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Welcome To The Bullpen
SHOWDOWN AT CULVER CITY
By Les Williams
He reached for the pistol that hung low and was tied down on his right hip.
“If you touch that hog leg Jake, It’ll be the last thing you do. Is that what you want, to die here on this dusty wind swept street? Having these good people see you make your biggest and last mistake?”
“Ya ain’t so tough. Maybe at one time in yer younger days you was. Yer past yer prime Lance. I’m a gonna’ to prove it.
The seconds ticked by. The only sound heard was that of some dry leaves blowing around the hardpan street.
“Can’t ya talk? Skerd, fer once in yer miserable life? It don’t matter none. Let’s get this here dance started.”
The kid grabbed iron. He was fast. At least he thought he was. Jakes pistol had just cleared leather, when a bullet from Lance’s Walker Colt slammed into him. The kids shot went harmlessly into the dirt in front of the lawman.
“Ya shot me, ya old son of…”
Jake dropped to his knees as he looked at the blood starting to puddle on the ground in front of him. Struggling to try getting his words out, he took a labored breath then said, “Yer still almighty fast. I tho, thought I had ya beat.”
“Your not the first one who has made that mistake.”
Then the young gunman let out his last breath and his eyes glazed over as he fell forward.
Marshall Lance Kelly looked down at the lifeless young man. As he turned around, a few of the towns people started to come out the false fronted buildings. Two men from the Red Horse Saloon came up to Lance.
“You want us to take him over to Docs? Not that Evens can do anything for him. Sam can clean him up and have the kid put on ice. I expect old man Saunders will be in town soon to take Jake back to his ranch for burial.”
“Do that Del.”
“Sure thing Lance. What was this all about, any how?” asked the grizzled old miner.
“The usual. Young Saunders was trying to build a reputation. Will they ever learn?”
“Most won’t Lance. Come on Bos; help me get this kid over to Docs place. I sure could use another drink this morning before we head out to our diggings.”
The two miners take a hold of Jake, and carry him across the street to the doctor’s office. Lance watches for a minute, turns around, and walks to his office. He climbs the steps and enters the building. Over the top is a weathered sign, Culver City Marshall’s Office.
Lance puts his weathered gray sombrero on a wall hook, and then eases his lean six-foot frame into a desk chair. He runs his fingers through his black hair. He is part Indian, and some of that shows. His skin has been tanned by years of being out in the sun. Lance Kelly looks younger that his forty years. A man, who has made his life with a gun, does not normally live so long.
Outside, the sound of footsteps can be heard on the boardwalk. The door of the office squeaks on rusty hinges, long over due in need of oil, as it swings opens and a man enters. He too, has a star pinned on his shirt. He places his hat next to Lance’s, and takes a seat in a chair next to the scarred wood desk.
“What a way to start your day.”
“I was just hoping to go over to have a little breakfast at Zwible’s Café”
James Bronson is younger than Lance by twelve years. He is two inches shorter than Lance with wavy brown hair girls can't resist running their fingers through. Not that James minds. They have been marshalling together in Culver City for three years now.
“Was that Jake Saunders you shot?”
“Yeah it was. It won’t be long before old man Henry comes storming in here, demanding satisfaction. I took no pleasure in killing the kid. He didn’t leave me any choice.”
“We could ride out to the H Bar S Ranch. Meet with Henry, try to explain what happened.”
“I’m sure he’s already aware of what took place this morning. I saw his older boy Casey riding out in a hurry, just before I came into the office.
“I would've thought he’d come over to brace you.”
“You know those two boys can’t even spit, without the old man’s approval. Henry’ll be here. It’s only a matter of time. I only hope we can talk some sense into him, settle him down without further bloodshed. Ever since his wife Addie died, he’s become a different man, more withdrawn, not as sociable.”
At the H Bar S Ranch, Henry Saunders’s breakfast of hot cakes and syrup is interrupted by the sound of a fast approaching horse. A man can’t even set down to meal in peace any more, he thinks to himself as he slides his chair back, and goes out the door to stand on the small porch. Seconds later, he recognizes the horses rider as that of his oldest boy. Casey reins up the lathered horse, and starts yelling.
“Pa, Pa! Jakes been gunned down. He’s dead”
“What are you saying boy? Get off that horse. Let’s walk him around to cool down while you tell me what this is all about. Who killed Jake?”
The father and son walk the horse while the boy goes on to describe what took place in town. Once the animal is cooled down, Casey takes the saddle off and gives him a quick rub down before turning him loose in the corral.
