I made it Pa.

I finally made it.

Looking over the horizon was a field of golden grassy plains. Over the yonder was the red barn I built with my own two hands with some help from Mister Arbogast of course and in turn I built his church — inside the barn were my animals such as some cattle and some horses with most grazing behind the wooden fences. People say horses will go become irrelevant with the advent of them cars, even going the way of the dodo they say. Luckily for us, Horse racing is becoming famous even in the big cities and some rich folks really like riding horses in their free time then maybe sipping some of their alleged champagne right after but I ain't to judge. Behind the barn was the chicken coop, damn foxes came in last week and lost four birds but at least the piglets were left alone — We had a separate shed where all my tools and automobiles are located.

Beecher's Hope, our little ranch wasn't so little no more.

And below me were Ma and Pa with Uncle being a little separated.

Taking away from my thoughts, I heard dirt crunching behind me. I merely glanced to watch my darling; she had blonde hair as gold as the plains, her fur beige like the sands of the west, and her gentle eyes as blue as the morning sky. She always wore that poker face or was it a solemn look? I was never real good at reading people the same way I read books.

"G'dmorning to you." I greeted her as I took a sip of my black coffee.

"Goodmorning love." I heard her groan before leaning back at the fence, "Have you sheered the sheep yet?"

"Not yet, just wanna take things slow for a while." I responded as I returned to my gazing, "Have you milk the cows on your part?"

"Me neither, came looking for you first" I heard her approaching me closer beside me, "You seen my brother around?"

"Nnno, don't see him either. Probably in the church kneeling for his morning prayers."

"You pray, husband?"

"Not anymore, sadly." If God is real, then he is one cruel maker but I'm not gonna let her brother hear that sorta blasphemy, "You pray?"

"Sometimes." She looked over at the horizon when she said that, always that distant look. The look, half if not, most of my comrades would have during my service in the Great War — I mean my first time witnessing death made me distraught when I watched Pa kill those men but now after all those times during the last days of the Wild West and the Mexican Revolution, killing a man felt like a chore compared to back then at Strawberry. I always wondered if they're the crazy ones or I am.

"Well, ain't that beautiful? An agnostic with a devout brother married to a heretic." I chuckled at my own crude joke and glanced back hoping for what I was looking for.

There it was, that small smile. She's real cute if her lips even slightly curved upwards, I always try my best to lighten her melancholic mood.

"How's my comrade and his squire?"

"Viktor suffered only scratches and he's by the porch cleaning his trench gun, Mordecai is still in the guest room with his left arm bandaged but nothing to serious."

"That's about it? I heard there was a bit of a — commotion." I smirked a little.

An exhausted sigh breathed out of her, "He's a fully grown adult who's still afraid of needles."

My parents must be rolling in their graves, their son talking about ranching for one second then about their son housing criminals and partaking in the alcohol business. Screw the government, anything to spite them after what they had taken from me.

"He would not survive a day in the trenches." I maintained my smile before taking my gloved hand with her.

We took a stroll downhill and I felt her grip tighten on our way down, I looked at her again to see her blue eyes staring back at mine so I responded by leaning towards her lips and giving each other a chaste kiss. I did not miss her blush much to her well-hidden dismay, once we reached the bottom I heard the shrill of my lil' two goblins; Jake and Jane.

"Pa!" My fraternal twin children went and hugged my legs, making me laugh out loud. Jake had his mother's beige fur but my brown eyes, and on his head was a newsboy cap. Jane had my light brown fur color but her mother's blue eyes and golden hair tied into twin pigtails.

"Slow down, cowpokes!" Giggles came from both kids as I tried taking long strides, "Woa-hoah there! You kids sure are heavy, heavier than Mister and Missus Snortles!"

"No, we're not!" Jake chuckles as he looked up to me.

"Yeah, Pa! We know you lying!" Jane giggled at me and mirrored her twin brother.

"Oh? Am I lying if I was a big bad coyote that's about to eat you?!" I immediately took hold of Jake and lifted him up to my face to then started blowing on his belly.

"STAHP! I'M GONNA DIE, PA! BAHAHAHA!"

"You're next lil' piggy!" I 'threatened' Annie as I put down my boy on the dirt — His sister finally let go of my leg and started running back to the porch while screaming in 'terror', running inside the house with Jake tailing behind her. I look behind me and there it is, her small smile — that's three in a row.

On the porch sitting on the bench is the only tiger-looking cyclops currently cleaning his 'Germ Cleaner' as I like to call, "Children, huh? How's your girls?"

"Doing alright." Viktor answered as his remaining was focused on his gun.

"Good-good," I nodded as I took a leg up on the step with my forearma resting on the knee and adjusted my Pa's hat on my head, "How's the job then?

