Ghost Town
by Rob Warr
Chapter 4
"No, no no," Dickie wailed, tears running down his face, "I don't wanna see this."
"Dickie..." Will said, taking his little brother in his arms and holding his face to his chest, "don't look. Just stay here with me, okay?"
"O...o...kay," Dickie blubbered.
"Look guys, I know this is bad, but remember it's just like a movie, it's not real?"
"But you said it was real...just not in this time, right? So, that means whatever happens to these two boys really happened, only a long time ago, right?"
"I don't know, I could be wrong. This could just be mass hallucination or something," Doug said frowning, his eyes anywhere but on the two boys and the two cowboys and their standoff on opposite sides of the big brass bed.
"So...what's it gonna be, boys?" Knife, gun, or rope?'
"We'll fight," Malachi said doubling up his fists. We won't die quiet. We may be queer, but we ain't soft. We might even take one of you with us."
"Yeah," Evan said stepping out from behind Malachi, his face contorted with anger and hate now.
Wow, what a change, Doug thought. From cornered animals to tigers ready to pounce.
"Look boys..." Carl said sounding tired, "we all know you ain't gonna do too well against us. We got weapons, and you got...nothing 'cept your puny peckers," he laughed, and the other cowboy, Jack, acted as if that was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.
"Yeah, gonna stick us up with your pricks," Jack laughed, then turning mean again he said, "we don't like peckers, we like pussy, so unless you got a pussy, we ain't interested."
Doug frowned, it almost sounded like the cowboy was asking for some sexual favor. Was this heading in another direction? he wondered.
"You know, it's been awhile since we emptied our balls, boys," Carl said, glancing at his partner and giving him a wink, "we don't like peckers, but we sure do like nice tight holes. You boys probably got some really tight ones, don't ya?"
"What are you talking about?" Malachi asked nervously.
"Come on, boy, you know what cornholing is?" Carl said grinning lewdly, the tent in his worn denim jeans obvious now.
Malachi suddenly seemed to be aware of the man's arousal and he backed up a bit, "We ain't lettin' you...do that. We'll die first, right Evan."
Evan was quiet, no doubt weighing their options, if giving up their asses would save their lives, then it might be worth it, but...what if they decided to kill them anyway? Was it a risk they should take, or try fighting and hope someone below heard them and came to their rescue? Whatever happened, however, was already preordained, and as Doug had predicted these were just shadows and echoes from the past.
"It'll be over quick, we ain't come in a while and we're horny as two billy goats," Carl said soothingly, "and when our balls are drained, we'll button up and leave, and you boys can go back to...whatever you was a doin'," he chuckled as he grabbed himself through his jeans and thrust his crotch out, "you'll like it, it's long and narrow, won't hurt too much."
"How do we know you'll let us go...afterwards?" Evan asked, his face flushed as sweat ran down his smooth cheeks.
"Cause we're men of our word. That's about the only thing a man has these days, his word. And ifn' he goes back on his word, he ain't nothing but a liar and people won't deal with him no more. I reckon, my word is about the only thing I got left," he added, sounding a little sad.
"And what about, him, is his word good too?" Evan asked of the other cowboy.
"Jack does what I tell him to do," Carl said nodding.
"Can't he speak for himself?"
"If Carl says you can go, then you can go. I ain't a caring one way or another, long as I get to bury my meat in some tight holes."
"Holes?" Malachi said in fear.
"Sure, you don't think I'm gonna pass up having two holes to pound, do ya?" he chuckled.
"One'll be fine with me. You," Carl said pointing to Malachi, the feisty one, I want your hole. But first you can do what you was a doin' to your friend there."
"How are we bad for doin' this stuff when you is a wantin' to do it too?" Malachi spat out.
"Cause we ain't in love with your sorry asses, we just want to feel good," Jack said, but it was evident he had been taken aback by the question.
"Maybe we was a little hard on you boys," Carl said soothingly, "let's just do this and we can all go about our business."
"Strip," Malachi said boldly, causing Evan to stare at him as if he'd lost his mind.
