"Adventures in Gallup Part 2" by Raymond

1. Adventures in Gallup (part 2)

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4. David stood behind the counter and daydreamed. Fanny May is right. Monday’s sure slow. Earlier, the Post had only two Indian customers and the store had no patrons now.

5. Life in hot, dusty Gallup plodded, compared to Kansas City. The single movie house showed a picture on weekends only. He and Tommy even walked down the street to the bar one evening, hoping to see a gunfight. Drunks staggered out and wobbled away. One fell down and puked, but nobody started shooting hot lead. David wondered if the old west was as dead as silent films.

6. They also joined a few families gathering along the tracks to train-watch as the eastbound Super Chief roared through at eighty-miles-an-hour. People jabbered when an eastbound freight and the westbound Super Chief roared passed each other. “Must be like a double feature movie,” David had said. After a couple of afternoons, they stopped going. After all, trains were just trains.

7. “Nothing much happening.” Fanny May had slipped in the store, and stood at the end of the counter. David spun around. She sure has a knack of surprising me.

8. Tommy was on the other side of the store, starring off into space.

9. “Tommy come over here.” Fanny May yelled.

10. Tommy walked over and grinned. “Yes ‘em.”

11. Fanny May answered. “I’m thinking of closing. You boys can either take a drive or. . . go to the bar.”

12. Tommy’s eyes widened. “The bar? We’re not twenty-one.”

13. “As long as you as you can even think about shaving they’ll serve you a beer. Not enough to do in this small town so we don’t get sticky about things like that. Don’t look for any young girls, though. People do get sticky about that. Folks don’t want young girls going to a bar. Now just sit quietly, have a beer or two or some pop and avoid trouble. Just keep to yourselves and no fights. Most men in town work on the railroad. I don’t think you’ll be bothered.”

14. She paused and rubbed her chin. “Look, if you go down there and get into it, how am I going tell your mother. So really, just have a beer or two and come back. Oh, there’s the Scragg brothers, couple of mean ones. Shot two men out in the desert and robbed them. An Indian saw it and told the sheriff who mounted a posse, but never found them. I understand they’re little guys with black beards. One’s suppose to wear a Mexican white hat, a sombrero, the other a black one. I think they took off over into Arizona, but keep your eyes peeled. If you see ‘em, disappear fast.”

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16. The tavern was dark because the mahogany bar, the smoke streaked unpainted wood walls, the bare wood floor, and ceiling, all swallowed light. Several large mirrors hung behind the bar and a red neon sign reading “Budweiser” buzzed on the back wall. The four naked bulbs burning overhead were fogged by cigarette smoke. About two dozen men with cowboy hats and boots sat at the bar or at one of the tables scattered around the floor. Two ladies, about 30 years old, waited tables, while four others sat at the bar and flirted with the men through furtive glances. The only juke box between Albuquerque and Flagstaff, Arizona wailed a Guthrie song about two women in black.

17. One of the women just stared at David, and one of the men made a comment about that boy needed to be bred. A couple of cowboy types snickered. David lit a Lucky Strike and passed the pack on to Tommy. Since the men were big and a few wore guns, the two just shrugged and stared at their reflection in the mirror. The bartender came up and asked if they wanted pop or something stronger. David said, “Whiskey,” held up two fingers, and pointed at himself and Tommy.

18. The chubby, bald man squinted and held out his hand.. “Fifty cents.”

19. “Whiskey! Fanny May was right. You can do anything,” Tommy said.

20. “Never had any before,” David mumbled.

21. David sipped the whiskey, looked in the mirror and noticed his friend’s mouth twist. His own throat burned. People were looking, so he finished the glass. David did the same. At least the bar was cooler than the street and music pouring out of the jukebox was better than the Albuquerque cowboy radio station KJNM.

22. David grinned. “Here we are in a western bar, drinking whiskey and looking at fancy women. John Wayne, you ain’t got nothing on us.”

23. Tommy giggled. “Look close. Women ain’t that fancy.” He finished the glass. The bartender laid two more on the counter, each with double shots. Oh, Oh he’s tryin to get our money . David shook his head, but the man smiled and pointed.

24. A gangly cowboy type in a black hat, sitting at a table, grinned. “On me. If you finish ‘em in two minutes, I’ll buy another.”