"Not great, not terrible." The gruff man simply answers.

"I heard you stick up a truck from a rival."

"Yes."

"Hmm."

Damn, Viktor! You always were dull with conversations, made me bored out of my mind in those trenches to the point I sought that whistle blow whether from our officer or the krauts — The only thing that made it bearable was that one British soldier, Bobby Bastion was his name. Damn the way he got killed, on the 11th month of the 11th day on 10:59 am a bullet went through his helmet. Poor bastard.

"Well, I leave it to ya' then."

I finished our moot conversation and went inside my home before glancing back to my wife conversing with Viktor, those two were always kindred spirits relating to the war. I never shared their perspective so I let my darling at least share with the pain to my comrade, it's not healthy for both to sulk alone. Continuing my steps was my familiar home, I made major adjustments since when it was founded by Pa; the first floor kept much of the original layout but with more rooms after the expansion, the second floor was a definite major change to not only an attic but added extra rooms for the children and Abelard, the basement is where my wife's mortician's lab is located.

I turned right to face a door, the guest room or my room used to be.


Pain — or specifically a headache is what he felt, some nights of sleep are hard to wake up from but just equally it is hard to sleep through the pain too. It's essentially a gamble after he does a job to which he is getting used to, he weakly tried lifting his head up but his vision was still blurry as ever no thanks to the godray's barely being blocked by the curtains.

Annoyed, Mordecai turned to his right to find a hanging portrait of a fish… Actually there were more portraits such as a landscape and a serpent. Realizing that he was not in his room, Mordecai started scanning the whole room from left to right; first was a wooden cabinet with a mirror and some posters at the wall, then a globe and next to it was a box with books & a birdcage on top, tennis rackets on the wall and a floor lamp, in front of the bed was a desk filled with items he does not nor need to understand, above the desk is a fish mount and above that was a clock.

On the floor was a carpet with three Stars of David shapes, reminding Mordecai of his heritage.

The creaking door jolted his ears and watched a brown-furred face peer from the door before opening completely and closed behind by the man, the man appears to be your typical country hick and maybe even a cowboy from all those dime stories he read as a child. His grey cowboy hat had a black belt with silver rings wrapped around the base as a single feather stuck out, the figure wore black boots that tuck his black slacks; his black vest was not even buttoned up and showed his grey half-button shirt with sleeves ending on leather gauntlets, the hands wore black gloves fitting for those that worked in a ranch.

"Sleep well?" The man asked him.

"It is sufficient, Mister?"

"Roberts— Marston, Jack Marston."

"What was that?" Mordecai raised a brow from the interruption.

"You understand, had to use fake names when you're in the illegal business." Mister Marston gestures his hand in a pshaw.

"Where am I?" Mordecai asked he scanned the room once more.

"You're in my old room now turned into a guest room." Jack opened his arms wide as if to show off his former resting place, "As you can tell from the posters and other things among here."

"How quaint… yet disorganized." the black feline utters in disgust.

"I prefer the term, homely." The cowboy responded less welcomely.

Mordecai tried moving but immediately flinched from the pain he felt in his bandaged left arm, this made Jack huff in annoyance.

"Careful now, boy. I don't want you getting hurt more for being a stiff neck."

"I am not a stiff neck." Heller scrounges his snout in offense.

"Talk like one, sit like one, math equates you being one."

Mordecai could only growl before standing up and leaving the room with Jack Marston tailing behind him. It was indeed a homely place on the walls having wallpaper from what he could analyze from the intricate patterns, to his right was the living room/space that had a piano on the corner, and to his left was the dining space due to the tables and chairs.

"Have a seat, sir. We're having eggs and bacon." the man behind him says before pulling a seat on the short end of the table, signifying Jack as the head of the house.

"No, thank you but I'm only taking the eggs as I am faithfully staying kosher." Mordecai kindly refuses before taking on the other end of the table.

"Sorry about that, didn't know you were Jewish." Marston apologizes as he took off his hat and let it hang on the back rest.

"No offense taken as I still appreciate your kind hospitality." the Jewish cat assures the head man.


I took a mental note of that detail if this Atlas' fresh recruit starts being a regular patient here from now on, I smelled the delicious goodness coming from the kitchen and listened to that oil cracking and frying — I see my children started coming here and taking their seats next to Mister Heller. If I remember Elsa's account of him, Jake took my left side and Jane took my right. Soon I see my darling carrying our meals and setting them down.

Once she came to my turn, we both leaned into each other for a quick peck before Elsa taking a seat on my right. Next was her brother Abelard taking a seat opposed to her which is right of mine.

