Texas Strangers

Texas Strangers
By: Aaron Farrell

         Sheriff Dan downed another shot of whiskey and cringed form the burn. The saloon in town was the only place he could find peace. Not because of the drinks or the fine young waitresses that scampered about the place. It was more the noise that kept him calm. The shouting, singing, dancing, and life of the place is what kept him sane. Besides, the town he ran was almost too damn quiet. He would walk down the dusty main street at night and think how much he hated the place. It wasn’t a bad town though. Locked away some where in the middle of Texas. Or at least that’s where he thought it was. Shit Texas is too big to tell any way.
         The bartender, a pudgy man, walked over to Sheriff Dan and posted his hands on the counter. “Can I get you another one Sheriff?”
         Dan noticed some whiskey on his cuff and tried to wipe it off on the back of his pants. “Why not?” Dan took another look at his cuff. “Damn, that’s stained for good.”
                The bartender turned away then stopped and returned his attention to Dan. “Sheriff?” said the bartender with a silly looking grin on his face. “You sure you should be drinkin’ on duty. I mean, it don’t look very professional.” The bartender slapped the counter top and giggled to himself at his own joke.
         “First of all,” Dan laughed, “I’m always on duty and if I didn’t have a drink ever I think I would lose my sanity.”  The bartender slapped the counter again and started to howl. “And second of all the only shit that goes down here are the drinks into tired old men’s stomachs.”
         “Like you.”
         “Like me!” The Sheriff laughed. But it was true. He was getting old and he thought about retiring. He had no family so he lived alone, with no real friends but his two trusty old pistols. Dan wasn’t sure why but he always kept those two near by. He even slept with them which he knew was silly, but he could never rest easy without them.
         As the night wore on and the cigar smoke in the saloon got heavier and heavier Dan felt his eye lids drop, and he dozed into a little nap with his whiskey glass still in his hand.
         Then it happened. Some noticed the rough looking stranger as he entered the Saloon and even caught the eyes of a couple of waitresses but he paid them all no mind. His large brimmed hat hid most of his face and he was smoking a crumbly and wet cigar. He was carrying too. Two pistols with red wood handles and shined like mirrors. The stranger’s dark savage eyes scanned the saloon. He saw gamblers, women, a fat bartender, a piano in the far end, and sleeping old man with a shot of whiskey in his hand.
         Dan woke up when this shifty looking man grabbed a stool next too him and waved down the bartender. The bartender hustled over and asked plainly, “What can I get ya?” The man glanced at Dan’s drink and ordered, “ I’ll have what he’s havin’.” and the bartender rushed off. Dan scanned this man and knew he was from out of town.
         “So where ya from?”
         “Texas.”
         “I meant what ‘town‘. Texas is a big place.”
         “Not as big as you think Sheriff.”
         ‘Great,’ thought Dan, ‘a smart ass.’ He threw some more whiskey down his throat and he caught a glimpse off the man’s pistols. As good as he was with guns he couldn’t recognize the make of them. He figured they must be custom. A very expensive custom made pair of shooters that looked more like they belong in rich man‘s show case. Not in the dusty holsters of wonderer. He took another long look at the stranger.
         “Well, were are you headed?”
         “Most likely, death.”
         “Death?”
         “Yessiree Sheriff. Pretty sure that’s were we are all headed any way in the long run.” The man’s drink arrived and he finished it quickly. “Sometimes, it comes sooner than most expect am I right?” Something about the stranger made Dan’s hairs stand.
         “I mean look at it this way Sheriff. When do you expect to die?”
         Dan took his question as sort of a challenge and cleared his throat. “Well pretty soon I reckon. Considering my age of course, I don’t think I have much time left.”
         Some how this was humorous to the stranger because he smiled. “Well I guess I was wrong then. You seem to know that death is on its way sheriff. And the reason for it is right in front of you, Danny boy.”
         “Excuse me but have we met before?”
         The stranger licked his lips and looked into the corner of his eyes to think. “Nope, not that I can remember at least.”
         “Then how do you know my name?”
