An American Trail.

May 1856

I got out of bed early today. So early I hadn’t woken up and awoke to find myself sleep walkin’ into the housekeeper’s chambers. ‘least that’s what I told her.

Since I had risen early, I finished myself off, packed away my weapon, kissed my wife goodbye and set downstairs to pack my gun for the journey. Today was the day I would set out on the trail of the notorious Lightnin’ Lance Likely, the most wanted man in America.

I could see my wife despaired at the thought of my departure, her big brown eyes pleaded with me to stay, but after I ‘splained my cause, I could see she understood. I gave her one last lingering kiss to remember me by and she melted into my arms, giving me a little somethin’ to keep her with me during the coming months.

Dysentery.

After a hearty breakfast of steak, whiskey and eggy bread, I bid my doting housekeeper goodbye and set out to shoe my horse for the long journey ahead. She’s a tough old mare and put up quite the fight again’ shoeing, but I got them on with a little force and saddled her up for the days of intense traveling we had ahead. We set off at Dawn.

Dawn ran like Hell, diving into a big ol’ pile of manure for cover. With a wild laugh we galloped off into the sunrise, setting a course for Excitement, Justice and Vengeance.

I could still taste my darlin’ wife, Clandestine, on my lips. We’d been through some hard times together and she’d always stood by me. That poor girl had seen her beloved threatened by the meanest outlaws in the land and shot point blank by many of his brother Marshals during the attempted capture of these vigilantes. And at Christmas parties when spirits were a-flowin’. Heh heh, those guys.

I licked my lips and could taste her sweet scent. I promised mysel’ when I arrived home I would dedicate my time to her. Building that outhouse she’d always wanted, fixin’ the damn leakin’roof and finally getting round to digging her grave and burying her since she’d been dead these last 4 years.

Unfortunately it seems I had one too many fingers of whiskey that mornin’, as 3 miles into the voyage I sobered up and realized I’d bid my horse goodbye and shoed my housekeeper by mistake. She kept up as well she could, but when she threw a shoe on Grange Hill Ridge, I had to shoot her.

My journey had already taken a turn for the worse, I was on foot and Excitement Gulch was nearly 50 miles away.

I carried on on foot. Ol’ Justice J. Lawman wasn’t going to let a thing like a lack of a good horse stop a quest to protect the peace. I’m a strong and resourceful man, I kept vigilantly trudging forward on the trail of Likely until I couldn’t bear the pain anymore. My feet were sore, more blisters than skin on my sole. I had a bit of a sit down and ate my cucumber sandwiches.

As luck would have it, within the hour a passing carriage stopped, seeing a decorated Lawman in distress. I was invited aboard an' set about askin' the driver how far we had to go. He said Excitement was far from around the corner, it was precisely 49 and a half miles away; we’d be there by sunset.

Shit it.

- Sheriff Justice J. Lawman.

No comments: