Chapter 16: Reunited
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Artie's heart leaped into his throat as his eye caught the flicker of a horse's tail, from a black horse, in the distance. He squinted into the bright morning sunlight, seeing the rider wearing a dark blue jacket. He stepped sideways for a better look but, as the man approached, he sighed, seeing that it wasn't his absent partner. As the unknown man passed by, he turned back to Cobb.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Artie sighed.
Cobb spit on the ground and looked at the train. Men were cutting off the pieces of splintered wood where it was still attached to the metal hinges. "I was saying that them hinges was twisted and will need to be replaced. I asked that a blacksmith come over and look to see what needs to be done."
Artie nodded, "whatever you think is best, Cobb." He watched the workmen, "do you think this will be done today? I need to speak to the office about the schedule and when we can get track clearance."
Cobb rubbed his stubbly chin, "I can't rightly say now. We need to wait and see what the blacksmith says. Could have to wait for parts to be made or maybe he can fix these. I supposed he could remove them and heat them up, straighten them."
Artie patted the engineer's shoulder, "take all the time you need. I have a feeling Jim will be longer than I thought at first. I wish he had taken more supplies with him. Handing him a couple of canteens and food for a day or two was not good planning. He should have been back by now." He turned again as another black horse in the distance caught his eye. "Maybe we can…" he paused, watching the horse and rider turn into the town instead of toward the train, as Jim would have. Clearing his throat, he started again, "let's see about splitting the stable car from the varnish, and move the horses to the corral. I am sure we'll be spending the night."
Cobb nodded as Artie moved to the yard office.
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Jim leaned his back against the stone cliff, trying to absorb its heat through his coat in the cool morning shade. He twisted his spine, trying to find a comfortable position. The burns on his back itched and sent pains shooting everywhere. The stab wounds in his left side had subsided to a dull throb unless he moved. The blood had dried up but the area around the stab holes was red and swollen. He shifted again and Lori caught the movement.
"Sit still," she snapped, tossing a wallet toward him. "I'll bring this shit to you in just a minute." She looked back at the body in front of her as she knelt on the ground. "Lord knows I am going as fast as I can." She swatted at flies that buzzed now around the bloody mess in the abdominal area. Pulling the jacket open had released flies and maggots but she had wanted to search the dead man's pockets.
"I was just stretching," Jim said, his voice weak. He lifted the canteen with his right hand and sipped sparingly. He squinted toward the sky, "we should have left earlier, before daybreak. This sun is going to be strong today."
"It's the desert," Lori said, "when isn't it strong?" She tossed an envelope onto the wallet, seeing Jim's eyes move to it. "You're a pushover for an envelope of papers, aren't you?" Jim grinned at her. "How about a small book?" A small, black leather book was added to the growing pile. The pockets were soon all turned inside out and she sat back on her boot heels.
"I hope something in that pile will be useful," Jim said. "Do you need help getting him on the frame? Though we could just leave him here for the buzzards."
Lori shook her head, "I told you he is still worth money, even being dead. He is not smelling very good though. I hope we don't have to drag him long." She looked around, "I bet every coyote in the area will be trailing behind us today. Buzzards too." She grabbed the edges of the heavy coat and pulled them around the body, fixing the buttons. "That's as much as I can do. I can drag him to the frame by his shoulders." Grasping the coat, she pulled the dead man over the sand, the head flopping from side to side, the eyes staring blankly at nothing. She dropped the body onto the metal and leather mesh fame. With a few adjustments, the body was soon strapped on.
"That smells bad," Jim said, his nose wrinkling. "And I've smelled some bad things in my time." He waved the canteen at a fly that was moving around his face. "I think I'll ride ahead of you."
Lori sighed and stood, hands on hips, looking down at him. "Ya, now to get you on your horse." She turned to walk to the horses nearby. Her white mare was nibbling on the branches of a mesquite while Jim's black was grazing nearby in the shade of a thicker stand of trees. She lead her horse, already saddled, to the frame and attached the leather straps to either side of her saddle. "There, that wasn't so bad."
Jim whistled to his horse, "come on Blackjack, time to go," he said softly. The horse quickly approached and stopped at Jim's feet, ears flickering as the flies moved closer. Lori reached down to take the saddle blanket off Jim's legs. "I can do that," he said, putting the canteen down and picking up his hat.
