DEAD/ALIVE - Chapter Thirty
The sparse crowd in the saloon avoided the sullen stranger with his head bent over his drink. No one had seen him before, but something ominous seemed to radiate from him. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when he finally pushed away from the bar and made his way back to the hotel.
After fumbling for the key, Kid made his way into the room. Heyes was already asleep. He had left the lamp lit and turned low. After brushing off the snow that dusted his clothes, Kid threw his hat aside and hung his damp Sherpa on a wall hook, before taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He silently watched his partner sleep. Heyes was rolled on his right side with his injured hand tucked under his left arm, pressed close to his body for added warmth.
Kid stood up and picked up the blanket that was half on and half off his partner. He carefully pulled it free, straightened it, then covered his partner to his chin. With small groans and soft mutterings, Heyes nestled deeper into the blanket.
Kid returned to the edge of his bed, and proceeded to have a silent one-sided conversation, apologizing to Heyes and acknowledging that he had been an ass in his grief and self loathing.
He rubbed a hand across the week's worth of stubble, and crossed to his saddlebags, taking them off the back of the chair and laying them on the bed. He fished his straight razor out, shaving cup and set them by the basin.
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There was a note on the table for Heyes when he woke. He was to meet Kid at the one and only cafe in town.
Heyes was surprised to see a clean shaven Kid freshly dressed. He nodded at Heyes as he entered, filled a second cup of coffee for his partner and pushed it to him.
"Looks like that snow last night was all we got," Heyes said, trying to cautiously feel Kid out.
Heyes wrapped his right hand around the hot cup and held it there.
"Your hand still bothering you?" Kid asked, peering over the top of his cup.
"No, " Heyes lied.
Kid stared at Heyes for a long moment.
"It'll be fine by the time we get to Deadwood. Don't worry." Heyes said, looking around, "Where's that waitress…I'm hungry."
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Al Swearengen woke to the unpleasant sensation of being wet. The pungent smell of urine hung in the room and burned his nostrils.
"Dammit" he cursed.
This was the second night in a row he had pissed himself like a baby. He had no or very little warning when he had to pee. He had struggled through a week of back aches that radiated down his sides and back, originating under his rib cage. Waves of pain traveled from his lower abdomen down into his groin and lower back that lasted only a few minutes, but left him exhausted and in a fouler mood than normal.
If he was being truthful to himself, Al knew what it meant, but he pushed it from his mind. The horror of what he had endured was still fresh in his mind a year later. He was not a man that scared easily, but that terrified him.
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Joanie carefully made her way across the muddied streets of Deadwood. To call the pathways streets was being generous. They consisted of mud, manure and deep ruts made by the steady, and seemingly endless traffic. Boards had been laid out to help provide a drier path. Joanie carefully picked her way across the mud covered boards, holding her drab wool dress with her free hand, the other clutched her small bag.
Deadwood had grown, nothing compared to San Francisco, but substantially larger. She wrapped the scarf tighter around her face, and pulled her hat lower to conceal her face.
She casually walked by Charlie Utter's freight business. An OPEN sign hung on the door. She paused to peer into the window to make sure there were no customers in the store. Satisfied it was empty, she entered. A small bell rang, announcing a customer. Charlie was behind the counter with his head bent over a package.
"Be there in a minute," he said without lifting his head. When he completed his task he raised his head.
"Help you Ma'am?"
Joanie looked around before she slowly unwrapped the scarf from her face.
"Joanie?!" Charlie said in a hoarse shocked whisper. "Joanie Stubbs?!"
"Hi Charlie."
His look of surprise, quickly changed to panic.
"You shouldn't be here," he said quickly as he rushed to lock the door, turned the sign to CLOSED and pulled the blinds down.
"I got you away from here…You were never to come back."
"Unfinished business."
"What unfinished business? You ain't been here in well over a year…Damn nearer to two. Ain't nothing needs to be done after that length of time. You know the man that killed your whores is long dead and his boss Hearst ain't been here in a long while. You can't be thinking of going after him, he didn't have nothing to do with them killings."
"I need your help."
Charlie stared at her, and softly said, " You know all you have to do is ask."
His attraction and fondness for her had not waned.
