by Tony Masero
“I’d like that,” she whispered.
Ahlen had begun to admit to himself that he too liked the new Annie Caldense. She had courage, he could see that and he knew that although her unfortunate occupation had been forced on her, yet it had done nothing to damage her self-esteem. It had been a necessary evil for her to undertake and she had confronted it with fortitude. She had also grown into a fine looking woman, he decided.
“I’m quitting the saloon work,’ she said suddenly.
“Glad to hear it. It was never your style, Annie. I understand how you had to go down that road but you’re better off without it.’
“I know it,” she agreed. “Don’t know what else I’ll do though. Just have to find something, I guess.”
“It’s a damn shame this town isn’t as it was. The whole community prospered then, now its just one man that benefits as far as I can see.”
“Ty Fells, you mean?”
“I do.”
She paused, running her finger along the brass frame at the foot of the bed. “Something you should know,” she confessed slowly. “Ty and me. Well, we had a thing for a while. Its over now,” she added hurriedly. “Over, good and proper.”
“Okay, Annie. What’s done is done, don’t fret on it.”
“Steer clear of him, Ahlen. He’s not the same person we knew as children. There’s a real mean streak there now.”
“Yes,” said Ahlen. “Its strange how we all turn out isn’t it. Who’d have thought it, huh? But I ain’t about to let old times comes between me and what’s right and that’s a fact.”
“I mean it, Ahlen,” she said, a slight frown creasing her bruised brow. “Ty has a lot to lose here and he won’t give it up easy.”
“And, we all have a lot to gain without him,” Ahlen said with finality.
********
For the next few months Ahlen was forced to convalesce. He spent a great deal of time with Annie and got to know her small son, Petey who was only four years old. A round faced, chirpy and robust little boy and easily liked by the whole household. Ahlen’s mother particularly took to the child and they spent many happy hours together in the kitchen whilst she made bread and pies and he wildly dusted the whole room with flour. Cooking was a full time occupation for Mrs. Best now as she had such a busy household to contend with but the elderly lady thrived on the challenge and obviously loved having so many close folk around.
Even Charlie Bob spent time with the youngster and confessed to Len that it felt like having a small brother with him. The two of them would ramble in the nearby woods and Charlie Bob took the boy with him when he went lakeside to fish for coaster trout and freshwater drum.
It left Annie able to spend time with Ahlen and as she spoon fed and cared for him they found that they did not tire of each others company which seemed to grow and blossom as the time passed.
Eventually, Ahlen’s wounds healed and the use returned to his fingers. He practiced flexing his hands daily, repeating the painful exercises that Doc Barnes had recommended. There was some loss of his gripping ability but when Len came in with some leather wristbands he had fashioned, Ahlen found that they gave him additional support and his grip strengthened as a result.
Time dragged though and he began to feel bored and restless at being trapped in the house. Ahlen was an active man, who had regained much of the strength he had lost during the years of war and wandering and he had filled out under his mother’s culinary skills and was now much like the strong and able man he had been in pre-war days. None of which helped his mood of continuing boredom. His hands felt good again despite the scars and he hungered to use them in some worthwhile pastime.
It was in such an irritable state that he sat alone on the porch one sunny day in July when Ty Fells came calling.
“Howdy, Ahlen,” called Ty from the gate. “Mind if I come in?”
Ahlen glowered but made no answer and Ty shrugging, opened the gate and stepped up to the porch.
“Look, Ahlen,” he began. “I came over to apologize. It was unnecessary and stupid. If I didn’t need them so, I’d fire the whole bunch of them. I swear I would.”
Ahlen stayed seated, silently looking at him.
“Come on, Ahlen,” pleaded Ty. “We were friends once. We can be that again.”
“I ain’t got nothing to say to you, Ty,” said Ahlen.
“Why?” begged Ty. “Why be like that? There’s nothing I’d like better than to be buddies. Look I can offer you work. You must be needing the cash with all the people in your house. Come work for me, it’ll be great. I’ll see you’re well taken care of. What do you say?”