"Good morning to you too, Papa Abelard." I greeted with a cheeky tone.

"Please don't call me that in private and in front of this young man," Minister Abelard spoke that one with more bite much to my amusement, "It already dours my morning further knowing the fact you're my brother-in-law and we are breakfasting together with a ruffian next to my niblings."

"A fancy ruffian, ain't that right Mister Mordecai?"

"Sir, if my presence displeasures you all I would—" Mordecai was about to stand.

"—Do no such thing, I insist." I interrupted him to which the kid slowly sat back in.

Abelard growled to my right just before Viktor came to our dining table carrying his own breakfast plate in our hand and a fork in the other, eating while standing.

"You okay there, big man?" I asked him, "I could stand and let you sit, you boys did have a rough day."

"No, I prefer this vay." Eyepatch bluntly answers me.

"Suit yourself."

"Ahem. Graces?"

Abelard coughs to get my attention so all of us, except for Viktor who merely closes his eye, held our hands in a ring but one little problem — our Jewish guest.

"Pa, why is he not joining our prayers?" Jane asked so innocently, she's not ready nor am I ready to lay down about this world.

"Well you see, niece… um…" Abelard was loss for words on how to word this nicely for her and her twin.

"It seems we have a conundrum," Mordecai took his plate and stood from his chair, "It's alright, I shall eat in the guest room in peace." He assures us all before leaving immediately, not even for me to utter a syllable.

"Damn…" I muttered to myself, "Well, looks like the seat is free of use for you, Viktor."

Viktor simply nodded and took where Mordecai used to be and link our hand chains together and continued, "Bless us o' lord and these thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy bounty through Christ our Lord, Amen."

Finally, we started dining as I took in those delicious eggs and the crunch of that crispy bacon. I did notice the upset face of my little daughter as she have not touch her food yet but instead kept looking at my old room where Mordecai is supposedly eating.

"What's wrong, pumpkin?" I asked her quietly but I already knew what is bugging in her mind.

"Why didn't Mister Mordecai join our graces? I thought everyone should do our graces before eating, that's what Uncle Abelard said."

"Well, you see, pumpkin. Some people believe in different things and he simply doesn't believe the way most of us do."

"So he's bad? A blasphemer?"

"No, no!" I chuckled nervously, damn Abelard need to cool off on his fire, "They may be different but they ain't bad." at least this is one of the few good things I learned from Uncle Dutch.

"Oh!..." She beamed at me before beaming down in confusion, "...I don't get it."

"Like Robin Hood, uh sort of?" I tried reasoning but I personally felt like I'm stretching a bit far here.

"Oh! Like more complicated bad and good?"

"Close I guess…" I just sighed out in relief and exhaustion.

I'm not really good at this religion thing, I never really tried picking it up even though I read the Bible a lot of times for my Momma ever since Reverrend Swanson left the Van der linde gang. I prefer keeping it simple, bad people do bad things, good people do good things, people are a mish-mash and bad ones need killing no matter which side of the law they are on.

"Astounding explanation." Abelard rolled his eyes.

"I saw you fumbling your words, at least I made a somewhat coherent explanation." I'm never going to see eye-to-eye with this old man.

"Please, Brother…" My darling to my right pleased to the lion of feline that is her brother who merely quiet down and continued eating. Now she turned to me, "So, anything in your mind, love?"

"I was thinking of renovating our ranch, specifically the outermost wooden fences to be replaced with barbed wire." I explained as I ate my breakfast, "Since I met a few bad folks trying to graze their cattle on our land."

"Only the outer layer?" Elsa prodded more to which I obliged.

"Sure thing, only the outer layer since I heard cattle get wounded by barbed wire and often die so I'll leave those inside the layer to be wooden."

"If you have problem, I can fix it for you." Viktor chimes in with his limited English words of support, giving me an amused exhale.

"I just might, old friend. "

"Please leave the violence from the children." Abelard growled at Viktor.

"It's funny, y'know? Folks back then made fun of my Ma and Pa for buying this land, said it was poor land but now? They say it's good land and we even got other ranchers coming here trying to feed on our land." I chuckled without amusement as I took a swig of my coffee, "Now these folks trying to reap what I worked for, my Pa may had been an out—"

I paused to catch myself, me and my big mouth. I love you Ma and Pa but you understand that the life you live ain't honest, I can't have my kids be stupid like me — to be enamored by your life no thanks to my books but most specifically Uncle Dutch. Now I'm just a secret outlaw and Misters like Viktor and Mordecai are just uncles who needed fixing if they was injured.

"Sorry, I was 'bout have a father tirade. This is breakfast, this should be a good time to eat and talk good and all."


