Chapter 25: The Price of Pain and Grief
On the other side of Moo Mesa in Dog Town, young Brandon Wishford had been sleeping in his bed, awakened by a nightmare. "Ahh!" Brandon had woken up in his room from what he had thought was a terrible nightmare. Although it may be unrelated to what happened in High Wind Gulch, it might have been... "Poppa... POPPA!"
"Son!?" Austin had rushed into the room, wondering what has gotten Brandon in such a panicky mood... "What's wrong? What happened? Are you hurt?"
"N-No... I... ... I had a... ... bad dream." Brandon panted.
"What was it?" Austin sat beside his son on the bed.
"There were... so many cloaked figures. However... I saw two different groups. One with beaks, and one... with snouts." Brandon may have referred to the Black Hoods, and of course, another cult. The second cult he saw in his nightmare were a bunch of hooded wolves, who learned the path of immortality by all means necessary. One of these members let out a high, cold, and cruel laugh, followed by a menacing howl... It would be the wolf that would try to ruin Brandon's family one day. ... Clawe. "The other group... They scare me, Pa... They scare me..."
"Oh, son..." Austin sat down with Brandon on his bed. "It's okay to be scared, but sometimes you have to stand up to your fears. I was afraid at most times too, y'know... That's why I was motivated to protect both you and your Ma. Fear drives us, well, not like a stagecoach, but it drives us to DO things for other people... That way, we're still helpin' each other out."
" But, Pa..." Brandon trembled in his voice as he asked. "... what if our fears eventually... Wh-What if they... ... they kill us?" He was on the verge of tears. "I don't wanna die being afraid, Poppa..." Brandon sniffles a little, experiencing a vision of his parents dying from a large fire that one of the wolves set up. It was eerie for the young collie to think about death during the same time of Avery's tragedy... "I really don't, I..."
"Brandon, listen... You won't die from your fears. You'll live through 'em. Can you do that for me, kid? Please...?" Austin hugged his son for comfort.
He looked up to his father, yet still somberly. Brandon was still terrified and timid at this young age, and it may still take hold of him in his later years. However, he had a long way to go for being brave... He replies with a simple nod, later hugging Austin with both arms. The young collie teared up and quietly sobs onto his chest, but his father would still let him know that everything would be alright. But, even if it was alright on a simple horse farm in Dog-Town, was it really alright in High Wind Gulch? The answer was very simple... No, it was not. Not anymore.
The entrance to the tunnels grew closer, and the sounds of life within grew more distant with every step they took. Harmony felt a lump in her throat as they approached Becky's secret school, the place where so much hope had been born, now about to become a stage for despair. She had never felt so helpless, so torn between her duty to protect the town and her love for her friend's family.
They dismounted their horses, and Clarence gently lifted Avery from the saddle. Becky, hearing the commotion, rushed out of the schoolhouse, her eyes searching for her husband's familiar silhouette. When she saw Clarence carrying Avery's body, the color drained from her face, and she let out a mournful cry that echoed through the gulch. Baron, playing nearby with the other children, heard his mother's anguish and sprinted towards them, his feathers fluttering in the moonlight.
"Pa?" he chirped; his voice filled with hope that shattered as he saw the stillness in Avery's eyes. Becky collapsed beside her husband, her sobs tearing through the night as she cradled him in her arms.
"No," she wailed, her voice raw with pain. "Not like this. Not now, after all we've been through." The children of the secret school gathered around, their faces a mix of confusion and horror as they realized what had transpired.
Baron's eyes grew wide with shock and disbelief, his tiny frame shaking as he took in the sight of his father's lifeless form. He didn't understand, didn't want to understand. But the truth was stark and unavoidable, written in the lines of grief etched on Becky's face and the quiet determination in Clarence's eyes.
The law birds and townsfolk gathered around, the news of Avery's fate spreading through the tunnels like a dark cloud. Whispers of disbelief turned to cries of anger as Becky's wails of despair grew louder.
Harmony knelt beside Baron, her arm around his shoulders, offering what little comfort she could. "Your pa was a hero," she whispered, thick with tears. "He didn't go quietly, and he'll always be with us, holdin' on to his beliefs."
Becky's wails grew softer, the weight of Avery's body in her arms a stark reminder of the emptiness that now filled her heart. She looked up at Clarence, her eyes pleading. "Why?" she managed to ask through her tears. "Why did they do this?"
Clarence's expression was grim as he recounted their failed rescue attempt, the betrayal of the townsfolk, and Edward's ultimate revelation. The words hung in the air, heavy with the burden of truth and loss. The law birds and townsfolk exchanged glances, their anger simmering just beneath the surface. The children, who had gathered closer, stared wide-eyed and silent, their games forgotten.
"We'll hold a proper funeral for Avery," Clarence announced, his voice firm and resolute. "At dawn, in the cemetery. It's the least we can do for a man who gave his life for our freedom." His words were met with solemn nods from the adults and the children. The gravity of the situation was not lost on anyone. The night air grew thick with a shared sense of responsibility and a determination to honor their fallen friend.
Baron's eyes, filled with tears, searched his father's still form. He approached slowly, his legs trembling with a mix of fear and grief. When he reached Avery, he reached out with a tentative wing and gently touched the lifeless cheek. The warmth he had known all his life was gone, replaced by a coldness that seemed to seep into his very soul. He leaned closer, his beak quivering, and whispered, "Pa? Please wake up. This ain't real, is it?"
In his heart, he hoped it was all a terrible dream, that when he opened his eyes again, Avery would be standing over him, chuckling at the scared look on his face. But as he gazed into his father's unseeing eyes, the reality crashed down on him like a collapsing mine. This wasn't a nightmare he could wake up from. This was his new reality, one where the person who had always been there to protect and guide him was gone. The thought was unbearable, a yawning chasm that threatened to swallow him whole.
Baron's tears fell like raindrops on Avery's dusty vest, each one a silent testament to the love and admiration he had for the buzzard who had been his hero. His father had taught him to ride, shoot, and always stand up for what was right. And now, as the weight of his grief settled upon his tiny shoulders, he knew he had to carry on that legacy. The thought was as terrifying as it was comforting. If only he had the power to bring him back to life.
