The Lawman

by G. Michael Hopf

SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

  Isaac looked at the ships moored along the wharf. Soon he’d be on one and headed west across the Pacific and towards a new life in Australia.

  He didn’t know what to expect, but knew his life in America was over. He was drawn to the irony of going to Australia, a penal colony. He felt it was appropriate for him to live where other convicts were being settled.

  Using some of the money he’d made from selling the silver, he secured new papers giving him the name of Isaiah Ethan Travers, a lawyer and sheriff seeking a fresh start after having lost his wife. The funny thing was a lot of Isaiah’s backstory was true, minus the fact he was an escaped convict.

  He was torn about the long trip, approximately nine weeks, having never spent more than a day on a ship in his life. To ease his anxieties about the trip, he’d purchased a stateroom on the ship to ensure his lodgings would be comfortable.

  He walked down the dock until he reached the gangway for his ship and stopped.

  Sailors and porters alike were rushing up with arms full of supplies loaded into crates. They’d promptly deposit them and race back down to grab another armful.

  Seeing a man who looked important, Isaac strolled over. “I’m looking for Captain Hays.”

  The man removed a corncob pipe, gave Isaac a once-over, and said, “Who’s looking for the captain?”

  “Oh, sorry, I’m Isaiah Travers. I’ve booked a stateroom on the ship here.”

  “You have, have ya?” the man asked.

  “Yes, now if you could point me in the direction of the captain, I’d like to report in,” Isaac said.

  “I’d be the captain of this fair ship,” the man said.

  “You’re Captain Hays?” Isaac asked.

  “Been captain of this here ship for almost five years. She’s a good one too, never have had an issue with her, and she fancies the long voyages,” Captain Hays said, removing the pipe from between his yellow-stained teeth.

  “She’s pretty,” Isaac said.

  “She’s more than pretty, she’s gorgeous. If I could marry her, I would,” Hays said.

  “When should I board?” Isaac asked.

  “Follow me. I’ll take you to your cabin,” Hays said and sauntered off up the gangway. Every time he took a step with his right leg, he limped.

  Noticing the limp, Isaac asked, “Are you injured?”

  Stopping on the main deck, Hays turned and lifted his trousers to show a wooden leg. “Lost her during the war. A damn Confederate cannonball took her clean off from just below the knee.”

  “You fought in the war, so did I,” Isaac said.

  “Did ya now? You ain’t no rebel, is ya?” Hays asked.

  “No, sir, I fought with the Sixty-Fifth New York,” Isaac replied.

  “Good to know. Now follow me,” Hays said.

  The two darted around bustling sailors towards the aft of the ship. Once there, Hays opened a small door and said, “This is yours.”

  Isaac poked his head in and was astonished by how small it was. “Not too big.”

  “It’s luxurious compared to where my crew sleeps,” Hays said.

  “You’re right; thank you,” Isaac said, tossing his bags on the cot. “When will we set sail?”

  “In two hours. Settle in,” Hays said. He turned and started to limp off. A thought popped in his mind; he turned back and said, “Mr. Travers, want to sit at my table for supper tonight? We can swap stories about the war.”

  “I’d like that,” Isaac said.

  “What do you do, Mr. Travers? What’s your livelihood?” Hays asked.

  “I’m a lawman; I’ve worked on both ends of it. I’ve been a sheriff and a lawyer,” Isaac replied, happy to be able to tell the truth.

  “I’ll have my first mate summon you when it’s time. Meanwhile, settle in and relax…and, Mr. Travers, don’t get in my crew’s way.”

  “Understood,” Isaac said.

  Hays marched off.

  Not content with staying in his cabin, Isaac went topside to the quarter deck to avoid the hustle and bustle along the main deck. There he had a good vantage point of the harbor and other ships. Soon he’d be on the ocean and headed towards the unknown. He was content with not knowing the details because he had faith in the broader definition of life. He was an optimistic man at heart; he looked at the remaining years of his life as an opportunity for discovery. He knew he’d find work, find a place to live, and eventually find love again. The events in the middle of it would be filled with uncertainty, and that, he found thrilling. Many people needed certainty in life; he’d come to accept that life was going from one uncertainty to the next.

