Rio Loco

by Robert J Conley

  Chapter Seventeen

  Well, I were up pretty damn early in the morning, and I got my guns strapped on and in my hands. I were ready to go with my Merwin Hulbert six-gun and my loaded shotgun and my five sticks a’ dynamite in my pocket. I checked and made sure I had my cigars and some matches in my pockets too. Then I got to pacing the floor. I were nervous, anxious for the big fight what was a-coming, but it were way too early for that. I wanted a cup a’ coffee, but I didn’t want to have to make it, so I poured myself a good glass a’ brown whiskey outta the bottle in my desk drawer. I set down behint the desk to drink it.

  I was thinking about my poor Bonnie all trussed up over there in the Hooch House and I was sure a-hoping that no one had seed fit to molest her none. Damn, but I was hot under the collar. I was just a-itching to take a bead on that goddamn Chugwater and blast his ass all the way plumb to hell. By and by ole Churkee come awake. He had to untangle hisself from pretty Polly without waking her up, but he managed to do it. He gethered up his weapons, and then he went to looking for some coffee. Whenever he figgered out that I hadn’t done nothing about it, he went and built a pot and put it on the stove to cook. Final, he looked over at me and said, “Good morning, Barjack.”

  “Mornin’, Churkee,” I said. “You ready to do some killing this morning?”

  “I reckon I will be pretty soon,” he said.

  Happy come awake then, and he went straight to the coffeepot and poured hisself out a cup. He lifted it up to take a slug, but he stopped. He studied it for a minute or so; then he said, “This coffee looks like warm piss.”

  “Well, you dumb ass,” I said, “it ain’t finished a-brewing yet. Pour it back in the pot and wait a decent time. That is, unless you like it like piss.”

  He poured it back. He gethered up his guns and come over to the desk. Churkee was already a-setting beside a’ the desk, so Happy just perched his ass on the desktop. “Should we be a-waking ever’one up?” he said.

  “What for?” I said.

  “Well, so they can be getting ready for what’s coming,” he said.

  “Happy,” I said, “what damn time is it?”

  He looked around till he seed the clock on the wall, and then he said, “It looks like it’s about seven thirty.”

  “And when is our meeting with them owl hoots scheduled for?”

  “Ten o’clock, I think.”

  “So why in the hell would we need to be a-waking ever’one up yet?”

  “I reckon we could let them sleep awhile longer,” he said.

  “It sounds to me like you’re just a-itching to get to shooting,” I said, and I was proud a’ him for that, but I never said so.

  “Yeah,” he said, “I guess I am just a bit anxious to get it going.”

  “Well, don’t worry none about it,” I tole him. “It’ll come.”

  “Yeah. I guess it will.”

  Then all three of us got to watching the damn clock, like as if the watching of it might hurry it on along. By and by, Churkee went over to the coffeepot and found the coffee was ready. He poured out three cups and passed them around. I was damn sure glad to get it, and I reckoned that the others was too. I had most near finished up my whiskey, so I poured what little was left into my coffee to kinda spice it up. Happy tuck a slurp a’ his, and he said, “Now, that’s better.”

  I heared a rustling noise and glanced over to the cell. Owl Shit was a-rising up from his night’s sleep. “Happy,” I said, “whyn’t you give ole Owl Shit a cup a’ that java?”

  “Okay, Barjack,” he said, and he went and poured a cup and tuck it to the prisoner. Owl Shit never said nothing. He just tuck that cup and went to drinking his coffee. I ain’t sure if he was just rude or if he was still afraid to talk unless I tole him to. Polly woked up about then, and she looked around to find her Churkee. Whenever she located his ass, she moved over to set on it. “You want some coffee, babe?” Churkee ast her, and she said yes and went after a cup.

  While she was up, Churkee stood up and went to pacing. I guess he didn’t feel like being set on just then. Polly tuck her cup and went to the front winder to look out. “I see about twenty horses tied up in front a’ the Hooch House,” she said. I got up and walked over to take a look.

  “Looks like they’re gethered up early,” I said.

  “You reckon they been there all night?” said Happy.

  “Most likely,” I said. “I can’t think a’ no reason for them to go back out to the ranch and then back in here so damn early.”