Harmony's arm was a warm, comforting presence around his quaking shoulders, her own eyes filled with tears. She had known Avery almost as long as she had known Baron, and the loss was palpable. But she knew that she couldn't let her grief overwhelm her. Not now. There was a town to save and a friend to avenge.
The townsfolk, their faces a canvas of grief, began to disperse, heading back to their own lives and their own worries. They had to prepare for the funeral at dawn, the final goodbye to a man who had stood tall against the tyranny of the Nosedives. Reverend Badger-field, his own eyes red and puffy from crying, approached Becky with a gentle nod. "Ma'am, I'll be honored to give the eulogy," he said in a solemn voice. Becky looked up at him, her eyes swimming with unshed tears.
Baron's sobs grew louder, his body convulsing with the force of his grief. "No, no, no!" he wailed, his cries echoing through the deserted streets. Harmony tightened her embrace, her own eyes brimming with tears as she watched the heartbreaking scene unfold. The other children looked on; their innocence shattered by the harsh reality of the world beyond the safety of their makeshift school.
Becky, unable to hold back her own pain any longer, scooped Baron into her arms, holding him tightly to her chest as she stood up. His tears stained her dress, the fabric darkening with every drop. "Oh, my baby," she soothed, her voice thick with sorrow. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." The law birds, their faces etched with lines of weariness and determination, gathered around Avery's lifeless body, each one paying their respects with a solemn nod.
The night stretched on, a seemingly endless tapestry of grief and shock. Harmony helped Becky and the law birds prepare Avery's body for the funeral, their movements mechanical and filled with silent tears. The children of the secret school, their games abandoned, watched from a distance, their young eyes reflecting the horror and injustice of the world they were inheriting. It was a sight that would be etched into their memories forever, a stark reminder of the price of freedom and the cost of standing up to tyranny.
As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, painting the sky with a palette of mourning grays and somber blues, the townsfolk of High Wind Gulch gathered in the cemetery. The air was thick with the scent of sagebrush and the quiet sobs of those who had come to pay their respects to Avery Buzzard. The makeshift stage, constructed from the very same wood that Avery had used to build the school, groaned under the weight of the casket and the sorrow it contained. Reverend Badger-field stood before them, his fur bristling with emotion as he opened his worn leather-bound bible.
His voice, usually filled with warmth and comfort, was now tinged with anger and resolve. "We are gathered here today to bid farewell to a man who stood for justice and love," he began, his eyes sweeping over the crowd. "A man who knew that the true measure of a creature is not the color of its feathers, but the size of its heart." The words hung in the air, a stark contrast to the silence that had settled over the gulch.
The sun's early rays cast long shadows across the cemetery, the light playing upon the faces of the mourners. Each one bore the weight of their own grief and the fear that their own loved ones might be next. Yet, in the face of such sorrow, there was a glimmer of something stronger, a flame of rebellion that Edward Nosedive had unwittingly fanned with his cruel act.
"Our dearly departed, Avery Buzzard," the Reverend began, his voice carrying over the whispering wind. "He was a man who knew the meaning of sacrifice. He knew that love and justice are not the privileges of a chosen few but the birthright of every creature that walks this earth." His words were met with solemn nods from the gathered crowd, many of whom had felt the sting of the Nosedives' prejudice. The sun inched higher, casting a warm glow over the mourners, as if the heavens themselves were trying to ease their pain. The air was still, almost as if it too held its breath, respecting the sacredness of the moment. "Avery's soul," the Reverend continued, his voice growing stronger, "now rides with the Spirit of the West. May he find peace in the great beyond and may his legacy be our guiding light in these dark times."
The crowd murmured in agreement, heads bowed in respect as the Reverend's words painted a picture of Avery riding into the sunset, joining the great heroes of the Wild West. The vision was a poignant one, offering a small spark of comfort in the sea of sorrow. Becky clutched at Baron, her eyes never leaving the casket as if afraid that if she did, Avery would truly be gone forever. Clarence stood beside them, his hand resting on Becky's shoulder, a silent promise of support and friendship in the face of unimaginable loss.
The cemetery was a stark reminder of the brevity of life and the tenacity of the spirit. The tombstones, some old, some new, each had a story to tell. They stood as silent sentinels, witnesses to the lives and battles of those who had come before. The wind whispered through the tall grass, carrying the echoes of the Reverend's prayers as they were sent skyward.
Baron, his eyes swollen and red from crying, watched as the townsfolk began to disperse. He knew that life would never be the same again. His pa, the strong, jovial figure that had loomed so large in his life, was now reduced to a memory, a whisper in the desert breeze. Becky's grip on his hand was tight, almost painful, but he didn't protest. He needed the warmth, the reassurance that he wasn't alone. He didn't care if his pa used to punish him once in a while, he loved him dearly just as he loved everyone else.
Looking around her, each headstone was a silent sentinel of forgotten dreams. Becky, her voice trembling with emotion, turned to Clarence. "I can't leave him here," she whispered, her eyes never leaving the casket. "Not like this, not without me and Baron." Her words were a desperate plea, a prayer to the universe to somehow undo the tragedy that had befallen them.
Clarence nodded solemnly, understanding the depth of Becky's pain. "We'll get through this, Becky. Avery's spirit will live on through you and Baron," he said, his own eyes reflecting the sorrow that seemed to pervade every corner of the cemetery.
Harmony, her heart heavy with the weight of her friend's loss, took a step closer to Becky. "You ain't alone," she offered, her voice a gentle reminder of the support that surrounded them.
"Thank you, sweetheart," Becky replied, her eyes never leaving the casket. "But there's somethin' I need to do." The words hung in the air, a cryptic hint of a plan unspoken.
Harmony and Clarence exchanged worried glances, the gravity of Becky's statement weighing on them both. Clarence spoke first, his voice low and steady. "Becky, we're with you, no matter what. You can't be bearin' this burden alone."