Ahlen shook his head. “Not that, Ty. Never. You’ve turned this island into a cesspit. There’s no forgiving that.”
“How can you say that?” Ty pleaded. “There’s easy money being made here hand over fist. More than was ever made in my father’s time. And it’s without all the danger and terrible accidents that happened during the logging days.”
“That was honest work, Ty. Work a man could be proud of, risks and all. Now you’ve got backstreet thugs behaving like the law and the law as it is, is inside your wallet. We all know this meat trade is dishonest and – ”
“Come on, come on,” broke in Ty, spreading his hands innocently. “The wood trade takes too long to show profit, it’s arduous and expensive. My way gets results quicker and without any pain. So it involves a little bit of dubious trade, but you know that when Congress cut back like they did we had to do something to survive somehow.”
“It’s not so much that, its what follows. The whores and drunkenness, gunsels and violence. Nothing good comes out of crime, at whatever scale it’s on and I reckon you’re earning yourself a pretty penny off the back of it all as well.”
“Its true,’ said Ty. “I ain’t complaining. Yes, I’ve made a few bucks. People look up to me now; they see what I’ve done for this town. Pulled it out of a backwater and made it a place to be reckoned with.”
“That ain’t so, Ty. The people here, the ones that matter anyhow, regret what’s happened and they lay it all at your door. If you think that’s respect, then your living in a pipe dream.”
“Ach!” spat Ty. “That’s just the few old fogey’s who still continue to hold onto the old ways. Times are changing, Ahlen. The war’s over and there’s one hell of a market out there as folks resettle. We got to keep up if we’re going to prosper.” He paused suddenly and sighed, seeing he was getting nowhere. “Look,” he said finally. “I just come by to make things right between us. To apologize and offer some compensation for the wrong. Here, look,” he offered a thick leather wallet and Ahlen could see the wad of greenbacks sticking out from it. “This is for you.”
“Keep your money,” Ahlen brusquely brushed the wallet aside. “I want none of it.”
“Think about it. Don’t make the wrong choice, Ahlen,” Ty’s tone changed and his voice held a warning note. “Don’t go against me. Old friends or not, you’re either with me or against me, there ain’t no middle ground.”
“Be sure of one thing, Ty,” Ahlen said coldly. “I’m against you.”
Ty stepped back, his features frozen. Nervously, he brushed at a lick of his slicked down hair.
“If that’s the way of it then...,” he said.
“Get off my damned porch,” Ahlen interrupted, his irritation bubbling up. Getting to his feet and standing tall, he towered over Ty. “Take your money and your cheap pomade stink with you and go, before I whup your ass down the street.”
Ty backed away, twin spots of color appearing on his cheeks. His teeth gritted in anger and the muscles of his jaw worked as he sought to control himself.
“You might be sorry you said that,” he growled with contained menace.
“The day I turn from you, Ty, will be the day I give up and roll over like some yellow cur dog.”
“Maybe it’ll come to that.” Ty turned his back abruptly and walked away up the path towards the front gate. “Give my respects
to your whore,” he sneered over his shoulder. “I had a lot of fun with her and I’m sure you will too. In the time you’ve got left, that is.”
“Don’t come here again, Ty,” Ahlen called after him.
When he had gone, Annie stepped out onto the porch from inside the hallway where she had been standing listening.
“You heard all that?” Ahlen asked.
She nodded.
“Pay it no heed. It don’t mean nothing, just a fool blowing heat in the wind,” Ahlen reassured her.
“Oh, Ahlen,” she sighed. “I’ll always be thought of like that in this town. A cheap saloon girl, a dirty nobody to be played with and forgotten.”
“Not by me you won’t,” he took her in his arms. “No one I know will ever think of you like that.”
Ahlen kissed her then. A soft warm kiss that broke through Annie’s distress. She threw her arms about him in relief and kissed him back fervently. They stayed that way for some time until Annie broke away, tears of joy running down her cheek.
“Oh, Ahlen. I’ve waited so long. Did you realize that? I didn’t dare hope. You know I love you, don’t you? Always have.”
