I went back and corrected the mispelling. Lots of the language is colloquial. But I know you knew that.
I just meant a few, like I spelled --wait as wiat and a couple of others like that. I grew up in the San Joaquin Valley around the people fleeing the dust bowl in the 30s-40s and you can still hear some of the way they express themselves today in the way I'm writing it. Chimley instead of chimney and ifn for if- hit for it. etc. I suppose if english speaking readers in other countries or those with english as a second language read this--they may think I need to learn to spell. I never thought of that. Hit don't matter!!
I can't say that I'm quite finished reading just yet, but I HAD to jump in here and say that I love your writing style. It makes me feel in the times!
Scratcho I finally caught up reading this and I like your characters and story so far. I think that the words do take one back to the times and people involved. Changing the words would make the people out of place and time. I can't wait for the next installment. :2thumbsup:
The Run-continued. The young hand soon returned with the saddle bags of the dead highwayman and handed them to Mr Pearson. Pa was sitting in his customary place whittling on a cottonwood stub with one of the knives he often used to make little figures and such for Ma, which she displayed on a shelf in the kitchen. Pa untied the leather thongs that held the flaps on each side of the bags tightly closed, which were used to keep the contents from flying out when the horse underneath them was in motion. He dumped the meager contents on the rough wooden floor of the porch in the middle of the gathered group. " Not much there." he said and picked up some tattered paper,most of which turned out to be letters and one differant looking piece that was a copy of the list that had the names of the Missourians written thereon. He opened an envelope and withdrew the letter, which had a return address in Kansas. He began to read to himself, his brow knit at what he was seeing in the missive. " Well",he finally said, "most of it is personal family writins', but this here part Im 'a gonna show you-all , pretty well tells us what we're up agin". He adjusted his reading glasses from where they had slipped down his nose some and this is how it read, poor spelling and all when it was passed around and looked at. " I miss yuo luis and Iwished yuo was to home. The war be ovr and yuo boys had ot to fergit chasng them rebs. Wedun the sem thin to thm as they done to us. Qauntrill don mater non now nohow." "Well that seals it, boys. Them damn murderin' fools from has come to git 'em some revenge fer what Quantrill and the others had done up to Kansas. They done it to us first and then we rode up there and did some to them. I will say that quantrill was the worst 'a the bunch though. My brother rode up to Utah with him once, lookin' to see how the trappin' was, I reckon. But comin' back through Kansas he did some real serious lootin' and killin'. That was the last time he rode with him when he seen what kind of a low down feller he was. But god-dammit, most of us Rebs and none of our bunch didn't have a damn thing to do with killing no children and women. We killed the ones that pulled iron on us and took equipment and stock." Pa was expressing himself freely now, because Ma was back in the house somewhere and he was well aware she didn't allow any foul language in her presence from anyone, including Pa. Becky? Now that was a differant story. She grew up around the hands doing chores, breakin' horses and working as good as any man and she'd heard all the language that wasn't fit to use in mixed company. Thing was --Becky pretty much did what she wanted, said what she wanted any time she wanted and even Ma had given up trying to work on that. She had finished up in the kitchen with her Ma earlier and had been sitting and listening to her pa. She had her hand on Joshes leg and his hand was on top of hers, as they listened to the contents of what Pa had decided was important. "Alright, we got some decidin' to do right now," Pa said. Becky spoke up for the first time this morning. " Me and Josh is goin' after them motherfuckin back shooters and I reckon to have Lonnie go with us, as he's damn good with his iron." The new hands winced a little at Beckys statement ,but said nothin' when they saw that her Pa didn't bat an eye over it, so they began to get the idea that that's the way it was. Ma came out of the house and Pa asked her if the travelin' food was ready and she replied "it is. PLain and simple. Like that. She then said " You-all git goin' now and I want to hear that those sonsabitches that kilt the Pryors, tried to kill us and the Hays bunch turn up dead." ", Damn,Mrs Pearson---I Mean excuse me mam." I ain't never heard-----Lonnie was interupted by Ma--"this ain't no time for politeness, Lonnie. Theys strangers tryin' to kill us and our people and they ain't nothing but low-down back shootin, sneakin' bastards". "Yes mam", Lonnie said, but they were wondering where this certain oddity of language from sweet little Ma had come from. " These is trying times" she said. "You-all git to gitting now." to be cont.
