To Compromise

Blood streamed from under the rope as the last knot was pulled tight and it soaked the hemp turning it black. Mixing with the sweat of the two bound men it thinned and dripped easily to the ground. There their naked feet churned it into the sand. Feet that, while already beginning to feel scorched from the oven-hot sand, had not yet blistered or began to weep pus and blood, though they would before the day was over.

A small piece of rope remained unused and dangled from their tormenters hand and as he straightened from his task he playfully flipped it against each of the men’s unprotected head, bringing smiles and few chuckles from those gathered around, one of whom loudly said to the tied men,
“You two stay close together y'hear.”

A choking dust swirled as the gathered men began preparing themselves to move away, replacing rifles in scabbards and mounting horses, a dozen different conversations rumbled from the small group, all different, none concerning the two tied men.

The hard-faced man, who had tied the two together, flung the short piece away, pulling his hat on to shade his head from the blasting sun.
“It’s a long way to any shade, or I’d stay and watch ya’ll figure out what to do, might be fun, ya’ll being so smart and all, be real imaginative no doubt.” he said, causing some scattered laughter.

Simultaneously each of the tied men tried to turn bodily and face him, causing more laughter.  After some jerking and pulling they settled on each turning their head while speaking in earnest, pleading voices.

“Leave some water.”

“Leave our shoes…a hat.”

Noticeably, neither asked to be untied or not to be left like this, since each man knew they could be left in a different condition all together less living.

Without another word to the tied men, the riders, saddles creaking, men cursing stubborn mounts and a few questions flung at their leader rode off in the direction of the blazing sun.

Immediately the tied men began pulling at the rope that held them together. They were tied with their backs together, their hands at their sides were also tied, each left hand tied to the others right hand. They could flex their fingers and slightly move their wrists but that was all. Fingers, already beginning to swell, began to swell faster with their effort.

The rope was wrapped around their shoulders and down their torso to their waists; they had been tied with both of the ropes they carried which amounted to a lot of rope.

“Listen” the slightly taller one demanded, sweat running down his bald scalp caused him to shake his head trying to dislodge the sweat running into his unprotected eyes, “willya stand still for a minute dammit, so I can see if I can feel a loose end.”

“I’m trying to standstill y’fool”, the shorter and heavier of the two replied bitingly, “y’trying to make us fall over or what?”

The shorter one's hair, something in the past of which he had been proud of, blew wildly about his face sticking to the sweat coursing down his face and perversely flying into his mouth as he breathed heavily attempting to maintain his balance.

Cursing monotonously the tall one glared around.

“See anything?” he asked.

“Sand” the other replied.

“I mean”, the tall one said slowly as if speaking to a child, “anything that can cut this rope.”

“Hell, why didn’t y’say so.”, the long-haired one replied, voice dripping with sarcasm, “He left Colonel Bowie’s knife laying right over there.”

They stood gazing about. Nothing but sand, distance and some far off ridge was to be seen.

“Miller”, the shorter long-haired man said slowly, “just north of here under that ridge yonder is a water tank.”

The tall man barked a laugh, “and right near your daddy’s place, huh? Yeah, Johnson, let’s go there so he can shoot me in the head this time instead of the leg like he got me yesterday. Nope, we’re going to go back south just past the arroyo where I stayed last night, I left some things…a…a pack there, has a knife in it we can use.”

Johnson mimicked the tall Millers laugh. “You left some things? I bet you did. Like the twins. That where ya’ll supposed to meet up after you scattered the Leaning D’s cows, after you came up and finished me and pa off and stole our cows?”

“It’s closer”, Miller replied patiently, “no one was messing with you or your pa, we only tried to move the D’s cows, ya’ll had no call to go shoot ‘in.”

“We ain’t going south, dammit”, the long-haired Johnson replied, his voice starting low and rising in volume as he continued, “I ain’t going to murdered by your kin, let’s go up to the tank, I’ll tell pa, he’ll understand, he’ll cut us loose and you can go.”

