Counting the Stars
Where to start?
I was born in this old town called York. It was old even when my folks first arrived. Mother was the daughter of some rancher and Pa? was a deputy come to town to be its new sheriff. In all we had about twelve buildings and a handful of farms and ranches in the plains west and north. Ours was a little house with two floors and four rooms. My brothers Charlie, James and Frankie shared a room with me while my sisters Jeanine and Marianne had a room to themselves. The third room was for the deputy, a queer fellow by the name of Wyatt. I never liked him, but Pa? always said he was a good, honest man and that he was like family, so we took to calling him uncle Wyatt.
Pa?s job was mostly just riding through town at night to make sure the saloon down the way wasn?t getting too rowdy. Every now and then a gang might ride through but Pa?, Uncle Wyatt and a handful of other deputies and honorable men would stand out in the middle of the street or on the saloon?s balcony with some repeaters in their hands and that?d scare most men off fast enough. I remember one time I watched through the window of my room when this gang came riding up, led by a fellow named Walder.
This was the first we?d seen of them and he apparently hadn?t heard about the small army of men York had protecting it at the time. It was him and six others that came riding in, shouting and shooting their guns into the sky like a bunch of igits. He rode right up to Pa? and said he?d be real pleased if we?d give him some money and a few whores for his men to toss around for a night or two, also made a point of saying he?d be inclined to start shooting folks if we didn?t become hospitable.
Pa? looked him dead in the eyes, lifted his six-shooter and shot his horse out from under him. The beast landed on Walder?s leg and broke it and Pa? shot him in the arm before the deputies and the men opened fire on the rest of his gang. Three were shot dead but the other three turned tail and ran the moment Walder was down.
After that Pa? paid the doc to patch Walder up and threw him in jail until some marshals came by to take him somewhere more permanent.
I asked him why he didn?t just shoot Walder dead himself and he never answered.
Pa? never killed anyone that I ever saw. I think he had some sort of code against it.
I guess we?re different that way.
Where to start?
I was born in this old town called York. It was old even when my folks first arrived. Mother was the daughter of some rancher and Pa? was a deputy come to town to be its new sheriff. In all we had about twelve buildings and a handful of farms and ranches in the plains west and north. Ours was a little house with two floors and four rooms. My brothers Charlie, James and Frankie shared a room with me while my sisters Jeanine and Marianne had a room to themselves. The third room was for the deputy, a queer fellow by the name of Wyatt. I never liked him, but Pa? always said he was a good, honest man and that he was like family, so we took to calling him uncle Wyatt.
Pa?s job was mostly just riding through town at night to make sure the saloon down the way wasn?t getting too rowdy. Every now and then a gang might ride through but Pa?, Uncle Wyatt and a handful of other deputies and honorable men would stand out in the middle of the street or on the saloon?s balcony with some repeaters in their hands and that?d scare most men off fast enough. I remember one time I watched through the window of my room when this gang came riding up, led by a fellow named Walder.
This was the first we?d seen of them and he apparently hadn?t heard about the small army of men York had protecting it at the time. It was him and six others that came riding in, shouting and shooting their guns into the sky like a bunch of igits. He rode right up to Pa? and said he?d be real pleased if we?d give him some money and a few whores for his men to toss around for a night or two, also made a point of saying he?d be inclined to start shooting folks if we didn?t become hospitable.
Pa? looked him dead in the eyes, lifted his six-shooter and shot his horse out from under him. The beast landed on Walder?s leg and broke it and Pa? shot him in the arm before the deputies and the men opened fire on the rest of his gang. Three were shot dead but the other three turned tail and ran the moment Walder was down.
After that Pa? paid the doc to patch Walder up and threw him in jail until some marshals came by to take him somewhere more permanent.
I asked him why he didn?t just shoot Walder dead himself and he never answered.
Pa? never killed anyone that I ever saw. I think he had some sort of code against it.
I guess we?re different that way.