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Post by wolf on May 4, 2023 18:34:02 GMT
“The Quietus Of Justin Chasseur”
Part V
Dust Devil and Cat
Plus Other Answers
Mort had to laugh a little at that observation of Justin’s. She liked how he paid attention, and didn’t miss things like most folks tended to.
“Sometimes it just be that way ‘round these parts on This Side.
Keeps sh!t interesting, ya know?
No one wants sh!t to get boring.”
she grinned and continued,
“As far as this being the Other Side, and still looking like Light Shade?…this IS Light Shade.
The same town you rode into a few days ago.
This is Light Shade on the Other Side.
It, and everywhere else, exists on BOTH sides.
You see, it’s like this,
we’re on another level.
The same place as before,
just another plane where most things are hidden, unseen, by the majority of people.
They’re in their own time and space, and we’re in and out, on an ‘Other’ side of those things.
Plower and Sparks know.
Animals know and see stuff,
like lil young kids can.
I know you’ve heard old folks spinnin’ yarns and talk about how kids and animals can see things around them that other people can’t.
Kids….kinda ‘outgrow’ that ability,
the older they get,
and more responsibility they have, and less wonder the world has for them.
They turn into grown ups that are sort of jaded.
But not in an awful way.
It’s just what needs to be,
and what helps people attain ‘Faith’, and other good things.
You were wondering why no one has been out, looking to see what the ruckus was about….”
Justin knew that was a question he had yet to put a voice to. He stopped her there.
“I never said that. But I thought it.”
He looked at her warily, with a raised eyebrow.
“You readin’ my mind?”
He didn’t like the idea of anyone doing that.
Mort answered honestly,
“I can.
But you needn’t have concern,
I rarely do that.
Hell, it takes most of my effort just keepin’ up with the sh!t I’m thinkin’ ‘bout half of the time.
And to be like perfectly Frank, I really don’t give a flyin’ f*** what people think, or are thinkin’ about.”
That satisfied Justin enough,
“Alright then.
Please don’t do that,
‘less you really have to,
or can’t help it.”
Mort nodded,
“Okay.”
And she thought to herself,
‘ he’s pretty damn smart too’.
“Sorry for interruptin’ you, go on tellin’ me, please.”
And she did.
“People of Light Shade are just runnin’ slower than us right now is all. And they’re not aware of many things goin’ on or that those things are here, like Pain and the Grieves.
Now, of course they were aware of an altercation transpirin’ betwixt you and the lil azzhole.
That was different, a part of their existence and yours, at the time.
Hell, down in the saloon right now,
there’s an ol’ boy that’s been raisin’ his shot of whisky to his lips, during all this chattin’, we’re doing.
Only now has the edge of the first drop barely reached his tongue.
And take me and ol’ Faustus there, for instance.
He didn’t even see me talkin’ to you, ‘til he got shot. He thought you were just talkin’ to good ol’ Plower.
And he was going to steal a man’s horse, a man who was going to soon be dead, and unable to finger him for foul horseplay.
You’re different than most, Justin.
Always were, though you don’t know it,
but more so in the minutes leading up to yer quit.
I was down there with the Grieves earlier, you couldn’t see me ‘cause I hadn’t let you. Yet.”
“So we’re all the time, runnin’ faster and far ahead of everything else.”
Said Justin, thinkin’ on it.
Mort thought he looked sad about that.
“ Nooo, don’t be sad….”
“You stop that readin’ my mind!”
He said crossly, making Mort look cross, but not mad.
“I DIDN’T.
I ain’t a liar!
I don’t like liars or trouble makers, and lyin’ leads to troubemakin’ and vice versa!
I read yer FACE.
Ya got one of THOSE faces, you know.
Ain’t that right, Plower?”
Plower was drinking from the trough again. Without looking around at them, he raised his head and nodded, over his shoulder he said at Justin,
“Yep.
Sorry Boss, it true.
There’s a reason why you hardly e’re win a hand of Poker.”
“Oh.
Good to know.”
Was his comment back, with a wee bit of misery attached to it. Then he went on to ask,
“Mort, how come Faustus ain’t all slowed down like the other folks?”
She smiled again, being patient and not getting upset with him,
“I’m gettin’ to that.