25. David glanced at Tommy, who grinned and held his glass up. He sipped quickly, but gagged as he tried to jug-a-lug. He tried to set his head in his hand, but his elbow slipped off the bar. A big blonde woman about forty-years-old, who had been staring at David, suddenly appeared. She had bleached hair, but brown roots were starting to show next to her scalp. Her face was lined. She wore deep red lipstick, black eye liner, and had long black lashes, which he suspected were “paste-ons.”

26. She touched David’s shoulder. “You wanna dance?”

27. David mumbled, “I can’t do that.”

28. “Oh, honey, I’ll teach ya.”

29. “Way to go, Betty,” one of the men yelled. Several men snickered and a few clapped.

30. Betty tried to drag David onto the floor and he grabbed the bar rail. She pulled. He gripped. She tugged again. He finally let go. She started dancing a Fox Trot. He stumbled back and forth, trying to shuffle to the beat. He heard whistling and yelling.

31. “We can go in back, just you and me, for five bucks,” the woman whispered. “No time limit.”

32. A skinny, dark-haired woman, also about forty, with a sweaty odor seeping under the smell of cheap perfume, had grabbed Tommy.

33. The music stopped. “I don’t have five bucks,” David whispered to the blonde, who was now standing next to his stool. “I only got a little change.”

34. “Oh, honey, I got pride.” She walked away. David slipped back onto his bar seat.

35. Tommy stood next to his stool with the skinny woman. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his change. “I only got thirty-five cents.”

36. “Hey, sweety, I got to make a living. You’re cute but I can’t give it away.”

37. Tommy’s face reddened and he shuffled his feet.

38. David stared at his obviously embarrassed friend and started to giggle. Everything was funny: the Budweiser sign, the music on the jukebox and especially Tommy and the frowning *****.

39. Tommy staggered over. “Maybe we’d better go.”

40. David nodded and remembered Fanny Mays warning. No trouble now.

41. As they weaved out the door, a man touched David’s arm. “Thanks for the entertainment. He paused and winked. “Anyway, not much happens in this town.”

42. “Who gives a *****,” David mumbled, “I gotta get out of here.”

43. “Yeah,” Tommy slurred back. “I think I'm gonna be sick.”

44. Outside, David muttered, “Oh, *****,” and stumbled off the wood deck in front of the bar. His open hands squashed into a pile of horse manure. “Ugh.” He puked into the street.

45. Tommy started to pull him up, but his cheeks bulged. He turned, leaned against the building and vomited. The mixture of vomit and regurgitated whiskey heaved up and out.

46. David gasped. Taste of bile and whiskey burned his mouth. Never—never again.

47. Tommy staggered down the street and crept around the back of the Post. David followed, stumbling while trying to shake the excess crap off his hands. The smell of horseshit and vomit made him gag. I sure hope Fanny May don’t see us or smell us. She’ll send us home, that’s for sure.

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49. David sipped a tepid beer and munched on a pretzel. “We only got a few more days then back to KC. Anyway, I got to know Aunt Florence, learned to drive more or less, had whiskey in a Western bar, and met a *****. Pretty neat summer considering.”

50. “Yeah,” Tommy grinned, “About your driving, more or less.”

51. “I know. Just give me time.”

52. “You know next time my old man comes home drunk and starts trouble, I’m gonna bash him with a steel pipe. It’s behind the dresser, just waitin’.”

53. David stiffened and frowned. “You’re my best friend and it’s none of my business if you stand up for your mom. I was worried about how Mom would make it with me bein’ gone for the summer. We talked just before I came down here.” He stretched his arms and watched as two hawks did lazy-eights above the butte.

54. “What were you goin’ to say?”

55. “Well, she said she had two legs and could walk out if that was her choice. Your mom makes good money. She could sure get out if she wanted. Some reason she hasn’t. We all have choices. I don’t think she’d want you to go to jail for bumpin’ off your old man.”

56. Tommy shrugged. “Humm, somethin’ to think about, I guess. Hey, let’s take the beer and drive out to the old butte.”

57. David nodded. “Okay. Let me drive. Last chance.

58. “You drive out, I’ll drive back.”

59. “A deal. I’ll take the Springfield.”

60. “David drove out the Farmington Road and stopped on the north side of the butte. The two sat in the shade and watched several buzzards setting on a ledge, eyes peering into the distance, apparently searching for carrion.