Continued. The heat was going to be like a living thing today, as it usually was in July in the valley. A thing that seemed to push back at you as you moved through it and quickly sapped your energy if enough water was not taken in to replace that which was lost. The five had ridden off towards the Hays place, and had stopped in to make sure Pa Hays was doing well and to introduce the young hands that were to stay as long as needed to bolster the defences of the Hays 'stead in the event that more trouble came their way in the coming days. Mr Pearson would continue to pay their wages as if they were still working back on the Pearson place, which both men considered to be most unusual. However they both agreed that this was indeed the most unusual and interesting place and people they had ever encountered, specially that young gal,Becky and were most appreciative of the generosity given them. Pa Hays doled out a couple hundred rounds of ammunition to the three of them, hugged them fiercely and wished them god speed. Ma shed some tears,but finally bid them goodbye reluctantly. The three riders entered the cottonwoods surrounding the slough and urged their mounts through the water and over the intruding fingers of solid and semi solid ground , to the clearing where Becky had put the two men down. The men lay in the same position they had fallen, but they were becoming bloated and blackened in the heat and the maggots were already doing their customary job of crawling over the bodies as nature had intended. The smell was almost overpowering, but with kerchiefs tied around their heads to cover their faces , the men were put down in a shallow grave. Even though the men were of the murderin' , useless outlaw type, they were still human. They were glad to get shed of the grove this day and rode on towards the area called stringtown, pushing the heat aside, where more settlers from Missouri had started small steads and were familiar to Becky, Josh and Lonnie and a few were even cousins. Those cousins were lucky enough not have last names that matched any names on the list, consequently were more than likely not bothered by the butchers that came through the 'steads to the south. Time a'wastin' and all in stringtown aprised of the recent events and to be on the watch, they set out for town and decided to pull in at the livery and have the horse fed, watered and curried, if the hand working the stables had the time to do so. He did and he led their mounts off to take care of them, so the three of them climbed up into the loft to formulate some kind of a plan. To be cont.
I am just in from walking Grace at the cemetery. Sweating something awful. I am feeling the heat they are riding in. The air conditioner is starting to cool me down a bit. I would not have made it out there way back when. Thanks in advance for more please.
AC was not widely available even in the 50s as I recall. We had a swamp cooler which did diddly-shit in the two story house in which I was raised. Stringtown is a real place where my gramma grew up in the 1800s about 38 miles south of Fresno. It was not a town--just old timers on their small ranches spread out around there. She died in 1966 in the town of Lemoore, which is my hometown. She was a horsewoman and played guitar at 16 years old around the area until she was dragged by a horse which screwed her fingers up. (just a little accompanying history)---Joel
The Run-cont. The three friends sat on the edge of the loft and dangled their legs into the quickly heating summer air while remaining quiet for a time, each to their own thoughts. They could hear the stable hand, which was a distant cousin of Joshes, removing the saddles from the horses down below, preparing to move them over to where the hay was piled in neat sheaves in individual wooden boxes, whereupon he would begin the currying. Becky spoke first. "Josh, ifn' we're lucky, that rider that lit out when I shot them other two will most likely have the same shirt on as he had on yesterday. It were bright red and yellow squares, as I recall," "Yeah, I do recall that, but I also got a look at him when he was comin' into the grove," replied Josh. Lonnie spoke up then-" Well we got us a good chance of recognizin' him then, ifn' he be around. Let's hope he ain't hightailed on outta' here trying to meet up with some others of his kind." Becky pointed out that the men that had chased and shot at Josh had obviously seen him in Gibsons place, heard his name and thats why they were after him." He, of course thought they were