"Don't you dare move," Lori snapped, glaring at him. He sat back against the cliff, amused but silent. "If I don't get you back to the train alive, Artemus would kill me and then die of a heart attack."
Jim laughed, shaking his head, "I'll die on duty, but it won't be from this."
"Nice, hopeful yet depressing at the same time," Lori said, rolling her eyes. She put the blanket on the horse's back and leaned down to pick up the saddle. Blackjack twisted his neck and bit the blanket, pulling it off. He dropped it on the ground and whinnied, stomping on it. "What? I don't have time for a game of charades with a horse." She grabbed the blanket and tried to put it on the horse but he stepped away, sideways.
"Blackjack," Jim said, clicking his teeth. "Be good, big fella." The horse blew at him and tossed its head. Jim put the canteen down again and raised a hand to grab the dangling rein. "Stand still," he said, jostling the strap. Jim winked up at Lori as the annoyed girl stood with the blanket. "Go ahead now. He does this with Artie all the time. At least he didn't try to bite you."
"He bites Artie?" Lori quietly put the blanket on the horse and quickly added the saddle.
"They have terrible fights," Jim grinned, "don't ya, boy? Blackjack bit his shoulder the other day and it was black and swollen. And then I got blamed, of course." The horse turned its ears, obviously listening to his voice.
"All saddled," Lori announced, stepping back from the horse. "Do you think you can stand and climb up?"
Jim grinned at her and looked back at the stallion. "Blackjack, down boy, down," he said, pulling down on the rein. The horse paused and then lowered down onto its two front legs. And then slowly lowered down to its back legs. Jim rose to his feet, leaning heavily on the horse's neck, and moved to the saddle. He grasped the horn and raised his right leg over the saddle. He slowly lowered himself to the seat and grasped the horn, clicked his tongue. "Ok, up, boy, up." The horse lurched side to side as it climbed to his feet. Jim's body swayed but he kept his seat.
"Wow," Lori said, surprised, "That is impressive. Did you teach him that?"
"I taught him everything," Jim said quietly, patting his hand along the horse's neck. "We do everything together, don't we, big fella," he said. The horse whinnied and tossed its head. "Still working on not biting Artie though," he grinned.
"Obviously he's just jealous," Lori said, patting the horse's side, "The horse, not your partner, of course. So you feel strong enough to ride for a while?"
"Good enough," Jim said, looking down at her. "You're not tying what's left of ole John over my saddle so I can't switch places with him." He squinted up at the sky. "Hopefully we don't have to go too far. We can go east, cut across the tracks, and follow them to the next town. Artie will be having the train fixed and wait for us."
Lori climbed onto her horse and pulled the wide brimmed hat down low over his eyes, "lead the way."
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The varnish car lurched to a stop and the whistle blew a long blast. Mary squealed with delight and jumped back from the window. "The train broke in half and then went back together and now it's even shorter! I love this train," she announced. "Let's never leave it."
"Never, ever?" Artemus said, kneeling down to look her in the eye. "But I had hoped to leave right away." The girl glared at him with tiny fists on her hips. He smiled at her, thinking how much she reminded him of Jim at times. He leaned closer and whispered, "I wanted to take two pretty young ladies out to lunch today." He wiggled his eyebrows at the girl and she burst into laughter.
"Oh, really?" Christian said. She sat on the couch, looking at them from over its back. Sophie lay stretched out on the gold cloth, purring, as the young woman patted the soft fur. "And who are these two pretty young ladies of whom you speak?"
Artie looked over at her, grinning, "well, I will give you a hint. Its two pretty ladies on this train." He paused, looking at her black shirt, "though we need to find you more appropriate attire." He stood, looking down at Mary. "Want to help find her a dress to wear?" Mary jumped up and down squealing again. "I thought so," he said, putting a gentle hand on the top of her head. He looked at Christian who was sitting silently, staring at the kitten. "Well? Are you game?"
Christian looked up at him, whispering, "I didn't bring a dress with me. Do you think I shouldn't go as I am?"