61. They reconnoitered and found a three foot opening through the rocks. Beyond, a large sandy flat space, surrounded on three sides by jagged ten foot rocks, nestled next to eighty foot butte itself. A shadowy, shallow cave extended back to a flat rock wall at the rear. They checked it for snakes and scorpions. It was cooler then anyplace in Gallup, so they took their beers to the rear, and sat against flat rocked floor.

62. Horses hoofs startled David. “Who is that?”

63. “Who knows, but the truck is parked on the other side so I hope who-ever don’t see it. Men mumbled close by, but out of eyesight. Suddenly a loud crack echoed into the cave and somebody screamed. David’s mouth flopped open and Tommy gulped and appeared to hold his breath.

64. They sat for several minutes, pressing into the stone at the rear of the cave, hoping that their bodies would simply blend in with the rock. There was no place to hide since the cave was without any bends or niches. Suddenly the two men appeared in the courtyard right at the mouth of the cave. One was dragging a body. Both were tall and big, with heavy black beards covering their faces and guns hanging from their hips. One wore a dirty white cowboy hat, the other a black hat. The dead man’s mouth had flopped open exposing yellow teeth. One man looked directly into the cave, but obviously couldn’t see the boys.

65. David pressed into the rock and held his breath. Each man took turns shoveling a shallow grave. When it was deep enough, the white hat rolled the body in. The black hat flipped the dead man’s hat into the trench. Within five minutes, they covered the body with sandy dirt.

66. “We‘ll run his horse out into the desert.” The black hat said. “To risky trying to sell it.”

67. The white hat rubbed his hand across the man’s saddle. “We can sell this for good money.”

68. “We’ll have to wait about six months— take it up to Shiprock and maybe sell it to the Indians.

69. “How about storing it in the cave?”

70. David’s heart thumped and Tommy gasped.

71. The white hat had turned, and was starting to remove the saddle strap.

72. The black hat peered into the cave and started to walk in.

73. David sucked in air and yelled, “Run.” He sprinted passed the opened- mouth black hat at the entrance, past black hat who fiddle with the strap and out the three foot entrance.

74. David ran and ran, never looking back. He blanked his mind. Somebody was shooting. He kept thinking, run, move legs, run. A bullet zipped past his right ear. He ran and ran.

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76. “We got your friend. Any shooting and he gets it in the belly,” yelled the man in the white hat holding Tommy. The group stood outside the mouth of the cave, in the sandy space.

77. There was no response. A puff of wind blew dirt blew, stinging their faces. He yelled again but there was no response. The only noise Tommy heard was the air rushing down his nose, and the labored breathing of the men.

78. “I just may give it to you anyway.” He growled at the stocky youth and tightened his choke hold. Tommy grabbed the man’s arm and tried to pull it away. The man gave him a nasty bruise on his back by pushing the barrel of the gun in harder. He released his grip enough so Tommy could breathe. The black hat gripped his six-shooter and started to walk through the cleft out into the desert.

79. “Stay here!” the white hat rasped. “I don’t think he will shoot with his friend here. We need to stay together. At least we got two guns against one. You’re dead anyway! That’s for sure,” Tommy felt his strength drain away as the tip of the gun bore into back. Every minute of life was precious.

80. He could feel his heart beating, his lungs trying to suck in air, and a sweaty smelly arm clinched around his throat. He had only thought about death once. One of his 34th and Broadway friends was killed by a car. A bloody stocking cap lay nestled against the curb, and the group talked in hush tones about having to die someday. Now, maybe it was his turn? His eyes pointed skyward. There was his mother and all of his friends. At least she could leave his drunk and abusive old man. He realized that he would never see them again and tears starting welling up.

81. He took a deep breath and decided that at least he could die quietly, without tears. He concentrated on the blue sky. Never had earth looked so beautiful. Maybe when he died his soul would sail into the sky on its way to heaven and past the two hawks doing figure eights. Tommy would trade his body for a hawk and do a figure eight, just to keep living. He examined the peak of the butte and all the cracks, outcroppings, and small spires. He tried to decipher the shapes. Perhaps, there was some symbol. Afterlife was fuzzy and ill defined and now he wished that he thought more about God. .