after the Gray. "So, no matter what we're a'gonna do, Josh you got ta stay outta sight until me and Lonnie locate them fellers. And one problem we got on top a' that is, we don't know how many is here." "They don't know me and they don't know Lonnie, so we'll all go around ta' the back a' Blue Dog saloon and go in the kitchen and take us a look out ta the bar. You stay out back 'till we see what we can see. OK,honey? "That sounds about right--what say you ,Lonnie?" "Yup. That's it then. Let's move." They made their egress from the loft and checked ther weapons as they headed toward the back of the businesses that lined the main street, as the oppresive heat closed in on them. They soon reached the back of the saloon and Josh stepped over to the side to await developements as Becky and Lonnie entered the back door. Becky had the big shotgun and her Colt holstered and Lonnie had his rifle and his Colt and he followed her to the small opening that let the cook see out into the main room. The cook was a new one from back east somewhere and he didn't particulary like folks impinging on the sanctity of his supposed domain. He opened his mouth to clarify just who in the hell was in charge back here in "his" kitchen and got far as --" HEY-WHAT IN THE HELL DO YOU PEOPLE--Before he ate 30 inches of double barrel iron swung across the stove connecting with the side of his head and he went down hard and lay still. "Loud mouth sonuvabitch", Becky said. Lonnie thought to himself--"uh-oh. She's a'gettin in a mood. This oughta' be good." She looked out through the peek hole and saw 20-25 men ,some at the bar, some sitting at tables talking, a couple of poker games going and two or three of the whores carrying drinks. She spotted the man with the red and yellow shirt sitting at a table with another man and they were talking animatedly and drinking glasses of beer out of a pitcher one of the whores had just brought to them. He grabbed her behind in a rough manner and threw her off balance and she fell over to side and almost to the floor. She caught her balance and frowed at the feller and he commenced to laughing at her and then went back to conversing with his partner. "Well now",Becky said." This is what we're gonna do. To be cont.
Cont. "Lonnie, you go around to the front ,enter without making nothing of it and edge over to where you can cover the whole room, so's when I commence to talkin' business with that there feller in the fancy-ass shirt, I won't have no slick fuckers filling me full a' lead from behind. I'm a'gonna wait for that other feller that's talkin' to the one I want to talk to, to go out back ta' piss. But I'm gonna bring Josh in here so's he knows which one I want him to deal with. OK,Lonnie? Sound OK to you?" "You know I got you covered ,young lady," Lonnie replied. "All the time." Lonnie went out of the back door and told Josh Becky wanted to show him the men and tell him the plan she had for them. Josh showed anger when he saw the men sitting and drinking beer after all they --or least one of 'em for sure--had done yesterday and wanted to go in and take care of it immediately. Becky finally got him calmed down and he stepped out the back door without so much as a word about the supine man dressed in white laid out on the floor. He knew it had something to do with Becky and that was all he needed to know. Becky went on out into the bar,sidled up to it at one end and told the bartender to give her a glass 'a beer. He knew who she was and so he moved over to the tap and drew her a tall glass of dark beer and when he sat it on the worn oak planked bar top, she picked it up and drained it. " Gimmie another." He had never seen Becky in the bar before and definately had never seen her drink any beer or even heard of such a story. She let the other glass sit on the bar without taking any of it and leaned on the bar waiting for the mans kidneys to send a signal that it was time to "bleed the lizard' as Lonnie would say. Several of what looked to be cowpunchers were looking at her and she faintly heard mention of her eyes. " They sure come in handy sometimes for keeping the men at a distance", she thought to herslf. They were so startling that she was put in some kind of catagory all by herself. Finally, the man opposite the shirt man got up and headed towards the back ,she presumed to enter the outhouse to piss. Although it wouldn't surprise her none if he stopped just outside the door to piss as men often pissed wherever they wanted. She hoped josh was ready. She was. To be cont.
