A Good Name III
"I don't have to tell you nothin'," the idiot in the cell replied, leaning back on the cot and crossing his feet. It was a scrawny-looking outlaw - dirty and missing a few teeth.
"Well," JD said, gesturing over his work. "I gotta write somethin'."
"Not gonna say," the two-bit thief declared. "You cain't make me." He lifted his pointy little chin in defiance.
"Alright then," Dunne said as he dipped his pen into the ink and then brought it to paper. "I'll just have to fill it in with - Dumb Ass."
"What?" the fool replied sharply, watching the sheriff lift the pen to the paper. "No, no! That ain't right. You're supposed to write John Doe if you don't got a name."
"Dumb Ass," JD reiterated. "Seems more fitting to me."
"You cain't do that!" the man shouted and then added, "You're supposed to fill those out right, like a good officer of the law."
JD shrugged. "Don't feel so accommodatin' right now and you ain't givin' me anything to go by. Dumb Ass seems good to me."
"My name is Head. Richard Head!"
"Dick Head," JD figured.
"NO!" Dick jumped to his feet and ran to the cell door. His hands grasped the bars tightly. "It ain't Dick! My name ain't never been Dick. It's Richard! Or Rich…sometimes Rick. And when I was a kid they called me Ricky, but never Dick."
"Dick Head," JD said again, writing. "Too bad you weren't in the army. You might have come out of that as Major Dick Head."
Head's face grew red. "Don't you start with that!" He waggled his finger at Dunne. "I could'a been an officer 'cept that I didn't have the money to buy the position."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Dunne muttered as he continued to fill in the document. He yawned as the outlaw fumed.
"Might 'ave stood a chance in the army," Dick Head said, pacing, "'cept they couldn't stop mocking me for my name. I had to show 'em not to make fun of me. They threw me in the stockade."
"Doesn't surprise me," JD said with a shake of his head.
'They didn't know who they were dealing with!" Head said, striking his chest.
Yeah, JD thought, another dick-head.
Dunne was just glad that there hadn't been too many of his ilk hanging around the town lately. The atmosphere had been remarkably quiet. He'd been anxious since Vin and the others left, worried about what sort of trouble would hit the town with it so poorly protected, but it was as if Strife had taken a holiday and a calm had descended. The worst he had to deal with was petty thieves such as this one with the ridiculous name.
He wished Chris, Buck, Josiah and everyone would come back soon, but their journey was only halfway over - three weeks into their absence and they had just made it to Tascosa to clear Vin's name. Well, some of them had made it that far. Buck and Ezra had been left along the way.
He rubbed his neck as he filled out the form - describing the things that Dick Head tried to steal from the general store and how he'd shoved it all down his pants in the getaway. He'd be tried for theft and probably would end up paying a fine or spend a day or two behind bars. All in a day's work.
As he wrote, JD recalled the day, three weeks ago, when five of his friends left town. It was sad to watch them ride away. Part of him wanted to go with them, but he had an important job to do here; he was Sheriff and had to protect the town. He didn't regret his choice. He could only wish them a safe journey and hope they returned soon.
Well, things didn't work out so well for those travelers. He and Nathan had been in contact with the others via telegram and had heard of Vin's progress toward Tascosa with Chris and Josiah, and Ezra's lack of progress in Digby with Buck.
Dunne wished he'd had some inkling about what was going to happen back when all this started. He wished somehow that he'd known Ezra was going to get hurt. He would have been able to stop that from happening by keeping the cardsharp in town. It could have been easily accomplished by simply asking Ezra to stay.
JD could replay the conversation they'd had, when Ezra came to him with a serious face, asking him if he could go with the others - as if JD Dunne had any control over the actions of one Ezra P. Standish. Still, the sheriff had heard the sincerity in the gambler's voice as he asked, as they had talked together and came to the decision that Ezra could go. They'd come up with a list of possible candidates for short-term assistants, lining them up to fill in the gap. JD remembered Ezra smiling sincerely when they realized he could accompany Vin and the others without leaving JD or the town in the lurch.
Ezra would have stayed, JD knew. All he'd had to do was voice the slightest doubt, the smallest concern and the gambler would have remained in Four Corners. He would have nodded and complied and said nothing to anyone about it. He probably would have sat back on the boardwalk as the others prepared to go and given them a few words of encouragement. He could just as easily have taunted them for their rough road ahead - reminded them that he'd be comfortable in feather bed while they lounged on hard rocks, he'd be eating hot meals adequately prepared at a decent restaurant while they subsisted on jerky and tack. You could never tell for sure how Ezra would have acted.
Of course, it was all conjecture now. Right now, Standish wasn't saying anything that made sense, lying in a bed with his brains bashed in.
JD shook his head, not wanting to linger on that image.
And what about Vin's trial? What would happen if the verdict was returned as 'guilty'? Vin had been assured that the witness could clear him - but what if something went wrong. Then Vin Tanner would hang. JD felt his neck at the thought. How could they hang an innocent man? Someone like Vin certainly didn't deserve that!
Why had Vin risked his life anyway? He was safe here in Four Corners. If he'd just stayed put, there'd be no cause for alarm - no reason for Dunne to be so concerned. Everything could 'ave just been fine if he'd stayed.
'Gotta find him innocent,' JD thought. 'Vin's gotta be able to clear his name' - it was the only acceptable outcome.
JD remembered the telegrams that Buck had sent, sadly stating that Ezra couldn't even remember his own name. It was a horrible thing for the quick-witted and fun-loving gambler. JD remembered how easily Ezra had rattled off the names of possible candidates for temporary lawmen - how could he have lost track of his own?
