Paradise Sky

It did, too.

As we roughed that night through, I thought on what Ruggert had told me about his grandfather owning Mama, and you can bet I thought about asking him about that, if he was lying to me, but then I thought there wasn’t no use. If I asked he’d say it was so if it wasn’t, and in the end it didn’t matter. But the idea of Ruggert or his kin having their way with my family in any kind of fashion set on my stomach like spoiled milk. But damn if I was going to give him the satisfaction. And what did it matter? Mama had done all she could, considering the circumstances. What she had been forced to do, or forced to be, was no consideration, really. I looked over at Ruggert lying there, having taken a lick to the head, and to be damn honest, in a small way I felt sorry for him. In that very moment I let go of any kind of anger I might have had about his kin owning her. It didn’t mean a thing now. I had the bastard.

Next morning we started out again, and when Ruggert started moaning too much, Choctaw suggested his pain cure, which would be a short nap with a bad headache on awakening. This caused Ruggert to keep it down considerable until we reached Fort Smith, though that blow to the head caused him to throw up most of the trip there.

34

We dropped Ruggert off at the jail, and a doctor was brought over to look at his leg. We said there was cows and horses that had to be rounded up but me and Choctaw wasn’t the men for it, so there was some herders put together right away, and Choctaw gave them the general location.

I came out of the courthouse feeling as if I was a new man. I can’t explain it exactly, but I think I felt good for not killing Ruggert—not something I would have considered just a short time ago. As it began to get evening, I rode over to Luther’s house, and when they let me in it was to the sound of laughter and the smell of good cooking, which was shared with me.

I told them all that had happened, including the sewing of Choctaw’s ear, and about how when the doctor came to look at Ruggert he looked at Choctaw’s ear, complimented my sewing, said it had about a fifty-fifty chance of reattaching itself, which was about fifty percent more of a chance than I expected. Ruthie joked that if the marshaling didn’t work out, I could take on seamstress work.

We finished up supper, then me and Ruthie took a walk out to the gate, and when I figured Luther or Samson wasn’t looking out the window, I gave Ruthie a kiss, then I gave her some promises. Some of it I had already said, but I felt it deserved repeating. I wanted her for my bride. I wanted a new life. I wanted a calm life and wanted to rethink on being a marshal. I told her I couldn’t give it up right away, but I wanted a farm, as I knew how to do that as well as I knew how to shoot a pistol.

“I say we marry in the fall,” Ruthie said.

“I say that’s fine.”

“I say we have children, but not right away. And we get a dog.”

“I say all right to that, too.”

“I’d like to live near my dad and brother.”

“We can build a house right behind this one if you want.”

“Not that close. But if they’re in Fort Smith, I’d like to be here as well.”

“I like here fine,” I said.

We went on like that for a while, and then I got more sweet, and the way I talked kind of embarrasses me, so I won’t recite what I said here. But it was loving and a little mushy, I can tell you that much, and it had to do with things that wasn’t about farming.

I rode back to the stable, got my horse boarded, then walked over to where I was staying and went to bed. But I didn’t sleep much.

Judge Parker ran a quick court. Ruggert and Kid Red was condemned to hang from their necks until they was dead, dead, dead, and this was set up to happen quickly. On the day before the hanging, I got word from Choctaw, whose ear had begun to heal and attach itself, that the kid wanted to see me over at the jail. I thought about not going, but then decided me and him had been friends once, so I’d oblige.

When I got there he was sitting on the bunk inside his cell, and when he looked up and seen me he smiled. “I wasn’t sure you’d come, Nat.”

I could see Ruggert across the way behind his own set of bars. His head was wrapped from where Choctaw had hit him, and his leg was bound up with slats and fresh bandages, and he looked as if he had just eaten a sour persimmon. At least he wasn’t howling and moaning.

I looked back at Kid Red. “I wasn’t sure I was coming, either.”

Kid Red got up and came over and grasped the bars with both hands.

“I spoke bad to you, Nat.”

“Yeah,” I said.

“I didn’t mean it.”

“All right.”

“Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

“For what you said to me, yeah. For what you done, no.”

“I don’t blame you for that. I can’t forgive myself. I thought it was all right when I was doing all of it, but now I know it wasn’t right.”

“Little late,” I said.

“But at least I know the difference.”

“You knew the difference then,” I said.

“A preacher come in here and told me I would be forgiven if I admitted my sins. Stood right where you are with a Bible and told me that. You think that’s true?”

“No. But if it’s any comfort, I think when you’re dead you don’t go to hell. You don’t go nowhere. It’s over.”

“I didn’t want to hear that.”

“You asked.”

“But you could be wrong, couldn’t you?”

“I’m wrong about lots of things. I was wrong about you.”

“Shit, Nat. I didn’t want to go out like this. I wanted to be important.”

“Doubt anyone wants to grow up to hang. But you will, son. You will.”

“You don’t have to rub it in. I know I talked bad to you, but I was mad and scared.”

“You’re going to hang not for what you said to me but for all you done.”

“You done some bad things,” he said.

“My killings was justified by self-defense and rescue. You killed because you could. And you raped.”

When I said that, I immediately thought of Win and that empty look in her eyes.

“At least you forgive me for what I said to you. You said you did, right?”

“I did. And Kid, I hope the rope breaks your neck quick.”

“You’ll tell them to tie it right, won’t you?”

“Executioner knows what he’s doing.”

“They say he wears a hood.”

“So will you. That’s how it’s done.”

“I hear when you hang…I hear you mess yourself.”

“Most do.”

“I was thinking if I don’t eat, I won’t have that problem.”

“I’d eat,” I said. “You’ll shit yourself anyway.”

“Jesus, Nat. I don’t want to go out like a coward.”

“Then don’t.”

“Easy to say from your side.”

“True enough,” I said.

“Will you promise to be there?”

“You want me to see you hang?”

“I want to look out and see you. You’re the only person I know.”

“You know me,” Ruggert called out.

“Well, and him. But I don’t like him.”

“You liked me fine before,” Ruggert said.

“I like Nat better.”

Ruggert stirred on his bunk, like he was going to try and get up, but didn’t. He just said, “Nigger lover.”

“He can really hold a grudge,” Kid Red said.

“Tell me about it,” I said.

“So you’ll be there?”

“Sure,” I said.

I reached through the bars and shook the kid’s hand.

“I wish I had rode with you instead of Ruggert.”

“Me, too,” I said.

I looked at Ruggert, but he didn’t say another word.

That very day I got word I had a good-sized amount of money coming from the arrest of Ruggert and for the bodies of those other two desperadoes. Even split with Choctaw it was a large amount. A letter arrived from Mr. Loving’s lawyer. It said if I was who I said I was and could prove it, I should come to Abilene, Kansas, and collect my money, which was sizable. That’s why my letter had taken so long to find him and why he took so long to get back to me. He wasn’t in East Texas anymore. He was in Kansas.