  “You suppose they’re anxious to get dead?” said Butcher, and that was the first I had knowed he was awake.

  “They might as well be anxious for it,” I said, “on account a’ it’s coming.”

  “There’s coffee, Butcher,” said Churkee, and Butcher got up and staggered over to pour hisself a cup. Dingle got up and fetched hisself a cup, but he went right back to the corner he had been setting in and went to scribbling again.

  I said, “Dingle, goddamn it, how can you make your brain go to working like that first thing in the morning?” He never answered me none, so I never said no more to him neither. I had finished up my coffee, so I poured myself another glass a’ whiskey. Churkee seen me, and he reached for my empty cup. “You want some more, Barjack?” he said.

  “No,” I said, “one was a-plenty.”

  He went on over to the pot and poured hisself some more, and I guess we musta dranked up that whole damn pot. He set his cup aside and went to build another pot. I looked over at the clock and seed that it was about eight by then. I thunk, Time is sure a-creeping by. I wondered if my Bonnie was a-sleeping or what. I wondered what would happen to ole Chugwater if she wasn’t awake on her own by ten. I hadn’t waked her up in the morning before about ten since that morning I woked her up to tell her something and she got so mad she throwed me off a’ the landing and I had flowed. It made me chuckle to think about it.

  Owl Shit was a-standing by the bars holding his empty cup and looking forlorn. I helt up my bottle and called out to him, “You want to wait for the coffee to make or would you ruther have a snort a’ this here stuff?”

  “I’d be happy with a snort a’ that there,” he said, and he was most nearly smiling. I pulled another glass outta my desk drawer and helt it out to Happy. I give him the bottle too.

  “Pour a snort a’ this out for Owl Shit,” I said. “He might be dead before the day’s over.” He done it. Then he put the bottle down on my desktop and walked over to the cell, where he give that glass a’ whiskey to Owl Shit.

  “Here you go,” he said.

  Owl Shit tuck it like he didn’t think he’d ever see another one, but he never drank it down too fast. He kinda sipped at it. I guess he wanted to make it last awhile, you know. I tuck out a cigar and lit it and puffed at it to get a-going. I checked to make sure I still had some more in my pocket as well as some more matches. I had a-plenty. I kicked back in my chair again to smoke and drink, but I was still careful to not lean back too far. In a while I looked back at the clock, and I seed that it were damn near nine. And sure enough, I heared Sly’s voice at the back door. He called out his name to keep from getting shot at, and Polly went and opened the door for him. He come a-walking into the office, and he did look sharp. I think he’d had hisself a bath and a shave and had put on a clean suit a’ clothes. He smiled and said, “Good morning, folks.”

  “Howdy, Sly,” I said. “I been a-looking for you.”

  “I said I’d be here at nine o’clock,” he told me.

  “You made it with one minute to spare,” I said. “What the hell’s that basket you’re a-hauling over your arm?”

  “Hot biscuits from Lillian,” he said.

  Well, we all dug in, and they was even a tub a’ butter in there. The second pot a’ coffee had done boiled, so ever’one had a refill a’ coffee to go with his biscuit.

  “Barjack,” said Polly, who was back at the winder again, “the Chugwaters is moving out.”

  Me and Sly hurried ov
er to the winder to look out, and sure enough, they had all mounted up and was riding, not toward the jail, but in the opposite direction. They was a-heading for the old hotel. I seed Bonnie a-setting horseback up front and Chugwater were riding right alongside of her. “Goddamn him,” I said.

  We watched till they was outta sight.

  “Do we go now, Barjack?” said Happy.

  “We’ll give it another half hour,” I said. “We ain’t s’posed to meet up with them till ten.”

  I had myself a second buttery biscuit and looked at the clock again. It was nigh onto nine thirty. I picked up my shotgun and walked to the back door. Looking back, I said, “Let’s all go. Happy, bring out Owl Shit.”

  Happy went and got the prisoner out and walked him up to right beside a’ me, and then I led the way outta the jailhouse. Oh, the fresh air smelt good. I had finished up my cigar some time back, so I tuck out a fresh one and lit it, giving Sly a look. He grinned back at me. Then I started out a-walking with all the rest falling in behint me.