"What? Anxious to see what a real man looks like, ain't ya?" Carl chuckled.
"Sure, show me. Both of you, strip. We're naked, and you should be too."
Carl shrugged, "Fine by me, I ain't ashamed of my body," he chuckled as he first removed his gun belt, then his shirt.
Jack waited till his friend had his shirt off before he started undressing, but they were soon down to their long johns, the last garment they wore. Meanwhile, Doug and company had moved to the door, hoping without much confidence that the door would magically unlock itself now that the crisis had seemingly passed.
"All of it," Malachi commanded, and surprisingly the two rough and tough cowboys obeyed.
Their manhood stood straight and proud, nestled in an unruly patch of dark fur, with two pendulous balls hanging beneath. Carl had a little hair on his chest, but not nearly as much as Jack, who was covered from neck to crotch with thick dark hair. Even his back was hairy, and all of the boys, past and present were a bit repulsed by his ape-like covering.
Their penises were average as far as men went, about six inches long, but Jack's was notably thicker than Carl's. Both were uncut, and Doug couldn't help but wonder if they were clean down there. After all, baths were rare back then, a dip in the creek being the closes thing to bathing most men endured.
"You got any grease?" Jack asked, reaching down to scratch his huge balls.
"Nah," Malachi said, his eyes darting to the pile of discarded clothing on the floor, including the cowboy's gun belt, his shiny Colt 45 with a pearl handle beckoning to him.
Malachi was afraid the cowboys might notice where his eyes had been so he brought them up to their crotches and pretended to be interested in the throbbing appendages presented for his inspection.
"You ever see peckers as big as ours?" Jack chuckled.
Evan was about to say that both of them were bigger, when hard, but he figured pissing off the cowboy by making fun of his manhood was not a good move at this point.
"Pretty big," Malachi said quickly, pretending to be interested as he came from around the bed, his eyes riveted on Carl's cock, all the while keeping the cowboy's gun in his peripheral vision. It would be risky, but what did they have to lose? He doubted Carl or Jack were very good at keeping their word, and once they'd been fucked, Malachi figured they were as good as dead.
Pretending to trip, Malachi went down on one knee then, and reaching out he grabbed onto Carl's waist and brought his face to within inches of the man's hard throbbing member. As he'd feared, the man's hygiene was lacking, but the smell was tolerable, and he was committed to his plan at this point.
"Oh, boy...anxious to get it in your mouth, huh?" the cowboy chuckled as he threw his head back.
Meanwhile, Jack had crossed the space to the other side of the bed and was rubbing a hand up and down Evan's back, then down to his rump, which he patted and pinched with his large dirty hand. Evan felt like puking, but he felt helpless to say or do anything. Anyway, he was sure Malachi had a plan and he didn't want to interfere with it in anyway by making waves.
Malachi had a plan all right, and so far things seemed to be going in his favor. Closing his eyes and hoping he didn't gag, he grabbed Carl's stiff prick and pulled the foreskin back, revealing more unpleasant smells, but fortunately Malachi was able to control his need to retch.
"Aww, yess, boy," Carl hissed, "suck that pecker. Lick those balls..." then throwing back his head he closed his eyes and waited for the boy to begin giving him pleasure.
From there things moved along mighty fast.
Doug, Will, Jamie, and even Dickie were willingly watching the scenario play out now, however, Doug was the only one who thought he knew where things were heading. It was if he'd been given some foresight into what was about to happen, and he held his breath waiting for the finale to this little drama to play out.
Taking the man's cock into his mouth, Malachi bobbed up and down on it a few times to lure Carl into a false sense of security, then he made his move. Biting down as hard as he could and nearly taking Carl's pecker off with his powerful jaws, things went to hell fast, or Heaven, depending on which side you were on.
Carl screamed, reaching down to push Malachi off of his bleeding pecker, but Malachi was already on the move. Sliding sideways he came up next to the pile of clothes and reached for the gun belt even as Carl was trying to staunch the flow of blood from his pecker.