Becky took a deep breath, her grip on Baron's hand tightening. "I know," she said, her voice quavering. "But I need to... to clean up some things before we leave. It's all I can do to keep his memory alive." The two friends nodded solemnly, understanding that grief could manifest in strange and solitary ways.
Baron, feeling the warmth of Harmony's embrace and the comforting pat on the back from Clarence, knew that he had friends who cared about him, friends who were willing to stand by his side through this tumultuous storm of emotions. Yet, his heart felt as heavy as the casket that now lay before them. He didn't want to leave his pa here in this cold, unforgiving land, but he also knew that he had to be strong for his ma.
Becky, with a steely determination, thanked Clarence and Harmony for their support but insisted that she needed to stay a while longer. "I'll clean up a few things," she said, her voice shaky but firm. "I want to make sure Avery's things are taken care of before we go home." Baron knew his ma was trying to keep busy, to keep her mind from the unbearable ache of losing his pa. He didn't argue, just nodded and watched as she took a step back, her eyes scanning the horizon as if searching for a piece of Avery's spirit to take with her.
Clarence and Harmony looked at each other, concern etched into their faces. They knew Becky was in pain, her sorrow a palpable force that seemed to cling to her like a dark shroud. Clarence placed a gentle hand on Baron's shoulder, his eyes filled with empathy. "We'll be here for you, son," he said, his voice a warm embrace. "Whenever you're ready, we'll make sure she gets the help she needs."
Harmony squeezed Becky's hand, her eyes brimming with tears. "Ma'am, you can lean on us. I'll be here."
Becky managed a weak smile. "I know, Harmony. And I'm grateful for that." She took a shuddering breath, her gaze shifting back to the cemetery. "But I think it's best if Baron and I go home now. We have... things to take care of."
The walk back to their house was a silent procession, each step feeling heavier than the last. Baron trailed behind his ma, his heart feeling as if it had been crushed by the weight of the world. The town of High Wind Gulch, once a place filled with hope and dreams, now felt like a prison of painful memories.
Clarence and Harmony watched them go, their expressions a mirror of the sadness that filled the air. They exchanged worried glances, knowing that Becky's path ahead was fraught with peril. The loss of a loved one was never easy, but losing one so suddenly, so violently, had the power to shake the very foundations of one's soul. They both feared for Becky's mental state, for the darkness that could easily consume her.
Two weeks had passed since Avery's death, and High Wind Gulch remained eerily still. Edward Nosedive had vanished into the desert along with the Black Hoods and Otto Bulloney, leaving behind a town in mourning and confusion. The townsfolk had hoped that with their departure, the stain of fear and prejudice would be lifted, but it remained, a haunting reminder of what once was. Becky, in her grief, had turned to a bottle of whiskey that she kept hidden in the house, the amber liquid becoming her only solace as she grappled with the emptiness that Avery's absence had left behind.
The house, once a beacon of warmth and love, had become a shadow of its former self. Dust danced in the beams of light that shone through the windows, untouched dishes piled up in the sink, and the once vibrant fabric Becky had used to decorate the walls now hung limply, as if in mourning themselves. The silence was deafening, filled only with Becky's occasional sobs that she tried to muffle.
Baron had taken on more responsibilities around the house, trying to keep everything as it was when Avery was there. But the chores and routines only served as painful reminders of the void left in their lives. He'd find his ma in the study, bottle in hand, staring at the faded photographs of their wedding day, her eyes glassy and distant.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, orange glow over the desolate town, Becky's sobs grew louder. Baron, unable to ignore the sound any longer, approached her tentatively. "Ma," he whispered, his heart aching at the sight of her pain. "Ma, please, you gotta stop this."
Becky looked up at him, her eyes bloodshot and swollen from days of crying. "Baron," she said, her voice hoarse from the whiskey. "You don't understand." She took a shaky sip, the liquid sloshing in the bottle like her unsteady emotions. "Your pa was..." she choked out, "everything to me."
Baron's heart clenched at the sight of his ma's suffering. He knew words couldn't fill the abyss that Avery's death had left in her heart, but he had to try. "Ma, I know," he said, his voice raw and a lump in his throat. "But Pa wouldn't want to see you like this." He took a step closer, his hand outstretched, trying to gently coax the bottle away from her. "Let's get you some water, clean up around here, maybe talk?"
Becky's eyes focused on her son, a spark of something akin to anger flaring within them. "You don't know, Baron," she snarled, her words a whip crack in the quiet room. "You don't know what it's like to have your whole world taken from you." She took a deep, shuddering breath, the whiskey bottle clutched to her chest like a lifeline. "But you will." The venom in her voice was unlike anything he'd ever heard from her before, and it sent a shiver down his spine.
Baron took a step back, his heart racing. "Ma, I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I just wanna help."
Becky's gaze softened, the anger dissipating as quickly as it had come. She set the whiskey bottle down with a thunk on the desk and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I know you do, son," she said, her voice cracking. "But right now, I just... I just need some time."
Baron nodded, his own eyes filling with tears. "Okay, Ma," he whispered, his voice trembling. "But you can't keep doing this. You gotta... you gotta take care of yourself."
Becky managed a sad smile, reaching out to caress her son's cheek. "I'll be fine, Baron. Just go to bed. You've got school tomorrow. You've got to think about your future."
Baron's heart was heavy, but he knew he couldn't argue with his mother's wishes. With a nod, he turned and shuffled out of the study, his eyes stinging with tears. As he climbed the stairs to his room, he could still hear Becky's muffled sobs, each one a dagger in his soul. He wished he could do something to ease her pain, but he was just a kid.
Once in his room, Baron sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the faded patchwork quilt that Becky had made for him when he was just a baby chick. It was the last thing Avery had given him, a symbol of the love and care that had been ripped from his life. He felt a surge of anger at Edward Nosedive and his hateful ways. He couldn't help but feel that if it weren't for him, his pa would still be here. It was at this point he developed hatred against Edward, Edna, and Edmund, knowing they were responsible for everything, and he would never forgive them. Baron knew that he had to be strong for his ma, but the weight of his grief and anger was too much to bear. He lay down, pulling the quilt over his head, trying to shut out the world and the pain it had brought them. Yet, sleep eluded him, the whispers of the desert wind carrying Becky's sobs through the walls.
