Rio Loco (3 page)

I told him what Owl Shit had did in the bar earlier and how I had Happy and Butcher and Sly all over to the jailhouse. I also told him that Chugwater and some a' his boys was just downstairs and what I figgered their intentions was.

“What do you want me to do, Barjack?” he said.

“Buckle on your shooter and get over to the jail,” I said. “We need all the help we can get.”

His pretty little gal jumped up from off a' the bed and reached for her own shooting iron. “I'll go too,” she said. I never argued on account a' I had saw her shoot before, and she could beat most men. That made six of us, and I thought the odds had improved considerable. We was all of us pretty damn good hands with weapons, and three of us, Miller, his woman, and Sly, was goddamn good. Hell, I figgered we could stand off a whole shitting army.

I tuck note a' the fact that Miller had buckled on his own Merwin Hulbert self-extracting revolver, what was just the same as what I carried. He had it because I had recommended it to him, and he had went and bought the last one in the gun shop in Asininity. That there kinda puffed
me up a little bit. Well, them two headed for my marshaling office, and I went back downstairs kinda slow and relaxed. I figgered the five a' them could handle any situation what might develop right away.

Chugwater and his little gang was still a-setting down there. As I made my way to my table, Chugwater stood up and walked over. “You're not watching the jail, Marshal,” he said.

“What do I need to watch it for?” I said back at him.

He looked back at his little gang and nodded, and they all got up and went outside. “Oh, you just never know what might happen,” he said, and he turned and walked to the front door and on outside.

Well, that was all the hint I needed to figger out that he was up to something. Aubrey come bringing me a tumbler full a' whiskey, but I waved him off. “Hold it for me,” I said, and I got up and headed for the door. Before I had reached it, I heard some gunshots. When I got out on the boardwalk, I seen two empty horses down in front a' the jail and two bodies on the ground out in the street. I didn't see Sly nowhere. I did see Chugwater at a safe distance away a-watching. The three cowhands what weren't yet kilt were still a-setting on their horses and shooting into the jailhouse.

Then I seen a hand with a six-gun in it poke itself out a winder and fire, and another one of Chugwater's men dropped outta his saddle and
plopped in the dirt. They was only just two left, and they turned their horses and commenced to riding away. I stepped out in the street and hauled out my own Merwin Hulbert and tuck careful aim and squeezed the trigger. It were a pretty long shot, but by God, one a' the fleeing bastards throwed his arms up high and tumbled back'ards off his horse. He done a kinda flip and landed on his face, and he didn't move no more. Chugwater caught up with the last one, and the two a' them rode off towards his ranch together.

I walked on down to the jailhouse and went inside. “Anyone hurt?” I said.

“None of us are hit,” said Butcher.

“Good,” I said. “We kilt four a' them.”

“I saw you get that one from down the street,” said Sly. “That was a good shot.”

“Well,” I said, “I couldn't let you all have all the fun, could I?”

“Where was Chugwater?” said Happy.

“He had rode on ahead and was watching from a safe distance,” I told them. “Long as he's got cowboys to get shot, he ain't going to put his own self in no danger. Not even for his baby brother.”

I said that last loud enough for Owl Shit to hear it too. “Chugwater ain't a-skeered a' you,” Owl Shit yelled. “He'll come in here and get you yet.”

“Happy,” I said, “fetch me a bucket a water outta the back room.”

Happy went through the door to the back room. He come back in a minute or so later with a bucket a' water and I looked at it, but I never made to take
it off a' him. Instead, I said, “Now throw it on Owl Shit.” Happy walked to the cell and slung the bucket, sloshing water all over Owl Shit.

“Goddamn it,” Owl Shit said. “You can't treat a prisoner like that. That ain't right. I might catch a goddamn cold in here all wet like this.”

“That was just to get your attention,” I said. “Now, I don't want to hear no more noise out a' you. The next time you piss me off, it'll be worse. You ain't been fed yet, have you?”

He shuck his head no.

“Well, if you piss me off again, you won't be fed. I'll let you starve in there.”