He looked down at her shining upturned face and wiped away her tears with his thumb. “I guess I do,” he said.
“But Ty won’t leave it there.”
Ahlen nodded again. “I know it. It was bound to come to a head sometime. That was decided the moment he set his hound dogs on me.”
She pressed herself gratefully against him, holding him tightly about the waist as Ahlen looked over her head across at the gate and onto the road outside, along the way Ty had gone.
He wondered what the first move would be.
***********
It came soon enough and it came with the sound of tears.
They all heard the wailing from inside the house and rushed in a group to the door. Little Petey stood alone outside the front gate unable to open it, as he was too small to reach up to the catch. Annie rushed down the path and threw open the gate, gathering the distressed child into her arms.
“What is it?” asked Ahlen, running up.
“I don’t know,” said Annie, petting the sobbing and screaming child. “He’s too upset to say.”
“Wait,” said Len, who came up behind. “Where’s Charlie Bob, he should be with him. They both went off fishing together.”
Ahlen’s heart sank, as he feared he saw Ty’s hand at play. “We’ll go find him,” he promised Len. “Come on.”
The two men loped off towards the town without a second’s hesitation. When they arrived at the normally active township the streets were strangely empty. Breathless, they stood a moment looking around warily. Then they both heard the noisy cries of an irate crowd from somewhere off near the lakeside.
“It’s coming from the dock,” panted Len. “Come on.”
They ran on until they came upon a noisy congregation gathered outside one of the dockside cabins where a combined crowd of workers and townsfolk raged and ranted.
“It’s murder, plain bloody murder!” The two heard shouted.
Then, “String the little beggar up!”
Ahlen did not hesitate; using his bulk he shouldered his way through the mass of people. Brutally shoving them aside with Len following close behind in his wake.
When they reached the front of the mob that saw that it ringed two bodies. Charlie Bob lay propped up against a log walled shed, his head flopped limply to one side and a pistol still held in one loose hand. Before him, lay the body of a man lying face down. From beneath the body a copious amount of blood still flowed, creating an expanding scarlet pool on the ground.
Len rushed over to his son, “Charlie Bob!” he cried, taking the boy in his arms. Ahlen knelt beside them and eased the pistol from the boy’s grip. He could smell the strong stench of whisky on the young man.
“The boy’s stinking drunk, Len,” he said. “He’s passed out with it.”
“Anybody know this man?” Ahlen asked, turning to the crowd and indicating the corpse with the pistol.
“Sure,” said a man in the forward ranks. “He’s old Ben Astley. Never hurt a soul, just liked his liquor a lot.”
“Anybody see what happened here?” Ahlen asked.
Sheriff Deed Langstrom, thrust his way through crying out angrily, “Come on, now! Get out the damned way, the law’s coming here.”
Langstrom took in the scene in a single glance. “What’s this Ahlen, Len? Your boy been getting into trouble?”
“He’s dead drunk, Deed,” said Ahlen. “Doubt if he could stand, let alone shoot anyone.”
“That his gun you’re holding?” asked Langstrom.
“He had it in his hand,” said Ahlen. “But I’ve never seen it before. You know this pistol, Len?”
“No!” snapped Len, still clutching his son to him. “Charlie Bob never owned such a thing.”
“It’s a setup, Deed,” said Ahlen. “Pretty damned obvious. The kid’s been dropped in it. Who here knows who he was drinking with?”
“I seen him over at The Rolling Dice,” called an old timer.
“That’ll be it,” growled Ahlen. “It’s Tyrone and his boys at work.”
“Now hold on,” said Langstrom. “Just don’t go off in a rage, Ahlen. We have to do this legal. I’ll take the boy in. Got to be,” he said hurriedly, stilling Len’s complaint. “Boy or not, he has to stand the charge. Lookit, he’s lying there with a smoking gun in his hand before a fallen man. What else am I supposed to do?”
“You could string him up right now,” cried a voice from the crowd. “Save the county some money.”
Ahlen stood and raised himself to his full height. “Anybody wants a lynching party here they have to go through me first.”