Cont. As soon as the man disappeared out of sight in the back, Becky looked over in the corner and saw that Lonnie was standing, leaning against the wall holding his rifle in front of him ready to bring it up and cover her when she made her move. Her face felt hot with anger now and she straightened up , turned on her heel and swiftly moved toward the red and yellow shirted man. He was watching her approach ,probably mesmerized by her eyes, she figured, and when got up on him, she kicked him hard in the chest and he toppled over backwards, his feet catching on the underside of the table, causing it to make a screeching sound rubbing across the planks of the floor and spilling the pitcher and the glasses of beer the men had been drinking. He wasn't aware of it yet, but the top rib on his right side was broken , but a serious pain signal had not yet reached his cortex yet and she was on him with her knees pinning his arms tight to the floor before he could react. The men in the bar behind her had started up a fuss and were hollering ,moving around and trying to figure out what had just happened and why. The noise was getting louder and louder and she needed some quiet in order to deal with this fool she held down. She swung the big shotgun up and fired both barrels into the ceiling, making a deafening roar that shut everyone up. "Now you-all shut the fuck up and git yourselves up agin them walls--NOW!! As she said this, she was sticking two more shells in the shot gun. "You think I'm a'shitten you boys?" Git back up agin them walls, god dammit!! Case you think I'm by myself, looky over there in the corner. There's a man just itchin' fer somebody to draw down." The man held down was mortified and mighty pissed at being held down on the floor by a woman--and what looked to be a young one at that. He said " get off me ,you bitch--I'ma gonna kill you fer this. Git off ." Becky pulled the Colt and smashed him in the left cheek with it just below his eye--- his eyes rolled up and jiggled a little, while his cheek was swelling up already. "Say somethin' else,motherfucker. Say somethin. She took the Colt and put it her left hand and whomped him on the right cheek and immediately ,it started to swell. " You ain't got to see shit anyway, you lowdown cocksucker!! One more hard lick on the mouth sent a couple of teeth across the floor. The cowpunchers and the regulars had plastered themselves up against the wall and basically were petrified of this crazy, odd lookin' woman, which was just not the way things ususally worked around these or any parts they were familiar with , for that matter. The whores were crying and had fled upstairs. One of the cowpunchers whispered to the man standing next to him-" What the hell man. Who is that and what the hell's goin' on?" " The man whispered back--"Shut up man--don't draw no attention to us!" Becky stared over at the crowd and most of the men started checking their shoes. "Now ,you piece 'a shit--who are you ,where'd you come from and how many are they"? The man couldn't see now. His eyes were swollen shut, the pain from his rib was now reaching where pain reaches when a little time has passed. " Don''t have nothin to say,uh?" "fuh yu" , was all the injured man could manage. "Fuh me,uh?" She reached down and grabbed his wrist and pulled it up where she could get to his fingers. She took hold of his middle finger and snapped it right back to his wrist as he let out a scream. "Shit boy,you got nine more 'a those fuckers." Lonnie couldn't take it any more. He was getting a little woozy on his feet and he'd seen it all in the war. "Becky. That's enough,girl. He ain't gonna say nothing." She seemed to change in demeaner some when she heard the calming voice of Lonnie. "OK Lonnie. OK." Lonnie could see the men up against the walls were actually horrified at her display of toughness and absolute cruelty. They need to be told just what this bastard had taken part in. Becky got off him, stood up and grabbed him by the hair, drug him out the door, across the rough boards and flung him into the dust in the street. She stepped off the boards,put her foot on his chest ,drew the Colt and shot him in the throat. Some of the men had crowded over to see what was going to happen outside and when she turned to come back into the bar, they hurried to get back against the walls. "Shit she said". I'll give the sonuvabitch one thing. He were sure stubborn. Gimmie a beer." she said to the now silent man behind the bar. Then she reached in her pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar gold piece. She flipped it over to the bartender, turned around and said "--the beer's on me." With that she turned to go out back to see if josh had any better luck than she did. Lonnie followed in her wake, shaken to the core, for once. To be cont.
("...nah, I'm not the right type to comment upon your works human..." went the goblin newly turned up form a small break in being here, then adding "...instead keep an eye on the hitcount to this thread, which doubles up and your readership too, for a high hitcount will tell you your worth to the reader, but don't write for them anyway, for your goal here is to live your story in you mind where that only comes with practice as what you write writes you back...", and with that the goblin just waited upon the human to continue now, adding "...I'll be here more often now, I keep you company if you like but I can't write you humans do so I guess I won't be much help to you now...")
