by Lee Lejeune
‘So, what about Bart Senior?’ Sunshine asked.
She was silent while she stuffed her pipe with some kind of tobacco. Then she said:
‘Unfortunately, Bart Senior took sick and died. He was a good man but nature dealt him out a bad hand and now he’s in the land of eternal happiness . . . or so the preacher said.’
Sunshine frowned. ‘That must have been difficult for you. I hope he likes it there.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘Life is difficult, sonny. That’s one lesson you have to learn.’
Sunshine didn’t reply. He knew already that life could be difficult.
After she had lit her stubby pipe again, she gave him a scrutinizing look.
‘That’s my story. Now spill out the beans on yourn.’
‘There isn’t a whole lot to spill out. My old man was a small-time trader and my ma had taught school. I was the only son. I think I came as something of a surprise to them when I arrived.’
‘So why did you leave?’
Sunshine grinned. ‘Well, I just left. I can’t give a good reason. I guess I’m something of a restless spirit. Not good enough to be a scholar and not strong enough to be a labouring man. I thought of going to sea but then somebody offered me my good hoss Chingalong, and I took it as a sign. I decided to ride West and see what life has to offer in this strange land . . . and that’s why I’m here.’
Bethany puffed out a small cloud of blueish smoke.
‘So you have no particular plans for the future?’
He shrugged. ‘I’m not sure I believe in plans. You make a plan and something comes along to bust it apart.’
She continued smoking for a while. Then:
‘I might put a proposition to you, young man.’
‘Well, I’m always open to suggestions. So why don’t you spill it out, Mrs Bartok?’
She looked thoughtfully at her pipe.
‘Why don’t you stay here for a while, maybe a week? I can’t offer you anything to speak of, other than food and drink.’
‘That sounds acceptable,’ he said. ‘What would I do in return?’
She shrugged. ‘You could talk good sense to me and renew the windows those hoodlums shot out. There’s always something a body can do around here.’
Sunshine smiled. ‘You just made an offer I can’t refuse,’ he said.
CHAPTER TWO
After what had been a busy day and with a bellyful of good stew and home-brewed beer, Sunshine fell into a deep sleep. But it wasn’t dreamless. He dreamed that a whole host of gunmen were coming at him from all directions. He was trying to bring his Winchester carbine into play but one of the gunmen reached out and grabbed it and bent it in half just like it was made of putty. Sunshine woke up shouting, then fell into a deep sleep again.
Next thing he knew, a light was shining in his eyes. When he opened them he saw that a beautiful young woman was standing at the end of his bed.
‘Where am I?’ he asked. The next second the beautiful young woman had transmogrified into Bethany Bartok.
‘Time you shook the sleep-dust out of your eyes, young man,’ she croaked. Sunshine sat up quickly; then he remembered.
‘Is it late?’ he asked as the sun streamed into his eyes.
‘Late enough,’ she said. ‘I’ve been up at least two hours and I’m good and ready to get my mouth round a wholesome breakfast. You want to join me you’d better get your pants on soldier fashion: double quick. Or you could come in your underpants. It don’t make no never mind to me.’ She went to the door, cackled and turned.
‘You want to clean up you’d better get down to the creek. There’s good running water there and the fish seem to like it, but I wouldn’t recommend it if you suffer from goose pimples. I could heat up a bath for you next Saturday week if that’s to your taste.’ Then she went away, cackling again, leaving the door ajar.
Sunshine hopped out of bed and pulled on his shirt and pants double quick. Then he went into the outer room, where he caught the rich smell of frying ham and eggs. Bethany turned from the primitive stove where she was working a minor miracle.
‘You made the right choice, son,’ she said. ‘Sit yourself down and have a good hearty breakfast: ham and pancakes. Eat up good ’cause we’ve got a long day ahead of us.’
Sunshine sat down at table and, from the noises his stomach made, he judged it thought it was in food heaven.
‘You still hungry?’ the old woman asked.
‘I can sure eat a little,’ he conceded.
‘Coffee too,’ she said. ‘We don’t drink home brew in the morning in case we fall asleep on the job.’