Artemus bowed, "I am offering what few dresses we have on board." He stood, holding out a hand. "Please?" He smiled, relieved, as she stood, looking at him quizzically. He took her hand and pulled her closer, whispering, "We occasionally have guests in need of a change of clothing so we have a variety of dresses. Nothing fancy, just day dresses, but possibly more acceptable to the people of this town…"
"You just don't want me arrested for dressing out of my gender," Christian smiled, her fingers slowly twisting the buttons on his jacket. "All right, dressmaker, lead the way. They must be hidden since I didn't see any dresses when I looked through your closets the other day."
Artie grinned, taking her hand, "they are packed away. We may need to shake the wrinkles out." They walked together down the hall, followed by a curious child, now carry a wiggly kitten.
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Jim sipped again from the canteen, shaking it to determine how empty it was becoming. "We're getting short of water," he said quietly. His eyes scanned the open areas on either side of them as he sat on Blackjack. "I thought we would find the tracks by now."
Lori stopped her horse a few feet behind him. "Maybe we should rest in the shade for a few hours. It's going to be too hot soon to keep traveling."
Jim pointed to some cacti in the distance. "We can get water from those," he said, nudging his horse forward a few yards further. He stopped at a clump of cacti, each one was wide and covered with thorns, and of various height. A few red flowers were on the taller ones.
"What are you taking about," Lori said, riding forward but still staying back, knowing the body behind her was fast becoming putrid and covered with flies. "You want to eat a cactus? That could be poisonous."
Jim sighed, closing his eyes. He spoke softly, nodding toward the clump. "A cactus is a very valuable plant in the desert. You need to learn about your surroundings, what you can use to survive, what's poisonous and what isn't."
"And how did you learn…" Lori started to ask but stopped as Jim continued to speak.
"That's a barrel cactus or a fish hook," he said, his eyes still shut. "The barbs are curved like a fish hook. That is the only cactus you can get water from; all others are poisonous. But," he paused, swaying slightly in the saddle, "you can't drink a lot from this plant either, it can give you a stomach ache." He opened one eye to peer at her, "better than dying though."
Lori slid from her saddle and walked to the clump of cacti, looking closely at the barbs. "They are hooked," she muttered. She stepped sideways, approaching another cactus, "and these barbs are straight. So it isn't a fish hook?"
"That's a baby Saguaro," Jim said, watching her through his eyelashes. "Look at the barbs of that taller one behind it." Lori walked to the multiple armed Saguaro, leaning closer to study the hooks and smooth sides.
"Interesting," she said, standing straight again. She pulled her hat off and wiped her forehead with her sleeve. "But you didn't say how you learned all this." She turned to watch him, noticing he was leaning to the left, holding his injured side more than he had earlier. "Well let's get some cactus water into you and then you can tell me." She walked back to the clump, pulling her boot knife. "What do I do?"
"Cut the top off and peel the sides down a bit," Jim said slowly. "Cut out a chunk of the insides and wrap it inside your bandanna. When you squeeze, the water will be filtered through the cloth." As he spoke, she began slicing, quickly moving a large section into her sweat-stained handkerchief. "Want me to test it first?" She handed a piece up to him. He held the cloth over his mouth as he tipped his head back. Twisting the cloth, fluid dripped into his open mouth. "Not bad," he said, his voice clearer. He twisted it again, getting a few more drops. He lowered his hands to his lap, sighing. "I think I need to rest for the afternoon. Let's camp nearby, in the shade."
Lori grabbed the bridle of the two horses and walked them to the shade of a thick clump of mesquite nearby. She unhooked the sled and pulled the body into another clump of shade further away. A swarm of flies lifted a few feet as the body moved but quickly resettled when it stopped.
Jim slid slowly from his saddle and quickly sat in the dirt. Lori moved to the cactus and cut away a second chunk. She wrapped it again and walked quickly back to him. "Seconds?"
Jim looked up at her, "You next," he whispered.
"No, you next," she said, waving the bundle at him. "You look like shit and you need water, or whatever this is. You're bleeding again and we don't have any more bandages so we can't clean your wound. And your eye is swollen shut. And I bet your back hurts like hell."
Jim took the cloth and squeezed the moisture again into his mouth. "Your fault my eye hurts." He grinned at her. "I'm fine, I just need to rest. We'll get going later when its cooler. If we can't find the tracks, we will at least know which east is."
Lori stared at him, "well watching the sun, it sets in the west, so we will just head east. Then we need to find the north star after dark."
Jim nodded toward the barrel cacti, "see how the tallest one in each group is leaning? The first one always leans to the southwest."
