Ethan and Lenny arrived in Valentine, sometime just after sunset. The story Lenny told was almost too unbelievable, yet it was something he expected from Micah; he was a loose cannon and it was only a matter of time before he erupted.
"I knew Micah would get in trouble," He said, tying his horse to the post. "You guys were just supposed to be scouting–"
"I kept asking what we were doing, but he was all like, 'You worry too much, kid,'" Lenny mocked. "Or 'just some business to tend to, kid'...you know how he is."
"Yeah, I do–"
Lenny was tense. "He was half-soaked before we even got there," He shook his head. "Then we ran into some fellers, one of them Micah knew, drank some more...and this is supposed to be a dry town we're in too."
"Let me guess, he shot one of 'em?"
"Yeah, he did - can't even tell ya how."
"I get the idea." Ethan replied, tipping his hat at a passerby.
"It happened like the strike of a match. The law was on us fast, too...they were ready to string me up right there and then, but I got away."
"Well I'm glad you're alright."
Lenny heaved a heavy sigh. "Me too. So your Pa's gonna go get him? Maybe I'll go with him. I mean, I was there and–"
"Leave it to him," Ethan shook his head. "He'll know what he has to do. Now you and I need to find something to drink."
"I don't know…it was the drink that started all this."
"Come on, we'll just have a couple - settle you down, then head back okay?
They entered the Saloon; the very place the brawl took place, which just so happened to involve his father. With any luck, no one would remember what happened. The atmosphere was friendly and serene; there were plenty of tables available with patrons who had come in from a hard day's work.
"Hey you! I don't want no more trouble." The bartender warned.
"You'll get none from me, sir." Ethan assured.
"I don't want trouble. And what happened to Tommy–"
"No problem at all. Here, have one for yourself." Ethan handed him twenty-five cents.
The Bartender took the money and gave a nod of thanks.
"Micah knows a lot of people," Lenny said, shaking his head. "That's his problem."
"What do you mean?" Ethan questioned.
"I mean, I've seen a lot of crazy stuff, but Micah–"
Suddenly, a third voice joined in the conversation; a very drunk and angry man.
Ethan huffed. "Will you shut up?"
"Will you shut up?" The man slurred.
"Be quiet, buddy."
"They're dullards," The drunk murmured. "My Lord, you men is dull–"
"Ethan just leave this fool alone."
"'Leave the fool alone,'" The drunkard repeated. "People have been leaving me alone for the last ten years. I'm bored with being left alone–"
Ethan turned to Lenny, who seemed to share the same sentiment as he did. And so, with a sigh, he turned on the stool to face the drunk.
"Listen….uh, what's your name?" Ethan asked.
"Jeb. Name's Jeb."
"Well Jeb, you seem like a nice feller...but me and my friend here, we're trying to talk business. So could you get out here? Now."
Ethan's stare was unwavering, something he learned from his father. And it seemed to get his point across.
"Ain't no pleasing some folk. I was just...tryin' to be friendly." Jeb slurred.
"Fool–" Lenny mumbled.
When the drunkard finally left, Ethan and Lenny clinked their bottles.
]The drinks continued for a few hours, as they talked about the ups and downs of camp. And when Ethan downed his last drink, his world became a little fuzzy.
"Hey that's great, partner!" Ethan called out. "I'll drink another in your honor!"
Ethan poured himself another shot of whiskey, and as he lifted the glass, he noticed that Lenny was missing.
"Lenny?" He muttered, looking around.
At a slow, alcohol-laden pace, the young outlaw wandered the saloon in search of his missing friend.
"Lenny, where are you?" Ethan shouted.
He shuffled to the entrance and glanced over the double doors, thinking he might've gone to get air. When he didn't see the young degenerate, he turned to a table full of gamblers.
"S'cuse me, you know which way my friend went?"
"Mmm no, sorry." Said the well dressed man.
"You sure you ain't seen my friend anywhere?"
"We ain't see nothing, partner."
Ethan laughed at nothing in particular, as he took a swig of his beer. He walked to another table at the far end of the Saloon, this one was not so full.
"Excuse me sir, you seen that feller I was with?"
"I think you've had too much to drink, boy." The older man observed.
"I ain't no kid–" Ethan retorted, stumbling to the stairs. "Heya miss, I can't find my friend. You know where he went?"
The beautiful working gal, with a robust figure and a titillating cleavage, giggled like she'd heard something funny. Well it wasn't funny to him.
"I haven't seen him, but I can keep you company if you want." She tapped his chin.
"No, no, I'm just fine on my own, thank you ma'am."
Ethan laughed as he made his way up to the first floor, where a few rooms sat occupied and unoccupied.
"What're you doin' Lenny?"
Lenny stood outside one of the empty rooms, balancing a beer bottle on his forehead. It was certainly strange behavior, especially coming from Lenny.
"Hey Ethan, you know what?"
"What?" He asked, leaning against the railing.
"When are you gonna propose to Mary-Beth?"