  “Keep a lookout for any dirty tricks along the way,” I said, and I was looking at all the rooftops and in all a’ the dark corners and doorways. We walked down the alley for a ways, but before we come to the end a’ the street, I turned to my right and we crossed over to the next street. If we had a-gone to the end a’ the street and then turned, they coulda seed us a-coming and tuck potshots at us before we could reach the mill. Final, we come out behind the mill where we could see it just ahead of us, and I stopped. “Ever’one gether around,” I said.

  They all come around me. “No one shoot,” I said. “We got us a agreement. I’m going to call out to ole Chugwater, and we’re a-going to start Owl Shit and Bonnie a-walking at the same time. Anyone takes a shot while that’s going on will have to answer to me. Does ever’one understand that?”

  “But once I’m across that bridge,” said Owl Shit, “all bets are off. I told you that you couldn’t hold me in that damn jail of yours. You’ll be dead before suppertime.”

  I whopped him acrost the back a’ his head with the stock a’ the shotgun what I was a-toting, not hard enough to knock him out, but hard enough to hurt like hell. “Ow,” he said, and he leaned forward and shuck his head some.

  “You keep your goddamn mouth shut, Owl Shit,” I said, “or the next time I’ll knock you flat, and I mean it too.” He straightened up, still a-shaking his head. “Now come on,” I said, and I walked them all acrost the way till we went in the back door a’ the old mill.

  It were dark and dank and dingy in there. It smelled a’ something stale. I walked us all plumb through to the front wall what was mostly all winders. They was mostly all broke and gone, but there was one winder what still had glass in it. I looked acrost Chugwater Crick, and I could see the old hotel. It looked pretty damn sorry too. It had a porch in front with a roof over it. I guess they had tied their horses out back on account a’ I couldn’t see no horses nowhere. Owl Shit headed for the front door, but I clicked back both hammers on my shotgun and poked the barrels right into his ugly face. He stopped still, and his face turned white.

  “You move when I tell you to move,” I said. “Now get over there to the other side a’ the door.”

  “Yes, sir,” he mouthed, but I didn’t hardly hear him say nothing a’tall. I went to studying the hotel acrost the crick. I couldn’t hardly tell nothing about it. I squinnied my eyes at the winders in front a’ the place, but I still couldn’t tell nothing. “Sly,” I said, and he walked up beside me. “Do you reckon them bastards is in there? Or could they have gone off somewheres else?” He studied on it for a spell.

  “It’s hard to tell, Barjack,” he said. “But where else could they have gone?”

  “Damned if I know,” I said. “Do you got a watch on?”

  He pulled a gold timepiece outta his vest pocket and studied it. “I make it to be about ten minutes before ten,” he said.

  “Let’s take our time, then,” I said, and I puffed at my cigar. I went and lowered them hammers too on my shotgun. I didn’t want to take no chances on shooting that damn thing off by accident.

  “Barjack,” said Sly. “They’re in there all right. I just got a glimpse of a man in an upstairs window.”

  “Where?” I said, and I went to looking.

  “He was in that window on the far right upstairs,” Sly said. “I don’t see him anymore, but he’s there.”

  “By God,” I said, “they’re a-waiting for us. They ain’t got no intentions a’ trading with us and then going home. They mean to kill us all for sure.” I didn’t say nothing about the fact that them was our own very intentions. I didn’t mean for Chugwater nor Owl Shit nor none a’ them cowboys to ride outta Asininity alive.

  “We’re ready for them,” said Sly.

  “You goddamn right,” I said.

  Then I decided that we had waited long enough. I went and stepped out the front door and stood there for a minute a-showing myself, and then I hollered, “Chugwater. Hey, Chugwater, you over there?”

  In another minute Chugwater stepped out on the porch. He had a man on each side of him. “I’m here, Barjack,” he yelled.

  “I’ve got Owl Shit,” I called out. “You got Bonnie?”

  “She’s here, and she’s unharmed.”

  “Bring her out,” I said.

  “Let me see my brother.”

  Over my shoulder I said, “Owl Shit, step out here.”