After that, it went swimmingly thankfully. We talked a few things about our ranch with Viktor, Abelard discussing morals and all that jazz, finally we got into a kids' schoolwork; Jane seemed to be the smarter of the two but Jake is the more obedient since he's the one who actually done his homework. Finally, we finished breakfast with me and Elsa accompanying the children to the bath, after that we dressed them and passed them their bags, we said our goodbyes to the kids and watched Abelard ride them to their nursery with our truck.

Once we're alone, we heard Mordecai come out of my old room.

"I suppose we should leave soon, could you please tell me where my pistol is?"

"Sure thing," Took the old satchel of Uncle Morgan from the jacket stand and fished the gun, "Here."

"Thank you," Mordecai holsters his Colt 1911 before adjusting his glasses, "Anything I miss during your breakfast?"

All four of us left the inside of my house and hung by the porch with me pulling a cigarette box sticking a roll between my lips and lighting the end with my matchstick, "What are we supposed to talk about in front of the kids? You filling lead like pin cushions inside of men?"

"I kill women too." He deadpanned

"That ain't the point, so what you guys had done? It was late one in the morning when you folks came here, scaring Abelard half to death when Viktor was bashing on my front door. I heard from Elsa that you was sticking a truck full of tequila."

"Indeed, Atlas sought to have variety in his beverages." The kid explains as he wipes his glasses with his clothing.

"And this concludes with you boys going in guns blazing?"

"The deal beforehand had gone in a disagreement, now Atlas wants to send a message to the smugglers that he is not a man to be conned over."

"Now you're here crawling on my porch bloody, limping like a bleeding elk." I chuckled without humor, I pull my cigarette away and blew off my smoke, "Where do Atlas even find you? You're too young to be a triggerman."

"I'm old enough to shoot." The black cat took offense to that.

"Anyone can shoot but can you shoot straight?"

"Yes." He really did take offense, growling too.

"Then how you got shot?"

I saw Cyclops came forward to answer for his underling, "Man pulls gun faster than Mordecai, hit Heller on the arm but he managed to shoot smuggler on head."

"Ah, you was slower thas' all?"

"I suppose so." I watched Mordecai glumly admitted.

"Then come by here in Beecher's Hope whenever you can so I can teach you how to shoot farther and draw faster than most men," I flick off my finished cigarette butt as I pat the two on the back before coiling my arms around their napes, "Now tell Mister May that if he needs tequila I got connections down in Mexico, maybe I can put a good word for him and arrange a meeting directly from the source. How's that sound fellers?

"That would be a great boon for us, sir." Mordecai brightened up a bit.

"Good, now you boys need to git before any lawmen start snooping my ranch."


The ride on the dirt road was quiet with noise coming from the car engine and the occasional bumps that may ruin the symmetry, Viktor was driving while Mordecai looked out the window to watch those golden plains blow pass by the wind. From the distance was a brown blotch that he could barely analyse, squinting his eyes to find them to be buffalos feeding on the grass.

"Nice country, alvays watch the fields every time I go to Beecher's Hope." Viktor smiles slightly while his remaining eye keeps on the road.

"I agree," Mordecai responded quietly as he watched a few buffalo moving, "This Jack Marston character seems rather peculiar."

"In vhat vay?"

"Seems rather nice, unusually nice, especially for those residing in the country. Most people have a measured disdain for city dwellers, especially the old man from the general store."

"Ah, Jack is alvays nice to our comrades during the war. They call him 'The Jack of all trades'."

"Why is that?" Now glancing back at Viktor, piquing his curiosity.

"Because give him any gun, he shoot good with the gun; he is sniper, trench sweeper, machine gunner, horse rider, night raider, even archer and plane crasher at one time when he sniped the Blood Baron from the air."

"Hu—What! He's the one that killed the ace pilot?!"

"He is, he won many medals after the war."

"Then how come I have not seen any of his accomplishments? No displays or anything to show off."

"I do not know vhy he hides them, only thing I know that he hates government in one time when he was drunk. He alvays kept to himself about his history."

Then suddenly he watched men on open roof cars wielding guns rode passed by them much to their surprise, these men carry double barrel shotguns and firing them off at the buffalos. The peaceful beasts cried in pain as one by one fell down to the felines' weaponry, the men cheered with each every kill and only leaving the corpses.

"Damn, pohani!" Viktor curses but did nothing and kept on driving by, "This place back then when I first visit was wild, like Wild West from books — Jack is a relic from a dead time. At battle I saw him holding two pistols and holding off german attack by himself, made me realize vhat he vas…"

Mordecai did not make a sound as he listened intently to his partner, ignoring the cries of the beasts and fire of men.

"...He is the last Gunslinger."