‘What’s the plan?’ Sunshine asked as he prepared to stuff a portion of pancake into his mouth.
‘We don’t have plans,’ she said. ‘We just have ideas. My idea is we go into town and fix ourselves up with glass to patch up the windows those deadbeats shot out yesterday.’
‘Is town far?’ he asked.
‘No more than a mile. There’s other supplies I need too.’
‘How do we get there?’
‘We go in by buckboard. I might be pretty poor but I’m not dirt poor – and I’ve got something else you might like to look at.’ She reached into a drawer and pulled out what looked like a whole bundle of leather. ‘You ever handled one of these afore?’ She put the bundle on the table in front of him and he saw it was a handgun in a holster.
‘What’s this?’ he said.
‘This is a Colt Peacemaker revolver,’ she said, ‘with a holster and a cartridge belt. Could be handy if we get into a scrape.’
‘Where did you get it?’
‘That’s for me to know.’ She tapped her nose with an index finger.
‘What d’you want me to do with it?’
‘You just strap it round your waist and look important. Folks see you wearing it they’ll think you’re a gunman – or at least you mean business.’
Sunshine looked at her in surprise.
‘If folks think I’m a gunman they might call me out. That could be dangerous, you know.’
Bethany nodded. ‘You got a point there, Sunshine. We don’t want you to get yourself killed before your time, do we? So I suggest we keep it hidden under a blanket in the buckboard. How would that be?’
Sunshine agreed that might be a whole lot better.
Together they measured up the broken windows. After that they harnessed the horses to the buckboard.
‘I guess I’ll ride Chingalong and you can drive the buckboard,’ Sunshine said.
‘That’s OK by me,’ Bethany said.
Chingalong was bright-eyed and ready for action after a well-earned rest and it didn’t take long to get into town. Sunshine saw that Logan wasn’t much of a town, though there were a few stores with pots and pans hanging up in the windows. He noticed the barber shop too, with a pole of red and white stripes above the door and a sign that said CLOSE SHAVE BARBER’S and, underneath, Come in, we do you good.
Bethany drew up outside the most important-looking store and climbed down on to the sidewalk.
‘This is where we get the glass,’ she told Sunshine. ‘Keep hold of that Winchester of yourn,’ she added. ‘Maybe you should stock up on shells in case we meet those scaramouches again.’
They walked into the store and Sunshine looked around. There was a smell of leather and polish and many other indefinable odours. The storekeeper was invisible behind a newsheet.
‘Morning, Mrs Bartok,’ his voice chimed out. ‘What can I get you on this good sunny morning?’ He lowered the newsheet and peered at Sunshine through small specs at the end of his nose. ‘Ah, so you got yourself a new assistant, Mrs Bartok?’
Bethany grunted. ‘This is Sunshine,’ she said.
‘Well, that’s a good name to have,’ the storekeeper observed, greeting Sunshine with a smile. ‘Got a good cheery smile to match, too. Good morning, Sunshine.’ He nodded and stood up behind the counter. ‘You come from far, Mr Sunshine?’
Sunshine smiled. ‘Ju
st passing through, mister.’
‘Some kind of tumbleweed. Would that be right?’
‘It might be so,’ Sunshine said. ‘Depends what a man finds, doesn’t it?’
‘The way you talk, you sound like an educated man,’ the storekeeper said.
‘I did have a little schooling,’ Sunshine admitted. ‘Didn’t take to it too well. So I decided to strike out West.’
‘Well now, Mr Snaze,’ Bethany suddenly intervened, ‘maybe you’d care to look down my list and see if you can oblige.’
Snaze turned to Bethany and gave her a toothy grin.
‘Why, of course, that would be my pleasure, ma’am. Why don’t you just set yourself down and have yourself a mug of that fresh coffee my good lady brews up.’
As if by magic a somewhat lean and hungry-looking woman appeared from the back room.
‘Why, good morning, Mrs Bartok,’ she said heartily, giving Sunshine a passing glance. ‘Please come through. It’s a real pleasure to see you.’
The two women disappeared through a curtain from behind which Sunshine heard the sound of chatter and laughter, mostly from Mrs Snaze. They say fat people are more talkative and cheerful than thin people, but Mrs Snaze certainly wasn’t fat.
