by Petit, C. J.
“Hell, Goofy, we didn’t like Billy either.”
“I know, but he was my brother. How would you feel if someone killed your brother?”
Jack smiled and replied, “I’d have myself a big party. How did it happen?”
Goofy told Jack that Slow John just walked into the house and scared Billy to death, but the details were a bit sketchy.
“How could anybody scare somebody to death?” Jack asked with a queasiness in his stomach.
“I don’t know, but Billy and Elmer sure were scared of Slow John for some reason they never talked about. And everybody knew that after Billy died, Slow John moved right in and was diddling his wife, too.”
“You’re kidding! Who did Billy marry?”
“Melissa Blake. She’s back workin’ at her father’s store now.”
“How did Billy ever latch onto Melissa Blake? She was one good-looking filly.”
Goofy snickered and said, “Billy caught her one night and deflowered her. Billy then goes and tells her papa about it and he made Billy marry her.”
Jack giggled and replied, “I wouldn’t mind payin’ her a visit myself.”
“She’s livin’ all by herself over on Fourth Street. I think it’s number 10 or 12.”
As Goofy was talking, all thoughts of a job flew from Jack’s mind and was replaced with memories of Melissa, but with a different element added. He was intensely jealous that Slow John had been getting serviced regularly by Melissa and he had never even talked to her.
“Well, maybe I’ll pay her that visit, then.”
“Are you gonna go back to North Platte and pay back Slow John for killin’ Billy?”
“Sure. He doesn’t scare me at all. I’m packing iron now. I’ll just shoot him the next time I see him.”
“You any good with that thing?”
“Of course, I am. I can hit a nickel tossed into the air at fifty feet.”
“Wow! Can you show me?”
“Not inside the city, I can’t. You know, they got all those laws.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot.”
“Well, I’ll come back and see you later, Goofy. We can go and have some fun.”
“Okay. Bye, Jack.” Goofy replied as Jack left the house, and wondered if he should by a pistol.
Jack walked down to Stella’s diner to get something to eat while trying to figure out what would be the best time to go and visit Melissa.
_____
John was more than happy with the train’s progress. The engineer had really poured on the coal to get back. What was unusual was that the train didn’t have to pull over to a siding once to let a full construction train pass, which always had priority. It was simply a matter of timing. He thought the train hurtling across the plains was moving faster than he had ever gone before. He wouldn’t have been a bit surprised to hear that the empty train had reached sixty miles per hour.
If it wasn’t for the water and coal stops, he could have made it to Omaha in six hours, but as it was, he was pleased when the train pulled into the Union Pacific yard in eight hours and eleven minutes. There was even daylight left when he got off the train, and no one had ever checked his tickets, either.
He had saddled Cross long before reaching Omaha, so as soon as the train stopped, he dropped the car’s loading ramp to the ground, walked the gelding down, stepped up and began to work his way around the tracks. He noticed that he hadn’t gone a hundred yards and workers were already beginning to load the train for its return trip to end of track.
He left the yard before five-thirty and headed south, letting Cross eat up the short eight-mile ride in just forty minutes. The sun was just about gone as he arrived in Bellevue.
_____
Melissa walked home, grateful for the streetlights in the dying light, as she turned onto Fourth Street and hurriedly stepped along to number twelve. She went down the short walkway and unlocked the door, closing it quickly behind her, and locking it again immediately.
She blew out her breath, took off her light jacket and hung it up on her coat rack before walking to the kitchen to fix herself some dinner.
Across the street from Melissa’s house, Elmer Garson leaned against a cottonwood tree, and after Melissa had gone into her house, crossed the street and peered into her window. He could see her in her kitchen making herself something to eat. He ran his tongue across his upper lip and then wiped the moisture off with the back of his hand. He knew that Melissa knew he was there and enjoyed letting him watch her. Ever since Billy had died, he’d let her know that he was ready whenever she was. She pretended not to want him around, but he knew better.