Lori crossed her arms and glared down at him, "I think you're feverish and have drank too much crazy cactus water. You have cactus on the brain."
"It's true," Jim said, grinning at her. He handed her handkerchief up to her, "thank you," he whispered. He lay down on his back, grimaced, and rolled to his right side. "Wake me later," he muttered.
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"Artemus?" Christian said softly, placing a hand to his forearm.
Artie's eyes followed the two riders as they approached up the main street, one black horse and one white horse, just as he was expecting. He held his greeting to his friend at the last second as he realized it wasn't Jim and Lori. He let out a long say. "Not them," his said, his voice catching.
"They'll be along," Christian said. "I'm sure they're fine. It's just taking longer than we expected. Besides it was only last night." She squeezed his arm. "I bet we will see them before dark. And if not, Jim is good in the desert and Lori is stronger than an average female."
Artie nodded, patting her hand. "Yes, Jim knows how to survive in the desert. He has spent a lot of time out there, especially after the war." They began to walk slowly down the sidewalk, looking at storefronts and at the people passing. Mary skipped happily along next to Christian. Both were dressed in simple dresses that were comfortable in the strong afternoon sun.
"What was he doing in the desert after the war?" Christian asked curiously. "Fighting Indians? I thought he was fond of them and could speak the language. Or some of the languages."
"A little of both," Artie said, "it's a long story but I suppose we have nothing else to do. I can tell you over lunch. That looks like a nice place," he said, nodding toward a restaurant with a checkerboard sign over hear. "The Country Bumpkin." Artie chuckled, "I doubt that they will serve any fancy French dinners but maybe a hearty stew is what we need." He stepped back to hold the door open for them. "And we can relax and escape the heat while the train is fixed. I told the train stationmaster to put on the schedule for ten o'clock tonight but I will cancel if they haven't arrived." He stole another glance down the busy street for a black horse and a rider dressed in blue. Not seeing anyone familiar, he entered the restaurant.
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"I can eat this?" Lori said, her eyebrows twisted with suspicion. She held up a bright pink cactus flower. "If you're trying to poison me or make me eat something that will make me pass out…?"
"That's it," Jim laughed, "I want you to eat something that will cause you to pass out. Why? So I can have my way with you?" He twisted in pain, his left arm hugging his side. "I'm not really in the mood, if you know what I mean." He wiped a sleeve across his sweating face.
Lori nibbled at the flower, grimacing. "I am hungry enough to eat anything but a cactus flower just seems odd."
"I've seen people eat rose petals and other flowers," Jim said. "I guess that's no different." He picked up a flower that she had tossed to him. "I'm not really hungry but I should eat something. We can start out again in another hour or so. I want to go before its dark." He nodded toward the mass of flies on the sled nearby. "Are you still insisting we bring that? Bodies that have been left out in the desert sun are not pleasant travel companions."
"He comes with us," Lori growled, taking a larger bite of the flower. "He's worth money."
Jim stared at her for a minute, "If he is wanted by Colonel Richmond and this Senator for attacking your friend Elizabeth, how can he be worth money? What else is he wanted for that a bond has been set already? Sounds like you still haven't told me the whole sordid tale."
Lori sat back, sipping from her canteen. She set it down and stared back at him. "There are a few parts I haven't told you because this is a need to know business and I didn't think you needed to know."
Jim's eyes glared at her, "when working together, agents share information so that the case progresses and no one gets hurt. Lies cause confusion which usually causes injury and death."
"I haven't lied to you," Lori snapped. Then she sighed, "ok, I guess it won't hurt to tell you more of the beginning of the adventure. When I told you that we didn't like our friend Elizabeth becoming involved with John, it was because we already knew he had done bad things to women in Washington. We also knew he lived in California and traveled back and forth. There was talk that he had been married and his wife came up missing on one of these trips East. I know some police officers that were asking around. In their investigation, they couldn't find the body of the missing wife but they found a woman who had been attacked and beaten by John. We contacted her in a hospital and spoke with her. Apparently John is a mean drunk and likes to hit. The police didn't want to charge him though because the woman worked in a saloon by the docks."
"Wait," Jim said, "John is suspected of killing his wife but there isn't a body. Then he is accused of assault but no charges are pressed? This seems odd to me."