Jack seemed frozen in place, but Evan was moving away from him even as Malachi suddenly stood, gun in hand and pointed it at the other cowboy.
"Say your prayers, cowboy," Malachi said before he fired two shot straight into the man's chest.
A look of surprise came across the man's face as he reached out as if to ask for help, then he crumpled to the floor, dead on arrival.
"We weren't gonna hurt ya," Carl cried, "you bit my pecker near off and you killed Jack, you're the evil ones, not us."
"Shut up, you're next," Malachi said, his face a mask of hate and revenge, and yes...dare we say it, evil.
"Mal...don't..." but then two gunshots rang out and Carl fell to the floor, dead, his still dangling member in his hand.
"There, they'll never hurt us again..." Malachi said, his face seeming to return to normal now.
"Did you have to...to kill them?" Evan said, looking confused and frightened.
"They were gonna kill us. It was kill or be killed..."
Suddenly, there were noises and voices in the hall, then a loud boom as the door was kicked open, forcing the four boys to scamper out of the way as they watched two men with badges burst into the room. Behind them the saloon gal from earlier peeked in the door, took one look at the situation and turned her attention to the four boys from the future.
"Sorry you had to see that, boys," she said grinning, not looking sorry at all, in fact she seemed to be enjoying their reaction to the carnage.
"You boys have gone too far this time," one of the men said then, "you're under arrest for murder, both of you. For God's sake get dressed though, I ain't taking you to jail naked as a jaybird."
"You two are gonna hang," the other man said, "mark my word. The people of this town have put up with enough of your sickness, now you're gonna pay."
"But they were going to kill us..." Evan pleaded.
"Save it for the judge," the first man said, "get dressed and let's go."
When the two men, the Sheriff and his deputy, had left with the two teens, the saloon gal remained behind.
"What's gonna happen to them?" Jamie asked looking ready to cry.
"Oh, they'll be hanged for sure," she snickered.
"But that was a long time ago, right?" Doug said, but not waiting for an answer he continued, "how come you can see us, but no one else can?"
"She smiled, "Some things ain't got no explainin', they just is. You boys got more to see though. I suggest you try the General Store next, might find some answers there," she said mysteriously.
The boys turned to go then, but suddenly Doug turned back to ask her one last question, only to find she had disappeared.
"Shit," Doug said, causing the others to look back as well.
"Where'd she...go?" Will stammered.
"Back to Hell for all we know," Doug joked, then with a sigh, he said, "let's go. I think we've seen enough for one night."
"Now you're making sense," Will said as he patted his best bud on the shoulder, "the sooner we're out of here, the better."
There was no one in the saloon below, and the pale moon peeking through the windows gave the place a spooky look that sent chills up and down the boys' spines. Hurrying out to the street, they headed toward the Jeep and quickly climbed in.
Doug, the last to buckle up, stuck the key in the ignition and turned it to the right. Nothing. He tried again, though he already knew it was useless to do so. Nothing. The battery had been fully charged and was nearly new. The problem wasn't electrical or mechanical, they were being kept here by some unseen force, and they weren't going anywhere till whoever or whatever decided to let them go. They all knew it, and maybe that's why there was no discussion as they piled out of the Jeep and obediently headed toward the General Store.
Gideon's General Store
The Sign was still attached to the front of the store, and surprisingly all the window glass still remained in the mullioned windows. A dusty display of equestrian accessories, including a saddle, could be seen through the dusty panes on the right side, while the other was empty except for a few discarded items including a package of bluing. None of the boys had any idea what bluing was, but they supposed it had something to do with laundry from the drawing on the package.
The front door was solid below with four panes above, separated by mullions, their paint flaking badly, but still solid enough to hold the panes in place. A hand written sign hung haphazardly on the other side of the window, it's letters faded but still legible. Closed, it read.
"Shall we?" Doug said walking up to the door and peering inside through the door glass.
"I don't think we have any choice," Will sighed as his flashlight beam joined Doug's to illuminate the interior of the store.
