Pearl River Junction

by Robert J. Randisi

  “I’m not finished with my beer,” he said, swirling what was left of it at the bottom of the mug. “There’s no harm in me sitting here long enough to finish my beer and then I’ll go. I’ll wait for my brother and my pa outside.”

  A fifth man stood up.

  “You gotta get up now.”

  “What is it with you people?” Thomas demanded.

  “Them’s the tables for poker games,” a sixth man said.

  “Well, maybe today they ain’t,” Thomas said stubbornly. “What do you think of that? Maybe today that’s one of the poker tables.” He pointed to the table two of the men had stood up from. “That one—and that one.” He pointed to the other empty table, which was always used for poker. “If the game had to be played at another table, what would that mean?”

  Nobody answered.

  “Would the world end?”

  No answer.

  “Goddamn it!” Thomas said.

  “That’s one of the poker tables,” the first man said. “Always has been.”

  “That’s the way it is,” anther man said. Thomas had lost count of how many men had spoken.

  “Shit!” Thomas said.

  He wasn’t afraid. He was outnumbered, but he wasn’t afraid. That wasn’t why he was mad enough to cuss. These weren’t gunmen, they were townsmen who did things the same way every day. If a day came when they had to do things differently, they wouldn’t know how to react.

  But if he let them make him move…

  “Shit,” he said and drank the rest of his beer.

  James walked the teacher home, then handed her the armload of papers at the front door of her house.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Thank you for tellin’ me somethin’ about this town.”

  “It’s a town, like a lot of others,” she said. “Folks around here get into a routine. If something changes that routine—”

  “Like some strangers ridin’ into town?”

  “—they get curious. Wary. Don’t let it bother you if you get stared at.”

  “All right.”

  She stepped through the door of her house, then turned and said, “Maybe, if you stay in town a few days, I’ll see you again.”

  “Maybe,” he said. “I’d like that.”

  She smiled a dazzling smile that made his heart skip a beat and then closed the door.

  Dan Shaye was impressed by Pearl River Junction and its people. They stared at him as he went by, but he didn’t let that bother him. They were just curious. He understood that.

  One by one the businesses closed up as the last customer left and the merchants locked their doors. People went home for supper.

  He found a wooden bench in front of the mercantile store and sat in it for a while, just watching folks walk by, listening to the locks being turned on doors. Finally, the owner of the mercantile store came out and looked at him.

  “Can I help you?” Shaye asked.

  “The chair,” the man said. He was an older man, balding, pot-bellied, wearing an apron. “I got to put it away.”

  Shaye stared at the man for a few moments and could tell it would be useless to ask him to leave the chair out just this once. He stood up and the man took the chair and carried it into the store without a word. Seconds later Shaye heard the door lock.

  Suddenly the streets were kind of quiet and empty. Occasionally someone rode by on a horse or a buckboard went by, but the amount of foot traffic on the boardwalks had dropped significantly.

  It was time to meet the boys, so Shaye stepped into the street and headed for the saloon.

  19

  When Shaye reached the front of the saloon, he saw James coming toward him from the south end of town.

  “I thought you had the north end,” he said when his youngest son reached him.

  “I did,” James said. “I’ll tell you about it inside.”

  Shaye nodded and they entered through the batwing doors. They became immediately aware that something was going on. Most of the men in the place were standing and they were all facing the same way.

  “What do you want to bet your brother’s somewhere in the middle of that?” Shaye asked.

  “No bet,” James said.

  “’Scuse us,” Shaye said and he and James started to make their way through the crowd.

  Thomas had just about made up his mind that there were better things to fight over than a table when he saw his father and brother break through the crowd of men who were fronting him.

  “Are you having a problem, Thomas?” Shaye asked.

  “Not really, Pa,” Thomas said, standing up, “but I think we better pick someplace else to have a drink.”

  “Oh sure,” James said, pointing to his brother’s empty mug, “now that you’ve already had one.”

  “Believe me, brother,” Thomas said, “you don’t want to have a beer in here. Take my word for it.”

  “Let’s get going, then,” Shaye said. “That is, if none of your new friends has any objection.”

  Amazingly, the men had already started to sit back down at their tables now that Thomas had stood up.

  “I don’t think anybody minds, Pa,” Thomas said and led the way out of the saloon.

  “What was that all about?” James asked when they were outside.

  “Well, supposedly, a table,” Thomas said, “but to tell you the truth, I ain’t really sure.”

  “I spotted another saloon down the street,” Shaye said. “Let’s go there and then we can compare notes.”

  “You were really gonna fight all those men over a table?” James asked as they started walking.

  “It was the strangest thing…” Thomas started.

  When they got themselves a table at the Wagon Wheel Saloon and nobody objected, Thomas breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Why didn’t you just get up and walk out?” Shaye asked. “Wait for us outside?”

  “I was about to when you both arrived,” Thomas said. “I’m still not sure what the hell was goin’ on in there.”

  “You were tryin’ to change their routine,” James said. “According to Elizabeth, folks hereabouts don’t want to change their routines.”

  “Elizabeth?” Thomas asked.

