Fistful of Feet (3 page)

   When they finally reached Screwhorse, he let the lady get out first and then he stepped down off the stagecoach with his suitcase in front of his crotch. He saw the woman walk in the direction of
BETTY BLACK’S
and then thought that maybe she was a whore. If he’d had only gotten the courage to talk to her on the ride over, she might’ve thrown him a free one. Shit, it was just his luck riding all those miles with a woman like that without even knowing it.

   Bluford had more urgent plans, though. He had to get a room and then scope out the town. He knew that many of the citizens were supposedly pretty tough but figured he could probably swindle a few of them out of some cash before he moved on to the next town. After all, that was his area of expertise, wasn’t it? The Barnes clan had spent years honing their craft and they passed on that knowledge to Bluford who turned out to be the most successful confidence man in the family. He hustled and schemed his way through all of the towns he’d been through with no problem at all.

   With a spring in his step, Bluford walked over to the hotel, making sure to greet everyone who crossed his path. He found that most townspeople are suspicious of strangers unless they’re friendly and outgoing. The women especially warmed up to polite, clean-shaven young men and so that’s who he became: a handsome charmer. He had spent a lot of money on his suits, buying them from an English tailor in New York City. Appearance was everything and dressing fancy was what allowed Bluford to get far in his occupation as a cheat.

   As he made his way down Main Street, Bluford walked by a short man with a bald head. His skin had an orange tint and his teeth were too big for his mouth. The man said, “Hey you.”

   “Yes, sir?” Bluford stopped and smiled.

   “See that motherfucker over there?”

   “I’m sorry?”

   The man pointed across the street. “See that motherfucker?”

   Bluford politely shook his head. “I’m sorry, sir. All I see is a horse.”

   “That’s the motherfucker I’m talking about. See him?”

   “Uh, yes.”

   “You know what nerve that motherfucker had? He was talking about me again, spreading rumors.”

   Bluford slowly took a step but stopped when he saw the man raise his fist.

   “You going somewhere?” the man said. “And why the hell you dressed like that?”

   “Dressed like what, sir? I don’t understand.”

   “All clean and fancy like you’re one of those pretty boys from England. You from England?”

   “No, sir,” Bluford said. “But if you’ll excuse me, I do have to leave.”

   “Then get the hell out of here.” The bald man turned and looked at the horse across the street. “Yeah, that’s right, motherfucker! I’m talking about you!”

   Bluford quickly walked away and went into the hotel. At first sight, he wasn’t that impressed with it. He was used to finer accommodations. Still, he wasn’t about to make a fuss about it since the purpose of his visit to Screwhorse was not relaxation. He was there to work.

   Looking at the man behind the counter, Bluford said, “Hello, sir. I’d like to arrange for some lodging.”

   Kersey nodded.

   As Bluford signed the register, he said, “Is this the only hotel in town?”

   “Afraid so. Why?”

   Bluford smiled. “Oh, no reason, sir.”

   “You want to stay here or not?”

   “Oh yes sir, I certainly do,” Bluford said. “I do have a question, though. There was a man outside, seemed like something was wrong with him. He was threatening a horse. Should the sheriff be notified?”

   Kersey’s face turned pale. “That’s the Hard Candy Kid. You best stay away from him.”

   Bluford nodded. “That little man a bully, then?”

   “Don’t let his size fool you,” Kersey said. “He’s a killer.”

   “Oh,” Bluford said. “Well then,” He cleared his throat. He was glad that he hadn’t given the Hard Candy Kid a difficult time.

   Kersey said, “One piece of advice. You might want to pick up some sucking candy from the General Store. Next time you run into the Hard Candy Kid, just give him a piece and he’ll be more likely to leave you be.”

   “Thank you. I’ll look into that.” Bluford went up to his room. He wasn’t impressed with that either. There were huge stains in the rug as well as on the walls. It wasn’t worth making a fuss about it. That would just attract the wrong kind of attention.

   He unpacked his bags, took out his gear, and headed off to
BETTY BLACK’S
. It was time to get to work.

* * *

   Unknown to Bluford Barnes and Rebecca Bywater, someone was watching them from afar. It was someone who felt flushed with rage when Rebecca walked into the brothel and when Bluford tried unsuccessfully to cover his erection.