         The stranger laughed and slapped Dan’s back. “Get out of here! Your names Danny? Now ain’t that some thing. I call every one Danny boy. Just a figure of speech.”
         “Figure of speech huh?” Dan knew the stranger was not telling him every thing. He wanted to ask about the stranger’s guns but he figured it wouldn’t be safe if they were stolen as he suspected. The stranger seemed to be in a good mood though.
         “You have any family sheriff?” said the stranger.
         Dan leaned back and looked at his company with a squinted eye. “Who the hell wants to know?”
         The stranger threw up his hands in mock surrender. “Excuse me sheriff! I didn’t know I would be pushing a button or two in light conversation.”
         “Yeah well just mind your business partner. And ya ain’t pushing any buttons of mine so watch it.” Having said this he returned to his drink and the stranger did the same. He was pretty sure their conversation was over until the stranger started to speak again. He wasn’t sure if the stranger was talking to himself or not but he still listened closely.
         “I had a family once, but I never had them all long enough to know what it really felt like. I had a mother, a father, one older sister, and an older brother. My sister was found dead because a drunkard shot her right through the chest. My brother drank himself to death because he couldn’t pay off his gambling debts and then my ma died in her sleep, a tired, weak, and overworked woman. That all happened when I was too little to understand the world, but old enough to remember it.
         For some reason Dan was engrossed in the man’s story and he didn’t know why. The man was touching a side of him that Dan had never noticed for years and inside it was hurting. He looked over at the stranger and saw his eyes start to water.
         “See because of all that I’ve been mad. All I ever did was get into trouble. I knew I was insane from the start and it pissed me off even more. I still think about what life would have been like if Pa was there for us.”
         “I’m sorry to hear that.”
         The stranger looked at Dan and laughed as a tear fell. He wiped his face with a dusty sleeve and let out another cracked laugh. Dan could tell a lot about a man, especially by his laugh. When the stranger laughed he could tell he was mad or at least a little touched in the head.
         “Your sorry. Danny boy, you don’t know how it feels to hear you say that.” The stranger leaned over to Dan in a sort of aggressive manner and whispered. “Well I’m sorry too, Danny boy. Sorry you were not satisfied with your wife and left her for tramp.”
         ‘What the hell!’ Dan thought. Something about the stranger never sat right with Dan before but he tried to ignore it. Now this man just made the conversation personal and he was two seconds from landing one right on his jaw. His voice turned into a growl. “Who the hell are you boy?”
         The stranger ignored Dan’s question and continued. “ I’m sorry you roamed from town to town with no one but yourself when your tramp left ya. She left you for another fella if I recall correctly. Must get pretty lonely don’t you, Danny boy?”
         “If you don’t answer me I’ll blow you head off.”
         “Oh! Don’t worry sheriff! I don’t want you pull out your pistols on me. See, cause come to think of it, I remember hearing how good you are with those two fellas.” The stranger laughed and pointed his fingers at him like two guns and waved them around mockingly. “Pretty good ain’t you, old timer. Isn’t that why they made you a man of law to protect their soft hides?” He looked around him and shouted at the rest of the saloon. “Ain’t that right!” still smiling and laughing to himself.
         The saloon got real quiet and all eyes were on the two. The bartender walked over and glared at the stranger. “I think it’s best you be leaving now. We don’t want trouble.” The stranger drank the last of his whiskey and got out of his seat. He patted Dan’s shoulder.
         “Put it on Danny boy’s tab for me.” Turning he walked toward the exit. Dan drew his gun and aimed it at the stranger’s back.
         “You stop right there. You’ll pay for your drink and come quietly with me.”
         The stranger turned back around and straightened his hat. His eyes were clouded and blank like the eyes of a soulless creature.
         “I wanted him dead. I wanted to kill pa so bad. And now I’m going to do it, but I ain’t going to jail before its done.”
                   In a flash the stranger’s guns were aimed right at Dan and blazing. Dan was an old man but he was not as slow as most. He ducked and ran along the length of the bar. Bullets were hot on his tail and took out an innocent man as they followed and the bartender caught two shots in the gut. Every one in the bar dove for the ground and headed for the exit. One brave mustached cowboy drew his gun to take out the shooter but was shot down instantly. Old Dan was behind the counter for cover and had his guns ready. The man took cover behind the piano to reload.
