The play continued into the night. Lady Luck ladled her charms from one
player to the next. Which was not unusual as it seemed that they were evenly
matched. In time quality will tell and the drover busted on a pair of
sixes. Mike Williams was the next to
drop out as he had to walk the town for the final patrol of the night. Since he had lost a fair amount nobody
protested. That left the gunmen at the table. Hickok, Hardin, Doc and Ben Thompson
made for a deadly game. Polite and soft spoken but deadly none the less. The
only rub was the Thompson continually tried to goad Hardin into a conflict with
the Marshal. He was subtle. Maybe too subtle because Hardin while a being a hot head
did not bite at any of his provocations.
“Take two please” said Doc as he tried to match up a pair of
deuces. He drew an Ace and a Queen. He looked up and saw a new girl walk down
the stairs with a customer. She looked very familiar. Tall and pleasingly plump
she had two proud breasts prominently displayed in low cut frock. As big and
proud as they were they were nothing as compared to her regal proboscis. Her
Regal Roman Nose gave her a strong and bold countenance. She seemed to him to be someone he knew from long ago. Where did he know her from?
He turned back to the table the play was to him and he
had been raised five dollars so he folded. Thompson took the hand. Again. If he
kept that up he might be the one to have a problem with Hardin. Men plan and God laughs.
While Hickok was shuffling the deck the girl came up to
stand behind Thompson and put her hand on his shoulder. She looked over at Doc
and smiled demurely. Well as demure as a woman with cum stains on her dress
might be. “Helloooo sir” she purred in a strange accent. Suddenly Doc
remembered. That was Russian. No Hungarian. “Hello Mrs. Melvin. Fancy meeting
you here.”
“Mrs. Melvin? Who the hell is that?” Marshall Hickok
chuckled. “This here is Big Nose Kate that Ben was telling you about young Mr.
Hardin.” “Pleased to make your acquaintance Ma’am” Hardin murmured politely as
he stared at his cards. The game required his concentration and he wasn’t going
to get sidetracked. There was time to fuck. Time to play cards. He liked
to do them one at a time.
Doc looked at the young woman’s face and saw the plea in her
eyes. “I must be mistaken Ma’am pardon me for my clumsiness. You remind me of
someone I knew back in Missouri. I beg your pardon for my confusion.” “Yes I am sorry but I do
not know you sir” she said in a soft Hungarian accent. “But I would like to.”
She smiled at him and walked away.
“Looks like she likes you Holliday” said Thompson. “Course
she likes most anybody with a dollar and a dick but still she seems to taken a
fancy to you. Maybe she has a bad tooth.”
Doc looked up from his cards and squinted at Thompson. The free
flowing tension in the air had seemed to turn its attention to him. He would play it smooth. No
need from trouble. He couldn’t shoot his landlord before he even moved in.
“That‘s possible Ben. Once I set up my office I will be able
to accommodate her. In whatever her needs may be.” “Can we play cards” snapped Hardin.
He had lost the last four hands and was getting increasingly out of sorts. “The
deal is to you Holliday.” “Yes it seems that it is” said Doc. He smoothly
gathered up the cards and started his shuffle. It might be a good idea to stack
the deck so the young gunman could win a hand or two. Otherwise it might come to a
cartridge affair when it need not.
There was a commotion at the bar. Two disreputable
patrons pushed each other. One of them reached out and grabbed Big Nose Kate's
breast and pulled it out of her dress. She hauled off and slugged him. Right in
the eye. He slugged her right back and knocked her to the floor and drew back
his leg to kick her. The other miscreant grabbed him to stop him and they
struggled against the bar.
All the players had risen from their seats. Thompson started to walk over
but Hickok put out his hand to stop him. “This is my play Ben” he said. He hustled over to interpose himself between the two drunks and the girl. Doc was right
behind him and helped the soiled dove to her feet. She was beside herself. So
much so that she didn’t notice that her teat was still outstanding. Although
most of the men in the bar noticed. They all thought it was outstanding.