I walked over to my desk and took out the bottle and some glasses, and I poured drinks all around. Sly even took a short one. He never liked to drink in case he was to need use a' his guns. That never bothered me none, though, nor did it bother Happy or Butcher. Even Miller, the Churkee, weren't above having a snort or two just about any time. I think he liked it even more than the rest of us on account a' you wasn't supposed to let a Indian have a drink.

“Well,” said Butcher, “I guess we whipped them, all right.”

“They'll be back,” said Happy.

“How soon, do you think?” Butcher asked.

“I don't believe it will be today,” I said. “Sly, why don't you and Churkee and Pistol”—I called Churkee's gal Pistol—“hang around here? Me and these other two will be back after a while.”

“All right,” Sly said.

I motioned to Happy and Butcher to follow me, and we all went outside. I commenced to leading the way over to the Hooch House.

“Where we going?” said Butcher.

“We're going to the Hooch House to get us a drink,” I said.

The Hooch House was plenty busy. I even had to chase someone away from my own private table, and my Bonnie was a-helping ole Aubrey out behint the bar pouring drinks. She seen me come in, and she come a-bouncing over to the table. “Barjack,” she said, setting down beside a' me and hugging me most near to death, “I didn't chase them people away from your own private table on account a' me and Aubrey was so busy back yonder, but I was fixing to just as soon as I got me a chance.”

“That's all right, sweet ass,” I said. “I tuck keer of it just fine. You want to get us some drinks here?”

She never got up. She just only raised up her arm and waved it around, and ole Aubrey forgot everything what he was a-doing and hurried over with four drinks. He set them around on the table and hurried back to the bar to whatever it was he was a-doing before I so rudely interrupted his ass. I picked mine up and tuck me a good long drink a' that wonderful stuff.

“How come you three to be over here anyhow?”
Bonnie said. “I thought you was a-going to stay in the office as long as you was a-holding Owl Shit in there.”

“Churkee and his woman and Sly is all over there,” I said. “I think they can handle it all right. We're just taking us a break, is all, from all that there hard work we been a-doing.”

“Oh,” she said. “I see.”

But I got the feeling that she never bought into that there hard work stuff I was a-laying on her. I didn't give a shit, though. I had me another long drink. I slipped my right hand through the stobs in the back a' her chair and grabbed me a hunk a' ass and kinda squeezed on it, and she kinda twitched all over and give me a look. “Barjack,” she said, kinda scolding like.

“What, sugar lumps?” I said.

She never answered me then. She just only picked up her little ole pink drink, whatever it was, and tuck a polite sip of it. She ain't never been the same since ole Sly hit town and commenced on his polite ways all the damn time. My curiosity got the better a' me, though. I wondered what that pink shit tasted like, so I picked up her glass and tuck me a swallow. I set the glass back in front a' her and shuddered all over me and made a face.

“Goddamn,” I said. “That tastes like parlor woman piss.”

Happy and Butcher went to laughing loud. I give them a hard look. Happy, when he could, said, “Barjack, whenever did you taste any parlor woman's piss?”

“I never did,” I said, “but if I was to, that there is what it would taste like.”

Bonnie whomped me real hard in the ribs with her left elbow and like to knocked me over sideways.

“Damn,” I said. “What the hell was that for?”

“For picking on my drink,” she said. “I don't never say nothing about what you drink. It ain't nice to pick on what someone likes. How'd you like it if I was to do you that way?”

“Hell, I wouldn't give a damn.”

“All right, then,” she said, “go on and drink your horse's piss.”

I picked up my glass and said, “Be glad to,” and I tuck me another gulp. My glass was kinda low by then, and Bonnie, she waved at Aubrey. He seen her and he seen my glass, so she didn't need to holler the way she done. She done that outta meanness. She hollered, “Aubrey, have you collected any more piss outta that damn mule out back?”

Aubrey looked at her kinda weird, like he didn't know what the hell she was talking about.

“Barjack needs some more of it in his glass,” she said.