He was so fixated on watching Melissa move that he didn’t see Jack Flynn walking quietly on the grass to his right.
Jack had spotted Elmer when he had turned onto Fourth Street and pulled his Manhattan Navy pistol. He still had never fired the gun, but how hard could it be? You just pull back the hammer and then pull the trigger, just like a shotgun. Besides, against Elmer, his biggest weapon wasn’t going to be the pistol, it was going to be his fear of Slow John that would get rid of him.
He had the pistol in his hand and walked quietly behind Elmer. Jack gave a glance into the house, saw Melissa in the kitchen and was happy about his decision to come and visit her. But first, he needed to get rid of Elmer.
Jack closed the gap and suddenly rammed the muzzle of his pistol into Elmer’s side and said, “Don’t move, Elmer, unless you want to die.”
Elmer went from reverie to panic in a flash. The voice was familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it.
“Who are you and what do you want? I ain’t got any money.”
“I’m Jack Flynn, Elmer. I don’t care about your money. Slow John said to come over here and make sure that you weren’t here when he arrived. He’ll be here soon and said he was going to do to you what he did to Billy Bannister.”
Elmer almost lost control of his bladder, but managed to stay dry.
“I ain’t doin’ nothin’. I was just leavin’.
“If you come back, Slow John is gonna be mighty mad, and you don’t want to see him mad, do you?”
Jack had no idea that he had just sent Elmer’s mind back to that day when the tiny Slow John Flynn had whipped him and Billy Bannister at the same time when he got mad, and this time Elmer wet himself.
“I’m leavin’. Okay?”
“Get out of here!”
Elmer sprinted back toward Mission Avenue and turned left back toward the center of town, then suddenly slowed down and bent over at the waist, taking big gulps of air. He thought he had just come close to dying and was lucky to be alive.
Jack was impressed with himself and jogged across the street and rapped on Melissa’s door.
Melissa dropped her wooden spoon and spun around to the door. She walked slowly across her front room and peered out the window, expecting to see Elmer Garson peering at her, but instead saw the smiling face of Jack Flynn. What was Jack Flynn doing here? Melissa thought it must have something to do with John, so she smiled and unlocked the door.
“Jack? What are you doing here?”
“John sent me. He’s coming along shortly and said I should come and let you know.”
Melissa melted inside at the words and smiled broadly at Jack.
“When is John arriving? I need to make myself presentable.”
“Oh, you have plenty of time. His train doesn’t get in for another hour.”
Melissa didn’t notice the obvious as the thought of Slow John’s return distracted her. Why would Jack be here already, and John’s train isn’t?
“Oh, did you want to come in and have some coffee? I was just getting ready to eat.”
“Thanks, coffee would be nice.”
Jack walked in behind Melissa, admiring the view and swinging the door closed behind him, but it didn’t latch.
_____
John was trotting Cross down Mission Avenue when to his surprise, he spotted Elmer Garson walking along the south boardwalk,
and constantly looking behind him, paying no attention at all to John.
No time like the present, he thought, and quickly dismounted then stepped up to the boardwalk. He just stood there and waited for Elmer to walk into him, which he did.
Elmer was startled when he bumped into another person who wasn’t there a second ago, and when he looked he wasn’t sure he knew him, but then he began to worry that it was him, Slow John Flynn. He was awfully big and a bit different, but it sure looked like him.
John confirmed his suspicion.
“Elmer, you probably don’t remember me. I’m Slow John Flynn, and Melissa Blake asked me to come and pay you a visit. Do you know why?”
Elmer was shaking when he said, “I know. Jack already told me. I won’t bother her no more. Honest, Slow John. I won’t.”
John almost missed it, but then asked quickly, “Jack? My brother Jack?”
“Yeah. He said you sent him.”
“Where is he?”
“I saw him at Melissa’s place. But I ain’t ever goin’ there again. Really.”
“You’d better not, Elmer. I have my ways of knowing.”
With that, Elmer sprinted away, leaving the wafting sour smell of urine behind him.