"I wonder," Jamie said bumping up against his big brother, "if there are ghosts in here too. That was wicked crazy what happened in the saloon. That boy bit that guy's dick almost off, then shot him. I...never seen anything like that before, not even in the movies."
"I hope not," Doug said, you're not supposed to be watching anything but PG and PG-13," he chuckled, trying to hide his own feelings about what they'd just witnessed.
"It was a long time ago, though, right?" Dickie asked as he placed a hand on Will's back.
"Yeah, but I guess it really happened at some point."
"And...and those cute boys got hanged," Jamie said, saying the words no one else dared speak.
Doug smiled to himself when he thought about Jamie calling the boys cute. Though they'd all messed around with each other many times, there had never really been any feelings involved, well, except for the feelings of getting off. Now it seemed as if Jamie might be thinking about boys in a different light. That was fine with Doug, however. In fact, lately he'd started to get some tender feelings for his best friend, Will, and though he hadn't expressed them as of yet, he was pretty sure Will would be receptive to being more than just sex buddies.
As Doug pushed open the door, he was surprised that this time there didn't seem to be any oppressive coldness. In fact, the doorknob was a bit warm, with a layer of dust covering it, forcing him to wipe his hand on his jeans. The floor inside was a bit warped in places but seemed solid enough, and as they walked, dust was stirred up, causing the air to become murky after a while.
Surprisingly there was still a lot of merchandise in the store. Though not fully stocked, the shelves still held canned goods, boxed items, and in one section of the store there were shelves of jeans and shirts, boots and hats, and a rack with belts hanging on it.
"Why hasn't anyone taken this stuff?" Doug asked to no one in general, "it's gotta be antique or something."
"Maybe...maybe it's like the people we've seen so far, maybe it's not really here...I mean, not now, but like you said, just in the past," Will offered.
"If that's true, does that mean we're in the past, or that we're just seeing the past?" Jamie wondered, looking serious.
"If we were in the past, I think things would look much different," Doug reasoned, "not all dusty and worn out. No, I think we're just getting glimpses of what was once here."
"But...why did that lady want us to come here?" Dickie asked looking around, then his eyes focused on something on the counter by an ancient cash register and he headed that way.
"What did you find?" Will asked as he watched his little brother pick up what looked like a newspaper and shake the dust off of it.
"Holy shit, guys...look at this..." he said excitedly as he rushed over to them.
It was indeed a newspaper.
Western Gillette~August 1889: was the banner across the top, and the headline read: Jackson brothers hung for the murder of Carl Wells and Jack Foster. What was worse, however, was the drawing that accompanied the article showing two bodies dangling at the ends of their ropes while a crowd gathered around, apparently cheering.
"Let me see it," Doug said taking the paper from Dickie and expecting it to turn to dust at any moment, fortunately it did not.
This reporter is happy to say that on October 31st those infamous and evil Jackson brothers were finally made to pay for their sins and for their crimes. The townsfolk had long known that the two brothers were engaging in sodomy and other carnal acts, sins against mankind and the Lord, and though many had tried to hold them accountable for their sickness, all had failed.
Local brothers hanged for murder
On that particular day that their last crime took place, two fine men, Carl Wells and Jack Foster, both of the Crooked T Ranch, had confronted the two brothers in a room at the Branch Water Saloon, and then having been lured into committing lustful acts themselves, no doubt forced to do so by the devil himself, one of the brothers, Malachi, wrestled the gun away from Carl Wells and shot the two fine men dead, but not before defiling Carl Wells by biting his manhood nearly off.
A trial was held, and a jury of 12 fine men found the two brothers guilty, not only of the murder of these two fine men, but also of being of the devil and practicing sinful behavior that would surely earn them a place in hell.
The honorable Judge Canton G. Mathews read the verdict, then immediately sentenced the two brothers to be hanged by the neck until dead. The hanging to be carried out in two days time.
This reporter interviewed the prisoners, who, as they had from the beginning, claimed they had only killed in self defense, and that the two men had attacked them first. Witnesses in the Branch Water Saloon told a different story and said the two brothers were always causing trouble and were vicious hardened sinners and cold-blooded killers.