  “I met this schoolteacher…” James started and continued on to explain how he’d walked her home.

  “I almost got in a bar fight over a table and you’re walkin’ a pretty school marm home?” Thomas said in disbelief.

  “Took me all the way to the south end of town too,” James said.

  “Which I already checked,” Thomas replied. “Nothin’ but houses there.”

  “I know,” James said, “she lives in one. But here’s somethin’ else. We passed the sheriff’s house.”

  “At the south end of town?” Shaye asked.

  “No,” James said, “the north end, near the schoolhouse. He and his wife have got Belinda Davis livin’ with them.”

  “What?”

  “They took her in, I guess,” James said. “Elizabeth really ain’t sure of the details.”

  “Is she related to the sheriff?” Thomas asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “And the child?” Shaye asked.

  “He’s there too,” James said. “I saw him.”

  “Does he look like Matthew?” Thomas asked, anxiously.

  “I couldn’t tell,” James said. “I only got a glimpse. They were in the sheriff’s backyard.”

  “Well,” Shaye said, sitting back, “maybe that explains the sheriff’s reluctance to talk to us.”

  “What do you think he’ll say when we go and see him?” James asked.

  “I guess that’ll depend on what this Belinda says,” Shaye answered. “If she don’t want to talk to us—”

  “She’s got to at least talk to us, Pa,” Thomas said. “Maybe now that she’s livin’ with the sheriff, she won’t want our help anymore, but she’s got to at least talk withus.”

  “I think so too, Thomas,” Shaye said.
“I just hope she feels that way.”

  20

  The Shayes finished their beer at the Wagon Wheel and then left to walk over to the sheriff’s office. They stopped just outside.

  “Some office, huh?” Thomas asked.

  “I wonder what it would be like to come to work here every day?” James said.

  “Let’s just get inside,” Shaye said gruffly. His sons gave him an odd look, then followed him into the office.

  Sheriff Cotton was seated behind his desk, waiting for them.

  “Come on in, gents. Did you have supper?”

  “Yes,” Shaye said, “we went to the place you suggested.”

  “Good, good,” Cotton said. “Just got back from having supper myself. Come on, have a seat. Can I get you some coffee?”

  “No,” Shaye said, answering for the three of them. “We’re fine.”

  Shaye sat in a chair opposite the lawman and Thomas and James remained standing.

  “We’d like to know what Belinda said about seeing us,” Shaye said. “We know that she’s living with you and your wife.”

  “Somebody talked, huh?”

  “James saw you with her out behind your house,” Shaye said, deciding to play it straight. “And with the child.”

  “Matthew,” Cotton said.

  “What?” James asked.

  “His name is Matthew,” Cotton said. “We call him Little Matt.”

  Shaye exchanged glances with his sons.

  “Yes, I know,” Cotton said. “Your other son’s name was Matthew.”

  “Sheriff—”

  “Okay, here it is,” Cotton said. “She’ll see you, Mr. Shaye, and only you, and the meeting will take place at my house.”

  “Wait,” Thomas said, “why not us?”

  “Maybe later,” Cotton said. “All three of you at once would be overwhelming.” He looked directly at Shaye. “Surely you can see that.”

  Shaye hesitated, then said, “Yes, I can. All right, I agree.”

  “Pa—”

  “Don’t worry, Thomas,” Shaye said. “After all, it was to me she sent the letter.” He looked at Cotton. “What other conditions?”

  “Either I or my wife also has to be present,” Cotton said. “But not the boy. Not yet.”

  “I want to see the boy,” Shaye said. “I’ll be able to tell if he’s Matthew’s.”

  Again, Cotton said, “Maybe later. Belinda wants to see you first, Mr. Shaye.”

  “When?”

  “Tomorrow, around noon.”

  “Why not tonight?” James asked.

  Cotton looked at James. “I’m doin’ this the way Belinda wants to do it, sir.”

  “What’s her relation to you, Sheriff?” Thomas asked.

  “None.”

  “Then why does she live with you and your missus?”

  “She needed help,” Cotton said. “And she had a child. My wife is not the sort of person who could ignore that.”

  “She sounds like a fine woman,” Shaye said.

  “Thank you for sayin’ that,” Cotton replied. “She is.”

  “All right, Sheriff,” Shaye said, getting to his feet. “We’ll do this your way—the girl’s way.”

  “Come by here tomorrow at eleven forty-five and I’ll walk you over to my house,” Cotton said.

  “I’ll be here.”

  “Meanwhile,” Cotton said, also standing, “I’d appreciate it if you and your boys could stay out of trouble while you’re in town.”

  “We always do our best to avoid trouble, Sheriff,” Shaye said. “It’s just not always our choice.”

  “Just your word on behalf of you and your boys that you’ll try is fine with me,” Cotton said.

  “You have it.”

  “Good enough. See you tomorrow, then.”

  Shaye nodded and led his sons out on to the street.

  21

  They spent the evening drinking in the Wagon Wheel and trying to stay out of trouble. Thomas got a deck of cards from the bartender and they played three-handed poker for pennies, turning away any who wanted to join them.