82. He hoped David would get away. . . maybe people would come back for his body. . . be buried in Kansas City. . . not in this strange place. He fought to hold back the tears. He wanted to cry or scream “Please don’t do this.”

83. “You kill my friend and you’re a dead man. In fact you’re both dead men. I promise! I can shoot a rabbit and you slobs are nothing,” David screamed, breaking the silence.

84. The two men and Tommy looked up in unison. A patch of red hair appeared between a cleft. The ominous snout of a Springfield thirty-ought-six, looking like a thin black stick, seemed to grow out of the top of the butte.

85. The man in the black hat immediately ran over to the base of the butte, partially sheltered by a rocky outcrop. He rested his gun against a rock and fired twice, aiming for a small patch of protruding hair.

86. David screamed. The hair disappeared.

87. “Maybe you got him, ” the white hat blurted.

88. The man breathed a sigh of relief. Tommy’s mind went blank.

89. Tommy saw the gun reappear.

90. “I’ll go around and see—see if I can get up there.”

91. “No we got to always see each other. Climb up the front, behind that outcropping.”

92. The black hat stared up and frowned. The face had eroded and there was almost a series of small steps. “I don’t know. It’s really high.”

93. “Go.” He sucked in air. “Go! We gotta get out of this—this somehow.”

94. He began to slowly inch his way up the butte. Tommy could feel the man holding him, shake, sweat, and gulp for air, radiating a silent fear that would have been undetected, had he not been nestled against his body. The white hat wasn’t ready to die either. He tightened the choke hold and pushed the gun deeper into the Tommy’s back.

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96. David could see Tommy’s upturned face His eyes seemed to plead for help. He simply couldn’t take the shot, to risky. The big thirty caliber slug might rip through Tommy’s body. Even if he did make a clean shot, the man’s trigger finger might twitch.

97. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the black hat inching up the face of the butte. Without thinking, he fired a quick shot so the bullet would pass within inches of the man’s butt. Then he held his breath, afraid the man holding Tommy might shoot. “Oh.. no more..” he said to himself when there was no gun noise from below. He decided that maybe a threat might work.

98. “You go any higher—higher and the next one will break your hip. Try climbing down a forty foot cliff with a broken hip.” David moistened his throat. He felt wobbly and hoped his voice didn’t show it. “Anyway, if you survive, I’ll shoot you again. So it don’t really matter does it.” He clicked the bolt, sliding another thirty caliber slug into the chamber.

99. David could see the man. The man must have heard the click, because he stopped and hugged the rock face. Black Hat hung about thirty feet above the ground.

100. “Look, we got a standoff here. If you’ll drop your rifle your friend can go.” the white hat yelled. “You both gotta keep your mouths shut.”

101. “*****!” David yelled. “I got one for you. Your buddy climbs down slowly, you let my friend go, and you both leave. Back across the desert where you came from. Drop your guns on the ground.”

102. “Yeah! Then you go to the sheriff and we hang in front of the courthouse.”

103. “You know, you’re no more ready to die I am.” Tommy gasped.

104. The man didn’t respond but he could still feel the man shaking and the sweat was now draining down onto his hair.

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106. Perspiration beaded on David’s face. Butterflies flapped in his gut. Vomit crawled up his throat, but he couldn’t be sick—not now. He panicked. God . . What do I do?

107. The climbing man was about twenty feet from the top. He knew he had to shoot him as he climbed over a lip at the top, otherwise David would be the dead one. He would shoot him in the shoulder and if he fell, that was God’s choice, not his.

108. He noticed that the white hat had turned his face to look up the butte at his climbing companion. Also, his gun had shifted and now pointed away from Tommy’s back. He swallowed, breathed deeply, and simply focused on the shot. He had no time to think about right or wrong, killing or sin, but concentrated on mechanical things. "Line up vee notch with tip. . . Squeeze off—don’t jerk," he mumbled. Please make this shot good.

109. The man suddenly realized his head was exposed. Frantically, he tried to duck behind his human shield and rotate his pistol. David took the shot. A full throated pop echoed across the desert followed by a crack and ping as the white hat fired and the bullet hit the butte. A small hole appeared in the man’s temple and a red spray fanned from the other side of his head. His arm loosened. His body stiffened. He fell straight back dragging Tommy. A torn and bloody white hat rolled away from his head.