   One of them would have to die. The woman could be cut or drowned. She could be made to lick her own boots, spitting and drooling until they were completely covered in thick slop. Then she could be made to choke on her own boot leather, the foot stench filling her nostrils until her last breath was gone.

   The man could be stabbed and drowned in piss. He could be humiliated and tortured. He could be made to eat desert sand until his ass burned and bled.

   Someone was watching with glee, thinking about Rebecca’s breasts being sliced open and left there for the scorpions.

   Someone was giggling, savoring the thought of seeing the man beg as his torture increased.

   That someone was a killer.

   And the killer would kill again.

CHAPTER FOUR

   When Calamaro reached for his money, Stacklee pushed his hand away.

   “I’ll take care of it,” he said. “As much as I think you did a dumb thing, I do appreciate it. Least I can do is pay for your drink while you’re still breathing.”

   “Guys didn’t seem so tough.”

   “It’s not those guys you should be worried about. It’s William Lyons, the man they work for.”

   Calamaro shrugged. “That name supposed to mean something?”

   “He’s made a name for himself over the years mainly for being a cold son of a bitch. He was in the army. Killed lots of Indians, Mexicans, and basically anyone else ain’t like him.”

   “But he leaves you alone?”

   “He pretty much just ignores me. I’m just a dumb nigger to him, I guess. Lyons ain’t going to just walk up to a black man and shoot him. He wouldn’t want to waste a bullet. He’d feel it was like stomping on a bug. It wouldn’t be worth his time.”

   Calamaro sipped his whiskey and savored it. “What happened tonight, would that be a good reason for him to stomp on you?”

   “Don’t know. I’ve messed with those boys before and Lyons doesn’t seem to care all that much probably on account of them being dumb as shit, figure they can’t help but piss people off. What’s he going to do, kill everyone who doesn’t get along with those guys? He’d have to kill everyone in town.”

   “I’d still keep my eyes open, I was you.”

   “I always do,” Stacklee said. “But don’t get the wrong idea. This town is full of good people even though our mayor is a son of a bitch. And then there’s the Hard Candy Kid. He’s one to stay away from. Even William Lyons has enough sense to tread lightly around him.”

   Calamaro nodded. “Sounds to me like this town is full of tough guys.”

   “Maybe so,” Stacklee said. He knocked on the bar. “Hey Betty, come give us another bottle, will you?”

   Betty said, “Sure thing, Stack.” She set down a fresh bottle of whiskey in front of them. She locked her eyes on Calamaro’s. “Listen….what was your name again?”

   “Calamaro.”

   “Calamaro what?”

   “Just Calamaro.”

   “Listen, Calamaro,” Betty said. “I appreciate what you did for Stacklee. He’s a good friend and a good worker. But you’re not from around here. You don’t know this town or the people in it. It was mighty stupid of you to get involved. Stacklee here could’ve handled himself.”

   “I know that. I didn’t do it because I thought the man needed protecting. I did it because I’ve no patience for assholes who run their mouths.”

   Betty laughed. “Fair enough, fair enough.”

   One of her girls walked downstairs and told Betty that Mary wanted to speak to her.

   “Mind watching the bar, Stack?”

   “Sure thing,” Stacklee said. “You mind if I put our new friend to work? Maybe he can sweep the floor or something.”

   Betty winked. “If you can get him to do it, go ahead.”

   “I haven’t swept a floor in years so I can’t promise you I’ll do a good job,” Calamaro said, smiling.

   Stacklee laughed and patted the stranger on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you all you need to know.”

CHAPTER FIVE

   Mayor Douglas lived in a two story building just outside of Screwhorse. Many of the townspeople criticized the fact that the mayor didn’t live in town but none were brave enough to actually voice their grievances publicly. Therefore, Mayor Douglas was able to peacefully go about his business which mainly consisted of drinking expensive liquor and screwing his Mexican whore, Ana.

   When he had acquired Ana, Mayor Douglas planned on her simply being a silent fuck toy. Much to his dismay she proved to be an ambitious little slut who was as manipulative as she was a good screw.