At the hanging, both boys still claimed their innocence, even as the crowd chanted, Hang Them, Hang Them. Then as this reporter watched, an evil presence seemed to take possession of the boys and their countenance changed. Gone were the faces of two youths, and replacing them were masks of evil and pain with glowing red eyes.
A hateful barrage of sinful and spiteful curse words filled the air then, words too indelicate for this publication. The sky, which had been clear before, suddenly turned dark and thunder cracked overhead as lightening streaked across the sky.
Then speaking as if one person, the two Jackson brothers uttered these words, "We will be avenged, and every person of this dreadful town shall feel our wrath."
A crack of thunder and a bolt of lightening caused the crowd to become uneasy, then someone began to hurl stones at the two, and the cry of 'Hang Them, Hang Them', began again. With a nod from the sheriff, the levers were pulled, dropping the floor from beneath the two and they fell, their feet jerking as they hung there dying, but it was some minutes before they stopped moving, death finally claiming them. Then as the crowd watched, their mood turning somber now, the rain began.
T. Walton, Editor in Chief - Publisher and Reporter at large.
"Holy shit," Jamie said then, "that sounds like something right out of a movie or something."
"That was crazy the way the thunder and lightening came," Dickie said looking wide-eyed and excited, despite being a little scared, "do you think the devil really did take them over?"
"I don't know if it was the devil or not, but it seems pretty obvious there was something going on with them. I mean, they basically said everyone in the town was going to pay for their deaths. I wonder..." Doug said thoughtfully.
"What?" Will said.
"I wonder if...that's why the town dried up and blew away, so to speak."
"I wish we had some way to find out what happened after the two boys were hanged," Will said.
"Brothers," Jamie said, sounding as if the relationship between Malachi and Evan was just now sinking in, "they were brothers. I thought they were just...you know...lovers and stuff."
"It wasn't unusual back then for brothers to mess around, I guess," Doug said, "I mean, they're together a lot and stuff..."
"That would be like me and you messing around," Jamie laughed, a cheeky grin filling his face.
Doug blushed, everyone knew the two had messed around some, though nothing like the two brothers in the Saloon, but Doug was still embarrassed. What was Jamie saying, that he wouldn't mind doing more?
"We're all sinners and perverts according to these folks," Dickie giggled, "but did you see how fast those two cowboys were willing to do sex stuff with the brothers."
"That's called hypocrisy," Will chuckled, "lots of hypocrites in the world, then and now..."
"So, I wonder if this was all we were supposed to do here...in the store," Doug wondered, as he looked around.
Suddenly, as if his question had been the catalyst for what came next, things began to change. No longer were the shelves half-filled, the floor dusty and warped, and instead the store now appeared as it must've back then, in 1889.
Suddenly, as if by magic a man appeared behind the counter and one by one several patrons popped into the scene, causing the four boys to jump with surprise.
"Ah, Mrs. Wilkins, what may I do for you today?" The man behind the counter asked a middle-aged woman, who was wearing a dress that seemed to have an umbrella beneath it, causing it to fan out all around her. She appeared to be wearing a bustle as well, causing her middle to bulge out some, hiding her true figure from peering eyes.
"A pound of sugar, a pound of flour, and this spool of white thread," she said laying the thread upon the counter while the man went about sacking and weighing her other purchases.
"There you go," the man said when he turned around, then ringing up the sale, he glanced across the counter at the woman and frowned, "I heard about Jed's accident, he doin' any better?'
The woman sighed, then shook her head, "I'm afraid he's given up, Mr. Gideon, "if it weren't for our boys the farm would have gone by the wayside by now. As it is, we can barely keep our heads above water."
"Well, give him my best," the man said as he handed the woman her change, three pennies.
"I will be sure to, and thank you, Mr. Gideon, for asking."
About then a boy of about ten or so ran in, his long blond hair flowing all around his cherubic face. He screeched to a halt before the woman and gave her a cheeky grin, "Can I have some hard candy, momma, just a penny's worth, please, please?"