110. The Black hat stiffened. His eyes opened wide, his jaw dropped and he looked down, watching the White Hat fall. The pressure caused a small outcropping to crumble. He lost his grip and clawed at the rock face. He fell backward screaming, arching out, and flipping over. He fell seventy feet head first, crying out, until his skull split open on a stony outcrop, splattering like a grotesque watermelon. The wind blew some dust in David’s eyes.

111. David was so traumatized from the tension and the killing that he simply ceased to function. He somehow managed to crawl down from the top and stood next to Tommy.

112. David glanced down and shivered. The dull eyes of the men stared at the blue sky. One man’s mouth was open, forming a red bloody hole. . . no teeth . . . no

113. tongue.. just an expressionless hole. Ants crawled on the other’s gray face. He looked up. Buzzards now lined the top of the butte, peering down at the dead. . . Waiting—hoping.

114. “We’re goin’ back to town and tell the whole story. Let’s leave this place of death,” Tommy mumbled softly.

115. Tommy tried to comfort his friend on the way back to town. David, still in shock, sat without talking as the truck bumped into town.

116. When they got back to Fanny May’s, Tommy told her the entire story. . Fanny May looked at her sad quiet nephew and embraced him laying his head on her shoulder. She held him for almost a half hour, rubbing his hair and back. It was so comforting, and he felt like a little boy, experiencing the unconditional love of a mother.

117. She talked softly. “You know in the great war, millions killed millions for some king or president they had never seen and never heard. You killed a man to save a friend and probably your own life. The way I look at it, it was good and right. I am so proud . . . at least that’s how I see it. Anyway, got to go the sheriff. Get the whole thing behind you. ”

118. He took a nap that afternoon, and Fanny May fixed his favorite dinner, hot roast beef sandwiches with potatoes and gravy. During dinner, Tommy told him that he had never seen anybody so brave and he was so proud of his best friend. After dinner, Fanny May gave them both a small shot of whiskey, “just to celebrate manhood and maybe make everybody feel better.”

119. David smiled, but his mouth remained clamped, like that of a shell-shocked soldier.

120. Next day, Tommy told the entire story to the sheriff in his office, while David and Fanny May sat quietly. David never uttered a word, but merely focused on the man’s face and nodded when questioned. The sheriff, like the dusty, cluttered office seemed like an anachronism of the Old West: white-headed, lined face, breath tinged with morning whiskey and a six-shooter dangling low on his waist. David sighed with relief, when the interview ended, and shuffled behind Tommy and Fanny May as they returned to the store.

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122. Tommy and Fanny May walked with David toward the sheriff’s office. Over the last two days, Fanny May had been urging David to let out his feelings, while Tommy talked and questioned, and even admitted that he had decided against bashing his old man. David smiled, but only quietly nodded. Not a word, nothing.

123. A group of about forty people stood around the front porch of the office chatting light-heartily. Tommy smiled and patted David’s back, while Fanny May kept talking about a surprise.

124. David’s legs felt wobbly, but everybody seemed in good spirits so he remained calm as he walked up to the porch. The crowd hushed and the sheriff walked out the front door of his office, smiling.

125. “Well,” the sheriff said, “we’re here to honor a young man who rid Gallup of two of the most ornery, mean animals ever lived. I’m not much for speech makin’ so I’ll make this short and sweet. There’s a four-hundred dollar reward for anybody who captured the Scragg brothers. Now, they had to get convicted, but we don’t need to worry about a trial, since the Scraggs ain’t in an arguing mood no more.”

126. The sheriff paused and grinned. “We all talked and decided to split the money between Tommy and David. But we got our Indian Joe to make up a special silver medal for the sharp-shooting red-head who solved our problem.” The sheriff reached over and pinned a medal, stamped with “The Hero of Gallup” on a silver halo soldered to a five point star.

127. David’s eyes widened. He smiled, blushed, and cleared his throat. “Wow, thank you, thank you so much.”

128. “Well, at least he’s talkin’,” Tommy mumbled.

129. As David stood on the porch, a movie scene flashed through his mind. The Wizard of Oz had slipped out from behind the curtain and pinned a medal on the Cowardly Lion. He could hear the Wizard utter, You’ve always had courage, but you just needed a medal to prove it.

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