Weekly Expression #17 - BK

Walker eased up on the horse and slowly entered the small town. The heat of the day bore down on the few stragglers going about their daily duties. He thought the town was dying eight years ago when he left. If only he could have known then what he saw now. This was a shadow of it’s past life. He slid off the horse, sore from the journey. He tied the reins to the post and stepped up the wooden steps to the main building in this dusty old town. Empty tables scattered throughout the room lay before him as he pushed open the swinging doors to the tavern.

He eased himself onto a bar stool as the bartender walked over to him, polishing a glass with a white cloth. “What will it be?”

“Whiskey.”

Walker heard the doors swing open and shut but paid no heed to it. The bartender put down an empty glass and a new bottle of whiskey in front of him. He poured himself a drink as a man took the stool beside him.

“I thought to myself, this stranger must be crazy to come visit our small town. And now I see it’s worse. Walker Cole, you must be crazy for coming back here.”

“Mayor.” Walker nodded his head in respect before taking another drink.

The Mayor leaned forward and took an empty glass for himself and poured the whiskey into it. “Put this on my tab, Martins.” He called out to the bartender. “Walker Cole.” He said it matter of factly, as if trying to still believe it. “You just passing through?” He asked skeptically.

“No, Sir, here to stay.”

The Mayor thought for a moment. “Very good.Very good.” He enunciated it and paused. “We could use a smart city boy around here.” He slapped the counter.

Walker cringed at the term city boy. City had life had not fared any better in the eight years he was gone than the seventeen he had lived here. He filled his shot glass up again and swallowed the contents whole.

“Listen, son, get yourself on home and come and see me when you finish your hello’s.” The mayor smiled and slid off the stool. He tipped his hat to Martins and left the room. Walker waited a few minutes until he did the same.

Seeing her, there in the adjacent room froze him in his tracks. Her golden curls shone brightly from the sun through the window. The way she laughed echoed the young girl he had fallen in love with so long ago. Yet now, here was that young girl in a woman’s body. As if time had fallen back he found himself giddy as a school boy. He slipped outside and quickly found something to give her. He snuck up behind her. The friend she was with had noticed him but did not give away his location. They both stood there, giddy and laughing. He slid his hand around her and gently offered this small token. She let out a small gasp and turned around to face him. Her eyes grew wide as, no doubt, recognition blew through her mind.

“Walker Cole?” She finally gasped.

He smiled playfully. “Hello, Abigail.”

“My, my, my. Look what the wind blew in!”

“Good to see you, too.”

She smiled, as if unsure what to think of his return.

“It’s been what, a week since I last saw you?”

She playfully hit his arm. Instantly her demeanor changed, a serious pain settled over her.“Eight years.” She fiddled with a scarf in her hand as her eyes skittered across the room, avoiding his.

He felt wounded as he shamefully nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, the past is the past. At least you are here now. That is all that matters. It is good to see you again, Walker.”

“And you as well. And,” He took a deep breath, “as much as I am loving this little chat, I really must get home. If Ma and Susie found out I took so long to get home, they’d have a fit.” He tipped his hat to her.

“You haven’t been home yet?” She and her friend stole questionable glances.

“No, why?”

“You just get on home. I’ll be here when you are done.” She walked up to him and kissed his cheek as she squeezed his arm. “I missed you, Walker Cole.” She slipped quietly out the door, her friend in tow. He stood confused for a moment.

“What in the blazes is going on in this town?” He muttered under his breath.

~~~~~~~

Walker dismounted his horse and tied the reign around the broken fence pole. His heart beat wildly in his chest as he took careful steps up the old creaky wooden steps to the ranch house. Not a sound could be heard other than the grunts from his own horse. He pushed open the front door as he carefully placed his hand on the gun in his holster. It was the second thing he managed to keep other than the clothes on his back and his horse. He slowly drew it out as he stepped inside the forlorn home. Memories flooded his mind. He pushed them aside as he walked through the main room. A musty stench filled his nostrils which he ignored. Confusion and fear plagued his heart as he continued to walk down the hallway. Not a sound was heard.

He felt the barrel against his back before he heard the steps behind him.

“Drop yer gun to the floor and put yer hands in the air.” The old voice shook but was firm in tone.

His heart rate quickened as he obeyed the voice. Could this gun wielding man be his father? What had happened in the time he was gone? He knew his father to be a man of religion. Guns had always been forbidden and so, in part, Walker’s career field had been shunned. A law man was no religious man. Yet Walker had found, in a way, he had grown closer to God during his time with the Sheriff in the big city. That is, until the past year when everything went to rot.

“Slow down.” He suggested. “Can I turn around, please? Sir?”

The gun didn’t budge and the man didn’t speak.

“I just want to turn around. Mr.Cole?”

“I don’t allow trespassing on my property. You march yerself back on out the way ya came and don’t come back.”

Walker ignored him and slowly turned around, hands still high in the air. Indeed, his father’s aged face was shocked to see his son standing before him. He lowered his gun. “What in tarnations are you doing here?”

“I thought it was bout time I came home.”

His father looked disgusted as he shook his head. “You can’t stay here.” He began to turn away.

“Pa?”

“No! Yer not welcome here. Now get off my property!” His father spat.

Walker knew something was wrong. “Where is Ma and Susie?”

His father waved him off as he turned and limped away.

“Pa?” He pushed, even as a part of him wanted to run and hide from the fear of what his father would answer him with.

His father’s labored breathing was all he could hear, other than the beating of his own heart. “They gone.”

“I don’t under…”

“They dead.” His father cut him off, a tear slipped down his cheek as he angrily yelled it again. “They dead!”

Walker felt his world spinning. “Where are they?” He whispered.

“Outside, by the tree.” He waved him off again.

Walker nearly fell as he ran down the steps and to the oak tree. Two headstones stood before him. He slowed down and grief washed over him. He fell to his knees before the headstones. Pain burned through his body making it hard to breathe. The left read May and the right read Susie. He wanted to scream.

He heard the thunder overhead and ignored the rain that quickly soaked him through. It was as if nature could feel the sorrow in his heart.

He traced his finger over the dates. They had both died five years ago. How could that be? He turned around and saw his father step up behind him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He yelled over the roar of the rain.

“What would you being here change? Huh? They were gone. You were gone.  I didn’t want you to see me like this.” He pulled up part of his pant leg to reveal a wooden stump.

The pain intensified.

“He…” His father stopped and closed his eyes.

Walker stood up. “He? Who?”

His father grunted and turned to leave. Walker jumped forward, slipping in the mud. He slid in front of his father, hand up to stop him. “No, you tell me who did this, now.” He ordered.

“His name is Cross. And that is all I am going to say.” His father pushed his arm out of the way and walked back to the house. Walker slipped again as he tried to get to his feet. The combination of the wet mud and dizziness was not something to trifle with. He walked back to the house in a daze. His father sat in a chair, staring at the wall.

“Pa…” He pleaded as he knelt beside his father. “Please tell me.”

“I ain’t gonna lose you too, not to that animal. I forbid you to do anything.”

“Pa, if you think I am going to stay here and pretend it never happened, well you have lost your mind. I am going to find out what happened and I am going to make whoever did this pay. That, you have my word.” He stood up and barged out the door in a rage.

