flaming jewels

onc't in the west (ii): loa

Onc't in the West (ii)--My side, why cheating at cards can get you in trouble, and the fact that I don't have a license for my .45s.

Well, okay, maybe we did cheat at cards. But it was just for fun! I love to see a man's face turn red when he realizes he's been beat by a slip of a girl with a couple o' ace-cards in her hatband and seven more sewn into her sleeves.

You shoulda been there, I tellya. Shoulda been there.

Fat guy, big loomin' forehead, with an accent thicker'n the coffee they was servin.

I'll try to decipher it for you. When my jewelie threw down her last flush, an sat there grinnin, this guy just looked at her as tho she were the devil hisself.

And maybe she was.

He said, "Missus, ah don' like to hurt a lady...."

(The hell he don't. I heard the stifled screams comin from the madam's upper room when I was doin my rounds last night. I likes to walk round the town just after sunset. Ascertaining, you might say, the lay of the land. Ol' fat-gut Neanderthal was maulin' a whore just about one in the morning. I heard it.)

He said, "But ah know you's cheatin. No one could have that kind of luck all night."

My jewelie tipped her chair. Tipped back her hat so's she could look up right at him. Grinned a big-ol-wide grin. He started to look angry.

His fingers looked a mite itchy.

At that, I stood. My jewelie don't wear guns. She don't like guns.

But I do.

"She ain't no lady. But she has the devil's own luck. You ain't callin her a liar, are ya?" I said. Of a sudden I wanted to shoot this man. He couldn't kill -me-, that I knew. I had had lots of practice. "Hey, mister, you ain't callin her a LIAR, are ya?"

She -was- a liar. But that was neither here nor there.

His face was turning dusty brick. "Yeah," he said slowly, "Yeah, I guess I am."

Well, I didn't give him a chance to speak anymore, because I figured that anything he had to say would be worthless anyways. I just shot him.

I am an angel of light...and usually, that's how fast I move. At the speed of light, I mean. Which, though I don't think anyone's figgered out an exact number yet, is pritty fast. I shot him, and he was just closing his mouth over the word "am."

Sometimes words are pretty useless.

Well, that was that. They came and took us to jail.

Some stupid hick jail where the drunk tank was the same as the cell where they put the murderers.

A murderer is the least of what I am.

They knocked jewelie up pretty bad for a minute, cause she tried to get away. She was halfway across the block on a stolen horse when they shot her. And of course, she had to fall off the horse, so they thought they'd hurt her. It was pretty funny. She throwed up her arms, and went, "uhhhhh!" like that. Then she fell off the horse. She laid in the dust n twitched a little, all the while going "uhhh!" I woulda been rollin around in the dust laughing, but that would have spoiled our chances for a hangin. So I just kep' quiet, but I was shore laughing inside.

They went and picked her up. They were gonna look for a bullet hole, but the sheriff said to leave it, cos we'd be hangin in the morning anyways. Good thing they didn't look, cos there wouldn't have been any blood. Then we wouldn't of got our hangin.

And evryone knows how I love a hangin.

We spent the night in jail. They just tossed us onto the dirt floor. There was a little cot, but it smelled funny and it wasn't big enough for both of us. So we slept under the cot. Sorta curled up, like. I whispered, "jewelie, that shootin was pritty funny. You got a flair for the dramatic, girl." I couldn't see her, but I know she rolled her eyes when she said, "Ah shoulda been on the stage, honey. Ah would be a leeeeadin laaady an get all the luuuuuv songs."

She makes me laugh so hard sometimes.

They woke me up at dawn. We had just gone to sleep when our bodies had told us it was getting near dawn. I hate dawn. So nachruly, I was kind of ticked when they woke us up.

I almost shot the sheriff (hee hee!) till I remembered that they took away my guns.

Lucky for him. They coulda buried him right next to ol' Neanderthal boy.

As it was, we just sorta blinked at him. He looked disgusted. I bet it was because my jewelie had her head resting on my hip and I was curled up round her knees. Aw, that was okay, because us and the sheriff weren't friends anyways. If he thought we was queer, that's fine. He wouldn't understand, even as I took all of the blood out of him. Even then.

They took us out to the gibbet.

[go to part (iii)] [back to index]

jewel@gleeful.com
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