Doc Holliday Must Die

Doc felt soiled. Both in his person and in his soul. He changed took his other change of business clothes and walked out of the hotel. He headed down to the barbershop to see about getting cleaned up. He had a name as being fastidious. Which meant that he took a bath more than once a month.

The barber was working on a cowboy in his chair. His establishment reeked of witch hazel and soap. He had a straight razor in his hand as he shaved off the trail dust that had accumulated during the drive up from Texas. The barber looked up and said “Be right with you sir. If you take a seat.” “I was hoping to see about a bath first. And to get my clothes laundered if I could?” “Surely that will not be a problem. You can step through the door into the alley. The bathhouse is directly across the road. I will send someone to bring you the hot water and take your clothes. It might take a while though as it would have to dry.” “I have a fresh set of possibles partner so that won’t be a problem.”

Doc walked through the door and into the alley. He saw a door directly across which was open. He could see the tubs sitting on a platform. He walked in. Shut the door and started to take off his clothes. They were stained. Stained with blood from his dentistry. Stained with his shame from his bad behavior. He had let evil companions lead him astray. Once again. He wondered who had paid. It must have been Hickok. Or maybe he didn’t pay at all. He could have his throat slit and would not have even known it. Guess his luck had held once again.  

The door opened and a young colored boy came in with a bucket of hot water that he poured into the tub. It would take a while to fill the tub. Doc sat in his breeches and took his pistol and put it close to hand. It was best to be prepared for the worst. Not that anyone in this town had it in for him. Yet. But you never know what might happen. 

Once the tub was finally filled, Doc gingerly slid into it slowly so as not to burn anything important. He took the rough soap and the almost as rough wash cloth and started to soap himself up. The door opened again and Doc dropped the soap and put his hand on his Colt. It was a young woman all covered up so he could not see her face. She went to his soiled clothing and picked them up as she turned her shawl slid down just enough to show her face. It was the Chinee whore. She looked at him briefly without expression and then fled through the door with his clothes. Life was full of surprises.

 

After finishing his ablutions, Doc dressed slowly and thoughtfully. He had been off kilter since he had arrived in this town. There were too many cross currents blowing like the bitter winds of the Kansas plains that you struggled in when you walked the filth strewn streets. He had to get a better grip or he would be blown away. 

Doc walked back to the barbershop and saw that the chair was empty. The barber beckoned to the chair as he held a cloth ready to tie around his neck. Doc sat and the barber started his work. He began to trim his hair as Doc gazed into the mirror over on the wall opposite the chair. A bell rang as the door opened and Doc put his hand on his piece. He saw in the mirror that it was John Wesley Hardin.

“How do John” said the young gunman. “I see great minds follow the same trails. Thought I might get prettified before the evening’s festivities.” “Hello John Wesley.” “Didn’t see you at the Bullshead last night. Is there another place that is more fun? I wouldn’t mind changing it up since I am a little tired of Ben Thompsons hints.” “It wasn’t anyplace better John Wesley. I was just resting so to speak. I reckon I might go back to the Bullshead tonight. Mike Williams asked me to meet the Marshal there tonight. I am a man of my word.” 

The barber proceeded to shave Doc and he looked at John Wesley Hardin in the mirror. “I know you track what Ben is aiming at. Hickok is not looking for a fight. Not with you at any rate. I can tell you that for certain sure.” “How would you know that John? I reckon I can surmise it as well but I can’t be sure.” “Well I am. Hickok told me his ownself. He is not one to lie. At least about something like that. He is the type that would come right at you. Just the way he is going at Phil Coe. That will not end well if I have to bear witness.” “Fair enough John that is good to know. I reckon you are a man of experience in these matters. Or so I hear. So I will take your advice.” “That would be good John Wesley. Tell you what. I will hang on here to you are finished and we can go get a bit of supper. Then we can go to Bullshead together and keep each other out of trouble.”