"Did you have reason to meet a Thaddeus Jones or a Joshua Smith? Probably would have been in the company of Jane. Thaddeus…" Joanie drew in a deep breath and slowly released if, "Light curly hair…blue eyes…"
Charlie thought for a moment, "I did. He and his friend were looking for you. But I didn't tell them where you were." He quickly added, "You know I'd never betray your trust. I swear Joanie. As I remember he was sweet on you…showed me a letter you wrote. Kind of felt sorry for him. Never saw a person more broke up when I told him, I couldn't tell him where you was."
"Have you seen them here? Within the last few days…"
"Can't say I have."
"Not with Jane?"
"'You know me and Jane have been on the outs since Wild Bill was killed."
Charlie quickly cleared a chair off. Joanie set her small bag and slowly sat down. She gave Charlie a grateful smile.
"Can I get you something to drink? Eat?"
"No, but thank you."
"I never thought I'd see you again…Joanie."
"And I never thought I would see Deadwood again. It's really good to see you Charlie…"
"Where you staying?"
Joanie shook her head. "Not sure. Certainly don't want…"
"Stay here. I got a couple rooms in the back. I have the feeling you don't want folks knowing you're here. Honestly most folks would think they were looking at a ghost. People believed you died in that fire."
"That's for the best."
"So what's your unfinished business? If I might ask…"
Joanie shook her head, "Just something that needs to be done."
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"You be needing a bath?" Charlie's face reddened and he dropped his eyes. "Looks like you've been traveling a ways."
"I look that bad?" Joanie said with a laugh.
"No…No Joanie," Charlie stammered, "You know I didn't mean…well…"
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Charlie silently cursed the door. That damn door never shut properly once it got damp. He reached out to pull it closed all the way. There was a trick if you lifted up…he froze when he saw Joanie's naked body, as she slowly slipped into the tub. He knew the difference between dirt and bruises, and that wasn't dirt. His hand tightened on the knob within rage.
Joanie looked up as Charlie entered the room. Her eyes met Charlie's. She dropped her head and sank lower into the sudsy water. His embarrassment was replaced with anger.
"Who did this to you Joanie?, " his voice was quaking with anger. "Was it that Thaddeus -."
Joanie's head jerked up, "Thaddeus? Charlie no, not Thaddeus. He would never hurt me…Not that way."
"Not that way? Well what way?"
"I…I didn't mean…Thaddeus loves me Charlie. He loves me. It wasn't him."
"Was it that other fella? Smith?"
"Joshua? No!" She said horrified.
"Who was it?"
Joanie said quietly but firmly, "It's done." Her tone warned Charlie it wasn't something she wanted to discuss.
"Is that why you are here in Deadwood?"
"Charlie, the less you know the better. Maybe I shouldn't…"
"You're right Joanie," Charlie said quickly, backing down. "No more questions."
Once Charlie left, Joanie stretched out in the warm water. She needed to get this done as quickly as possible. When the opportunity presented itself she needed to be ready.
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Àl had one hand resting against the side of the Gem, as his other hand clutched his penis. He doubled over in a painful effort to pee. If those damn kidney stones had returned…He shivered in a cold sweat at the thought of having to go through the most painful experience of his life, he felt his knees buckle. He could feel the cold hard plastic tube being forced… he quickly pushed it from his mind in a cold panic. He was so engrossed in his ability to pee, or lack of, he didn't notice the small figure that moved quietly down the alley. She stopped several feet away. Al had his back to her, as he groaned and strained. He stopped realizing he was not alone.
"This alley is taken motherfucker. If you ain't fucking noticed." Annoyed, Al looked over his shoulder surprised to see a woman.
"Ma'am?" He looked perplexed, until the woman slowly unwrapped the scarf that covered most of her face.
"Well if it ain't fucking Joanie Stubbs." Al looked genuinely surprised, "Appears as if the fucking rumors of your death…"
"Oh no…" Joanie said quietly as she slipped her glove off, "No rumor…I am dead. And now…so are you." She raised her hand with the gun in it and fired.
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Author's Note: If you are familiar with the "Deadwood" series, you know the episode, "Requiem for a Gleet" (S2E4) in which Al is freed from his misery (kidney stones) by Doc. It is one of the most traumatizing and graphic episodes in tv history. I can still hear the screams…