Ethan laughed and shook his head. "What are you going on about?"
"Yeah….mhm," Lenny teased. "Now's your chance."
"I don't know." Ethan shrugged.
"She ain't gonna wait around for you forever."
He patted Lenny on the shoulder, which jolted the younger man and caused the bottle to slip from his hand. The pair watched as the bottle tumbled over the rail and shattered into a million pieces. The Saloon suddenly went silent and everyone looked up at them - they looked over at one another and began to laugh at their own foolishness. When their laughter died down, the Saloon grew loud and they began to drink again.
"You see, the thing is–"
Ethan turned and realized he was alone….again.
"Lenny?" He asked in between slurs.
The shattering of glass guided Ethan down stairs once more.
"Slippery little shit, ain't he?" An angry patron exclaimed, cornering Lenny against the bar.
Lenny looked terrified, as he tried to defuse the situation, but his efforts became all the provocation they needed.
"Hey - leave him alone!" Ethan shouted. "Goddamn animals."
The older mountain man turned at the shout. He looked annoyed yet slightly amused that Ethan had anything to say.
"Who do you think you're talking to, kid?"
"No one worthy of my eyes–" He spat.
"What did you say?" Another man demanded.
"What?"
"Ya heard me, fool!"
Ethan barked a laugh. "Pfft. Get lost, buddy."
"You all better shut it or take it outside! I am NOT havin' no more trouble in here!" The bartender warned.
"Yeah….shut your mouth, kid." The older mountain man growled.
What was supposed to end in a bar fight ended with Ethan, Lenny, and their opponents line-dancing to the music that blasted from the piano. It was definitely something no one expected, something unheard of and maybe a little taboo, but no one was complaining - least of all, the bartender. The revelry that was enjoyed by everyone, soon died down to a dull roar. And after a moment of clarity, Ethan stumbled out back to take a piss.
The feeling was short-lived when, and much to his dismay, he realized that was pissing all over his boots. He cursed his own stupidity, but to be fair, his bodily functions were the least of his concerns; he'd stepped in much worse. As Ethan stumbled back into the Saloon, he swore his mind was playing tricks on him as every person inside was…Lenny? He knew it wasn't right, but they all looked so real.
"Lenny?" Ethan slurred, stumbling in the direction of the bar.
Lenny was the bartender, Lenny was each of the patrons, Lenny was the working gal's, everyone was Lenny or they stole his face!
"Lenny?...Lenny?...LENNY!"
Ethan walked up the staircase and saw a working gal with Lenny's face, which made him uncomfortable because she had the best rack he'd ever seen. Even worse was when he, in his search, opened one of the room doors and saw Lenny being pleasured by a lady of the evening.
"Oh my God!" The naked woman, who unsurprisingly had Lenny's face, screamed.
"I'm sorry!" Ethan panicked and slammed the door.
Thankfully the real Lenny, who was two bottles of beer deeper, saw Ethan and stumbled towards him.
"What're you doing?"
The pair went back to drinking on the floor, draining the bottles and swapping stories. They were quite loud, but the piano was louder.
"I'm telling you, I think Bill wants to–"
Ethan rambled on in his drunken state, causing Lenny to laugh, snicker and sneer.
"Ah - you're a good friend to me, Ethan. A really good friend."
"I know it–" Ethan pushed Lenny's shoulder. "Cheers."
Just as they both clinked their bottles, Jeb, the drunken man, appeared again.
"Cheers!" He slurred, swaying a large bottle of bourbon.
"Ugh, not you aga–"
The drunkard snatched Ethan's bottle from his hand, further angering the young degenerate. He stood up, grabbed Jeb's arm and together, he and Lenny carried him out back, where a water trough sat ready to teach a lesson. Ethan and Lenny held Jeb by the ankles, dunking the poor soul in the filth ridden water.
The situation might have grown into something more, had it not been for the arrival of the law. An officer lunged for Lenny, who was too intoxicated to react. He did, however, let go of Jeb's ankle submerging him in the chilly water.
"I got him - I got the bastard!"
"You, stay where you are!" The Sheriff warned Ethan.
Had he been sober, Ethan would've listened. However, he didn't and now the law was breathing down their necks….or at least his. He had a decent head start, and didn't waste any time in trying to get away….or so he thought.
"Come here, you drunken fool!"
"You'll never take me alive!"
At that moment, Ethan felt like the fastest man alive.
"I'm an American!" Ethan shouted.
He saw his freedom end when, in his attempt to escape, his alcohol-fueled clumsiness sent him crashing head first into a wall. The outlaw fell backward into a puddle of mud, dazed and confused, as the lawman dragged him to his new home; jail.
"Stupid drunken fool–" The lawman insulted.
"Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness!" Ethan slurred.
It wasn't long before Ethan was slipping in and out of consciousness, and when he finally woke, it was morning. He grunted and rubbed his eyes; his head pounding like a drum, his world spinning.
"Hey Ethan."
"Lenny–" Ethan groaned. "What the hell did we do?"
