and humiliation were too strong. I knew that second part was about to go up another notch, because Slim wasn't about to let me race off like that without a talk. He'd be coming all right. But I got a little surprise.

The man walking in my steps, pausing to lean against the trunk of a tree was Jess.

I looked at him over my shoulder. "I thought you'd be Slim."

"He woulda. But I told him I wanted to have the first crack at it. On account that I reckon I understand."

My hands were working themselves into a knot. "You do?"

"It's about what happened with Jack Slade, huh?"

The knot unfolded as my palms went down to my sides. "Yeah."

Leaving his tree, Jess walked closer to the creek's bank, his eyes the softest I'd ever seen. "You wanna talk about it?"

A couple days ago I would've said no, but I sure did now. "Jess, I've seen all kinds of shooting long before Jack Slade rode onto the ranch that didn't make me twitch, so why is this different?"

"This is the first time you were part of it. You know, you kinda came close to taking a stray bullet yourself."

I rubbed my goose-pimpled arms. "I still feel the wind of some of them."

"I bet."

"It's not just that."

Jess nodded. He knew there was more. "Kinda hard to see all those men dying like that."

He hit that nail square again. And I was glad I was on the pounding end. "Yeah."

"I've seen a lotta men die, Andy. Did you know the first was my pa?"

I nodded. Of course I knew the story, or at least in part, as the whole was reserved for ears much older than mine. But I knew enough to feel the stir of emotion in my being that always reached out toward Jess when he reminisced with his darkest past. I think anybody with even a trace of tender feelings would soften with compassion in knowing what Jess went through when he was just three years older than me. I felt it so deep in my veins that I always wanted to run up to him and hug him tight. That wasn't the way men shared things though, so I always kept my arms to my sides and this time was no different. Well, I did step out of the stream so I could be closer to him and Jess must've saw that as an invite, as he put his hand on my shoulder.

"Andy, I still carry that with me. Seeing him and the others die, I mean. I was angry for a long time. Dad-gum. Maybe in a way I still am. You know what else I was? I was afraid."

My eyes stretched open with awe. "I didn't think you could ever be afraid."

"Of course I've been, Andy. My skin and blood ain't much different than yours. Just seen more years than you is all, but back then, it was like a hot poker forever sticking in my hide. I hear a lotta people say that fear ain't nothing. They're liars. Fear's real. And what's more, it's okay to feel it."

"But I don't just feel it, Jess." I couldn't quite find the description, so I borrowed Jess'. "It's like a hot poker forever sticking in my hide."

"It'll come out sure enough."

Man, I wanted it out badly. Right now. "How?"

"I'm sorry I don't have some glowing promise to give you that it'll be gone tomorrow or the next as it's gotta run its course, but one thing I know, it ain't got power to live on unless you feed it."

I lowered my eyes, my head in a shake. "But I'm not the one shooting."

Jess chuckled slightly, but I didn't take offense. I actually felt warmed as the grip on my shoulder turned to a rub as he pulled me a little closer. "You want me to hang up my iron?"

"Oh no, Jess." My eyes snapped back up to meet his. "It's as much a part of you as the hand that draws it. Besides, you might need it."

"That's right. You never know when there's reason for it to come out. You trust me with it, don't you?"

I'd been proud of Jess' ability with his gun since I first learned how well he could use it and some of that pride echoed in my voice. "I sure do."

"Good, because it ain't the gun that's behind every shooting. It's the person holding the iron that you gotta be thinking about. But that don't mean you gotta shift your fear to them. Sure, there's gonna be killers out there like Ben Leach and Jack Slade, but they're the ones that really need to be afraid. They know their lives ain't gonna last long while there's men like Slim, myself and what I reckon who you're gonna turn out to be ready to put them in their proper place. And because of the kinda men we are, living for fighting, you're likely to see a lot more men die, Andy, but don't let that scare you either. Dying comes to us all sooner or later, but remember, a killer's bullet always comes back to strike him. That's why they gotta fall so brutally sometimes. Teaches the rest of us to stay on the straight-and-narrow too, especially when we got someone special to live for."

Somewhere, someone must have lit a lamp, for I felt its beacon. "You're right, Jess."

"I reckon I am, sometime or another."

I pushed a mouthful of air through my lips and I could feel the fear leaving along with the sigh. It was almost over. Just one more thing. Humiliation's side of things. "I'm sorry, Jess."

"You did nothing wrong, Andy. I admire you for being man enough to show your feelings. Considering my gun-slinging past, you still admire me?"

My mouth darted up into a smile. "Always."

Jess' hand went up to my head and with a short trail downward, lingered just above my neck. "You gonna be okay?"

"I think so." I knew it wasn't the same thing as a life saving situation, yet I felt my life being renewed and its light started to shine in my eyes. "Thanks Jess."

"Anytime, Partner. Oh, and Andy. This here was just part one. You're gonna have to bare your heart to your brother too."

"I know."

And I did. That night I told him everything. His message was a little different than Jess', as Slim didn't have the same experiences that Jess carried from his youth, but when he pulled me into a hug, the hot poker clanked to the ground for good.

With the help of Slim and Jess, I'd been released from fear's awful clutch. Would I see it again? Well, living in roughneck territory with those same two men it was guaranteed, but I bet now I can get a better handle on it because there was something else beating alongside my heart even stronger. Love.

.:.

I know this was a little different than the other life saving stories, but after I received a message from one of my Guest reviewers about their anxiety, this story started to write itself. I suffer from anxiety sometimes so I understand what Guest goes through. Andy could have easily become stricken with fear after the showdown in "Company Man" and I felt that the only one that could have saved him from it was Jess. If you have a red hot poker forever sticking in your hide, know that you're not alone, and there's always someone, perhaps even Jess, that will help pull it out for good. CW