The woman smiled, "How can I resist those puppy dog eyes of yours?" the woman said smiling for the first time since she'd appeared, then handing him the three pennies she'd gotten as change she said, "get some for Billy and Tom too, and when you're done, grab my flour and sugar and bring them to the wagon."
The woman left, and the four watched the boy with interest as he studied the jars holding their sweet delights.
"I bet you're a big help for your momma, Caleb," the storekeeper said then, "since your daddy took sick."
The boy looked up and frowned, "Was that curse from those two Jackson brothers what caused daddy to do that. Ever since they cursed the town, folks been dropping like flies and some movin' away."
"You don't really believe that, do you son?" the man said, but there didn't seem to be any starch in his voice.
"Sure do. I can't help but wonder..." the boy said looking around to make sure no one was within hearing distance, "if they was really of the devil, or...ifn' they was tellin the truth and just got done wrong by those folks."
"That's a mighty dangerous thing to say," the man scolded, "I wouldn't go around sayin' things like that, was I you."
"I know, sir, that was strictly 'tween us two," the boy said grinning, and the man grinned back, as if they shared some common secret other than the one the boy had just created.
"The boy finally made his selections and placed them in a paper bag that Mr Gideon had given him, but when he offered up his three pennies the man just pushed his hand away and closed it with the pennies inside. He held the boy's hand for a moment and smiled down at him, "that's okay, Caleb, you keep those pennies for next time, this time it's on me."
"Thanks, Mr. Gideon," the boy said smiling back, "I ain't got time right now, but maybe sometime I could come back and...help you in the back, like that one time," the boy said, and the four future boys couldn't help but notice that the boy was blushing.
"Did you like it...helping me that way?" the man said smiling almost lewdly now.
"Uh huh, it was fun," the boy said chomping down on a lemon drop.
"Anytime, son, anytime," the man said with a wink.
The boy grabbed up his mother's purchases then and headed out the door, and the four couldn't help but notice that the man was staring at the boy's behind, which was quite pronounced in his worn out overalls, which appeared to be a size or two too small.
"Wow, was that guy perving on that kid?" Will whispered, though he doubted the man could hear them.
"How much for the saddle in the window?" a voice suddenly boomed from behind them, causing them to turn just in time to see a tan, red-haired cowboy, complete with boots, spurs, and holster and six gun.
"Hmm...twenty, but before you say anything, that there saddle was hand made by a Mexican fellow, and they do the best work. Saddle like that'd cost ya twice that in the big city stores."
"Then why you selling it so cheap?" the cowboy chuckled, but he didn't wait for an answer, "I'll take it, and I'm gonna need a grub stake, beans, dried meat...you know, the works...oh, and a skillet and matches."
"Goin' on a trip?" Mr. Gideon asked as he pulled the order together, obviously pleased at the large sale he was about to make.
"Yeah, anywhere 'cept this hell hole of a town. Ever since them two boys got themselves hung, this town's been a festerin' like a sore. Folks dyin' or moving away, babies bein' stillborn, women goin' mad cause of it."
"Those are just rumors," the storekeeper scoffed, "do you actually know anyone who had that happen to them?"
The cowboy looked up then, and a sneer came across his face, "You ever knowed a man named Jenkins, Elmer Jenkins?'
"Can't say that I did, was he local?"
"He was my daddy, and one day he just up and hanged himself in the barn, leaving my momma and two sisters to fend for themselves. I did the best I could, but I had a job on the Crooked T, and eventually it got to be too much for me.
One day I come home after working all night at the ranch and found my momma and two sisters hangin' in the barn just like daddy."
"I heard about that, but I didn't know their names, till now," the storekeeper said nervously as he paused for a moment, "So, that's why you're leavin'?"
"Wouldn't you?" Nothing here worth dyin' for, that's for sure. I plan on goin' to Texas, I hear them cattle ranches down there is always lookin' for hands."
"What about the farm, what happened to that?"
The cowboy laughed sadly, "Bank foreclosed on it, wasn't nothing I could do about that. Daddy had borrowed money for the seed for that year's crop then he went and hanged himself and left most of it to rot in the ground."