"Gentleman," The Sheriff greeted. "Quite the spree you had last night. You youngsters have been charged with assault, so I hope you have money for your bail."
Ethan turned to Lenny.
"Not a single penny," Lenny shook his head. "You?"
Ethan checked his coat and then pants pockets; only a couple of dollars, but not much for his bail, let alone the both of theirs.
"Damn."
As if God heard his prayers, or he was just embarrassed for the young outlaw, the door to the Sheriff's office opened, and their savior walked in.
"Well, look what we have here–"
"Pa?" Ethan asked.
Lenny swallowed thickly. "Hey…Arthur."
"So what're they in for?" Arthur asked.
The Sheriff shrugged. "Assault. These two degenerates had a heavy night of drinking and running from the law."
"Pair of fools," Arthur huffed. "You're lucky I'm here, or you'd both be hanging. What the hell were you thinking?"
Ethan shrunk, embarrassed.
"Sorry, Pa–"
Arthur shook his head and turned to the Sheriff.
"How much is bail?"
"Well now that you mention it–" The Sheriff looked at Ethan. "I think I'm able to turn a blind eye for a bit and tell them it'll be half the usual fine. I mean...this young man did catch Benedict Allbright, notorious charlatan and snake oil salesman, just a couple o'days back."
"You don't say?"
"Did they hang the bastard yet?" Ethan asked, clutching the bars. "The man sold cures to people who were dying and stole everything they had as a payment."
"He's been transported to Saint Denis, the Government wants to send a message and hang him publicly. So I imagine it'll be a few days yet."
Arthur pulled a few dollars from his pocket, which the Sheriff gladly accepted.
"My pleasure Gentlemen, but may I also remind you two that from now on you are both forbidden from entering the Saloon."
"Yes sir." Ethan said.
"All right." Lenny agreed.
As the two boys left the Sheriff's office, with Arthur in tow, Lenny keeled over the side and wretched. Ethan would've said something, but his legs were weak and he had to take a seat before he passed out.
"You two look like shit." Arthur stated the obvious, as he lit a cigarette.
"I feel terrible." Lenny mumbled, wiping his mouth.
"I'm sorry, Pa, we got a little carried away."
"Heh, it's alright–" Arthur shrugged. "Just be more careful, okay? Gonna start causing more trouble than me. But…on that note, I am glad you started doing things around here - like that snake oil salesman."
Ethan gave a half hearted smile, not really capable of a proper response at the moment.
After a few minutes to collect themselves, Ethan and Lenny managed to mount their steads and follow Arthur through the muddy town of Valentine.
"So how'd it go with Hosea?" Ethan asked.
"Okay," Arthur took a drag off his cigarette. "We found the bear; enormous fucker, but he got away from us. Managed to clip it through the ear though. Tracks head South-West, could've gone after it but it's pretty close to Blackwater."
"Mmm, smart idea to come back then." Lenny added.
"How about you boys? Dutch told me about Micah–"
Lenny rolled his eyes.
"Are you gonna go get him?"
"If it were up to me, I'd let him hang." Arthur spat. "But, Dutch wants me to so I'll take yous both back to camp then head to Strawberry."
"You want me to go with you?" Lenny asked.
"Nah," Arthur rejected. "I can do it alone. Besides, I don't want anyone getting caught in the crossfire - we know how that'll end."
Ethan knew Arthur was annoyed with the task; always an errand boy for Dutch. He wished he could help.
"How about you? Done anything besides catch crooks?" Arthur jutted his chin.
"Oh…uh well," Ethan swallowed the rising bile in his throat. "I went hunting with Charles and...that's about it."
"Heh, I saw the Bison skin in camp. Good eye."
Ethan wanted to tell Arthur that he saw Mary, but he knew that would stir up a hornet's nest and he wasn't prepared for that fight today. He knew how his father felt about his mother; not exactly hatred, but not exactly love either.
After they got back to camp, Ethan stumbled to his tent. He splashed his face with some cool water from the basin, then changed his clothes. They weren't much cleaner than the last pair, but at least they didn't stink of vomit.
As he plopped down on his bed, he pulled out his journal and flipped to the last page he wrote on. And what he saw put a permanent blush on his face.
—
June 2, 1899
Damn it, can't I be alone with Mary-Beth for more than a few minutes? I'd give anything for a night with her. She's so beautiful and smart. I love her–
I'm sick of Bill and his desire to castrate that O'Driscoll boy. I might just use those tongs on him one day if he's not careful…and Micah, what an asshole he is. Now trapped in Strawberry. He's gonna hang for sure.
Damn, it's been a long time since my Pa left for the mountains, why the mountains again? I'm starting to miss him - camp doesn't feel the same without him.
Dutch is gonna lose his mind if he wants to save Micah. First Colter, now this. I hope nothing happens to my Pa or else.
Heh, if it was Hosea giving the orders...Hosea, as old as he is, must know things. He's wise. And old…very old.
E.M