  He come out, and he acted like as if he was going to just start in a-walking.

  “No, you don’t,” I said. “You stand right there.”

  He stopped right in front a’ me.

  “Where’s Bonnie?” I called.

  Chugwater said something to his boys what I couldn’t hear, and in another minute they brung her out on the porch. I could tell from that distance that she were madder’n a goddamn hornet. I was a-hoping that her mad was all directed at Chugwater and none of it at me, but I couldn’t worry none about that just then.

  “Let’s get them started,” I yelled. Bonnie walked forward to the steps and then started down. “Go on,” I said to Owl Shit, “but walk slow or I’ll empty this scattergun in your butt. He moved out real slowlike. Bonnie was down on the ground by then and walking slow toward the bridge. The two of them was moving at about the same pace. When Bonnie got closer to the bridge, I could see her face plainer, and I could see that she were real damn mad, but I could see too that she was afraid. I don’t know just what I were hoping for, but I were sure a-hoping for something.

  I got to watching Bonnie, the way she moved, and even under these here circumstances, she was something to watch, the way her big hips was a-swinging from side to side. I thought she was for sure a grand woman. They got a little closer and both of them stepped up on the bridge at the same time. They kept a-walking along real slow-like. I could hear the bridge a-creaking when they walked, and I was sure hoping that them old boards would hold up under that weight.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Bonnie and Owl Shit come alongside a’ one another. Bonnie were still a-swinging her huge hips while she walked. Owl Shit were walking real slow and easy on account a’ he believed, I’m sure, that I’da shot him in the back if he was to start hurrying along. Then of a sudden, Bonnie swung her hips real hard to the side and caught Owl Shit with a good hard whump, knocking his ass to the side, and he crashed right through the handrail what was on the side a’ the bridge and went a-splashing down into the crick below. He yelled some furious as he fell. Bonnie had swung her own ass so hard that she went right in after him and landed on top a’ him down in the water.

  Well, ole Chugwater, when he seen that, raised up his own rifle and tuck aim at me, but I dodged his shot real neatlike and fired a blast a’ my shotgun at him. He yelped and ducked back into the hotel. All hell broke loose then. Gunshots was a-coming outta the hotel winders and front door and spanging into the mill all over. I ducked behint a post a’ the overhanging roof there. They was a shed down close to the crick, and I
yelled at Bonnie. “Bonnie, get your ass up to the shed, and bring Owl Shit with you.”

  I reckon Owl Shit didn’t have no breath left in him after Bonnie had landed her lard ass on top of him, and she grabbed him by the collar and dragged him outta the water with her and then ran up to the shed. She fell down with him on the mill side a’ the shed with bullets hitting in the dirt all around her. My God, but she was a wonder. I thunk about calling out to her again to bring Owl Shit on over to the mill with the rest of us, but I was a-feared that she would never make it with all them gunshots going on. I was a-feared to make a move my own self.

  Out of a corner of my eye, I seen Polly make a rifle shot outta one a’ the winders, and I looked back toward the hotel and seen one a’ Chugwater’s boys come a-crashing through a upstairs hotel winder and fall to the ground below. He didn’t move after that, and I figgered that Polly had kilt him. So they was only eighteen left. I hollered back over my shoulder, “Boys, cover me.” Ever’one inside the mill commenced firing most at once, and I turned and run back inside through the front door. They was so many bullets flying, I don’t know how I made it inside without being hit, but I did. I pressed my ass against the wall just inside a’ the door. Then I sneaked a peek out and looked over to where Bonnie and Owl Shit was huddled behint the shed.

  Owl Shit musta been about to recover, on account a’ I seen him struggling to set up. Bonnie wound up and slugged him right hard against his jaw, and he dropped again. He were out cold. I could tell. Even so, I didn’t like seeing her stuck over there away from the rest of us. I looked around, gauging my men. The best bet seemed to be ole Churkee. “Churkee,” I said, “do you think you can get your ass over there to Bonnie without getting it shot?”

  He tuck a look. “I can make it,” he said.

  “We’ll all cover you the best we can,” I said. “When you get over there, watch for a chance to get Bonnie and Owl Shit back over here, but don’t take no chances.”