The next day at school, Baron found it difficult to concentrate. The other children whispered about the recent events, casting him sympathetic glances that only served to make him feel more alone. Harmony was there, though, sitting next to him, a silent beacon of comfort and strength. She knew his pain, having lost his pa in a terrible way. She didn't need words to express her empathy; her presence was enough. The teacher, a kind owl named Miss Hoots, did her best to maintain order and normalcy in the classroom, but the pall of sadness was thick. Baron's thoughts drifted to the night before, the echo of his ma's sobs haunting him. He glanced over at Harmony, her feathers ruffled with concern as she tried to pay attention to the lesson. He knew he couldn't keep this burden to himself anymore.
As the school bell rang, signaling the end of the day, Baron grabbed his satchel and practically flew to Harmony's side. "Hey," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You wanna come over after school? I need to tell you something."
Harmony's eyes searched his face, noticing the dark circles and the tension in his shoulders. "Of course," she said, her voice gentle. "Is everything okay?"
Baron swallowed hard. "No," he admitted. "Ma's not doing well. And I don't know how to help her."
Harmony nodded solemnly. "You don't have to go through this alone," she said, squeezing his hand. "Let's go to my place. Maybe talkin' to Pa and Ma will help."
Baron's eyes widened, hope sparking within them like a flicker of light in the darkness. He nodded fervently. "Yes," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you, Harmony."
They made their way to the HawkTail Ranch, the journey feeling both endless and over in a heartbeat. The moment they stepped onto the property, Baron felt a sense of peace that had been absent in his life since Avery's execution. The scent of freshly cut hay and the distant whinny of horses soothed his frayed nerves. Clarence was in the corral, working with a young colt, his movements fluid and calm.
The sight of the sheriff brought a rush of relief and gratitude to Baron's heart. He'd always looked up to Clarence, not just because he was Harmony's pa, but because of his unwavering sense of justice and the kindness that seemed to radiate from him. Clarence noticed their arrival and walked over, his eyes filled with understanding as he took in Baron's disheveled appearance and the pain etched on the young vulture's face.
"Baron," Clarence said, his voice a gentle rumble. "What's got you so worked up, son?"
Baron took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. "It's Ma," he said finally. "Since Pa..." he couldn't bring himself to say the words. "Since Pa's been gone, she's been drinkin'." His voice cracked. "And she said some things... things that scared me." He became silent and bursting into tears.
Clarence's gaze hardened, and he placed a comforting arm around Baron's trembling shoulders. "We'll figure it out," he assured him. "But first, you need to tell us everything."
Baron's tears fell like rain onto the dry, cracked earth as he recounted Becky's descent into despair. Harmony listened, her eyes glistening with tears, her hand clutching Baron's tightly in a silent show of solidarity. Ruby, who had been working in the kitchen, paused in her tasks to wipe away a stray tear of her own. She knew the pain Becky was feeling all too well, having someone she cared for to a similar fate.
Clarence's face grew solemn as he heard the full extent of Becky's suffering. "Baron," he said, his voice gruff but filled with kindness. "You can't blame yourself for your ma's grief. She's hurtin' just like we all are." He paused, stroking his beak thoughtfully. "But you're right, son. We can't let her go down that road. It's a dangerous path, and it'll only lead to more heartache."
"I'm scared, it's like she ain't my ma no more," Baron sobbed, unable to stop the tears from falling. "She's just so mean and harsh...it scares me, not knowin' what she'll do next. I'm afraid to go home, but I don't wanna leave her alone."
Clarence squeezed his shoulder. "You're doin' the right thing, tellin' us. Your ma's grievin', and it's eatin' her up inside. We'll help her through this, together." His eyes met Baron's, filled with a steely determination that made him feel a spark of hope.
Harmony wiped at her own eyes. "Let's go inside and talk to Pa," she said softly. "He'll know what to do."
The three of them walked into the ranch house, the warm, homey scents of Ruby's cooking wrapping around them like a comforting embrace. Clarence led them to the table, his expression a mix of concern and anger. "Ruby," he called, his voice tight. "We got company."
Ruby looked up from her stew pot, her eyes widening at the sight of Baron. She wiped her hands on her apron and rushed over, enveloping him in a fierce hug. "Oh, sweetie," she murmured, holding Baron tight. "It's okay, it's okay."
The warmth of Ruby's embrace was like a balm to his soul. He hadn't felt this safe since before his pa's execution. Harmony's gentle touch on his back and Clarence's strong arm around his shoulders completed the picture of a family he hadn't realized he'd been craving.
As they sat at the dinner table, Clarence spoke with a firm resolve that seemed to cut through the heavy silence. "Becky's in a bad place right now," he said, his eyes never leaving Baron's. "But she loves you more than anything, and she'd never want to cause you pain. She's just lost her way, is all."
Baron nodded, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand. "But what do I do?" he asked, his voice small. "I don't know how to help her."
"First things first," Clarence said, his voice gentle but firm. "Ya can't mend her, partner. But ya can stand by her side. Show her she ain't alone, that folks care 'bout her and want her to be alright."
Baron nodded, feeling the weight of Clarence's words settle in his chest. "But how?"
"Give her time, son," Clarence continued. "And be there for her when she needs ya. Sometimes, just bein' there is the best thing ya can do."
Baron looked up, his eyes searching Clarence's. "But what if she pushes me away? Like she did today?"
Clarence squeezed his shoulder, his gaze filled with understanding. "Sometimes, when folks are hurtin', they lash out. But you can't let that keep you from lovin' her. You just gotta keep tryin', son. And if she don't come 'round, we'll figure out what's best for ya."
Baron felt a lump form in his throat at Clarence's words. He knew that the sheriff had been through his own share of pain, having lost his first wife to the same prejudices that had claimed Avery. "Thanks, Pa Clarence," he murmured, feeling a warmth spread through his chest that seemed to ease the ache a little.
