October Round-Up Challenge
by smp4ever
The executioner pulls the lever and the murderous animal, Gregory Barlow, drops through the trapdoor. His body jerks sharply, then it relaxes as his bladder and bowels release what he truly is. Seeing his bulging eyes and protruding, swollen tongue doesn’t give me the satisfaction I want.
An arm reaches across the back of my shoulders. “It’s over, son. Let’s go home.”
It will never be over, Pa.
My mind won’t release me from the vision of the vicious murder of my fiancee, Janie. Finding her naked body, dripping with blood, can never be erased from my memory.
I nod my head. Pa, Hoss, and I mount our horses and ride back home. Usually we head to the Silver Dollar for a drink, but not today. Life has changed for me.
A month has passed. Death and mourning don’t stop time. Each day I work at returning to my normal routine. Even though it’s a struggle, I’ve learned I can’t fight grief. Funny, I think I have to befriend it so it doesn’t consume me.
Hoss heads in my direction. “Hey, Joe, me and Pa are gonna head out to Sacramento tomorrow to visit the Dentons and check out their imported British Herefords and Angus. Ya sure you don’t wanna go with us?”
“Somebody’s gotta run the ranch, Big Brother. Anyway, I already told Pa I’d rather stay home. You understand, don’t you, Hoss?”
“Yeah, I guess I do,” my brother says as he pats me on the back.
The next day, Hoss is mounted and ready to go. He calls out, “Stay outta trouble, Little Brother.” I smile at the man who is the best friend anyone can have. “Take your own advice, ya big galoot!”
Pa walks up to me and puts his hand on my shoulder. He studies my face. I can see the concern in his eyes. My father will never change. “We’ll be back in about two weeks. Take care of yourself, son.”
Pa’s gaze lasts a little longer than usual. I smile and shake my head.
“Have a good visit with Mr. and Mrs. Denton. Pick out some good cattle to crossbreed with ours.”
Pa squeezes my shoulder then turns and mounts Buck. He and Hoss trot past the barn and are gone.
Time to get to my jobs.
Eight hours later, I just about drag myself inside, wash up, and make a sandwich.
I find the evening uneventful. It’s really quiet, maybe too quiet.
You should have gone with Pa and Hoss, Joe. Oh well, too late now.
Tired after a full day’s work, I grab Pa’s brandy and head to bed. I am just dozing off when I hear a strange noise coming from downstairs. It sounds…ghostly.
I spring out of bed, grab my Colt, and creep onto the landing. I’m a little wobbly. How much brandy did I drink? The low embers in the fireplace create shadows on the wall that look like dancing tendrils.
Something flashes that almost blinds me. I raise my arm to cover my eyes. Squinting, I see a shadowy figure floating in the air behind a larger image. “It can’t be!” I whisper – “two ghosts, one with Barlow’s face, the man who was hanged?” Then, just as quickly, they disappear.
This can’t be happening–I’m not going to have Pa’s special brandy before going to bed again.
After checking downstairs, I head back to bed shaking my head and grinning. I still keep my gun close. Doc did say stress, grief, and sleep deprivation can cause hallucinations. Add the brandy on top of that and – Eureka, right? It explains what just happened.
Getting back under the covers, I yawn and close my eyes. My rest is short-lived. A muffled voice chokes out, “Cartwright, you had me hanged. You’re about to learn what real suffering is.” I bolt up in bed. Then the dead man’s face presses against the pane of glass. It vanishes in an instant. My heart is pounding against my chest.
I’m about to look out the window when I hear an explosion and feel a surge of heat. I rush out my door. Flames are shooting up the chimney. Embers are blowing out of the firebox in every direction. I grab the wool blanket and rush to suffocate the flames on the furniture and to extinguish the scattered floor fires. Sweat drips from every pore and I choke on the smoke and fumes, but I’m confident the blazes are out.
“This is just the beginning, Cartwright,” a faint, haunting voice hums.
My eyes dart in every direction as I grab a rifle from the rack. Nothing! I pull a dining room chair over to position myself in the center of the room. My eyelids feel like weights are hanging from them. I must stay awake. Eerie sounds are growing louder. Then ghosts appear outside the windows above Pa’s desk.
I yell in a raspy voice, “What do you want from me?”
Only silence follows.
I pray morning will stop the insanity. One more hour, Joe.
Then the prettiest sight appears– the sun.
I’m still trying to separate reality from delusion. However, looking around, the damage is genuine.
We’re down to a skeleton crew this time of year. I go to the bunkhouse and ask a couple of hands if they saw any strange goings on last night. Turns out they were all in town.
“You wanna join us tonight, Joe?” Harry asks.
I decline. “Thanks. Have a good time.”
I’m still not ready to party.
Anyway, I have to be here in case something similar happens later. I can’t even tell the men. They’ll think I’m crazy. Maybe I am.
As night falls, I bolt the doors and head up to bed. I stay dressed, just in case. Lying on the bed, I pray these spirits have gone. Then…
No, not again. Chains are rattling, loud eerie sounds are echoing throughout the house.
Without thinking, I run out of my room like a wild man to confront these demons. I make it to the first landing when I see Barlow in the flesh, aiming a gun at me. Another figure glides beside him. They start chanting in sinister voices, “Beware the dark, the end is near.” Menacing laughter follows.
Are my eyes deceiving me?
“Barlow, I saw you hang! You’re dead!”
“Sorry to disappoint you, Cartwright. I’m very much here. I couldn’t rest until I came back to get my revenge. It was fun tormenting you, but I’m getting tired of haunting your house. Now it’s your turn to die.”
I only have one choice, so I fling myself over the railing, roll, and shoot at my target. He goes down with a thud. I start to get up when a second man appears. I spin and fire. I get him, but not before he shoots me.
A weak voice from across the room whispers, “Cartwright, you had our brother sent to the gallows. He was my identical twin. You killed part of me that day. Now your bullet is taking care of the rest of me and my other brother. Hope you join us, too.” His sinister laugh is the last thing I hear.
A soft figure appears beside me. She takes my hand.
“Janie, you came for me.”
“No, my love, it’s not your time. You need to fight, Joe. Help is coming. We will be together again, but not now.”
“Janie, I don’t want to live without you. I feel so broken.”
“Joe Cartwright, you are strong. I’m never far from you. Feel my love always.”
Janie’s lips brush mine and then she is gone. Tears slip from my eyes.
******
“Joseph, Joseph. Stay with me, son. The doctor’s on his way.”
I’m so tired. I don’t know what’s real anymore. Pa’s on his way to Sacramento. He can’t be here.
Everything goes dark.
I feel a hand, my father’s hand, brushing the hair off my forehead. My eyes flutter open. “Pa.”
“Welcome back, son.”
“Yeah, Little Brother. You had us pretty worried for several days. Glad you’re back in the land of the living.”
“What are you two doing here?”
“Well, son, you know me. I was very concerned about you. After a day’s travel, we camped overnight. Hoss recognized the worried look on my face, so the next morning we headed for home.”
“Good thing you did. Thanks.”
“Hey, Joe, I was just wondering, did you bring sheets outside?”
“Huh?”
“Yeah, looks like you made a kind of kite with one, and the second one you cut a round hole. You better not let Hop Sing see them.”
“Oh, so that’s how they did it.”
Hoss scrunches his nose. “Did what?”
“I’ll explain it all, but not right now. I’m tired.”
“And, young man, what about the bottle of my special, expensive brandy that’s empty?”
“Pa, Pa, Doc said I need lots of rest.”
I conveniently close my eyes and say, “Good night!”
The end