“That’s right,” said Langstrom, hand hanging over his gun butt. “There’ll be no lynching. I’ll take the boy down the jailhouse and we’ll get the judge over from the mainland. Settle this in a proper legal manner. Now any of you folks witness what went on?”
“I saw it!” cried a chubby; bowler hatted bookish looking man in a plain brown suit. He elbowed his way forward to stand before the sheriff. “I saw it all. It was murder, plain and simple.”
“Your name, sir?” asked Deed.
“My name’s Corbin H. Tyle, sheriff. I saw the boy shoot that fellow down. They was drunk and arguing. Boy just pulled on him and let him have it.”
He said it fast without hesitation and to Ahlen’s mind, in a rehearsed manner as if he had been told what to say.
“It stinks, Deed. You smell it?” he said to Langstrom. “Smells so ripe, I reckon a hog’s been at play.”
“Give me the pistol, Ahlen,” said Langstrom, holding out his hand and reluctantly, Ahlen handed over the gun. “Now,” Langstrom continued. “Let’s get this boy down to the jailhouse. Some of you fellows see the body there gets over to the undertaker.”
The crowd slowly dispersed with Len and the sheriff walking off, propping a staggering semi-conscious Charlie Bob between them. Ahlen stayed a while studying the site and watching as four of the crowd hauled the dead man away. The buildings were close in there, he noticed, plenty of alleyways and shadowed places. Easy for an assassin to remain unseen as he pumped a shell in the unfortunate Ben Astley. Then, a moment’s work to lay a throwaway pistol in the unconscious Charlie Bob’s hand before the crowd gathered.
Ty was keeping his promise all right. To Ahlen’s way of thinking, he was attempting to bring a lot of grief to the Best family. Ahlen though, was not about to surrender so easily and an idea occurred. He hurried off to ask a special favor before joining Len at the jailhouse.
“What’re we going to do?” asked Len, when he arrived.
“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out,” answered Ahlen confidently.
The jailhouse was a two-room arrangement, the main office area fronted the street and behind lay four cells, each one barred from ceiling to floor and accessed through a hefty wooden dividing door. Charlie Bob lay on a m
ean bunk, his head hanging disconsolately over the side, a bucket under his chin.
“How is he?” asked Ahlen.
“I think he’s thrown up most of his insides. He’ll get over it but with the hell of a hangover,” said Len, shaking his head sorrowfully.
Langstrom eyed them both speculatively as he hung up the cell keys. “Now you boys are going to play fair, ain’t you?” he asked. “I don’t want no trouble here.”
“You and I both know this is Ty Fells at work,” said Ahlen. “I never seen such an obvious setup. Look at that kid in there, there’s no way he could have done anything but fall down.”
“We don’t know that, Ahlen,” said Langstrom. “We’ll let a judge decide. I’ll see to it pronto.”
“Sure you will,” Ahlen was bitter. “Long as Ty tells you to jump, you’ll do it.”
“That ain’t so. This is a legal matter, nothing to do with Ty.”
“Well, I for one ain’t about to let anything happen to my boy,” said Len, his face tight. “He’s no more than a kid.”
“Depends, don’t it?” sighed Langstrom, with a tired look of indifference. “Whether he’s done a man’s work or not. If he has then he’ll have to pay the price, same as everybody else.”
“Let’s go,” said Ahlen. “Nothing we can do here.”
“I’ll be getting in deputies, you know?” warned Langstrom to their departing backs. “Nobody gets in here ‘til the trial, unless I say so.”
It was a solemn walk back to the house for the two men.
“I just don’t know,” said Len. “I can’t believe Charlie Bob did any of that.”
“ ‘Course he never,” said Ahlen. “It’s all my fault for riling Ty, he’s determined now. Going to chip away at us until we break. But it ain’t going to happen, Len. Count on it.”
“But how?” asked Len desperately. “How we going to get Charlie Bob off?”
“There’ll be a few days before the judge gets over. We got some work to do before that. I want you to check out the fellow in the bowler hat. Ask around, who is he and where’d he come from? There’ll be some connection with Ty, you can bet on it. We need to find out what that is.”