Ruby brought over a steaming plate of food, setting it in front of Baron. "You eat up now," she said firmly. "You're too thin. And we can't have you fallin' apart on us."
Baron nodded, the smell of the food making his stomach rumble despite his grief. He took a tentative bite, surprised by how much it comforted him. It tasted of home, of happier times, and of the love that he'd lost.
As they ate in quiet solidarity, Clarence shared stories of Avery, of his days as a young vulture with a penchant for getting into trouble and a heart full of dreams. The tales were filled with laughter and camaraderie, painting a picture of a man who'd been so much more than just Baron's pa. Avery had been a friend, a hero, a member of this tight-knit community.
"Your pa," Clarence said, thick with emotion, "he was the best ranch hand I ever had the pleasure of knowin'. And a better man, I dare say, than any bird or critter I've come across in this life."
Baron nodded, his throat tight as he took in the words. Clarence had always been there for them, teaching him and Harmony to ride, shoot, and even read the stars. It felt like he was losing his last piece of Avery all over again, but somehow, it also felt like Clarence was filling a void that had been left behind. "Thanks," Baron mumbled, swallowing past the lump in his throat.
After dinner, as the sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows across the ranch, Clarence put on his hat and turned to Baron. "Come on, let's go see Becky." Harmony looked up from her dishes, worry in her eyes, but she said nothing as the two of them headed for the door.
Becky sat in the quiet Buzzard homestead, her eyes glazed over as she stared at a dusty family photograph on the mantle. Avery's warm smile beamed back at her, and she couldn't help but think of all the moments that had slipped through their talons. The knock on the door startled her out of her melancholy. She wiped her eyes quickly, not wanting to be seen in such a state of weakness.
Baron and Clarence stepped inside, their expressions a mix of love and worry. Harmony trailed behind them, her eyes flickering with the same concern. Becky tried to stand, her legs wobbly from the drink, but Clarence was there, his strong arm supporting her. "Becky," he began, his voice firm yet gentle. "We need to talk."
Clarence stepped forward, his voice firm yet filled with care. "Becky, we're all hurting, but this ain't the way to deal with it," he said, gesturing to the bottles scattered across the room. "You've got a son who needs ya, a town that loves ya, and friends who'll stand by ya through thick and thin."
Becky's eyes welled up with tears as she looked at Baron. "I'm sorry," she choked out. "I just miss him so much. It feels like half of me is gone."
Clarence nodded, his own eyes glistening. "We all do," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "But drowning your pain in whiskey ain't gonna bring him back, Becky. It's only gonna drive away what's still left."
Becky looked down at the floor, the guilt and pain etched in the lines of her face. "I know," she whispered, her voice cracking. "But I just... I don't know what else to do. It's like a fog's settled over me, and I can't find my way out." She broke out in tears, sitting on the floor with her knees up to her chin.
Clarence bent down to meet her at eye level, his eyes filled with a warm, gentle understanding. "Becky," he said softly, taking her hand. "Avery's still with you, in here." He tapped his own heart. "And out here." He gestured around the room to the life they'd built together. "But you can't let this grief consume you. You got a son who needs his ma more than anything."
Harmony stepped up beside Clarence, her own hand reaching for Becky's. "And friends who need you, too," she said. "You've taught us so much, Becky. How to be brave, how to stand up for ourselves. Now it's our turn to help you stand up."
Becky's sobs grew louder, the pain in her voice echoing through the small room. "But I've failed," she wailed. "Look at what happened to Avery, to the town. It's all 'cause of me and my kind. Y'all would not be sufferin' like this if weren't for us. Am I supposed to just forget him?"
Baron dropped to his knees beside his mother, his own tears mixing with hers. "Ma, you ain't failed," he said, his voice shaking. "You're the strongest that I've ever known. You and Pa taught me to never let anyone tell me who I am or where I belong."
Clarence nodded solemnly. "You're right, Becky," he said, his voice firm. "You shouldn't forget Avery. Time don't make you do that. But you gotta remember him in a way that makes you both proud. He'd want you to keep on livin', to keep fightin' for what's right."
Baron watched as his mother's shoulders shook with sobs, her grip on their hands tightening. "What if I can't?" she whispered, now picking up the family photograph.
Clarence took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving Becky's face. "If you still love Avery," he said gently, "then you've got to live for him. Baron is a part of Avery that's still here, still breathing. If you hurt him, you're hurtin' yourself and your love for Avery."
Becky looked at the photo in her hand, her grip tightening around the frame. "I do love him," she said, her voice a hoarse whisper. "But it just hurts so much."
Clarence nodded solemnly. "I know it does," he said. "But if Avery was here, right now, what do you think he'd say if he saw you like this?"
Becky's sobs grew quieter as she thought about her husband's wise, calming voice. "He'd tell me to keep my head up," she murmured. "To be strong for our son."
Clarence nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. "That's right," he said gently. "And that's exactly what he'd want from you. From both of us." He looked at Baron, who nodded firmly, his own eyes filled with a newfound determination.
Ruby came over, her eyes red from crying, and handed Becky a handkerchief. "You ain't alone, Becky," she said, her voice trembling. "We're all here for ya, through thick and thin."
Baron took Becky's hand, his gaze never leaving hers. "Ma," he began, his voice cracking, "we've got to keep fighting, for Pa's memory. He'd want us to stand tall and face the world together." He became silent for a moment before he continued. "I need you Ma. Pa would've wanted that."
The room grew still, the only sound Becky's shaky breaths. She looked at her son, at the pain reflected in his eyes, and felt the weight of her grief begin to shift. It was like Clarence and Harmony had punched a hole through the fog of despair that had swallowed her whole. For the first time since Avery's death, she saw the truth in their faces—she wasn't alone. They were all fighting the same battle, each in their own way. Even if she and Baron were still grieving for him, they couldn't just give up now, knowing he wouldn't want that for them. With a sniffle, Becky leaned into Clarence's embrace, feeling the warmth of his feathers and the comfort of his arms around her. She knew he was right; Avery's spirit was in the life they'd built together, in the love they shared, and in the son they'd raised. The thought brought a fresh wave of tears, but these felt different—like the first drops of rain after a long drought, nurturing the seeds of hope buried deep within her.