"There are not a lot of laws protecting women," Lori continued, "especially wives. Murder is punished but hitting your wife isn't always considered a crime. And if you hit a prostitute, police don't get involved. But they had their eye on this guy and they wanted him free so they could follow him and get clues about his missing wife. As long as he hung around prostitutes, they didn't care what happened. But then he met Elizabeth, daughter of a Senator."
Jim nodded, "and suddenly the case needs to be wrapped up. He needs to be arrested and taken off the streets. But no new crime has been committed. Since they didn't arrest him on the older crimes, they couldn't pick him up until he did something new."
"And the new crime was assaulting the Senator's daughter and kidnapping the child," Lori said, holding her canteen out as a toast. "And the Senator was upset, understandably, that this guy had been walking the streets. If he had been arrested for assault earlier, his daughter wouldn't be in the hospital and this grandchild missing."
"And," Jim added, "the real prize for Richmond is John's father, leader of the den of thieves with the usual variety of criminal acts. So we have smuggling, money laundering, maybe some counterfeiting? The usual, under the table, quiet money making schemes performed by the father. And then idiot son ruins it with drinking and assaults, getting the attention of the police."
Lori sat back, looking at him, "am I boring you with all this?"
Jim grinned, "I should hand out pre-printed check lists to suspect; it would be so much faster than questioning them. Just check off the boxes of the shit you're doing and call it a day." He sighed, "they all get caught but it's usually a hell of a fight. Which is why we kill so many."
"How many have you killed?" Lori asked quietly.
Jim held her gaze, "I stopped counting a long time ago."
"Do you remember the first one?" Lori's voice was a whisper now.
"No, not really," Jim said, thinking, "though it would have been during the war. There is a lot of shooting in a battle but it isn't hand to hand." He stopped for a minute, "I guess the first real close, hand-to-hand, fight to the death was actually nearby to where we are now." Lori's eyebrows shot up in surprise but she stayed silent. "I was working with an Indian Agent," he said, his voice turning to a growl, "A real bastard. He was provided large sums of Federal money to feed the Indians on the local reservations but was keeping most of it for himself. You know the history? Remove Indians from the East, where the climate is cool, march them, or at least their survivors, out West and restrict them to land that isn't fit for cattle to survive on. And then promise to provide them with food."
"I have read about that," Lori said. "So this Indian agent was stealing Federal money? I wonder if they all did it, to a point, but he was especially greedy and got caught."
"I don't know how prevalent the game was in other areas but some probably did a good job and were interested in preserving the culture," Jim said, "but the guy I was assigned to just kept most of the money for himself. It was obvious when I reviewed his ledgers. He purchased food but not enough and what he did purchase was worm-infested meat, rotten vegetables, and bad water," he grimaced, "They were simply starving. Anyway," he paused, taking a deep breath, "when I wrote a report back to Washington, he was enraged. He lost his position. Then I was instructed to arrest him and drag his sorry ass back. Well he decided he didn't want to accompany me." He stopped again, and then started, his voice lower, "we only traveled until the first night. I had untied him so he could relieve himself and instead, he attacked me with a hidden knife. It wasn't much of a fight but," he paused again, "but he was the first man I killed with a knife. It's more personal than a gun at any distance, even at close range with the shotgun." He took a sip off the canteen. "It wasn't long after that that Grant asked me to join the Secret Service and help build the program."
"So you lived out here with the Indians for a while?" Lori asked. "You said you speak some of the languages."
Jim smiled, still half lost in thought, "it's funny, I can't remember very much French or Italian, or any of those European languages, even after spending so much time with people, but I picked up a few Indian languages easily." He chuckled, "and Artie is just the opposite. I think he is so nervous around Indians he can't pay attention to what they are saying. And he has never spent that much time with them."
"Oh, your brains are made differently," Lori smiled. She nodded toward John's body. "He is the first person I ever killed. I won't be telling me family about it, that's for sure. I was hoping it wouldn't ever come to that."
"I told you they don't come easily," Jim said, "Your first case and your first death." He winked at her. "You know what that means?" She looked up at him, surprised, "you have a 100% death rate." He grinned as she snorted, rolling her eyes. "That's even worse than mine."
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Artemus held little Mary in his arms as they watched the engine back up toward the varnish car. The stable car was already in its usual place, with a new ramp door attached. New metal hinges reflected the pinkish light of the setting sun. The stable car hit the varnish, the great metal hook clanging as the two cars attached. Mary squealed at clapped her hands, bouncing with excitement.