That afternoon, after a quick meal, Henry and Casey mount up for the ride into Culver City, and a showdown with Lance. On the way in to town, the old man tells his son to get his brother ready for the ride back to the ranch and burial. Casey is not happy about his father’s decision. He wants to take on the Marshall himself, but he knows his father’s wrath can be swift.
Looking out the office window, James calls to Lance, who’s going over some wanted dodgers at his desk.
“Here comes trouble Lance. Old man Saunders and Casey just rode up to Docs office. Looks like just the boy is going inside. Henry is tying his horse off at the Red Horse Saloon. He’s coming this way.”
“I better go get this over with.”
“You want me to back you?”
“Might not be a bad idea. Grab a scattergun and be ready in case I need you.”
Lance rises from his chair, puts on his sombrero and steps out on to the boardwalk, just as Henry Saunders approaches.
“That’s far enough Henry. I’m sorry about Jake. You know what a hot head he was. He left me no choice.”
“I got only the one boy now. Ya know I can’t let this go. What’d Casey think?”
“That you finally showed some sense Henry. If I gun you down, and you know I will if I have to, what’s to become of Casey? Do you think he can run your spread by himself?”
“The boy’ll do OK, cause I’m a gonna be there with him. Some day someone’s gonna take ya down. Might be I’m the one who done it.”
“Let’s say you do. That’ll put a big target on you. Young guns and other hombres will come looking for the man who gunned down Lance Kelly. You’ll never have another peaceful day your life, always looking over your shoulder. Is that the kind of life Addie would have wanted you to live?”
“You leave her out of this.”
“I can’t Henry. She was my sister. Whether you like it or not, she is a part of what is about to take place, a big part. You know that as well as I do.”
The old rancher takes off his Stetson and wipes his brow with his shirtsleeve. He gives a deep sigh. Placing his hat back on his graying hair, he steps up to the boardwalk next to the Marshall.
“Yer right Lance. I ain’t no gunman. I wouldna’ stood a chance against the likes of you. Dang that hot headed Jake anyhow. If it weren’t for them dime novels, what was making gunmen look bigger n’ life, and the whiskey at the Red Horse, he’d still be here. I just knowd’ he would come to no good. I’m to blame. I done a poor job of rasin’ him.”
“Don’t be to harsh on yourself Henry. Jakes getting killed by a gun was bound to happen.”
“I suppose yer right Lance. Casey and I will take Jake home now. We’ll bury him next to Addie. I’m just glad she was not alive to see how Jake ended up. I don’t blame ya none Lance”
“Thanks Henry. I’ll stop out in a few days to see how you’re getting along. Culver City is a good town. A man could do a lot worse.”
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REVIEW 1
Good first effort, Les. Folks, Les is usually on the reviewing end having read a prodigious number of westerns and being a book reviewer for Midwest Book Reviews among others. The only critique I'd offer is to say there are a couple of spots where presnt tense feels awkward to me, and the use of western dialogue should be hinted at more than reproduced. Voice and flow is good.
Review 2
Great short story! Kept my interest up to the end!
Review 3
I enjoyed the small surprise with the 'sister' connection near the end. Very good use of dialogue that keeps the story moving forward. I did, however, find the tense shift from past to present a bit confusing. Also, I was somewhat disappointed that Henry gave in so easily. But then again, you told us that he's not the same since poor Addie died! Looking forward to reading your work again.
Review 4
I'd just like to say it's too bad the story started off with the kid gunman's holster worn low and tied down. There was never any such holster in the frontier West. That tied-down holster was a dime novel and Hollywood invention.
My only other suggestion is for the dialogue. Publishers these days won't touch anything that isn't written to fairly modern standards. Words like "ya" for "you" and "skerd" for "scared" just don't work for the present-day reader.
Other than that, a good start.
Review 5
A very good yarn, but I believe the end warrants more of a confrontation. I thought the father calmed down far too quickly and perhaps son number two would also be in the action.. Other than a few typos a well written story,
Good luck.
L. Roger Quilter.
As he turned around, a few of the towns people started to come out the false fronted buildings.
Typo
As he turned around, a few of the town’s people started to come out the false fronted buildings.
“Most won’t Lance. Come on Bos; help me get this kid over to Docs place.
Typo?
“Most won’t Lance. Come on Boys; help me get this kid over to Docs place.
Seconds later, he recognizes the horses rider
Typo.
Seconds later, he recognizes the horse’s rider
I done a poor job of rasin’ him.”
Typo.
I done a poor job of raisin’ him.”
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