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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1276607-The-Family-Way
Rated: GC · Short Story · Western · #1276607
Was the West too wild for one to honor thy father?
The Family Way

Tim White
© 2004

I wasn’t such a mean bugger in my younger days, Mister. Started out on the right track, folks tell me. So did my Pappy.
I was only fourteen when he up an’ died on Mama. She didn’t deserve that, I say. But he sure did, bein’ drunk an’ all, botherin’ them ladies at the whorehouse. Well, I guess you can’t call em ladies, bein’ whores an’ such. But Pappy didn’t ride with the best of crowds nor bed with best of ladies. Always lettin’ the drink git the better of him. He was a fighter, though. Always went down fightin’. I reckon that was his last stand there at that saloon in Smoke Hill. Yep, his time was up.
Pappy always told me that every man has a time, an’ that time would certain come fer him whether he was ready or not. An’ I say he was right. I says that ‘cause I’m just like Pappy.
So that’s how I ended up in this here town, Mister. I come lookin’ fer a good time with them harlots ya got in that tavern over yonder. I always liked a real good whiskey an’ a bad, bad woman. Just like Pappy.
But I knew right off I’d find some kinda trouble in yer town, Mister. Them ladies was lookin’ mighty worn, an’ the men were lookin’ bored with em. Like they’d all had a go at each one twice. An’ nothin’ stirs trouble like a man with a tired mind. They was a whole room full of em. I knows, ‘cause I seen it before in Pappy’s eyes. An’ folks seen it me, they says, ‘cause I’m just like Pappy.
First off, they seemed happy just to let me go about my business an’ spend my money. But I gots one too many whiskeys in me. I started tellin’ em about that ninety dollars I had in my purse. Now don’t you look at me that way, Mister. I earned them dollars fair an’ square driving cattle outta Cheyenne. But them fellers paid no heed as to where I got it. They just knew they wanted it. I’d said too much an’ it was gonna cost me a handful of trouble. I’m just that way, sometimes. Saying too much and makin’ trouble fer myself. Just like Pappy.
So them fellers thought it best to relieve me of my hard-earned silver. They figured no one man should have his saddlebags weighed down with too much, you know? They was thinkin’ a man oughta share the wealth. An’ I don’t blame em one bit, bein’ they was liquored up an’ all. Meanin’ if I was one of em, I’d have thought the same way. ‘Cause I know my Pappy woulda thought that way. An’ I’m just like Pappy.
So they gits together this here poker game. They reckon they was gonna cheat me outta that ninety dollars I sweat fer on the range. But I had a trick up my sleeve, I tell you. Facts is, I had seven of em up there. A feller should always bring a few of his own cards to a game, I say. Now some might say that was cheatin’. But I’ll tell ya, Mister, I was just evenin’ out the score. Cause them fellers had it in fer me from the start. Poker is a right vicious game. A feller needs an edge at that table. Leastwise, that’s what my Pappy used to say. An’ I knows it well, ‘cause he used to cheat me at cards before he got hisself done in. Yep, cheatin’ his own boy at cards. Before I was even old enough to drink with him at the table. I suppose I might be doin’ the same were it that I had kids. Cause I’m just like Pappy.
Anyway, them fellers got them poker hands runnin’ pretty hot fer a bit. I seen em workin’ together, I was watchin’. That one feller, you must know him, with the tattoo on his knuckles. Well, he done tap his cards twice with his ring finger when he was tellin’ his buddies he had a bluff hand. An’ next to him, the man with a harlot hangin’ off his arm. She was right pretty of course, but she was in on the game too. Whenever he had three of a kind, she’d get to rubbin’ his neck. Six times fer three sixes, eight times fer three eights. You know what I mean, mister, bein in the bankin’s business an’ all. You is surely good with numbers yerself.
For me, poker is all the cipherin’ I know. I never went to no school. Been working and stealin’ a livin’ since I weren’t yet a man. I had brothers comin’ up behind me I had to feed. Mama had her hands full. No sir, there was no schoolin’ fer me. Just earnin’ grub any way I could find. Some ways good, some bad. Just like my Pappy.
Well, I used that poker cipherin’ to tell me which cards was used up in a hand. That part comes in nice when they try to pull a ruse on a feller. An’ I could see this one comin’ a long ways off. You see, what they do, mister, is rustle up a couple of good sized hands with maybe two or even four dollars in a pot. Some they win, some they lose. That keeps a feller feelin’ lucky an’ he keeps playin’, see. But then there’s this one big hand comin’. You can tell when it comes. There’s a harlot hangin’ off of every man’s arm, even mine. An’ two fellers are blowin’ smoke from cigars as big as bread so you can’t see all they’re doin’. Sounds pretty smart, huh? But they don’t know that I got cards up my sleeve. So they run up this big kitty, and bigger plans fer me to lose to it. After that, see, they’d expect me to stay a while and try to win it all back. Then they’d keep whittlin’ away at what I got left.