Need to tell you this first though….
You see, here, time does whatever it needs or wants to. Sometimes it slows and sometimes it speeds up, and a lot of the time, Time runs neck and neck on and with both Sides. It’s pretty cool actually.
You ain’t always goin’ to be runnin’ faster and far ahead.
You’ll get used to it,
and end up enjoying it eventually.
Now when it comes to Faustus bein’ here, and runnin’ neck and neck with us….that just happens with some folks,sometimes.
And there’s a couple of reasons why that might happen.
Might be that it’s just ‘cause they’re special, or maybe there is a reason for them to be in that state.
Could be that Faustus was supposed to specifically be here to get shot and learn a lesson,
and not develope a taste for horse thievin’.
And maybe, some folks just get caught up in events sometimes.
I usually don’t worry about stuff like that.
Whate’er supposed to happen here, or there,
will happen.”
Mort looked past Justin then,
“Hey, sumthin’s comin’. Watch this.”
Justin followed her gaze…..
Towards the west end of the main street behind Justin, a small dust devil formed. Swirling, it gently zig zagged around, picking up and tossing about an old piece of a Blue Bird Flour sack along its way. As it was throwing it up in the air and catching it again, twirling it around inside itself, a cat’s attention was caught. The young Tom was sitting, washing himself after a rat attack an’ snack, at the corner of the general store. The tabby’s eyes got big and dark, ‘Play!’ He thought. He crouched down low on the walk’s boards, making himself look small and stealthy, his tail happily snaking and wagging. He got friskier, revving up his hind quarters, and when it got close enough, he sprang off the porch walkway, launching himself at the dust devil, wanting that piece of flour sack so badly. The game was on. Dust Devil spiraled around Cat, teasing him with the rag, letting it fall within paw reach, then snatching it away. Leading Cat into the fun sport of chase, catch, release and chase again.
“I like watchin’ them do that, playin’ that way. Especially in the Fall when the winds are blowing leaves across the yards, and kitties can’t resist chasin ’ and catchin’ them.” grinned Mort.
At the time Justin thought she was just talking about the cat, but Mort was referring to more than that. Later he would ‘learn more’ about that.
Watching the dust devil and cat was entertaining as well as being another magical moment.
Dust Devil, in mid twirl and swirl, slowed like the crow’s wings, and Plower’s drips and dribbles of water. Its motion came to a stop, the rag fell, Cat pounced on it then sat back looking at it and daring it move again. In the frozen dust cloud grains of sand caught flecks of sunlight and like the tiniest chips of gleaming and glittering precious yellow and chocolate diamonds, they sparkled beautiful and brilliant. A piece of wonderful spellbinding forever was captured in a second.
Dust Devil began to move back into a normal speed again, grabbing up the rag from Cat’s reach. The game resumed, and off the playmates ran back down to the west end of town.
Justin was again freed from the spell of enthrallment in the fascinating occurrence, as he had been with the lovely diamonds in the water.
Mort commented,
“Pretty, ain’t it. I ne’er get tired of that. Colors and all are a little deeper, more eyecatchin’ here. And seem to glimmer, shine and burn a little brighter.”
He looked at her smiling and nodded.
“I dunno how anyone could get tired of seeing things like that.”
Then he went back to last most important query,
“What was that about a job, Mort? What is it?”
Mort slapped her hands on her knees, getting back to finishin’ up the answerin’.
“Dunno.
Not my business.
That’s YOURS.
Whut I do know, is that there is one for you.
Told you, you’re different.
Special.
You’ve got Gift and Talents, Justin. The job you’ll have will come to you, and when you see it, you’ll know what it is.”
He listened, not questioning her, but had to say,
“Aw hell Mort, there ain’t nuthin’ special about me.”
“Justin! Do you think just anyone get’s to cross over and move on the way you have? Did you not see what happened to that lil basturd you put quit to?”
Now Mort’s questions were rhetorical. She went on,
“He won’t see a grave, but he’ll rot and know the dire decay of death.
You are gettin’ to be whole, feelin’ fine, and move on barely breaking stride. You feel good again right now, don’t you?”