"I'm sorry," Mr. Gideon said kindly as he began to gather up the needed items.
"No need to be sorry, wudn't your fault, was the curse, that's what it was."
"So, the curse did come true," Doug whispered to his group, "and that's probably why the town became a ghost town."
"That cowboy, he said he worked on the same ranch as the two that got killed. I wonder if he knew them personally," Will noted.
"Could be, maybe he knew them better than the townsfolk and maybe he suspects that they weren't as innocent as the people made them out to be."
"Good point," Will conceded.
They watched as the cowboy finished his business, paying with bills and coins, then grabbing up the supplies and stuffing them in his saddle bags.
"I'll be back for the saddle, gotta get my horse from the livery stable, had to get some new shoes for her."
When the cowboy was gone, the four waited for quite sometime before the next specter appeared. This time it was a man they recognized, the Sheriff, and he looked frazzled and a bit dazed.
"I tell you Ike, this town is goin' to hell, hell! I tell ya!" two more deaths today, Old man Snyder and Missy Willis, both just up and died, no sickness, nothin' to show what caused it. Doc says it's beyond him, but that he don't think it's a disease, at least not one of the body."
"What do you mean? Not of the body?"
"He says it might be in their mind. Them thinkin' that they're cursed and all, even if we all know that's nonsense."
"Is it?" Ike Gideon said straight-faced, "I'm startin' to wonder. Now then, did you just come over to give me more bad news, or did you need somethin', Sheriff?"
"Tobaccy," the sheriff said digging some coins out of his pocket and some matches, "I'm gonna hit the saloon and do me some drinkin' and smokin'. I deserve it after what's been happenin' around here."
"Folks need to see you being strong and a leader, Eugene," Mr. Gideon said, addressing the Sheriff by his given name, "ain't good to have them seein' you drunk and actin' all crazy like."
"I don't care anymore. If I had my right mind I'd leave this one-horsed town and go back to Wichita, my folks still got a nice spread there."
"Sure, run off," Mr. Gideon fumed, "start this horse shit and then walk away. I wonder, Eugene, did you do a good job of investigatin' what really happened that day, or did you just assume, like all the other folks in this town, that them boys was guilty?"
"You questionin' how I do my job, Ike?" the Sheriff said looking angry now.
"I'm a tax payer, and I pay your salary, so I got a right," Ike said boldly.
The Sheriff seemed to melt then, "I'll be in the saloon ifn' anyone needs me," and then he left quickly.
"So, even the sheriff is worried about the curse," Doug mused.
"Why don't you boys go on down to the bank now," Ike Gideon, proprietor and owner of Gideon's General Store, suddenly said to the boys.
Surprised and nearly jumping out of their pants, the boys turned to stare questioningly at the man, who just smiled, "Nothing more to see here, boys, move on, I have work to do."
"Thanks, I think," Doug muttered as he led the way to the door, then turning just before he reached it, he asked the question that had been on his mind for a while now, "so...you and Caleb, huh?"
The man stared stonily at Doug, then turned away as if he could no longer see the four boys. Then slowly he began to fade away, as did the rest of the store until all that was left was what the boys had seen when they'd first entered.
"Wow, ghosts..." Jamie exclaimed in awe, "they sure are tricky."
"Come on, hopefully the bank will be our last stop," Doug said.
"Don't say that, you make it sound like we're gonna die there," Will said with a shiver.
"Sorry, I meant, hopefully after that we can go home."
"Home, boy does that sound good. Speaking of home...I hope our folks aren't too worried."
"What time is it, anyway?"
Will looked at his watch, "Uh, this can't be right, it says 9 o'clock, that was about the time we pulled in here. It must've stopped," he said shaking his wrist, "weird though, the second hand is still going, but check this out, its' moving super slow..."
"Maybe time has slowed down or something," Jamie offered, "happens all the time in the movies."
Doug shrugged, "At this point, I'd believe anything," and with that he led the trio out the door and into the street.
Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.
[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]
* Some browsers may require a right click instead