   Mayor Douglas heard the hidden door in the wall open and saw Ana walk in. She was wearing only a skirt and was dragging a naked woman by the hair. The woman was olive skinned and the mayor figured she was probably one of those Italians he kept hearing about. He always told his men to nab any good looking bitch they came across. If anyone had a problem with it, then they were instructed to kill even if that meant exterminating a whole family. Atrocities could always be blamed on Indians.

   Ana brought the woman over to the mayor. She squeezed one of the woman’s breasts until it resembled a purple sack of jelly. The woman cried out and was answered by Ana’s hand as it slapped her face. “Tell the mayor your name.”

   The woman looked up fearfully and said, “Belladonna.”

   Ana slapped her again. “Belladonna what?”

   “Belladonna Cardinale.”

   Mayor Douglas looked closer at the woman and saw that her back was covered in red tattoos. That intrigued him and he knew he’d have fun looking at them while he screwed her from behind.

   “Miss Cardinale, I’m the mayor of this town. Do you know what that means?”

   The woman shook her head. “No.”

   “It means I can do any goddamn thing I want to do. If I want to make you my footstool, I will. If I want to make you lie on the floor while Ana here pisses all over you, I will. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

   The woman nodded. “Yes.”

   “For now I’m content to make you lean over my desk so I can poke that cute Italian pussy of yours. Maybe your ass, too. You ever been fucked in the ass? No, I don’t expect you would have. A lot of men don’t like it but the way I figure it, a little shit on a man’s pecker never hurt anybody.” He pointed to his trousers and Ana walked over and unbuckled them for him. She reached in and pulled out his small penis.

   He said, “So, Belladonna Cardinale, stand up, bend over, and take it like a good whore.”

   For the next fifteen minutes, Belladonna Cardinale endured the mayor’s mushroom-cap penis plunging inside her while Ana watched, cackling like a witch. She was always happy watching a weak woman got dominated. It reminded Ana of her younger self and all the pain she had to endure by the hands of her father and brothers. Because of that, she vowed never to be weak again.

   “Fuck her good,” Ana said, moving her fingers down to her crotch. “Fuck her until she’s bleeding.” She was disappointed when the mayor yelped and stopped his screwing. He wiped his brow with his forearm.

   “Get the hell out of my sight,” he said to Belladonna. She quickly moved away from him and went back through the hidden door.

   Ana smiled and said, “So how was she?”

   “I was talking to you, too, whore. Get the hell out of my sight,” Mayor Douglas said.

   Her smile turning into an angry frown, Ana turned abruptly and followed Belladonna through the door in the wall. She slammed it shut.

   Mayor Douglas was left alone in his office. He looked down at his penis and saw that it was now covered in the same intricate tattoos that had adorned Belladonna’s back.

   He spat on his palm and rubbed. The tattoos wouldn’t come off.

   “Those fucking Italians,” he said, moving his lit cigar towards his penis.

CHAPTER SIX

   Betty Black had been running the brothel ever since Screwhorse became a town. She prided herself on running a classy place. There were no smelly, toothless whores here like they had in the other mining towns. No sir, all of her whores were clean, pretty, and almost always whole.

   She walked up the stairs, wondering what the hell Mary wanted. Usually the girls took care of business themselves without having to bother Betty with the details. She loved the girls and would do anything for them but Betty just liked it better when she wasn’t being whined to about the customers.

   “Betty,” Mary said. “Timothy Horn’s here again.”

   “I know. I saw him go up with you. What’s the matter?”

   “I’m not sure I’m keen on doing what he wants.”

   Betty rolled her eyes. “Honey, what do I tell you girls? If you don’t want to do something, then just find another girl who will.”

   “I know, I know. Thing is, I already offered to get him another girl and he says that he won’t leave until I do it, no one else. He said I remind him of a girl he once knew. Trust me, if it was any other man you know I’d get Stacklee to throw him out.”

   “And we can’t do that. Then we’d have his uncle closing us down,” Betty said. She hated when the mayor’s nephew came in. It wasn’t that he was so much trouble. There are days when he was a perfect gentleman. It was just that he was just so goddamn crazy. There was something seriously wrong with the boy.

   Mary said, “Well, I don’t know what to do.”