Baron watched as his mother's shoulders heaved with sobs, feeling his own eyes sting. It had been so long since he'd seen her truly cry, instead of the hollow sobs that accompanied the bottom of a bottle. This was the real Becky, the strong woman he knew she was. And he was determined to help her find her way back. He and Harmony may have only been ten years old, but at their age, a true fighting spirit remained in them with all the others.
Clarence's words had struck a chord in Becky, and she looked up, her eyes swollen and red, but filled with a spark that had been absent for too long. "You're right," she murmured. "Avery would never have wanted this for us." With a tremble in her voice, Becky reached out to her son and her dear friends. "I'm so sorry," she began, her eyes shining with tears. "I've been so lost without him. I know I've pushed ya'll away, and I've let this whiskey fill the void he left."
Ruby took Becky's other hand, her eyes filled with compassion. "Becky," she said, her voice shaky but steady, "We ain't aimin' to judge. We's family, and we's all just tryin' to get through this here mess together."
Harmony nodded in agreement, her grip on Becky's hand tightening. "You don't have to do it alone," she said, her young voice filled with a wisdom beyond her years.
Becky took a shaky breath and met their gazes, one by one. "I know," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I've missed him so much, seein' what happened when you told me the news. I'm sorry I've pushed all of you away." She looked down at the bottle of whiskey she'd been clutching and let it drop to the floor, where it shattered into a hundred pieces—just like her heart had. "I'm sorry for letting this," she gestured to the mess around her, "take over our home. For letting it almost ruin us."
Baron felt his heart swell with love and sadness. "Ma," he said, his voice cracking. "We don't blame ya. We just miss Pa as much as you do." Harmony nodded in agreement, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
Becky looked at each of them, her face a mask of sorrow and regret. "But I should've been stronger," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "I should've been there for you, for all of ya."
Clarence's grip on Becky's hand tightened as he leaned in closer, his eyes filled with understanding. "Becky," he said, his voice gentle yet firm. "You've been as strong as anyone could be. Grief don't care about how tough you are—it hits us all hard, and it ain't about being strong or weak. It's about feelin' the loss and findin' a way to keep going." Ruby nodded in agreement, her own eyes misty.
"You ain't got nothin' to be sorry for," Ruby added, her voice a soft drawl. "We know you're hurtin'. Avery was like a brother to Clarence, and a good neighbor to all of us. But he'd want you to keep your head held high and your heart full of love."
Clarence nodded, his eyes never leaving Becky's. "Ruby's right," he said firmly. "We're all just tryin' to make our way through this. And we're doin' it together." He took a deep breath, his chest puffing out slightly. "Now, Becky, I reckon it's time for you to let go of that guilt. It's just weighin' you down, and it ain't gonna bring Avery back."
Ruby wrapped an arm around Becky's shoulders, pulling her into a warm embrace. "You're a strong woman," she whispered. "And you've got a good son. That's all that matters."
Becky's shoulders trembled as she allowed herself to be held, the words of her friends sinking in. Slowly, she nodded. "Alright," she murmured. "I'll try. For Avery, for Baron, for all of you."
Clarence stood up, gently helping Becky to her feet. "Good," he said. "Now, let's clean up this mess and get you some rest. We've got a lot of work to do come mornin'."
They all set to work, collecting the shards of the whiskey bottle and sweeping away the dust that had gathered during Becky's seclusion. The clinking of glass and the rustle of the broom filled the room, a stark contrast to the silence that had hung so heavily just moments before. The task was mundane, but it felt almost sacred—like they were reclaiming a piece of Becky's soul with each sweep of the floor. Baron and Harmony looked around the small, cluttered house, the evidence of Becky's pain stark against the familiar walls. They moved with quiet determination, not wanting to disturb Becky as she took her first tentative steps toward healing. Clarence took charge, organizing them into a makeshift cleaning brigade that worked together with surprising ease. It was as if the act of cleaning was a balm to their own hearts, a way to express their love and support for Becky without words.
By the time the moon was high in the sky, the house was cleaner than it had been in weeks. The smell of leather and sage filled the room, a faint hint of Avery's presence lingering in the air. Clarence looked around, his eyes proud yet filled with a sadness that hadn't quite disappeared. "This'll do for now," he said, his voice gruff. "But we'll have to give it a proper cleanin' tomorrow."
Becky looked around the room, taking in the fruits of their labor. The house was still small and simple, but it was no longer a prison of despair. "Thank ya'll," she said, her voice still shaky but growing stronger with each passing moment. "I couldn't have done it without ya."
"Now, Becky," Clarence said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, "you're comin' with us to the rebellion. They're gonna be right happy to see you, and they'll be even more thrilled to have you back, fightin' by our sides."
Becky nodded slowly, her eyes taking in the cleaned space. "But what if I ain't ready?" she asked, her voice quivering with a mix of hope and doubt. "What if I ain't the same person they knew?"
Clarence's gaze softened. "You don't have to be the same Becky," he said, placing a comforting wing around her. "You just have to be the best Becky you can be. And I reckon, with a little help from us, that ain't gonna be too hard."
Ruby nodded, her own eyes filled with determination. "You're one of us, Becky," she said. "And we ain't ever gonna let you fall, not while we're still standin'."
Baron took a deep breath, his chest puffing out slightly as he squared his shoulders. "We'll get through this, Ma," he said, his voice firm. "Together."
The group nodded solemnly, their eyes shining with the promise of unwavering support. Harmony looked at Becky, her gaze unwavering. "We're all in this together," she said firmly. "No matter what happens today or tomorrow, we'll keep fighting. And we'll never forget the love we share, not for a second."