Course, ever'one in the place heard her, and most of them looked at me and went to laughing. I felt my face burn and knowed it turned red. Aubrey brung the bottle over and refilled my tumbler. Bonnie lifted up her glass, and I thought about something to say but decided it would be best to not say it. Instead I said, “Enjoying your pretty pink drink, Bonnie?”

She lifted her glass and tuck a sip. “Yes, indeed I am. Thank you, Marshal. How is your whiskey, dear one?”

“It's just fine,” I said. “The damn best whiskey money can buy.”

Right about then, I heared some gunshots outside. I couldn't tell exactly from where they was coming, but I had me a idee. They was coming most probable, I figgered, from the jailhouse and my marshaling office. With the trouble I was expecting, I figgered it had to be ole Chugwater or his boys trying to turn Owl Shit a-loose. I tuck me another gulp a' whiskey and set the tumbler down hard on the table.

“Goddamn it,” I said. “Happy, you and Butcher go take a look and see where that's a-coming from.”

They both jumped up and headed for the door. I had me another slurp a' that wonderful stuff and waited. In another minute, Butcher come back to the table. He didn't set down, though. “Barjack,” he said. “There's four men out front in the street on horseback. They're holding their guns on Happy. They want you to come out.”

“Where'd them shots come from?” I said.

“Oh,” he said. “Down at the jail.”

Well, I shoved back my chair and stood up.

“Barjack,” Bonnie said, “be careful.”

“You know me,” I said, “I'm always careful. Go on back out there with Happy,” I said to Butcher.

“Yes, sir,” he said, and he headed back for the door. I went to walking toward the back door. I cussed myself as I went on account a' it was just
only ole Happy what had the sense to tote along the shotgun I had give him. Mine and Butcher's was both back in my office. I went out the back door and walked around the building. On the way, I hauled out my trusty Merwin Hulbert forty-five-caliber self-extracting revolver and helt it ready. When I come to the front corner a' the building, I slowed my ass down. I peeked out around the corner and tuck me a look. Them four men was setting on their horses with their guns out a-looking down at Happy and Butcher and not looking in my direction a'tall.

I tuck a bead on one man's back and stepped out in the street. I pulled the trigger just as I hollered, “Put them guns down or I'll shoot.” I hit the son of a bitch right smack in the middle a' his back. He twitched and dropped his weapon and fell off a' his horse, plopping hard on the street. His horse went to jumping around. The other three all looked in my direction, and when they done that, Butcher and Happy both went to shooting. I shot one more time too, and I dropped another one. I seen both a' the other two fall, but I don't know who shot which one.

“Make sure they're dead,” I said, and my two depitties went out in the street to kick the bodies and make certain. I walked on around to join them.

“They're dead all right, Barjack,” Happy said.

“Good, let's check the jailhouse.” There was still shots coming from that direction, and we commenced walking thattaway. The men down at the jail wasn't setting on their horses. They was dismounted
and hiding around somewheres. On our way down there, I tried to locate them. I seen one behint a watering trough in the street. I knowed that ole Happy was a good shot with a handgun from a fairly long distance. “Happy,” I said.

“Yes, sir?”

“See that feller crouched down behint the watering trough down yonder?”

“I see him.”

“Can you pick him off from here?”

“I reckon I can.”

“Well, do it, then, goddamn it,” I said.

Happy stopped walking and handed his shotgun to me. I tuck it. He leaned up against a post what was holding the overhanging roof up over the boardwalk and he pulled out his Colt. He cocked it and stretched out his arm, and he put his left hand underneath it to steady it. He tuck a while aiming, and I was about to tell him to hurry it on up, but then he pulled the trigger. The rat down there behint the trough jerked. Then he stood up and leaned over forward, and then he fell, his top half hanging down in the water. Water sloshed out over the edges a' the trough.

“Good shot, Happy,” I said.

“Damn good,” said Butcher.

“Do either one a' you see any a' the other ones?” I asked them.

They didn't answer me right off. They was a-looking around.

“Marshal,” said Happy, “I think one might be hiding in there in the doorway to the hardware store.”

I handed him back his shotgun. “Spray the doorway with this here scattergun,” I said. “Wait till we get a little closer, though.”