He did. He’d been so wrapped up in their conversation he’d not realized that the gut wound was gone, as was its pain, and all his other old pains and aches.
“Yeah. I do feel good.
I feel …..right again.
Right, like I haven’t felt in YEARS.”
“Good.
Then you’re ready to get up off your azz and saddle up.
We’ll be headin’ out soon.”
She informed him as she stood and walked back over to Sparks, and buckled up the saddle bag she’d left open when Faustus pissed her off.
Justin got up and brushed road off his dungarees. He didn’t much care for bein’ told what to do,
“Wait a minute, lady.
The last time I took a leak and checked, I’m a full grown man. Maybe I have no intention of headin’ out of here with you, or anyone else, but Plower?”
Mort just smiled,
“You got free will, same as you e’er did.
You don’t have to ride out with me. But I’m tellin’ ya,
it’s in your best interest that you do.
I’ve given you a good amount of information, and you’ll be just fine on your own from here on out.
But you still have some learnin’ to do.
If you hang out with me for just a little while, it’ll make that process a little quicker and easier for ya.
You can come with,
to my next appointment and see, learn, a lot.
But if you prefer not to,
that’ll be alright too.”
Plower’s reins were still untied from the hitching post. He turned and walked over to Justin’s hat laying on the dusty dirt street. He picked it up, shook it off and held it out to him. When Justin took it and thanked him, the good horse said,
“Awww….Com’mon Boss.
Let’s give it try.
She ain’t a bad ol’ girl.
And havin’ some company for a change?…..might make things even more interestin’.”
- Wolf
(Part VI “Riding Out” coming soon.)
Still got quite a bit of story to tell, so I’ve decided to write an Epiclogue.
Because I don’t want to ruin the last Part VI by trying to cram too much into it.🙂
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Post by osnafrank on May 5, 2023 13:26:25 GMT
Another excellent chapter, wolfie. 
Justin and Mort, what a nice team, can't wait to read about
their journey 
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Post by wolf on May 5, 2023 15:35:05 GMT
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Post by wolf on May 5, 2023 19:59:22 GMT
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Post by osnafrank on May 5, 2023 20:06:15 GMT
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Post by wolf on May 5, 2023 20:07:42 GMT
 😊 
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Post by wolf on May 12, 2023 2:36:00 GMT
Another excellent chapter, wolfie.
Justin and Mort, what a nice team, can't wait to read about
their journey
I will not disappoint you. 🙂 |
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Post by osnafrank on May 12, 2023 8:40:28 GMT
Another excellent chapter, wolfie.
Justin and Mort, what a nice team, can't wait to read about
their journey
I will not disappoint you. 🙂  |
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Post by wolf on May 22, 2023 23:35:01 GMT
“The Quietus Of Justin Chasseur”
Part VI
Riding Out
Justin gave him a pet and a scratch on the forehead, taking Plower’s suggestion into consideration.
“So you don’t know everything.
And I guess nothing can be changed.
Seein’ how everything that’s supposed to happen will happen.”
he said to Mort.
“No,
things can be changed,
not everything is ever entirely engraved permanently in unbreakable cosmic stones,
that birth the likes of Uru.
And miracles do happen too.
The Fates can be devious one sided tricksters,
don’t put much stock in what they might predict for a bein’.
There can always be a change in a course.
But then you get into a bunch of what if’s and alternate time lines. You got all the ‘length of days’ to investigate that stuff.
Just LIVE, Justin.
You got it good now,
enjoy it and don’t be thinkin’ too hard about shiet ‘til you have too.
Right now I know that you’re a good soul.
With a good heart and mind.
I know as much as I need,
and want to,
at anytime.
Hell, sometimes I forget things deliberately.
You know, just to….”
“….keep things interesting.”
Laughed Justin, finishing her sentence.
“My horse is up for it,
so I guess I gotta go with him.
Alright, Plower.
We’ll do it you an’ Mort’s way for awhile,
and see what happens.”
He decided.
“Good.
I’m gettin’ tired of talkin’ so damn much.
And better for you to learn more by seein’ and doin’.
We’ll stop by the saloon on our way out”,
said Mort untying Sparks’ reins.
“I got to collect my stuff outta my room.”
“No need weighin’ yourself down.