Just as Becky was about to respond, the sound of hooves and the jingle of spurs echoed through the night, growing louder with each passing second. The door to the ranch house burst open, and in strode Edward Nosedive and Otto Bulloney, flanked by a dozen soldiers dressed in the town's emblem. The room went still, the only sound the thud of their boots on the wooden floor.
"Becky Buzzard," Edward announced, his voice cold and authoritative. "You're under arrest for conspiring with your husband in the robbery of the High Noon Saloon. And for harboring stolen gold."
The room was frozen, the air thick with tension. Becky's eyes widened in shock, her hand flying to her mouth. "That's a lie!" she managed to choke out, her voice trembling with fear and anger.
Clarence stepped in front of Becky, his own eyes narrowing as he faced the intruders. "On what grounds, Nosedive?" he demanded, low and dangerous.
Edward smirked, his eyes glinting in the moonlight. "On the grounds that your dear friend Avery Buzzard won that gold at a poker game," he said, his voice dripping with contempt. "And it seems it's been missin' from the saloon's safe for quite some time."
Otto Bulloney stepped forward, his chest puffed out like a rooster in a fight. "It's been two weeks since anyone's seen or heard from Avery, Becky," he sneered. "But wouldn't ya know it, the gold showed up right here. Other witnesses even told us that he used cheat cards to steal from the Nosedive family."
Baron's eyes grew wide with disbelief. "That ain't true," he protested, stepping in front of his mother. "Pa was just playing poker that night. It wasn't no robbery! You're a liar!"
Edward's smirk grew wider. "Save your breath, boy," he sneered. "Your pa's a known outlaw. And now, his widow is about to learn the consequences of consorting with thieves."
The soldiers moved closer, their eyes hard and unyielding. Becky took a step back, her heart racing. "But Avery's dead!" she exclaimed. "You killed him! You're a liar and a murderer!"
Edward's smile grew colder. "We all know that's not the whole truth, Becky," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "Your husband was a thief, and now it seems you're just as guilty. You've been hiding that gold from us all along."
The soldiers marched into the barn, their boots clomping on the hard-packed earth. A few moments later, they emerged, one holding a dusty sack that glinted in the moonlight. "We found it, Mayor Nosedive," he called out, the jingle of coins giving Becky's words a hollow ring. The same gold that Avery won at the saloon, which they could not find before and had forgotten about.
"I knew it!" Otto bellowed, his fists clenched at his sides. "You're all a bunch of crooks, just like the Buzzard we sent to the gallows!"
Clarence stepped in front of Becky, shielding her from the accusations. "You ain't takin' Becky nowhere," he growled, his arms spread wide. "You want her, you'll have to go through me!"
"Clarence, no," Becky whispered, her eyes wide with fear. "Don't do it. It ain't worth it."
But Clarence's eyes were ablaze with righteous anger. "You ain't takin' Becky," he said, his voice firm and unyielding. "Not if I have anything to say about it."
"Now, Clarence," Edward said, his tone patronizing, "you know the law. She's been caught red-handed with stolen goods. She'll have a fair trial, and if she's found guilty, she'll be hangin' by dawn. But if the jury's feelin' particularly merciful, she might get a lifetime in the federal prison. Far better than what we could do to her right here, right now."
Baron felt his world crumbling around him as Becky was led away in chains, her shoulders slumped in defeat. Harmony's eyes were wet with tears soaking her face, and even Ruby's usually stoic facade was cracking. Clarence looked at Becky, his eyes filled with pain, but also something else—a burning determination. He turned back to the group, his expression grim. "We're gonna get her out of there," he said, his voice tight. "We're gonna show 'em all the kind of people we really are."
The prison wagon lurched into motion, the horses straining against their harnesses. Baron took off after it, his legs pumping as he shouted for Becky. "MAMA! GIVE HER BACK TO ME! MAMA!"
Harmony grabbed his arm, trying to hold him back, but he was like a wild animal, desperate to be free. "Baron, wait!" she called out, her voice filled with fear and desperation. "It's no use! We'll get her back!"
Baron ignored her, his eyes locked on the retreating wagon. His legs burned with the effort of sprinting after it, his chest heaving with every breath. The dust kicked up by the horses' hooves stung his eyes, turning his tears into salty rivers that streamed down his cheeks. His heart was racing, beating like the wings of a thousand buzzards taking flight, but he couldn't catch up. He could feel the hope slipping away, the injustice of it all too much to bear.
He stumbled, his legs giving out beneath him, and he collapsed to his knees. "Ma!" he screamed, his voice raw and hoarse. "They can't take you away!" The world was spinning around him, a kaleidoscope of despair and anger. Harmony's grip tightened, but he couldn't feel it. All he could feel was the ache in his chest, the emptiness that seemed to swallow him whole. He lost his father and now he was going to lose his mother the same way.
Ruby crouched beside him, her eyes filled with a pain that mirrored his own. "Baron," she said, her voice soft and gentle. "We're gonna get her back, you hear me? We're gonna fight for her, just like she's been fightin' for us."
Baron nodded, his throat too tight for words. Harmony's hand was still on his arm, her eyes filled with a fiery determination that made him feel just a little less alone. Together, they watched the prison wagon disappear into the dusty horizon, swallowed by the darkness of the night.
With Becky in the clutches of the corrupt regime, life at the HawkTail Ranch was filled with tension and fear. Harmony and Clarence did their best to keep Baron's spirits up, teaching him new skills and telling him stories of brave souls who had fought against tyranny before. Ruby tried to keep up appearances, baking cookies and tending to the garden, but the shadows of grief and anger never truly left her eyes.
Meanwhile, the whispers of Becky's arrest reached the ears of the rebellion camped in the canyons outside of town. Falcon McGriff, the hawk renegade, knew that Edward Nosedive and Otto Bulloney were up to no good. He sent out scouts to gather intel, his heart heavy with the thought of Becky, Avery's wife, being used as a pawn in their twisted game. The campfire flickered, casting shadows on the faces of the gathered rebels, their expressions a mix of anger and fear. The Coyote Cutthroats, once a notorious band of secret gamblers and renegades, had become the unlikely heroes of Moo Mesa, fighting for justice and equality in a world that had turned its back on them.