Now I knows all this, ‘cause I learned it from one of the best card cheats that ever rode Wyoming. An’ I learned it all real young. So I had plenty of time to learn to cheat good. Real good. I done learn to cheat just like Pappy.
So when I pulled them two cards outta my shirt an’ into that hand that won me seventy dollars of their money, they was none too pleased. One of em even jumped up and drew his gun before I’d gathered all the cash. Ya can’t blame him, though. One of the cards I slipped into the game was in his hand, too. I reckon my cipherin’ weren’t the best. But I suppose in a bank, you’d see a lotta folk that can’t do no cipherin’ at all, right, Mister?
Well, since my cipherin’ up an’ died on me like my Pappy did, I got to wonderin’ what he’d have done in the same place. I started feelin’ a bit more sober right about then, too. I reckoned a feller like that gambler with a Colt on me just wouldn’t hurt a lady, especially in front of all them townfolk. So I grabbed that whore that was hangin’ off my arm and whirled her up in front of me as I stood and pulled my Remington. I knew I weren’t gonna bed no whore tonight, so I figured to use her in a different way. She weren’t too pleasant about it, though. Strugglin’ an’ such. I had to hold on to her real tight, until she saw she was lookin’ down the barrel of both my gun and the other feller’s.
Least, she calmed down he backed off an’ lowered his gun. I knew, though, he was just figurin’ up another plan. I could see it in his face. He was thinkin’ too fast. Getting’ nervous. An’ I didn’t help none when I made that harlot gather up the winnings and fill my holster with it. Best place fer it, seein’ as I was gonna hold on to my gun fer a while.
Now, it seems to me, Mister, that you got some people in this town that don’t rightly think things through. But I suppose that every town’s got em. One of em was another player at the table, and he went fer his sidearm. Maybe he was thinkin’ I wouldn’t see him go for it. But he was wrong, an’ I put a bullet through his neck and into a shot glass on the next table. I reckon the drinker was mad that I’d spilled his whiskey. The player, though, well he weren’t mad at nothin’ no more.
It seems, too, that my shot was loud enough to hush the place. So havin’ everyone’s attention, I decided it was time to make my way outta town. I’d sorta worn out my welcome here. But it seems that I turned out to be a hungry kinda feller. That’s why I never left town, but ended up here in your bank, Mister. I got me a greedy side. Just like Pappy.
Now, you’re probably wonderin’ why I happened into this here bank of yours after stirrin up such a hornet’s nest down the street. It ain’t no coincidence. You see, my Pappy done taught me to read as a young feller. Cipherin? That ain’t fer me. But readin? I done caught onto that real good. So I picks up the paper back there in Cheyenne. And I takes to readin’ it. An’ I sees it got the latest about that railroad goin’ through just south of here. Not just that, but they has an advertisement fer jobs workin’ on buildin’ it. They need people somethin’ awful, too. ‘Cause they even says the wages is twenty dollars paid on the fifteenth of every month.
Now I sees by that look, Mister, that you just figured why I didn’t arrive here just by chance tonight. Yep, it’s the fourteenth of June tonight, and I reckoned that your bank here was the closest to that railroad. So I just knew all that payroll cash money would have come off of today’s stage and be sittin’ right here waitin’ to be paid out tomorrow. That greedy side turned me to stayin’ here in town and collecting.
Heck, I know I been longwinded an’ all, but I was just waitin’ for the law outside to get settled in behind their guns. They been waitin’ a while fer me to come out, and by the sounds of all that shoutin’, they is sayin’ I’m overdue. What do you think I ought to tell em? Aw, shucks, Mister. I plum forgot it might be hard to talk havin’ your tongue cut an’ all. Sakes, I reckon I got more blood on your face from shavin your beard with this here half-dull knife than from cuttin’ your tongue. Either way, it makes for an awful sight.
Now you just remember, Mister. This here Remington I’m tyin’ to your hand ain’t loaded, so you ain’t got to worry about shootin’ none of your friends outside by mistake. More important, you gotta think that they ain’t gonna know you with all that blood, an’ me having switched clothes with you. So don’t you go blamin’ them friends of yours for shootin’ you when I push you out the front door now. Course, I won’t be around to make no apology to nobody. I’ll be goin’ out the back to get that horse I stashed a while ago. Yeah, I know, my Pappy woulda gone down fightin’. He weren’t no coward. But that’s the way I am. That’s about the only way I ain’t like Pappy.
© Copyright 2007 spectrequill (spectrequill at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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