“Shore”, the other replied, “shore he’ll understand just like he understood last year when…”

The tall one’s body was suddenly flung around as the shorter, heavier one grunted with frustration and began dragging the other northward, yelling “Gad, stop arguing we gonna die of thirst cause you afraid of pa, he may not even be there.”

Miller cursed savagely, spreading his longer legs he levered the shorter man briefly into the air and then staggering under the weight he flung himself sideways attempting to roll on top of the shorter man.

Frenzied, Johnson responded by using his stronger legs, and while yelling incoherently, began ramming backwards. In the armless brawl both men somehow regained their feet as they jerked and twisted at the other, the short man’s head banged Millers head, who, enraged jerked his head back smashing the other who responded in kind, dazed they stumbled and fell back to the ground.

After a few minutes they struggled to sit up and managed to eventually when each got his legs stretched out in front them. Sitting there they each faced the direction they wanted to go lungs heaving and covered in sand, although, ominously they were no longer visibly sweating.

The sun continued its remorseless march across the sky and time slipped by as each man attempted to regain his senses and in that time the sun began to remove the last of the moisture from the mouths of the bound men and the heat seared their skin and the glare caused their eyes to narrow to the point of closing. Both believed to do as the other wished was certain death and that no amount of talking at the tank or the arroyo would stop it.

Johnson knew Miller was severely injured and he began to talk, trying to convince Miller that going north was the best bet; he was uninjured, he said, if the tall man got worse and couldn’t walk he could drag him it was only a few miles, there was water there for sure, who knew if the twins had come back or if they even had water. Miller sat and seemed to listen, Johnson was encouraged and began to press his case, talking fast and loud until his mouth began to become cottony and dry he couldn’t seem to move his tongue, finally he fell silent and began to try to swallow, his throat had become so dry.

The tall man, who had sat silently while the long-haired Johnson babbled incessantly, stupidly about going north, waited. He thought about what he would say; he knew he couldn’t stop the twins from doing whatever they chose but somehow he had to get this raving fool headed south. He waited while the other talked and organized his argument in his head.

Abruptly he realized Johnson had fallen silent, Miller strained against his swelling neck to lift his head, he opened his mouth to say that, of course he understood the man was nervous about going south, but it was so much closer, less than three miles and, hell, the twins may be even coming north, meet them halfway, and he even knew how they could move, he had seen these Russians do this thing at a circus once carrying each other on their back, looked easy. The tall Miller opened his mouth to say all this. To say it all patiently, calmly and convincingly and nothing came out. His lips had blistered and now cracked with his effort to speak, his mouth had become so dry and his tongue thick and swollen his voice would not come. He rose in panic, easily picking up the heavier Johnson.

Johnson responded in fear to the sudden movement after the prolonged silence and believing help had come for the tall man, began fighting to turn their bodies so he could see south.

Struggling to face south, Johnsons breath began coming in short gasps, he was thinking about how his skin seemed to crawl and his face felt swollen, so the massive pain that began to clamp down over his chest and push into his arm he confused with the pain of being tied, he opened his mouth to speak and could only give a garbled groan.

The tall man heard the strangled yell from the shorter man and believing Johnson had seen help coming from the north and had tried to call out to them, Miller turned to face the danger while struggling to maintain his balance. A sudden increase in weight as the short man slumped caused them both to fall in a heap.

The taller man lay breathing harshly, dimly he realized the shorter man had stopped moving, dead or unconscious, the tall man didn’t care, he had won, he could go south. The man surged to his feet the dead one dangling from his back and began to walk. He didn’t realize when it had happened but he had fallen and the dead man was pressing into his back. Get up, he told himself, you won, get up!

A smell caught the attention of a handful of riders making their way through the early morning sun, and thinking some cow may have died or been killed they stood in their stirrups and located the lump that was the source of the smell. Riding close, one exclaimed, “Damn boss, look here” The hard faced man rode forward looking down and his eyes widened in astonishment. He looked around recognizing where he was at. “Why” he said, “these are those two fellas from a few days ago.” He looked around apparently baffled and asked, “Why did they stay here?”