“I told you before McCall that I wasn’t going to put up with
your shit. Abusing the whores is no way for a man to act. Let’s go I am taken’
you in.” “Fuck you Hickok she deserved it. She’s just a fuckin’ whore and whores
deserve what they get.” “McCall I can’t believe you would talk such. What would
your mother say?” “Why would she care?” “Why she would be upset that you were
denigrating her profession.”
McCall was dumb so it took him a minute to understand the
insult. Being as he was also stupid he decided to go for his gun. Unfortunately
for him his piece was a dog leg pistol as big as a horses cock. He kept it in his belt because it made him feel like a big man. He took the gigantic
single action gat out and brought it up so slowly you could time it with a sundial. When he had it half way up Hickok palmed his left hand
Colt and shot him dead.
“Damn it Hickok why did you have to kill the dummy” said
Phil Coe who had rushed out of the office when he heard the shot. "You can't go shooting my custom." “He had it
coming Phil” said Thompson. “He was abusing the whores and he drew first. The
Marshal saved me the trouble.” “No trouble Ben. Stepping on a bug. That’s my
job.”
Deputy Williams burst in through the doors leveling a
shotgun at the crowd. “Calm down Mike all the festivities are over. Get a
couple of these fellas and take McCall down to corpse tenders. Gentlemen I
guess we will call it a night. I reckon a killing always puts a damper on an
evening.”
The players all agreed and took their money from the table.
Hickok nodded at them and walked away. Hardin and Holliday watched him as he
strode away.
“Damn he was fast” said Hardin. He shook his head with a sense of admiration and not a little envy. “He did that right slick.
Couldn’t have done any better my ownself.” “Something to think about John
Wesley” said Doc. “Something to consider when somebody is pushing you into
something you might not be planning to do.” Hardin gave Doc the side eye. “You
caught that too. Ben seems to think he can get me to draw on Hickok. It ain’t
gonna happen. Not in this life. Why look for trouble when there is no need. Besides it looks like Coe is first in line.” “He might be at that”
said Hickok. “Goodnight John Wesley.” “Same to you John. I think I will have a
last drink and make the acquaintance of one these fine ladies. The night is
young.”
As Doc walked toward the door he glanced over to Kate. She
had repaired her dress and looked at him. She nodded. Barely. Doc winked at her and
headed out into the night. Tomorrow would be a busy day.
He might even have to pull a tooth.
13 comments:
I love Westerns. I always have. The problem seems to lie in the language. You don't want to repeat clichéd phrases but some clichés just lend themselves to the action.
Plus a point that Dust Bunny Queen made is very important. I need to make each character talk in his own voice. I think that was a big problem with Robert Parkers Westerns. It was too homogenized.
Just realize that these snippets are just the first pass at the story. It has to be fleshed out.
Maybe not as nicely fleshed as Big Nose Kate but fleshed out just the same.
Constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated.
FWIW, I was wondering who assisted the lass in getting her boob back in place. A couple of paragraphs on that event might flavor the story a bit.
Hah.
What did you think of the photo?
That is how I always thought that Big Nose Kate would look.
I like it. Can't find out who the model is. Any references I turned up cited the photographer (who used a Nikon to shoot her, btw). The pics of the real Big Nose Kate look about like you'd expect from that era and environment...rough and homely. Anyhow, the pic you used definitely coincides with the feel of the text.
I love it when I can feel my text.
I am not a reader of Westerns or fiction. But, like your Doc stuff. Lord knows I am not averse to criticizing. But, there are many folks more worthy than I in that dept.
I'm not a western fiction guy, but it's entertaining, and that's the point of the arts.
I love it when I can feel my text.
I'll never use the phrase "text me" again.
Kill your darlings, Troop.
That's the thing. I am following the history of the West in several important ways but with a twist. Sort of in a John Ford way. It is not exactly correct. A real Western historian would lose his shit. But if I changed it too much it would be silly. I can't have Doc Holliday kill Wild Bill Hickok.
Even John Ford wouldn't do that.
However you may see some darlings fall in the Joey Gallo series.
Takin', not taken'.
Horse's, not horses.
Customers, not customs.
As you were.
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