Chapter 18: Firestorm, Part 2

Normally, Willie would hold his breath while walking through his home after spending time at the saloon, taking every step as if the floors were cracking glass. But not this night. After watching Albert break down following the rigged poker game, Willie decided that he could no longer keep this secret. Mr. Edwards was right in that they let things go way too far with the trips to the Silver Coin. Now, he felt like he needed to own up to it.

Willie stood in front of his parents bedroom, forcing his fist up to knock on the door as a small part of himself urged him to abandon this decision and run back.

There were rustling sounds coming from behind the door, until Nels finally came out. "Willie? Is everything alright?"

"I need to talk to you and ma." Willie kept his eyes down and head hanging low.

"It's the middle of the night. Can't it wait 'til morning?"

"No...it can't."

"Alright." Nels stepped aside to let his son in the room, then he walked over to the bed to wake his wife. "Harriet, wake up. Willie says he needs to talk to us."

"What is it?" Harriet asked as she sat up in her nightgown and cream face paint under her eyes to conceal her wrinkles. "Is something the matter? Willie?"

"I have to tell you both something. I've been..." Willie paused, trying to find the right words to explain what had been going on, but knowing full well that it did not really matter in the end. This confession had been a long time coming and there was no way he could sweet-talk into making it any better. "I've been keeping a secret from the two of you. I know that what I did was wrong. I...I've been going to the Silver Coin."

"What?" Harriet stood up in shock.

"It all started a couple of months ago. Me and some of the other boys from school decided to sneak out at night and go to the saloon. It was only supposed to be a one time thing, but I've been going there ever since."

Both Harriet and Nels stared at their son in disbelief. Neither of them had any idea what Willie had been up to, making his confession a total unwelcomed surprise. "Willie...how could you? We told you to stay away from that place!"

Willie gritted his teeth. After all of the trouble he had gotten into in his short lifetime, this felt like the absolute worst. "I know you did, ma and I'm sorry I went against you. I just...I wanted to know what it was really like in there, but things started getting out of control."

"What'd you mean?" Nels stepped up in front of his son. "What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into, Willie?"

"It wasn't really me getting into trouble." He rushed to say, as if that would help the situation. "I mean...I never went to the saloon alone. I was always with one of my friends and...one of them recently got himself into trouble, losing a lot of money gambling. I guess I let it all happen, letting things go too far. You have every right to be upset with me."

"Upset is putting it lightly!" Harriet finally screamed. "How could you deliberately do something like this? Out of all the trouble you've gotten yourself into, this is the worst! I'm so disappointed in you, Willie."

"I know, ma." Willie's head fell back down.

"We'll talk more about this in the morning." Nels said. "Try to get some sleep, after you think about what you've done."


Jonathan was sitting out on the porch in front of his home by himself. He had woken up in the middle of the night, sensing that something was off. Lo and behold, Andrew had snuck out again. After everything that had happened, Jonathan was astonished that Andrew would continue to go against him like this. He never could have imagined that his son, who always did everything to make him proud, would get himself into this much trouble.

Through the darkness of the night, Jonathan began to see a figure approaching the homestead and stood up when he finally saw that it was his son. "Where the hell were you?"

Andrew stopped at the bottom of the steps leading up to the house. "At the saloon."

"Damn it, Andrew!" Jonathan walked down and grabbed the boy's shoulders. "What in the world were you thinking? How could you do this, after we told you never to go near that place again?"

"I needed to be there for my friend." Andrew stated bluntly, remembering there was also another reason.

"Your friend?"

Andrew lowered his head, finally ready to tell his pa the rest of what went on at the Silver Coin. "When I went there before, Albert and Willie would go with me. It was the three of us that all started going together. They wanted me there tonight...Albert was playing in this big poker game and he wanted me there."

Jonathan huffed. "You really think I would buy that as an excuse?"

Andrew stepped back and forced his father's hands off of his shoulders. It was then he took the gun out from his jacket and placed it onto the ground in between the two of them. "I'm sorry, pa. I didn't mean for things to turn out like this. You have every right to be ashamed of me."

More confused and growing even more angry, Jonathan did not even know Andrew knew about the revolver he kept hidden in his bedroom. "Why do you have that?"

"Albert wanted me to have it on me if something went wrong with his game. He lost a lot of money."

It took all the willpower Jonathan had not to completely lash out at his son. Instead, he forced out a sigh and bent down to pick up the gun. "Get inside."

Andrew did not even try to say anything else. The boy simply walked inside and retreated to his room, leaving the door open behind him.


Charles' sights were locked on the Silver Coin.

It looked like all the people inside were having a real nice time, drinking and smoking and gambling and talking nonsense. Maybe on some level deep down, Charles envied the freedom those people seemed to have. However, tonight he was going to take back his town from the likes of them at whatever the cost. Charles trudged his feet up the front steps of the saloon, barely able to push his way inside the building with how packed it was. With each drunk that slammed into him, spilling their beers, stepping on his toes and blowing smoke in his face, Charles became more and more infuriated.

He had never been so angry in his entire life.

From the bar top, Pierce instantly recognized Charles as Albert's father. He knew in his gut that this could only turn out bad, albeit for the farmer. Albert must have finally fessed up about gambling at the saloon and all the money he lost. The strained look on Charles' face proved it. Pierce tried not to make eye contact as the man approached his counter, instead looking over to the poker table where Mr. Brady had started up a new honest game with his city friends.