Mr Snaze peered at Bethany’s list through his small specs, grunting and saying ‘yes’, ‘yes’, and ‘I’ve got some out back’. Then he looked up at Sunshine.
‘See Mrs Bartok’s got glass listed here, with the size. Would that be window glass?’
Sunshine nodded. ‘That would be window glass, Mr Snaze. Did you have any other kind?’
Snaze chuckled. ‘Well, there’s glass and glass, Mr Sunshine.’
‘In that case you’d better make it the toughest you’ve got. Bullet proof would be best.’
The storekeeper peered at Sunshine through his specs.
‘Bullet proof,’ he muttered. ‘We don’t have bullet proof. We just have ordinary window glass.’ He glanced at the door of the shop and then back at Sunshine. ‘Are you telling me someone took a shot at the Bartok place and broke a window?’
Sunshine grinned. ‘I’m not telling you anything, Mr Snaze. I’m just ordering glass for a broken window – two, in fact.’
‘Hm,’ Snaze said. ‘I’ll just go out back and see what I’ve got in stock. If you’ll be kind enough to keep an eye on the shore.’
‘Be glad to, Mr Snaze. Thanks for the honour.’
Snaze raised an eyebrow and went through to the back of the store.
Sunshine retrieved the Winchester carbine he’d left on a chair and went to the door. Through the window he could see all the people walking and riding by. He looked towards Bethany’s buckboard and then at Chingalong at the hitching rail. As he watched a man approached Chingalong and started running his hand over the horse’s back, as though he was assessing him for the knacker’s yard. Sunshine stepped out on to the sidewalk.
The man turned slowly and glanced in his direction; something about him looked vaguely familiar. Then a memory slotted into Sunshine’s brain. Why, he thought, unless I’m a Dutchman, that’s one of the hombres that was gunning down on the Bartok place yesterday.
As if by thought transference, the man turned towards him.
‘Is this your hoss, sonny?’
Sunshine stiffened. ‘What’s that to you, Granddad?’
A wave of black anger passed across the man’s face, which wasn’t exactly handsome in the first place.
‘Did I hear you right?’ he snarled.
Sunshine shook his head.
‘That depends on what you heard.’
The man mounted the sidewalk and took a step in Sunshine’s direction. Sunshine gave him an appraising look. The man was maybe four or five inches taller than Sunshine and twice as heavy. He wore a black vest and a handgun low on his hip.
‘So,’ the man said, ‘we’ve got a real blabbermouth here. Did someone tell you you need a haircut, sonny?’
Sunshine smiled. ‘Matter of fact someone mentioned it only yesterday.’
‘Well, sonny – or is it missy – I can’t make up my mind—’
‘You don’t have to, Granddad, since it’s none of your business.’
The man’s face went dark purple with rage.
‘Oh, I think it is my business all right, since I’m gonna shove that pretty face of yourn right down into that drink trough here and if you happen to drown in the process that will be just too bad.’
The prospect looked decidedly ugly. The big man took a step or two closer to Sunshine and Sunshine knew there was only one choice: he could either face being ducked in the horse trough or use the pugilistic skills he had learned back home. He stood quite still as the bully came right up to him and reached out with his right hand to seize Sunshine by the collar.
Sunshine was light and very fast; he ducked to one side and brought his fist into the big man’s belly. It wasn’t the heaviest of blows but the bully gave a grunt of pain and surprise. Before he could draw back Sunshine crouched low, grabbed the man’s arm, then swung his own right leg so that bully fell forward and sideways against the horse trough. He hung there momentarily before disappearing over the side with a huge splash.
Sunshine stood for a moment trying to get his breath back, but he knew he was in better shape than his opponent. The man had disappeared into the horse trough; now he rose spluttering and spewing out water. Sunshine reached for the Stetson that had fallen into the trough and jammed it on the man’s head. Then he pushed the man down into the trough again.
‘Did I hear you mention a haircut, Granddad?’ he wheezed.
