Doc Holliday Must Die

Doc walked down Main St. to the edge of town. It was shady toward twilight on the dusty streets. They needed some rain soon to cool down the town. Doc wanted to see if he could make a little rain himself by improving his circumstances.

He heard the sound of the hammer banging the anvil from several doors away. He turned into the doorway and stepped back involuntarily. The Smith was hammering metal bar into the traditional horse shoe shape. Sparks flew as the metal was shaped by repeated blows wielded by the heavily perspiring workman.  He had heated it just hot enough to shape it. It was a skill that not everyone could master. He was a craftsman not just a smith. Just the fellow he needed to see. Doc stepped back into the doorway and waited quietly until he could get his attention.

Finally the Smith looked up and saw Doc standing there. He took the completed red hot shoe and dropped it into a bucket of water that steamed and heaved as the remaining heat was drained out of the beaten metal. He looked at Doc and said “What can I do for you Mister?” “Whatever it is it can wait a spell until he finishes shoeing my pony” said a voice from a shadowy figure leaning against a post on the left side of the smithy that was obscured by the darkness of the late afternoon. The figure leaned forward into the light. Mystery solved. It was Wild Bill.

“Not a problem for me Marshal” Doc said. “I just wanted to talk to Mr. Brown about making me a chair.”

“A chair? Why come to me to make a chair? You'll do better with the cooper. He works more with wood” said Brownie the Smith. “That’s the point partner. I am a dentist and I go through wooden chairs like shit through a goose. So I thought I might see if you could something with iron. I have some thoughts that I sketched out for you to look at Mr. Brown. Once you are finished with the Marshal to be sure.” 

Wild Bill pushed his hat back on his head. He had lost some of his hair to the point that his forelock might be termed an aftlock. Not that anyone would mention it to his face. “Well that sounds a sight more interesting than shoeing my horse. Let’s take a look John. I would be interested in seeing my own self.”

Doc brought out his notes and showed his conception. It was based on some of the chairs he had worked with in dental school. The frame itself was metal. A strong metal that even the power of pain that sprung from a moose like Deputy Williams could not shatter. It had an adjustable recline that the he could use to fit the various bodies that came in to get a tooth pulled. Both the Smith and Marshal were engrossed and an hour flew by before they knew it.  

“I think I know what you want Holliday. It should not be a problem. Give me a couple of days to get working on it and I will show you what I can do” said Brown. “Couldn’t ask for more than that.” The sun was just about ready to set as Holliday and Hickok walked out into the street.

“That was purely fascinating John. I never knew that a dentist chair could have so many moving parts. I reckon I am going over to the Chinks for dinner. Perhaps you might be peaked and would care to join me.” “Sure enough Marshal that would be mighty fine.” 

Holliday and Hickok walked to dining establishment at the edge of what was a small section of town where the Chinese could be found. They had come in with the railroad which was strange since most of the Chinese that worked on the railroad came from the Pacific coast. When they finally drove the golden spike that united the coasts the Chinese workers burst forth in a diaspora that left the detritus in many small towns throughout the West. Especially in trail end towns like Abilene.  

Wang’s was a small café where the food made up for the filth. Hickok sat with his back to the wall as was his custom. Halliday sat across from him. They ordered the staple of the house. Chicken and biscuits with fried potatoes. What made Wang’s different is the spices that permeated the food. What that spice might be was the subject of some debate. Some said it was some exotic Chinese spice. Others thought it was just that the Chink did not wash his hands. Whatever it was it brought custom back. So it worked. 

Doc chewed thoughtfully and looked at the Marshal. He figured he might take a chance. “I be pondering on something Marshal that I am sure you know. Young Hardin is being pushed into something he doesn’t want to do by Thompson. It is as clear as day.” “That it is John but you don’t need to fret. I think young John Wesley is a very smart young man. He ain’t gonna be no sacrificial lamb to save Phil Coe’s bacon. He just has to sit and wait. The thing will resolve itself soon enough. Sure enough. You could pass that on if want. Just so it don’t come from me.” “Fair enough Marshall.” “Names Bill to my friends. I reckon I would like to count you among them John.” “Be honored to do so Bill.” 

“I didn’t know there was so much to being a dentist John. I mean a new chair and all. I imagine you will have a lot of patients when they hear you are handing out bottles of laudanum with each tooth pulled. That seems like a good deal to me” the Marshal said with a grin. “That might be a problem Bill. Not only could I not afford that transaction but where would I get the supply? I might have to send off to Chicago and who knows how long that might take?” “Well pain can be a powerful inducement. But laudanum might not be the only arrow in you quiver son. I might have an idea for you.”  

Wild Bill looked for the proprietor and he did not spy him in the restaurant. “WANG YOU IGNORANT PISSANT CHINAMAN COME OUT HERE!” Wang came bustling out from behind the blanket that hid the kitchen from the dining area. He bowed to the Marshal. Wang was as good as a mute. He never spoke but seemed to understand English especially if they were salted with curses. “Set me and my friend up with a couple of pipes. Pronto or I cut off that pigtail and feed it to my dog.” Wang bowed and went back behind the blanket.

“Come along with me” said Wild Bill after ten minutes had passed. He walked through the back door of the establishment. Holliday followed warily into an alley that was redolent of the odors of the Oriental. Wash hung from the windows and ropes hung between the dilapidated dwellings that seemed bursting at the scenes with people that Holliday did not even know existed in this town. It seemed a mystery. It was cleared up soon enough.

 

Hickok walked to a door in a building listing across the street and entered. Doc followed. In the dim lamplight he saw a row of what looked like bedrolls. In front of two of them young Chinese women stood with their heads bowed holding a long pipe. A dollop of opium in their other hand. They were naked.