  As he stared out across the glimmering bay, his heart filled with hope. He was now a truly free man. Free of the chains of physical imprisonment and free of the entanglements of his past. He could now chart his own course defined on his terms. He wasn’t concerned about Mortimer or Everett finding him. The world was too big, and soon they’d fill their time with ways of enriching themselves even more. As he reflected on the past five weeks, he came to the final conclusion that it had all been a valuable lesson. It even could be defined as a blessing in some ways. Some wouldn’t see it that way, but wasn’t life about perspective? He couldn’t control his past, it was what it was, so why waste energy on it? If he were to be successful moving forward, he decided to focus on what he could control, and that was the present.

  With his newfound freedom Isaac pledged he’d wake each day with purpose and go about making it as good as it could be, because if anyone knew about how life could shift in an instant, it was him.

  THE END

  _____________________________________

  READ THE FIRST CHAPTER FROM THE NEXT

  G. MICHAEL HOPF WESTERN

  THE RETRIBUTION OF LEVI BASS

  PROLOGUE

  JUNE 7, 1876

  WICHITA FALL, KANSAS

  Levi didn’t stand taller than five feet, but that didn’t stop the ten year old from attempting to prevent his father, a drunkard, from taking what little money the family had to go gamble.

  Lacey Bass wasn’t just a man down on his luck, he was a man that had none. Everyone has met someone in their lives that was like Lacey. They were always the one person where things never quite worked out or bad things seemed to happen to. This was him. And today he had gotten into his head that he could beat Randall Pritchard, a notorious gunman and gambler. Lacey touted that he’d had a dream, a lucid one where he was sitting at the table across from Randall and was holding a king high straight. He watched himself lay his hand down then look up to see Randall’s eyes widen with shock meaning that he, the son of a butcher, had beaten one of the best gamblers west of the Mississippi.

  When he woke he was filled with hope but when would Lacey ever meet a man like Randall he thought. He chalked it up to a fanciful dream nothing more, then word spread a week later that Randall was in town and of course he could be found at one of many tables.

  Lacey took this as a sign that finally his ship had come in. He was meant to play Randall and in order to do so he needed to use their life savings.

  Levi’s mother had been unable to stop Lacey from taking the money but Levi wouldn’t let up. He knew that without that money they’d starve, or worse end up on the street again, a place he’d spent his sixth and seventh birthday.

  “No, pa, please don’t,” Levi pleaded.

  Having already drunk a bottle, Lacey was stumbling and mumbling. “Out of the damn way, boy.”

  “Please Pa, that’s all our money,” Levi said jumping in front of him.

  Lacey stopped, looked at Levi and barked, “Get out of my damn way, boy or I’ll smack you down!” He lifted his hand to strike but stopped short when he realized that Levi was ready to take the hit.

  “You can hit me all you want, but I won’t allow you to spend that money, we need it, we need it real bad,” Levi said defiantly.

  Howls and cheers erupted from the Crazy Eight Saloon and Gambling House. />
  Lacey looked towards the saloon, his eyes wide with excitement, “Step aside.”

  “No.” Levi said not moving.

  Lacey shoved Levi to the ground and stepped over him.

  Defiant, Levi jumped back up and once more got blocked his father’s path. “Please, Pa.”

  Lacey gritted his teeth and seethed, “Son, I don’t want to hurt you, but I will.”

  “Pa, without that money we’ll starve. We need it,” Levi begged.

  “I’m gonna win tonight, I know it,” Lacey replied.

  Levi placed his hands on his father’s chest and cried, “Pa, you never win.”

  Anger swelled in Lacey when those words hit his ears. He snatched Levi by the throat and squeezed. “Shut you damn mouth, boy.”

  Clawing at his grip with both hands, Levi gasped, “Pa, you’re choking me. I can’t breathe.”

  Lacey leaned in so close that Levi could smell his sour breath, “Go home… now!” He shoved him aside, this time Levi landing in a mud puddle.

