Paradise Sky

“I’m going to take your horse and ride it,” Weasel said, “and I ain’t going to feed it, just ride it, and then when it falls over, I’m going to cut its heart out and eat it.”

“Damn wasteful of a good horse,” one of the men in the crowd said, for now they had all gathered around me to watch what was being done.

“Yeah,” Weasel said. “You’re right. I’ll feed it and keep it and sell it later.”

“He ain’t nothing but muscle,” said the young boy, looking down on me.

“Good,” Ruggert said. “That means he’ll last a long time.”

They bound me with wet rope, which they had made that way by all them taking turns pissing on it, then they wrapped me firm in that bloody, stinking skin with only my head poking out and dragged me away from the wagon so there wouldn’t be any shade. They propped my head up with a rock so it was facing where the sun would come up. Next they unstrapped one of our water barrels off the side of the wagon, brought it over, and poured it on the skin and on my face, which at that moment was kind of refreshing but would soon be anything but.

Ruggert bent down and stared into my eyes. “To make the time pass, let me tell you what I’m going to do. I made a lot of money placer mining, had me a good run, only good one I ever had in my whole life, and now I’ve spent near every dime to hire these men, and after this moment, I am done with the coins. I am going to give the wagon and those women to the men, if anyone should want the old woman. And there will be at least one. There are those here who would do her and the cow that is still standing and maybe the dead one. Do it at high noon on a city street and be proud of it.”

“You best hope I die,” I said. “I’ve had chances to kill you and didn’t. That was a piss-poor mistake. I won’t repeat it again.”

“It was a mistake, Willie, but you ain’t going to have another chance. God is on my side. He protected me.”

“He wasn’t so good on watching out for you when it come to those Apache.”

What there was of Ruggert’s face twisted up.

“I don’t know why he made that choice, but I believe in the end the Indians will be conquered and butchered like the animals they are. And God is not on the side of your sort, either. On some sweet day the South will rise again, and the North will be overtaken and driven down to the ground to mingle with the dust, and things will be as they were before.”

I felt the burden of my foolishness, my napping while my enemy crept up on me, and it was as if that great sky I had gloried in that night on the trail sometime back had fallen and was lying smack dab on me.

The men cooked up the cow, using some dried buffalo chips they collected as well as the tailgate of the wagon, which they broke apart for firewood. They drank whiskey, ate some of that poor beast, mainly the sweetbreads and a haunch, and left the rest of it in the grass for the ants. Then they pulled Win and Madame, who was still knocked out, over to the side of the wagon. I will not describe what happened next, but will only say that Golem went first, and there was so much screaming I began to cry, which was an absolute delight for Ruggert.

It was near morning when the men loaded Win and Madame, naked and bloody from abuse but, thankfully, still alive, into the wagon and threw their clothes in after them. If Win had been dead, maybe I would have just gone on and died myself without there needing to be any sun to squeeze the life out of me inside that skin, but the fact they was alive gave me some hope.

Weasel saddled up Satan, who let him, much to my dislike, and then mounted with my rifle in the rifle sheath and my pistols stuck in his belt and coat pockets. He also had my money in the saddlebags, though he didn’t know it yet.

Two of the men took over the wagon, having hitched the mules back up and having tied their horses and the lone cow to the back of it. As they rumbled over the grass, heading toward the deeps of the Black Hills, I turned my head as much as I could and watched them and all those men on horseback go. Weasel, sitting on Satan comfortably, turned and looked back at me and gri

He and those men rode on, leaving only Ruggert and me.

So there we was. Stars was begi

“Seems to me,” Ruggert said, “this is going to be a hot day. You know, I think those women of yours might last until sundown. When the men get hungry and probably eat that cow, get full up, they’ll want their pleasures again. After that, they’ll want to split up, not having my money anymore to hold them together. At that point, I figure they’ll put the waste to that pretty little gal and that old lady. Though I was them, I’d keep that gal alive and in fair condition, take her down to Mexico and sell her. Down there they are always buying. Then again, they’d have to feed her, watch her, and so on, so maybe it’s best they just have their fun and end it for her. What do you think, Willie? That sound right to you? I am a little saddened that I didn’t take me a piece off the nigger gal, but the truth is, Willie, I can’t get it up. Not after what those Apaches done, and I blame you for that, Willie. You insulted me, and then you took my manhood.”

“I did nothing to you,” I said.

“I had a place in the world, and you upset it.”

I didn’t understand him at all, and so I said nothing. There was nothing left to say.

Ruggert looked at me and smiled. He shifted to one knee, picked up the rifle that lay on the ground beside him, and stood up. I saw he was looking off in the distance at something.

“I have to leave you near as satisfied as I can be. What the hide don’t do, others will.”

Then he was up and moving swiftly toward his horse. He rode away in a westerly direction. Slow at first, then a little faster, looking back over his shoulder at something behind me and beyond my sight.

Knowing that Ruggert had finally been in a place of enjoyment after all this time, I wondered what could scare him like that, but no matter what it was, I was glad for it. I didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of seeing me die.

It took some time before what had put the fear in Ruggert came up to scare me. It was horses, and on them horses was six Sioux warriors that I could see. They had come up behind me as silent as the rising of the sun. They was armed with bows and rifles that was fixed up with brass tacks driven into the stocks for decoration. A couple of them rifles was old muzzleloaders, and had I been them I’d have been afraid they’d blow up in my face.

I didn’t know how many more was behind me. They didn’t chase after Ruggert. Wasn’t no need in it. They had me. I was a bird in hand, not one in the bush.

Well, them near-naked savages sat there on their ponies eyeing me for some time, then there was movement behind me, and a fist grabbed my hair and picked up my head as far as it would go, that cowhide being tight around my neck. He was wearing a worn beaver top hat he’d probably bought at a trading post at one time, and the only other thing he had on was a frown, a loincloth, and a scabbard with a big knife in it. He gave out with a little yip, pulled the knife, and put it to my forehead. I was going to be scalped alive. But as the blade pricked my skin, blood trickled down my face, and it caused the scalper to pause. He stuck the knife in the ground and rubbed that warm blood on my forehead furious-like. He jerked his head around to look at the others so fast his top hat flew off. It took me a moment, but I realized they had never seen a colored man before and thought I was painted up. When the blood slipped out and didn’t run the paint, they was startled.