Baron couldn't sit still, pacing back and forth across the dusty ground of the ranch, his thoughts racing. "I can't just let her rot in that prison," he murmured to himself, his fists clenched tight. Harmony watched him, her eyes full of understanding. She knew that feeling all too well—the helplessness that came from watching a loved one being taken away, knowing that the law had turned against them.
Days turned into nights, and nights into days, as Baron lay awake on the stiff bedroll in the HawkTail's spare room. The smells of Becky's cooking and Avery's fiddle playing lingered in the air, but now they only served as painful reminders of what he'd lost. Each bite of food felt like a betrayal, as though he didn't deserve to eat while his mother was suffering. The comforts of the ranch, once a sanctuary, now felt like a prison of their own making. Harmony tried her best to keep his spirits up, bringing him books from Clarence's small but treasured library, telling him tales of the great buzzards of the past who had overcome adversity. But the words did little to dull the ache in his heart. The winds outside howled, echoing the storm within him, and he would often find himself staring out the window at the moon, wondering if Becky could see it too.
One evening, the sound of hoofbeats pierced the quiet night, sending a shiver down Baron's spine. The thudding grew louder, and he leaped to his feet, his heart racing. He rushed out to the porch, his eyes searching the horizon. Then, out of the darkness, emerged Falcon McGriff, his horse lathered with sweat, its eyes wide with exhaustion. Clarence and Ruby were already outside, their faces tight with concern.
"What is it, Falcon?" Clarence called out, his hand resting on the grip of his holstered pistol. Falcon dismounted, his feathers ruffled, and his eyes dark with urgency.
"It's Becky," Falcon said, his voice low and gravelly. "There ain't no trial scheduled. Nosedive and Bulloney had it all planned. They sentenced her to thirty years in the federal penitentiary without even giving her a chance to defend herself."
Baron felt his world tilt on its axis. "What?" he shouted. "They can't do that! That' ain't right!" His fists clenched at his sides, biting into his palms.
"I know, son," Falcon said, his voice heavy. "But that's the way things are right now. They're hiding somethin' alright, and we've gotta get to the bottom of it."
Baron felt his anger boil over. "Why haven't we heard from them? Why are they so quiet?"
Falcon's expression grew grim. "They've gone to ground, boy," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of respect for their cunning. "They know that if Becky gets her day in court, she'll walk free. So, they're keepin' her locked up tight, outta sight, and outta mind. They don't want nobody to know what's really goin' on."
Baron's eyes narrowed. "What do you think they're planning?"
Falcon McGriff, his gaze steadfast, leaned on the railing of the porch. "It's hard to say for certain, but it's clear they're up to no good. They're laying low, keepin' their heads down. They don't want nobody pokin' around, especially with Becky as their hostage. Worse yet is there are those that believe she is a dangerous criminal that should be locked away."
The news of Becky's unjust sentence spread like wildfire through High Wind Gulch, igniting a spark of rebellion in the hearts of the townspeople. They gathered in the dusty streets, their whispers of anger and fear swelling into a roar of protest. Posters with Becky's image and the words "Free Becky Buzzard" were slapped onto the wooden walls of the saloon and general store. The townsfolk, once divided by Edna Nosedive's hateful rhetoric, now stood united in their demand for justice. The protest grew from a small group into a sea of faces, each one holding a candle or a makeshift sign, their voices raised in a chorus that echoed through the canyon. "Free Becky!" they shouted, their calls growing bolder with each passing minute. Harmony's heart swelled with hope as she saw friends and enemies alike standing together, their feathers and fur mingling as they called for Becky's release.
The uprising grew, spilling out of the town square and down the streets, the townsfolk marching to the beat of their own rebellion. Horses whinnied and dogs barked in the distance, as if joining in the call for justice. Baron's eyes searched the crowd, looking for any sign of his mother, but all he could see was a blur of people and placards. His stomach churned with a mix of fear and excitement as he realized that this was it—the moment they'd been waiting for. The moment they would take back their town.
Edward Nosedive's mansion loomed over the protesters, a dark reminder of the tyranny that had taken root in High Wind Gulch. The Black Hoods, his loyal henchmen, stood sentry outside, their beady eyes watching the crowd warily. They knew that the tide was turning against them, and their once-firm grip on the town was slipping.
Clarence stepped forward, his arms unfurled in a show of power and determination. His voice, usually calm and measured, now boomed across the square. "You've had your fun, Nosedive," he called out, his eyes blazing. "But this ends now! You release Becky Buzzard and Mayor Callahan, or we're gonna tear this town apart to find them ourselves!"
The crowd roared in approval, their candles flickering in the breeze like a thousand tiny fires of rebellion. The Black Hoods shifted nervously, their beady eyes darting from one end of the mob to the other. Even from a distance, Baron could see the fear in their faces, the doubt creeping in. It was a thrilling sight, but it was tinged with the bitter taste of desperation.
Clarence's words hung in the air, a battle cry that resonated through the very bones of High Wind Gulch. His feathers ruffled, he raised his fist and called out to the townsfolk, "We stand for justice! We stand for freedom! And we won't back down until Becky and Mayor Callahan are back where they belong!"
The rebellious crowd cheered in agreement, ready to fight for their home at all costs.
AN: It's never truly easy to cope with losing someone you love, especially if they die in the most horrifying, tragic way, taken too soon before having the chance to live out the rest of their life with loved ones. Like Becky, there are those lost in their own grief and guilt that they turn to drinking to cope with the pain, alienating everyone around them without knowing it, only causing more pain and heartbreak. It takes real strength and courage to admit that you have a problem, even when friends step in to help them out of the dark pit of despair. Only now, we are about to learn how Baron's mother first started going to federal prison without a trial no thanks to a corrupted system where it's not as easy as it looks to release them so suddenly, after learning in other real life cases of innocent people being locked away in prison for crimes they did not commit, given an unfair trial and hardly any evidence to prove them GUILTY.