Cont-------- When the unsuspecting man stepped out of the doorway, Josh gave him a good lick on the forehead with his Colt and that was all it took to send him sprawling into the flour-like dust behind the saloon. Josh had taken the time to return to the livery and cut some lengths of rope off the hoop of it he carried tied to his saddle. He noted the chunk of leather missing from the horn and remembered vividly that those men were definately trying to kill him. Didn't help his disposition much as he trussed this one up ,his legs tied at the ankles and his arms tied at his sides. When the man came around, he began to struggle against his bounds, but soon settled down when he realized it wouldn't do anything other than to tire him out if he kept it up. "I recanize you, you sumbitch. You're that Hays boy. Turn me a'loose and lets do this like men." Josh snorted a noise at that and said nothing. No use pointin' out to him what scum he was. Maybe he knew it--maybe he didn't. Some folks go their whole lives believing the trespasses they commit on others is alright. It's owed 'em, they think. Something fundamentally wrong with their brains, Josh figured. Josh asked him who he was, where was the rest of his bushwackin' friends and how many were there. He got the standard reply from a man that was trussed up and pissed off. "Fuck you, Hays. You-all thought you could run from the degradations of Quantrill back to home. Your people rode with him!" You-all thought we'd ferget. We ain't!! Josh didn't care to debate him about much of anything. He just wanted some answers. He grabbed the man from behind as he lay in the dust a'bitchin' and drug him over to the front of the outhouse. He hooked the door open with a short piece of rope to a nail that had worked it's way out of the board siding. He looped a fifteen foot section of rope through the bounds on the mans ankles, stepped inside the two hole john and threw the end up and over a rafter. Josh pulled on the rope and the man slid across the dust, over the thresh hold and onto the floor of the crapper , which was emanating the smell of human waste in a most undesirable way. The man was getting the idea now and started to panic. "Awww -jesus man--please don't"--he shut up when Josh put his hand on his Colt. Josh hoisted the man up and over the front side of the framing and lowered him down through the one of the holes, to the alternating pleas and threats of his hapless and helpless prisoner. Josh still hadn't said a word to him since he had asked him the questions that he needed to have answered. Josh heard a huge booming noise coming from up front in the bar and recognized it as the big shotgun Becky favored. He knew that she had started in doing whatever it was she had planned for that fellow inside. " You gonna answer my questions,fella?" " I don't know nothing, now get me outta this stinkin' shithole,man." Josh flipped the rope and the loop it made , carried over to the other side of the rafter and the man was lowered until his head was sunk up to his eyebrows in the awful biological leavings. "OK_OK_OK--jesus-jesus. Get me out-please- please. I'll tell you what I know,man. I'll tell you!! Just get me out!!" Josh pulled the man up and swung him over the floor of the crapper and dropped him in the dust, which was the consistancy of flour and covered most everything. He dragged him by his feet over to the water trough situated a dozen yards to the north and west of the back door of the saloon. God-almighty, Josh thought--this fella smells real bad. Better get that stuff off of him or he's gonna pass out. He heaved him up and over the side of the trough, grabbed his feet and dunked his head under the green water and pulled him back and forth to try and remove the offal from his head. He grabbed the bounds that held the mans arms tight to his side and pulled him up to check on his condition. The man was sputtering and spitting out water and maybe something else--Josh didn't want to think to much on that. Looked pretty clean, he observed , so he pulled him out of the water and deposited him back in the dust up against the trough. " Well mister, you just got saved from a shitty ending," Josh said,chuckling at his lame attempt at humor. Now we're gonna do us some us palaverin' when my friends get done up front with what they're a'doin and you better be ready to talk when they git out here." Josh heard a more distant shot than the first shots he had heard. The first one was Beckys double, no doubt about that, but this latest one was further away--maybe clear up front and sounded like another Colt. Josh sat on the edge of the trough and put his feet on the dusty,trussed up man below him and wondered when the others would show up back here to compare results of this plan of theirs. To be cont.