         This all happened so fast to Dan he took a moment to breathe. Next to him on the ground was the bartender. Dead, bloody, and covered in spilled whisky.  “Shit!” he cursed. “Jesus Christ.” Dan heard the man’s revolvers click and spin. He leaned over to peek out and see were the man was hiding but he saw only overturned chairs, tables, and a another dead man hiding his face against the floor board. Then Dan saw a flash of silver and pulled back his face just in time to see three bullets splinter the wood of the bar where his face would have been. “Come on out!”
         He took a deep breath and swung himself out of cover and open fired. Chairs jumped from the force of the bullets and they rattled the piano as well. The man jumped out and fired back. The saloon was now a war zone and bullets flew from both sides.
         Dan knew he was getting no where. The guy was just too fast. He could have easily taken out a man like him when he was younger with no problem. But this guy had the advantage. Dan was getting tired and at times felt his breath escape him. Bullets shattered whisky bottles and ripped through the wood around him as he ducked for cover to cough .  Then for a moment the fire from both ends ceased. They both had been shooting for quite a while now and it seemed like one of them was going to run dry sooner or later. But he wasn’t sure if the guy was really out or just trying to pull his leg. Dan listened closely. He studied the silence to pick up the slightest sounds. He could hear shuffling and the loud thud of boots against the floor and Dan knew for sure that the man was out of cover. One thud after another got closer and closer, and the click and spin of the man’s revolver was calling Dan to just give up and come out.
         “Don’t you understand! I have to kill you.!” The man started to sob but was full of rage. “I’ve been mad all my life I ain’t never gonna change!” Dan grabbed hold of a bottle of whiskey and chucked it as hard as he could. The bottle smashed against the wall and he jumped out of cover to see the man’s guns pointed at the decoy. Dan fired three rounds and each one connected. The man’s chest covered in blood and his face covered in tears. Dan looked into the dying man’s face and saw an innocent look in his eyes. The man looked down at his wounds and back up at Dan.
         “P…P…pa?” stuttered the man, “Why did you shoot me?” Then that was it he stumbled back and fell into table and collapsed on the ground as dead as ever.
         Dan dropped his guns and a tear rolled down his face. Then it hit Dan like a brick to the face. It all started to make sense but he never put it all together in time. The man he just killed should have been the only person that he was really close to. They were father and son, but instead Dan was just as much as stranger to him as he was to old Dan. “Son,” He tried to say that empty word but it hurt so bad, and he knew if he could look at him self now he’d realize how much he didn’t deserve to say such a word, but he said it any way.
         “I… I am so sorry son.” Dan wiped his face tried to hold back a wave of tears. “My boy, I am sorry.” Dan broke down on the counter and cried harder than he had ever cried before.
         Later, a cowboy entered the empty Saloon armed with a rifle. He took a look at the wreckage in one sweep and saw Dan on his knees next to his dead son. “Sheriff! Are you all right?” He ran over to Dan’s side. “Sheriff, what the hell happened here. All of Texas must have heard that shootout!” Dan’s eyes were blood red and his mouth hung open. The cowboy was unsure of what to say or think so he examined the wreckage once again. Then Dan stood up and spoke calmly.
                “I think I always knew he was coming for me. I had a gut feeling that never did sit right in my stomach for years. And sure enough he came. Didn’t even recognized him.” Dan ran his fingers through his white hair. “I can’t blame him for it either. I should be down there, dead, and he should be smiling over my dead ass.”
         “Sheriff?” The cowboy put his hand on his shoulder and Dan turned to him. He ripped off his gold sheriff star and placed it in the cowboy’s hand.
                “I can’t do this any more. I killed my own son. I left my family to die. I was too ashamed to go back and they all died because I was weak. I won’t pray for mercy.” Dan walked out of the saloon and down the dirt road. He walked until the town was far behind. The sun rose and he kept walking deeper and deeper into the wasteland.