~~~~~

The fire raged in the chimney as he listened to the mayor speak. He vaguely gave Walker all the information he needed. Abigail had seen him enter in. She had tried to stop him. But he was on a mission and nothing would stop him from going after Cross.

“Your father was in the field when he heard their screams. By the time he got there, well, your Ma was gone. Cross shot your father in the leg.”

“Then he killed Susie and left my father to die.”

“Your father is a tough man. After going through such an ordeal…” HIs voice trailed off and Walker saw him staring at a picture of Abigail. The mayor shook his head as he took a swig of his drink.  “Well, I wouldn’t be able to function if I had been in that situation. It was hard enough on me when I lost my fiancee to Cross. Yes, that’s right.” He sank in a chair. “I met her several years back, fell in love. All was wonderful. Until Cross came back into town. She was helping out her sick brother in his field. I came to pick her up and that was when I found her. I went after him. Cross shot my horse, broke my leg in the fall and had to pull myself back to town. Haven’t walked right since.”

Silence drifted between them as the thunder bellowed in the sky outside.

“I’m going after him.”

The mayor choked on his drink. “Walker…” He started to say.

“No, sir. I have to do this. Even if I come back maimed, at least I will be able to live knowing I tried. I am going after him. I will find him. And I will kill him.”

He stood up, checked his gun. Still fully loaded. “Only one thing I ask of you.”

“Anything to be rid of him.”

“Deputize me.”

The mayor nodded as he opened a drawer and tossed Walker a badge. “By the power vested in me as mayor, I now make you sheriff of our nice little town.”

Walker pinned the badge to his shirt and turned to leave. He grabbed the doorknob.

“One more thing, son. You kill that beast? I’ll give you this town and you can marry Abigail. I won’t give her hand in marriage to just anyone. You kill Cross. We have a deal?”

“Trust me, even without you giving me such a fine incentive, I’d have done it for free.”

~~~~~

Abigail rocked in the rocking chair on the front porch. She hated this waiting game. Not knowing Walker’s fate was killing her day by day. It had been two weeks. How long would he need to find Cross? She hoped it was more of a problem with finding him and not Cross finding and ending Walker. Her father stepped out onto the porch and stood beside her, staring out into the desert behind the town.

“Abigail…”

“He’s coming back.” As much as she didn’t believe it, she didn’t want her father to know it. She wanted him to think she was in denial. It was her way of punishing him for letting Walker go after Cross, knowing it would kill him. No one lived or came back normal after meeting Cross. It just didn’t happen. She rarely stopped praying for his safety.

She couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks.

“Oh, Abby.” Her father consoled her.

“How could you let him leave like that? I can’t bear to lose him again.”

A horses’ neigh broke her mourning. She jumped up and ran to the horse. She ran around to the other side and gasped as she saw Walker hanging from the horse. Her father yelled for help as he ran toward them and helped her get Walker down. He was bleeding from a wound on the side of his face and. She coddled his head in her arms and caressed his face.

“Walker?” Her father asked him.

“Cross…” He mumbled…

Oh what horrors he must have been through with that monster!

“Bag…” More gibberish she assumed. Her father stood and walked to the saddle. A bag hung off of it.

“What is it?” She asked as her father opened it. He stared inside, not looking away. “Father?” She persisted. Now she could hear men running towards them.

“He did it.”

“What?”

“He killed Cross.” He sounded proud.

“How do you know?”

“He just did.” He took down the saddlebag and walked back towards the house, leaving her alone with Walker as townsfolk gathered around.

She closed her eyes as she stepped away from the men who picked Walker up and carried him off to the doctor.

What horrors had he been through? Did she dare ask? Did she dare wish to know? Did it matter? He was alive and Cross was dead.

Walker was a hero.