  Covered in a combination of horse manure, urine and mud; Levi wiped his face and watched as Lacey marched on and into the saloon.

  Inside, Lacey examined the bustling room, it was a familiar place, he normally found himself up at the bar finishing off a bottle or at one of the dozens of round tables where he always seemed to lose. A large crowd in the far corner told him that was where he needed to be. He pushed his way through the swarm of people until he reached the table he was looking for. Sitting with his back to the wall was the man himself, Randall Pritchard. Like he in his dream he was wearing his black jacket and burgundy vest; a gold chain dangled from the vest’s left pocket. His crisp white shirt was secured at the neck with a matching burgundy cravat. Dangling from his teeth was a slim cigar, his face was clean shaven allowing the thick scar that graced his cheek to be seen by all. He was proud of that scar and would often talk about how he’d gotten it. Lacey caught sight of the pearl handled Colt Army he wore on his hip and chuckled as Randall’s pistol was about as famous as he was.

  “Mister if you can beat a full house, queen high the pot is your,” Randall said laying his hand down.

  The remaining man playing against him threw his cards on the table in anger and howled, “Damn it to hell! How the hell do you do it? Huh?”

  “Some say luck, I say skill,” Randall replied leaning over and grabbing the pile of coins and cash. He shoved it towards his side of the table and began to stack the coins.

  “You cleaned me out,” the man said pushing away from the table and getting up.

  Randall looked at the horde gathered and asked, “Anyone else care to play?”

  Lacey didn’t reply, he was frozen in fear.

  Looking at each person standing near the table, Randall asked, “Want to play?” His questions was quickly answered by a no. Coming to Lacey he asked, “Want to play?”

  Lost in the moment of it all, Lacey didn’t answer.

  “Mister! Do you want to play?” Randall said his voice louder.

  Snapping out of his daze, Lacey recalled why he was there. “I’ll play you.”

  “Take a seat,” Randall said. Looking around again, he asked. “Anyone else care to join us?”

  No one said yes.

  “Looks like its me and you. My name is Randall Pritchard and whom might I be playing with?”

  “Ah, my name is Lacey Bass. Um, I’ve know who you are? Heard a lot about you,” Lacey said.

  Chuckling, Randall said smoothing out his thick black mustache, “Don’t believe everything you here.”

  “So you didn’t shoot down the Barry brother’s in Dodge last year?” Lacey asked referring to two infamous outlaw brothers who were known for being gamblers and cut throats.

  “That my friend you can believe, I did shoot and kill them, but I have to say it was done in self-defense.”

  “And…”

  “Shall we play?” Randall asked.

  “Yes, of course,” Lacey answered pulling his cash from his pocket and lying on the table.

  “Two hundred, is that all you have?” Randall asked. He looked at the crumpled bills and then at Lacey. He could see he was drunk and by his state of attire and hygiene he knew he wasn’t a well to do man and that the money on the table was more than likely all he had to his name. “Are you sure you want to play?”

  “Yes, now deal,” Lacey growled.

  Smiling, Randall laughed, “You’re a passionate man aren’t you?” He shuffled the deck and began to deal.

  Lacey couldn’t wait for the five cards to be dealt, he picked them up one by one as they were came. As he gazed upon them his dream appeared to be coming true because in his hand was queen of spades, a ten of spades, a nine of spades, a two of hearts and a six of clubs. From his dream the hand he won with was a straight flush, king high. Antsy to bet, he tossed twenty dollars into the center of the table.

  “Oh yes, the ante,” Randall said tossing a twenty dollar bill in as well. “Well are we betting?”

  Confusing his ante for a bet, Lacey put in another twenty. “I need two cards,” he said tossing two cards aside.

  “I’ll see that twenty and raise you fifty,” Randall said coming at him strong.

  Lacey paused, he wanted to have faith in his dream but the fact of losing seventy dollars right away gnawed at him.

  “Well?” Randall asked his face stoic.

  Commotion broke out behind Lacey. All turned to see Levi shove and push until he reached Lacey. “Pa, no, no, please Pa, don’t do this.”

