Paradise Sky

“Already thought about that,” I said.

Bronco nodded. “If you need me while you’re here, Nat, if you come across him, I am your man. But after that, I’m sticking with Dodge. I think I can manage some card games and may even go back to shooting matches a bit. I’m sick of riding and being out in the wilds. I think I’ll encourage the boy to stay with me as well. I might try and get some newspaper work here until I can write books about you and me and our adventures. Some of them will be true.”

“I understand,” I said.

We bought some biscuits with meat in them, wrapped them in a red-and-white-checked cloth they gave us, and carried those back to the hotel. On the way up to our room, we ordered and paid for another pot of coffee. In the room we found Red sitting up on the side of the bed, holding his head like Atlas holding up the world.

“I feel bad,” he said.

“You and Bronco Bob had quite a toot,” I said.

“If that means we drank a lot, that’s what happened,” Red said. “I think I even got some pussy. Though I’m a little shaky on the memory.”

We gave him the biscuits, and he went to wolfing them down and drinking more coffee. About the time he got to the second biscuit, he paused in midbite, said, “Hey, wait a minute.”

I was pouring a cup of coffee. “What?” I said.

“That Jew fellow. He was in the jail with me. He was the one hit me.”

I put the cup down. “You mean Golem? He was back there in the jail?”

“I forgot about it until just now. My head ain’t right. My brain is all twisted. But he was back there. Had that ash mark on his forehead. I know it was him. I seen him around Deadwood before. I think what happened is I knew it was him, said something to him about how he was a big coward and a backjumper. I got sick on him, and he beat me up. I’m not really sure in what order all that happened, but it happened.”

I put on my hat. “Guess I’ll go over and see him,” I said.

“No,” Bronco Bob said. “You can’t go in the jail and try and kill a man with your bare hands, Nat. That is frowned on by law officers, and in the long run, considering his size to yours, foolish.”

It was all I could do not to rush out the door, but of course he was right, and I wasn’t stupid, no matter how bad I wanted to kill Golem. If I was going to go back to Win with all my parts, I had to play it wise.

“Tell you what,” Bronco Bob said. “I will go over and check and see what Golem’s status is, make sure the kid here didn’t dream it.”

“I didn’t,” Red said.

“When I know what the situation is, I will come back, and we can lay plans. Maybe I can go his bail and get him back on the street, and then you can kill him.”

“Fair enough,” I said.

Bronco Bob went out, and Red said, “I forgot I had that derringer in my boot. I should have shot him.”

“Against a man like that it would be like trying to knock a mountain over with a well-thrown rock,” I said. “It’s best you didn’t shoot him with that. He might have killed you.”

I quit talking and sat down in the stuffed chair, but now it didn’t seem so comfortable. I looked at my hands resting on my knees. They was shaking. Not from fear. I was too mad to be fearful. They was shaking with anger.

It seemed like I sat there for hours, but it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. Bronco Bob come in and said, “He was there, but he’s been released. He sobered up and paid his own fine. I had to shoot shit with the marshal and pretend Golem was an old pal and I was looking to buy him a beer and some such story line, but he didn’t know where he went. Just that he paid up and left. My thoughts are he has gone out to take a nip of the hair of the dog that bit him, to get over that hangover.”

“Maybe that’s what I need,” Red said.

“No,” I said. “You don’t.” I turned to Bronco Bob, said, “Listen here. How about one last favor, and then you are out of it. Go over to the Long Branch and peek in and see if he’s there, check the other saloons if he ain’t. I would be noticed a lot quicker by him than you, as you have grown in the hair and beard department, and you aren’t wearing your show clothes.”

“That’s a for sure good thought,” Bronco Bob said, and went out.

Well, that time an hour or so did actually pass before he came back in and said, “I looked in all the saloons and didn’t see him. He may have found a place to sleep last night off.”

“All right,” I said. “From here on out this is my problem.”

“I told you I was game to stay with you as long as you were in town,” Bronco Bob said.

“I’m in for whatever comes,” Red said.

“I know, and I appreciate it, but I’d prefer neither of you got involved. That hasn’t worked out for them that’s been friendly toward me in the past. Red, you stretch out on my bed and rest some more. You wouldn’t be of any use like that anyway. And Bob, you look like hell yourself. Sleep some, and then get you a bath, or in the other order if you like. Me, I’m going to take a walk around town.”

“I don’t feel good letting you do that, Nat,” Bronco Bob said.

“You look out on your feet,” I said. “You wouldn’t be of much help.”

“That might be true, but let me sleep a few hours, and we’ll go out together.”

“All right,” I said. “You two stretch out and rest, and we’ll talk it over then.”

“Now you’re using your head,” Bronco Bob said.

Bronco went to his room, and Red stretched back out on the bed, and in spite of all that coffee he was out right off. I closed my eyes thinking to relax a moment, but I went out like a candle in a high wind.

When I awoke it was to noise in the street, and it was dark.

I looked at the bed, and I could see Red’s shape. He was still asleep and snoring loudly. I got up, went to the window, and looked out at the street, which was lit up with flickering streetlamps and the lights from the saloons. The street was full of folks, a lot of them obviously drunk.

I slipped the derringer from Red’s boot, and with it tucked in my coat pocket, went downstairs and asked if the liveryman had left me a message, but he hadn’t.

I went along the streets looking for Golem, even glancing in the saloons Bronco Bob had looked in just in case he had shown up. I didn’t see him. I walked all over Dodge and back again but didn’t see my man. I went to all the saloons again, managing to be called nigger only twice, once affectionately. I even had some warm sarsaparilla at the Long Branch, but still didn’t see the son of a bitch.

Finally I slipped out of the saloon for a last stroll around town and had the same results. I was about to give it up when I decided I might amble down to the stockyards, take a look there. Closer I got to them, the stronger that cow shit smell became. There was a few cowboys in the area, but it was mostly just pens of cattle, the drovers having left their herds there and glad to be shed of them.

No Golem.

As I was crossing the street back to my hotel, I come across the liveryman, who was coming toward it. I called out his name, and after determining that I was who he thought I was, he threw up his hand in greeting and came over to me. He said, “I ain’t seen your man. He hasn’t come for his horse. But I thought I might tell you something of interest, if you can tell me why you want to find him so bad.”

“My plan is to kill him deader than a goddamn post, and I have my reasons. I’ll put them in a nutshell for you if you’ll stand for it,” I said.

“I will,” he said.

I told him what had happened, leaving out a bit of it here and there but giving him the story in a fairly honest ma

“My God, man. No wonder you want to find him. But you ain’t even got a pistol.”

“There’s the law,” I said.

“If you’re going to break the law and kill him, you ought to have something to do it with. Come by the livery and let me slip you a pistol. Just one.”

“All right,” I said. “But wasn’t our agreement that I tell you what happened to make me want to find him, and then you’d tell me something?”