As soon as he made his break, so did John as he took three long strides to Cross, put his left boot into the stirrup and had Cross moving before he was in the saddle.
_____
Melissa was pouring the coffee when Jack pulled his pistol and pressed the muzzle into Melissa’s back.
She turned around quickly, saw the gun and dropped the coffeepot, letting hot coffee spread across the kitchen floor.
“Jack, what are you doing?” she asked breathlessly, knowing exactly what he was planning on doing.
“I’m going to hurt you, Melissa. I’m going to make you so afraid that you’ll be shaking while I take you. I want you to be scared, Melissa. I want you to think what it’s going to feel like when my bullet enters that beautiful, soft body of yours, right after I do.”
“What about John? Where’s Slow John?”
“Him? Who knows. He’s probably still in North Platte, looking for me. I killed six men yesterday, Melissa. Shot them all dead and laughed about it. So, Melissa, let’s go into your bedroom and if you can act scared enough, I might let you live.”
Melissa suddenly took her eyes off Jack’s pistol when a shadow moved in the main room. She smiled and exhaled, saying, “Slow John. You came.”
Jack snickered. “I’m not falling for that trick. It’s the oldest in the book, lady. I’m not stupid.”
Then Jack’s insides turned to jelly when he heard that distinctive voice of his nightmares.
“No, Jack, you’re not stupid. But you are evil. You raped Kate Walsh and tried to kill her, and you raped and killed Ida Mitchell. It ends tonight, Jack. Tonight, you die. You’ll never hurt another woman, especially not Melissa.”
Jack spun around and pointed his gun at Slow John and was so terrified he didn’t cock the hammer, he just squeezed the trigger harder and harder.
For the second time in his life, Slow John Flynn was angry. He slid his Remington back into its holster and pulled the hammer loop into place as he slowly walked into the kitchen. Melissa was backing away to give John room. She had never seen him this way, but she wasn’t frightened of John at all. She knew he was here to protect her.
Jack had his back against the sink as John steadily grew closer without saying a word, his eyes volcanic with anger. When he was within eight feet, Jack hurled his pistol at him, the pistol’s grip striking him in the chest, but John didn’t even flinch as the six-shooter clattered to the coffee-covered floor.
Melissa cringed when she saw the pistol’s barrel smash into his chest, but was awestruck as she watched him draw near to his quaking younger brother.
Jack began to beg.
“Slow John, you can’t! I’m your brother! Who are you going to believe? Some woman you just met or me? I never hurt any women, and John…I’m going to be a father. You wouldn’t take a father away from a baby, would you?”
When John was within three feet, Jack screamed, “Say something!!!”
John finally just reached out and picked up Jack by the front of his coat, lifting him four inches off the floor. Jack began squirming like a snake in a dog’s jaws, and started kicking John and hitting his arms to try to get him to release his grip, but John seemed immune to the pain that surely must have been there.
John turned back to Melissa and in a surprisingly normal voice said, “Open the door please, Melissa.”
Melissa hurriedly opened the back door and watched as Slow John carried the still kicking and clawing Jack out the door and onto the small back porch. Melissa was mesmerized at what she was seeing. It was almost inhuman, and if she had seen anyone other than Slow John doing it, she would have been terrified, but Melissa was simply overwhelmed by his dominating presence.
When he reached the edge of the porch, John finally just straightened out his arms, opened his hands, and let Jack fall down the three small steps to the ground. Jack thought he was free and laughed as he got to his feet and started to run. But when he turned, he saw Slow John running behind him, his eyes cold and unfeeling.
Melissa had been surprised when John had simply let him drop, and thought for a moment he was letting his brother go free, but when she saw him explode out of her yard in chase, she knew that Jack was far from free.
“Go get that bastard, Slow John.” she said quietly as she walked back into her kitchen, closed and locked the door then began to clean up the coffee.