"Can I get something strong?" Charles grabbed the bartender's attention with a very unusual request for him.

Not bothering to question Ingalls, Pierced reached down below the bar and pulled out a bottle of whiskey that was familiar to his son and friends. As he poured the drink, there was an uncomfortable silence between them, even though hooligans around them were yelling at the top of their lungs. "There you are, sir."

Charles did not hesitate downing the liquor, trying to copy how he remembered Edwards drinking shots in a single go. Little did he know that Isaiah was racing into town, wanting to stop his friend before he did something that he might regret. Pierce could easily tell by the expression on Charles' face after he swallowed the drink that he was no Irishman. He supposed the farmer came with a barrage of harsh questions and accusations about his son's loss.

Ingalls then patted his pants pockets with his hands, pretending that he was looking for something he had misplaced. "Bartender, can I get a lite? I must have forgotten my matches at home."

Pierce was immediately suspicious at the next request. He was hesitant to give Charles a pack of matches, but another customer called out for his attention. "I'll have a lite, too."

The bartender was slow to take out a pack of matches and hand one over to the rando, earning himself a scowl. Then, he slid the whole pack over to Charles, noting his ability to reach for the gun he had stashed under the bar for tense standoffs like this. Charles began methodically taking out a single stick from the bunch. It was then Pierce realized the farmer was not taking out a pipe or cigar to lite with the match. In one quick move, Charles struck the match causing a small flame to be created and then dropped the stick into his empty shot glass, still lined with a thin layer of alcohol. A weak fire swirled around inside of the glass, not all that dangerous on its own.

That was until Charles picked up the glass and hurled it into the expansive wall of liquors behind the bar.

Bottle shattered as they fell onto the floor. The drunks in the saloon cheered out at what they thought was celebratory smashings, while Pierce abandoned his post. A fire was forming behind the bar, slowly creeping up and consuming the wooden structure, fueled by the dirt and alcohol that had been building up on the floor all those years. Over loud music and banter, no one heard the crackling sound of the flames.

Pierce ran for his boss, shoving customers out of his way. "Mr. Brady! Brady!"

The owner of the saloon looked up from his playing cards after barely hearing his name being called out. "What?"

The fire had begun to reach the signature red wallpaper. It would only be a matter of time before the flames were able to take hold of the many oil lamps littering the saloon. With all the wooden furnishings, decorations and other flammable materials inside, the Silver Coin was a plentiful feeding ground for a growing fire.

"Brady!" Pierce yelled out again after finally making it to the poker table.

"What is it, Pierce?" Brady huffed.

"There's been an accident."

"What kind of accident?"

"Fire!" Another patron screamed at the top of his lungs. "Fire! There's a fire behind the bar!"

Immediately, people began screaming nonsense and started pushing one another to find the exit, but the room was so packed, all they could do was step on each other's feet. Brady and his city friends stood up to see the flames spreading up the walls and joined the mob, except for Brady. He was not about to run out of his own place like a scared little kid. The man pushed his way through the crowd to get to the bar and into the back storage room where jugs of water were stored. He struggled to carry out the water and tried to get as close as he could to put out the flames. However, the water did not help the situation and it seemed as if the fire only grew larger.

"Of course this hick town doesn't have a fire marshal!"

"Mr. Brady!" Pierced joined back up with his boss. "We gotta get out! This whole place is filling with smoke fast!"

The owner hesitated, knowing that this would cost him dearly if the Silver Coin was severely damaged. He did not want to leave his establishment to burst into flames. "Damn it all!"

The two fled the building with the other drunk stragglers left inside. Everyone gathered around outside of the saloon, watching as the flames breached the upper floor. The tin ceiling of the main room reflected the flames so much that it seemed the fire was twice as large. A dark plume of smoke reached up into the night sky and ashes began to get caught in the wind. Brady's greatest fear, structural damage to his saloon, was confirmed when he saw a large beam fall and smash the front windows.

He was left distraught. All the money and effort Brady put into opening and successfully running his establishment just went up into flames. "How did this happen? What started this fire?"

"I know who it was, sir." Pierce stepped up as Brady stared at the Silver Coin.

The owner was knocked out of his trance when he heard his employee speak. "Who?"

"Ingalls."

"That kid?"

"No, his father."

Standing away from the crowd near the town post office, Charles watched with a strange feeling of satisfaction as the saloon burned. He had hated that building before he even knew what kind of a place it was. After years of the Silver Coin turn his beloved town into a gathering place for drunks and drifters, now Walnut Grove could return to how it once was as soon as the rest of the building burnt to the ground.

"Charles."

He looked beside him to see Edwards walking up through the darkness.

"What in God's name have you done?"

Charles' attention returned to the fire, the crowd now beginning to disperse. "I did what should have been done all those years ago, when Mr. Brady first set foot in Walnut Grove. His saloon ruined our town and brought us so much trouble. Well, now that's all over. Assuming Brady is smart enough not to rebuild."

Isaiah sighed. "Charles, you have no idea what you've just done. That saloon didn't just ruin the town or your son, it ruined you too."