  “Family game,” Shaye told them.

  While playing, they talked over the day’s events and what tomorrow might bring.

  “I think we should go together to see her,” James said. “We’re all entitled.”

  “Maybe we are,” Shaye said, “but the sheriff has a point. Facing the three of us at once would be too overwhelming for her.”

  “What if she’s not so easily overwhelmed?” Thomas asked. “I’ll take two cards.”

  “What?” James asked.

  “What if she’s puttin’ on an act,” Thomas said. “Conning us.”

  “You think she’s a con woman?” James asked. “That her child is not really Matthew’s?”

  Thomas shrugged.

  James said, “One card.”

  “And is she foolin’ the sheriff too?” Shaye asked. “Dealer takes one.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Let me ask you this, Thomas,” Shaye said. “If she wanted to con someone, why not pick a family with more money? Why us?”

  “Our name?”

  “Our name?” Shaye asked. “Up until two years ago, no one outside of Epitaph knew who we were.”

  “They knew who you were,” James said. “In Missouri.”

  “Knew who I was,” Shaye said. “But no one knew who the Shayes were.”

  “Until we tracked down the Langer gang and made a name for ourselves,” Thomas said.

  “Why would she want to be a part of that kind of name?” Shaye asked.

  Thomas and James didn’t have an answer.

  “Well,” Shaye said, ”I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.” He slapped his cards down. “I’ve got aces full.”

  Shaye turned in before his sons. They chose to stay at the Wagon Wheel until closing.

  “Remember what the sheriff said, boys,” Shaye told them. “Stay out of trouble.”

  “We will, Pa,” James promised.

  Shaye returned to the hotel while Thomas and James continued to play penny-ante poker, two-handed.

  About an hour before closing, three men came into the saloon and stopped just inside the door, looking around. Thomas noticed them, James did not. Eventually, they walked to the bar and ordered three beers.

  “Thomas?”

  “What?”

  “How many cards?”

  “Oh,” Thomas said. “Uh, one.”

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “We’re bein’ watched.”

  “By who?” James was smart enough not to turn around immediately.

  “Three men, at the bar.”

  “Are they from that other saloon?” James asked.

  Thomas hadn’t thought of that.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t remember everyone from this afternoon.”

  “Well, what are they doin’?”

  “Drinkin’ beer, watchin’ us,” Thomas said.

  “They wearin’ guns?”

  “Yes.”

  “What should we do?”

  “I know what I’m gonna do,” Thomas said.

  “What?”

  Thomas smiled. “I’m gonna bet three cents.”

  “Three more,” one of the men at the bar said.

  “We’re gonna be closin’ soon,” the barman said.

  “We’ll drink ’em fast,” the man said. “Three more.”

  The bartender shook his head and served them three more beers. Aside from these three men and the Shaye brothers, there were only a couple of other men in the place and they both had their heads down: one on a table, and one on the bar.

  “Them those Shaye boys?” the man asked.

  “Why do you want to know?” the bartender asked.

  “We’re just curious.”

  The bartender looked at the three men. He knew them. They worked for one of the larger ranches in the area, the Bar-K. He didn’t know their names, but he recognized their faces. They came into t
he saloon a few times a month, usually to start trouble. The spokesman was named Cobb and the other two were…Martin and…Franks, he thought. Or was it Frank something?

  “We just heard they was in town,” Joe Cobb said. “Wanted to take a look, didn’t we, boys?”

  “Sure did,” Harley Franks said and Kel Martin just nodded.

  “You boys better finish your beers and move on,” the bartender said. “I don’t want no trouble here.”

  “We’ll leave when we’re ready,” Cobb said. “Why don’t you go back to work?”

  The bartender stood there for a moment, then moved down the bar to wake up a sleeping drunk.

  22

  “They don’t look like so much,” Cobb said to his buddies.

  “Wonder where the ol’ man is?” Franks said.

  “We better finish these beers,” Martin said.

  The other two men looked at him.

  “The bartender’s gotta close up.”

  “Shut up, Kel,” Cobb said. “He’ll close up after we drink up and leave.”

  “What are we gonna do, Joe?” Franks said.

  “I dunno,” Cobb said.

  “We just wanted to get a look at them,” Franks said. “We done that. Let’s get back to the ranch.”

  They’d been drinking at several of the other saloons in town, then heard from somebody that Dan Shaye and his sons were in town and in the Wagon Wheel. Franks was right. The only plan they’d had was to get a look at the Shayes.

  “But what fun would that be?” Cobb asked.

  Thomas watched the bartender wake the two sleeping drunks and get rid of them. That left only him and James—and the three men at the bar.

  “Closin’ up, you fellas,” the barman said, coming over to their table.

  “Fine,” James said. “We’ll leave.”

  The bartender didn’t move.

  “What is it?” Thomas asked.

  “Them three are troublemakers,” he said. “They was askin’ about you.”

  “You know ’em?” Thomas asked.

  “Yeah, they work at the Bar-K.”

  “What kind of trouble are they lookin’ for?” Thomas asked.