  “Boy I told you to go home,” Lacey barked his anger swelling.

  “I take it this is your son?” Randall asked.

  “It is and he’s normally obedient,” Lacey said showing he was embarrassed by the disruption.

  “What’s his name?” Randall asked.

  “Levi, my name is Levi and please mister, don’t play my Pa, please,” Levi begged.

  Randall roared in laughter.

  Grabbing Levi by the collar, Lacey pulled him close, “You’re making me look like a fool. Get outta here.”

  Randall placed his cards face down and leaned back in his chair, “Come here, Levi.”

  Levi pulled away from Lacey and walked over to Randall. “Please Mister, don’t play my Pa.”

  “What’s the problem?” Randall asked.

  “That’s all the money we have, if he loses it we’ll not have anything and well my Pa he don’t work. If he loses this money we’ll starve, you hear, we’ll starve,” Levi said pleading his case.

  “Is this true?” Randall asked Lacey.

  “The boy is lying, don’t listen to him. Now do you want to play or not?” Lacey snapped.

  Randall cocked his head and said, “Of course I want to play but I want to play men who should be playing not ones who should be at home.”

  “Are you ridiculing me?” Lacey barked.

  “Don’t get jumpy. I’m looking out for you,” Randall said.

  “Mister my Pa has bad luck, he never wins this game,” Levi said.

  Lacey put his cards face down, got up and smacked Levi across the face. “Shut your mouth and go home to your mother.”

  Levi didn’t fall this time, he recovered from the strike quickly, blood coursing down his chin and gave Lacey an angry look. “I hate you.”

  “Do you make it a habit of hitting children?” Randall asked focusing a hard stare on Lacey as he stiffened his spine.

  Fully aware of Randall’s reputation as a gunman, Lacey thought carefully about what he said next. “I want to play because the boy doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I’m going to beat you Mr. Pritchard with this very hand.” He tossed in the fifty and picked up his hand. “Now play or forfeit that money.”

  Randall looked at Levi and said, “Son, sometimes people need to be taught a lesson. Just know that I was willing to give him an out.”

  Levi didn’t reply.

  Randall dealt Lacey two card and picked up two himself.

  When Lacey
gazed upon the two new cards he about jumped out of his seat. This was his dream to a tee for in his hand was a straight flush with spades, king high. He pushed the remaining money he had into the center of the table. “All in, one hundred and thirty.”

  “Oh Pa,” Levi moaned.

  Randall set his cards face down and saw Lacey’s wager. “Let’s see what you have.”

  With a broad smile, Lacey laid his cards down.

  The crowd gasped with many breaking out in chatter.

  Fondly, Lacey looked around feeling victorious. He leaned across to grab the winnings when he was interrupted.

  “Hold on,” Randall said.

  “I have a straight flush with spades, king high,” Lacey said as if he couldn’t be beat.

  Randall set his cards down face up. “Royal flush with hearts.”

  The room erupted, many laughing at Lacey’s expense while some shaking their heads at how Randall seemed unbeatable.

  Lacey’s face went ashen, his jaw dropped open.

  Randall swooped the cash up. He gave Lacey a look and said, “Remember I was willing to give you an out.”

  Sitting speechless, Randall was in shock.

  “Now who else wishes to play?” Randall asked.

  “I was supposed to win…I was supposed to win,” Lacey said under his breath.

  “Clear out, and let some real players take a seat,” Randall mocked Lacey.

  Deflated emotionally and defeated spiritually, Lacey stood and walked out of the saloon.

  Levi remained.

  Randall said, “Best you go and take your Pa home.”

  “I hate you,” Levi said. “All you had to do was not play him, that’s all you had to do. Now we’re not going to be able to eat, we’ll get tossed out onto the street.”

  “Like I said boy, some people need to be taught lessons,” Randall said smugly.

  “The only lesson I learned today is people like you are spiteful. All you had to do was not play him. You’re responsible for us not eating,” Levi barked.

  “No son, your father is responsible, he knew the stakes yet he still played,” Randall said shuffling the cards.