There were roars of laughter from all around. Sunshine drew back from the trough and picked up the Winchester he had cast aside. He became aware of the crowd that had assembled to watch the fracas. Among them was Bethany Bartok; she was holding the Peacemaker and pointing it at the bully in the trough.
‘Get away from the trough,’ she said to Sunshine.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he agreed.
As the bully sat in the trough with his wet Stetson perched on his head and water cascading down his face everyone laughed; nobody stretched out a hand to help him.
‘How in heaven’s name did you do that?’ someone asked Sunshine.
‘It just sort of came naturally,’ Sunshine said with due modesty.
‘Well now, you’re not just a pretty face, Sunshine,’ Bethany said. ‘You’ve sure proved that and I guess they’re not gonna like it one little bit.’
Sunshine was quite wet from the splash but fortunately the sun was fully out and ready to dry him.
‘You got everything on your list?’ he asked her.
‘I think that’s everything I need – with a bonus,’ she said.
Mr and Mrs Snaze were loading everything on to the buckboard, taking care to wrap the window glass in a blanket.
‘My word and glory be!’ Mrs Snaze said. ‘How did that saddle bum get into the trough? Did a horse duck him in there?’
That caused another round of laughter. The storekeeper, who was somewhat prone to exaggeration, spoke up.
‘I seen it all, every move. That Sunshine ain’t as sunny as he looks. For such a small guy he’s almost as strong as Samson himself.’
‘Must be the hair,’ someone volunteered.
‘What have you been eating, boy?’ another man asked. Bethany held out the Peacemaker.
‘Here, take this, Sunshine. I guess you’ve earned it.’
Sunshine held up his hand. ‘Thanks a lot, Bethany, but first I must help my friend out of the bath.’
More laughter.
The bully now had his hands on the sides of the trough. Sunshine took hold of his arm to steady him.
‘Let me give you a hand, my friend.’
‘Keep away from me, boy,’ the bully grunted. He crawled out on to the sidewalk, stood up shakily and shook himself like a wet dog. Then he reached down for his gun.
‘Don’t do that, mister, unless you want to find yourself in the drink again,’
Sunshine warned him.
The bully took Sunshine’s measure and shook his head.
‘I’ll get you for this, missy,’ he growled.
‘Don’t bother, Granddad,’ Sunshine said. ‘Put the whole thing down to experience.’
‘Good morning, folks,’ a voice said. ‘What seems to be the trouble here?’
‘Good morning, Sheriff,’ Snaze the storekeeper replied. ‘Nothing to worry about. Just a little horseplay. It’s all over now.’
‘Horseplay?’ someone echoed. ‘That’s real neat!’
Yet more laughter.
‘This is Sheriff McGiven,’ Bethany introduced. ‘This here is Stubbs Shining, Sheriff. Likes to be called Sunshine.’
‘Well, it’s good to meet you, Sunshine. I didn’t see what happened but you sure gave Slam Smith a dunking.’
‘Didn’t have a whole lot of choice,’ Sunshine said. ‘It was him or me and I prefer to have my bath less publicly.’
The sheriff grinned. He was somewhat stout but he stood up straight and tall.
‘Well, that’s OK, just as long as you realize Slam isn’t gonna be any too pleased – and neither will the Cutaway brothers. Did you have any other business in town?’
‘I think that’s just about everything,’ Bethany said. ‘Time we moseyed on home before the clouds bring down thunder and lightning.’
Since there wasn’t a cloud in the sky that remark gave rise to more laughter. Clearly Bethany Bartok was regarded as a local funster. Sunshine ran his hand down Chingalong’s neck and mounted up.
‘You hear all that shenanigans, Ching? Don’t worry yourself too much on that account, and don’t let it spoil your thirst either. We can find some other water hole further along the trail – and I guess it will be a lot purer.’
He swung Chingalong away from the hitching line and on to Main Street. Most of the townsfolk had gone about their business but one or two were still hanging about, grinning and laughing up at Sunshine.
‘Where did you learn those fancy tricks?’ someone asked.
‘I learned them at the feet of the Great Lama of Oz,’ Sunshine replied as he swung Chingalong alongside Bethany’s buckboard.