"Back together," Artie said, watching the yard men move around the train. He looked to Christian standing next to him, "and we are scheduled to leave at 10:30 tonight."
Christian squeezed his arm, "they'll be back before then."
Artie took a deep breath, "if not, we can delay it until tomorrow. It's not like…" His voice caught as his eyes looked past her. Down the yard, a dark figure was outlined against the sun setting on the horizon. The figure wore a flat hat and rode a dark horse. Artie stepped sideways to get a better view and immediately saw the white horse behind the dark one. "It's them," he smiled, suddenly weak with relief. "They made it."
Christian turned to look also. "And see, they are both fine," her voice said, though the sentence ended in a question. Jim's figure was twisted oddly in his saddle, almost sitting sideways. His head was up, as he looked at the train, but his shoulders were hunched. "I'm sure it isn't serious," she started to say.
Artie turned and handed the child to her, "why don't you take Mary inside and I will meet them down the yard." As Christian took the child, they both froze, eyes meeting over the toddler's head, "and break out the bandages too, please." He released them and hurried forward as Christian moved quickly into the varnish car.
"Jim?" He hurried forward, grabbing the bridle of the black horse. "Are you alright? Are you shot?" His eyes tore over his partner's body, looking for bullet holes and blood stains.
Jim's eyes lowered, a slow smile coming to his face. "I'm fine, partner." He paused as Artie reached up to grasp his wrist. "Are you all right? You weren't doing so well when I left."
Artie reached up to rub his head, "It fine, I actually forgot about myself waiting for you two." He reached up and pulled Jim's jacket open, gasping at the sight of the dark stains, "you are shot!"
"No, he isn't" Lori said as she nudged her horse forward. "He's just developing some new scars for the office secretaries to gawk at." She smiled as Jim glared at her. "But he does need a few clean bandages." Jim pulled his coat from Artie's grasp, avoiding his gaze.
Artie looked back and forth, between them, and his nose wrinkled. Then he looked behind them at the body on the sled. A blanket of black flies covered the torso and face "Is that John? What the hell happened?" The men working on the train had approached in curiosity but quickly backed away, pulling handkerchiefs over their face as the stench spread across the yard. He stepped between the horses to approach the dead man. "Looks like he gave you some trouble."
"He declined our invitation to return to the train," Jim said, "But Lori insisted." He winked at her as Artie looked back at them. "She says he's worth money. And he better be worth money in this town because he isn't going on that train."
"There's a Federal Marshall's office on the far end of the yard. Hopefully he'll take him," Artie said, backing away from the body. "Luckily," he added, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket. "You would get arrested for dragging this mess through town." He looked up at Lori and then back to his partner. "You two look terrible. I'm going to send for the doctor for you," he said, cutting Jim's protest off. "And you," he said, looking at Lori, noticing the filth and sweat stuck to her face and clothing, "I think I should dunk you in the nearest water trough before you enter the train and burn your clothes."
Jim snorted, "Make sure she isn't holding that shotgun, partner." Artie gave him a worried look.
Lori laughed, "I'll wash my face and hands on the way back." She nudged her horse and walked forward, the body dragging behind her. As it passed Artie, he quickly stepped sideways, his hands desperately waving at the hoard of flies. "Sorry," she called out, waving back at them. "Don't leave without me either."
"Bring that frame back with you too," Jim called out, grinning. He looked down at his partner, "When do we pull out?"
"At ten thirty tonight," Artie growled, still waving at flies. "This is going to make for a long and interesting story. Let's get you inside and cleaned up."
Cobb was suddenly there, taking Blackjack's bridle. "I have already sent for the doctor," he announced, "and I will get this big fellow watered, brushed, and fed. We'll bring them all back before we go."
Jim slid slowly from the saddle and leaned against the horse, feeling the heat coming off the dark hide. "I don't need a damned doctor," he growled. The he noticed Cobb and Artemus exchange a look over his head, knowing his usual protests would be ignored, as usual. "Just grab my arm and drag me inside," Jim sighed, "maybe if I'm not a mess when he arrives I won't get poked and prodded everywhere."
Artie grabbed his partner's right arm and slowly walked him to the steps of the varnish car.
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