Jack thought that safety could only be found in the darkness, so when he neared Mission Avenue’s gas streetlights, he turned east as fast as he could run. He could hear Slow John right behind him, and swore he could feel the heat of his expelled breath on his neck. Every time he glanced back over his shoulder, Slow John was always just ten feet away, no matter how fast Jack ran.
His feet were blurs as the roadway ended and he began crossing a field. It was almost totally dark as he continued to attempt his escape. Darkness was Jack’s friend, as he hoped that Slow John would fall. The uncleared ground was all downhill, so he finally managed to breathe a little better. He swiveled his head expecting to see Slow John ten feet away, and was shocked to find Slow John just four feet back and was reaching to grab him again!
Jack saw those monstrous hands and remembered those eyes and his not even flinching when his pistol had bounced off his chest, and now, in this blackness when he could only barely see the slightest shadow of his older brother, he suddenly knew without a doubt, that his brother had died at Shiloh and this wasn’t his brother at all, but the devil himself coming to claim him for what he had done.
Jack stared at John’s outstretched arms as he stumbled along the rough ground, looking for signs that would show him to be right. Where were the horns? The red glow in the eyes?
Jack suddenly began to laugh and shouted, “You’re the devil, but you’re not going to get me tonight! I got those two women, but I’m not paying for it tonight, you son of Satan!!”
John quickly stopped, and Jack didn’t know why until the ground disappeared beneath him and he found himself floating in the air. For two seconds, he was enraptured, before he met the cold, rushing waters of the swollen Missouri River.
John stepped up to the river bank and barely made out the form of Jack Flynn as he struggled against the rapid current, his heavy jacket already soaking in the water and dragging him down into the dark water. Jack traveled another fifty feet before he disappeared under the black, flowing water never to surface again.
John didn’t say another word for two minutes, as he stood breathing heavily as he watched the swirling waters of the mighty Missouri flow down to meet the Mississippi at St. Louis.
When his breathing was restored to normal, he just turned and walked back up the field’s slope and after five minutes, hit the end of the roadway again. Five minutes later, he turned south on Fourth St
reet and spotted Cross in the distance, still standing in the front yard of #12, where he had left him.
He reached the house, rubbed his horse’s neck and walked to the door, and tapped on it softly, one short tap, a pause, then three more. Melissa knew the knock and yanked the door open quickly. She saw a normal Slow John and pulled him inside. After she closed the door, she was going to kiss him and drag him into her bedroom, but saw something in his eyes that changed her mind, so she made a different offer.
“John, would you like to have some coffee? I made a fresh pot for when you returned.”
“Thank you, Melissa. I’d love some coffee.”
He took her hand and they stepped into the kitchen, where John took a seat and Melissa poured two mugs of coffee. She added some sugar to hers and sat, looking at John.
“Is he dead, Slow John?”
“Yes. I chased him down to the river and he just ran right into the water. He yelled that he had done what I accused him of doing, so there was no question of his guilt. He would have hanged in any courtroom, but there was always a chance that a good lawyer could probably have gotten him off.”
“Why didn’t it hurt you when he threw his gun at you, Slow John?”
“It does now. I’ll probably be all black and blue by tomorrow. That was only the second time in my life I’ve been angry, Melissa. When it happens, I don’t see or feel anything other than the person that caused the anger.”
“You were angry because of what he was going to do to me?”
“Partly, I think that was the last straw. After seeing Kate lying in her room with lifeless eyes, I knew I had to get Jack.”
“Who’s Kate?”
John smiled at Melissa. “Let me tell you about Kate.”
John sipped his coffee as he told Melissa about Kate. He talked about how he had found her and about their brushes with outlaws and the Murphys, but mostly he talked about the times when she was happy and filled his life, and how she may be lost to him now. He talked non-stop for almost an hour before he realized how long he’d spoken.
As he spoke, Melissa knew she had lost him, but she was surprised that she wasn’t as upset as she should be. She still loved John, but hearing him speak with so much passion about a woman that seemed to have endured so much pain, ignited her compassion for both John and Kate.