JD looked at where he'd written DICK HEAD on the form. He carefully crossed out DICK and wrote RICHARD over the mistake. A man shouldn't mess with another's name, he thought.
He looked to the window when he noted someone looking in - Nathan. The healer nodded when their eyes met, then signaled to him that he was going to go down the street before he came back to take up his shift. JD knew where Jackson was going - to the telegraph office.
Nathan went there four or five times a day, looking for incoming wires or sending new ones. When news concerning Ezra first reached the town, Nathan had been beside himself with worry.
They'd been assured that Digby had a doctor who'd look after Standish, but Jackson couldn't leave it at that. He had to supply the Dr. Templeton with a continuous steam of advice and ideas. Templeton seemed to take the help in stride, answering his questions with more honesty than Buck would. The truth of those answers sometimes distressed the healer. He'd wring his hands after receiving the newest message and mutter, "I should 'ave gone along, too."
Today, the news would include Vin's fate. It made JD's gut clench just to think of it. Today, they'd learn if Vin were to swing or walk away a free man. He sighed, realizing that if the verdict was 'guilty,' Chris wouldn't allow Vin to die for it. He and Vin would disappear if at all possible, and probably Josiah with them. They'd go to Mexico… or maybe Bolivia … or Argentina, or maybe right off the end of Cape Horn.
And what if Ezra were to die? The last message said that he'd fallen into a deep sleep. What if he never woke up from that? JD knew that Buck would be torn apart. 'He's a sensitive guy,' JD thought. Buck might not come back if he'd failed to bring Ezra with him. Even if Ezra were to end up in some sort of a Crazy Hospital, JD doubted he'd see Wilmington again. No, he'd just go away… maybe catch up to Vin and Chris in Bolivia if it came to that.
Everything might change today, JD realized. God, he wanted it to go back to how it was before they all left. He needed all of them to return. It was so lonely in town without them.
After watching the healer head toward the telegraph office, JD returned his attention to the prisoner. Head was babbling on about something, but JD wasn't really paying attention. "I'll give you a nickel if you shut up," JD offered.
Richard looked stunned. "What?"
"A nickel. All you got to do is shut your yap for a while." Head looked disgusted, so JD upped the ante. "How about 10 cents?"
"Make it two-bits and you got yourself a deal," the prisoner said.
JD pulled the necessary coin out of his pocket and slammed them down on the desk. "It's yours if you keep it shut for the next hour!"
Mr. Head squeezed his mouth shut and glared back at the sheriff.
Mr. Juje at the telegraph office was annoyed. Nathan started swooping into that office far too often for the cranky telegraph operator's liking. Usually, he'd send one of his boys out the second an important message hit his shop, but he'd stopped the practice recently for Nathan. He knew the healer would be back in the office soon enough and then, if he'd kept the message in the shop, he'd at least have something to hand to the impatient healer.
JD picked up the coin and tapped it on the desk, ignoring the man who looked hungrily at the money. JD sighed realizing that this one probably didn't have the money to pay a fine and would take jail time instead. Richard Head would end up being his companion for the week. He hoped the time passed quickly.
The sheriff jumped to his feet when he heard the sound of someone running down the boardwalk, quick footsteps reverberating on the wood. He sucked in his breath, expecting trouble, then caught sight of Nathan grinning as he reached the door and flung it back.
"JD!" Jackson shouted, grasping the notes in his hand. "That pain-in-the-ass Juje had two of 'em waiting. Two!" He shook the notes for emphasis.
"The trial's over?" JD asked, seeing Nathan's jubilation. The healer had been so morose since first hearing word about Ezra's state. This was the first time he'd seen Jackson smile. He walked across the room to get a look at what Nathan held. "Did Vin do it?" he asked.
"Darn right, JD," Nathan crowed. "He's been cleared of charges."
JD slapped Nathan on the back. "That's wonderful! Gosh, Nathan. Gosh! We gotta celebrate or somethin'."
"Not yet, JD. Gotta read this one!" He separated one note from the other. "This one is …well, from someone who…" he paused as if he was trying to think of some dramatic way to say it. "Heck, it's from Ezra."
"From?" JD queried. "Not 'about'…"
"Who else would write like this?" and he cleared his throat.
GENTLEMEN," Nathan read aloud, "I JOIN YOU IN YOUR CELEBRATION FOR OUR COMPATRIOT, MR TANNER. HE HAS LONG DESERVED THIS PRONOUNCEMENT AND I KNOW THAT YOU BOTH ARE PLEASED TO HEAR IT. MR WILLINGTON AND I ARE CELEBRATING AS WE SPEAK. I ASSURE YOU THAT MY AFFLICTION HAS PASSED AND I SHALL SEE YOU AGAIN SHORTLY. I HOPE THE TOWN IS STILL STANDING. SINCERELY, EZRA."
"Affliction…" Nathan grumbled, but grinned as he looked at the two telegrams in his hands.
JD couldn't stand still. He wanted to run out onto the street or dance around, or jump and shout. To have Vin's name cleared and to have Ezra sending them telegrams AT THE SAME TIME! Well, it was a wonderful end to the day.
"This is great, Nathan," he finally said, not knowing what else could fit. "Damn good news."
"Why'zat so good?" Head said from his cell.
JD grimaced and grabbed the coin from the desk and jammed it into his pocket without looking at the criminal. Head whined and moaned, but JD was more interested in the telegrams.
Jackson lay an arm over JD's back and read with him - going over the words again.
TBC