Plus ya ain’t got nuthin’ there much worth retrievin’ anyway.
Leave it for whoever occupies that space next.
Them good cigars you been savin’ up, just might make somebody’s day.
We’ll pick up anything we need along the way.”
She said with cheer, looking forward to being on their way.
“You a sharp dresser, Mort.
Don’t know how you’d want to go anywhere with me, lookin’ as awful as this.
Dang, this was my best shirt too, I liked this one.”
He bemoaned for the ruined shirt, as though it was the lost Lenore.
“I don’t care how you look.
We’ll get you some new duds,
I got plenty money.”
She said,
patting at her pants front pockets, where coins could be heard rattling.
She went on,
“Gold in the right,
and the silver of the realm in the left.
Until then,
just think hard about how that shirt was before.”
Justin concentrated a moment, and saw Mort nod at this shirt, urging him to give it another look.
The difference in his attitude was palpable, on seeing the blue striped white camisa appear to be brand new, and what it was when he first bought it at a Myer’s Dry Goods.
Even his old worn Levi Strauss dungarees looked better, and clean again.
“Now, that’s a nice trick, thank ya Mort!”
He told her, feeling much better.
“You did that friend!
One of those things that will come to you, in time.
Obviously you had you ‘a need’ to clean up some.
Things just work out that way.
The Good Almighty always provides us with what we really need to get by, when we really need it.”
She said, with a gentle smile of gratitude.
They stopped outside the saloon. Mort dismounted,
“I’ll be right back.”
and Sparks snorted sullenly, with a pronounced lack of fondness, while he kicked dirt at the bloody spot of ground where his previous tyrant rider had lain slain. Justin watched him, thinking about that missing corpse. To her he replied,
“We’ll be here.”
The barroom doors sprung open noisily as Mort stomped in. She was on the move towards the bar, checking tables with furtive glances, habitually patting down her pockets in search, ever mindful of the quest for fire to light the cigarette still hanging out of her mouth.
“Mort,
I knew it had to be YOU, lady.
I heard all that screamin’
and ‘above the law’ shiet goin’ on, down yonder.”
Mort’s eyes darted up to the sound of the greeting. It was a big black cowboy, with a huge bright smile and soft laughter in his voice.
“Leon The Parlayer!
Aw, it’s been a long time,
good to see ya again,
my friend.”
Then laughing herself,
“You know me.”
“Yup, always makin’ friends or enemies,
and keepin’ sh!t interestin’.”
The adjudicator declared.
She grinned and nodded,
“Got a light, Leon?”
“Nope.
Sorry, smoked my last cigarillo yesterday, using my last match.”
said he, with more sadness in his voice than Mort had in hers. She took the open pack of Marlboros from a vest pocket and slid them down the bar top to him.
“Damnit.
That’s okay,
sumthin’ll turn up.
Thanks anyway.
Hold my hat, will ya.”
She tossed it over to Leon, he caught it as she hopped up on the bar, laying over it on her belly. Hanging over upside down she grabbed some of the good whisky hidden on a lower shelf under the bar top.
“What brings you out here, Leon?”
“Oh, I got a spot of business to conduct with the blacksmith down the way.
He’s got some serious decisions to make, on where he goes next and what he’s gonna do.
I was waitin’ on you to finish
with all your hell raisin’ afore I ventured outside.”
It was Leon the Parlayer’s job to weigh and measure a being’s past roads and actions. People that had, or have, good potential. He would make them think about their lives. As well as issue warnings. Also make clear how they could and couldn’t, should and shouldn’t, continue on.
Mort jumped back down to the floor, got her hat back and put it on. Reaching into a pocket she took out 2 silver coins to put on the counter.
“Oh I’m done,
safe to come out now.
Exceptin’ for Pain runnin’ around somewhere.
You look out for her, Leon.
That creepy Demon bitch is a KISSER.”
Mort smiled wanly, with a small wince of disgust, remembering what Pain had done to poor ol’ Justin
“I see!
I’ll do that.
By the way,
that bartender is a good’un.
He feeds people well,
even when they ain’t got enough to pay,
and he never waters down the booze.”
Mort swallowed the big swig she’d taken from the bottle,
“Really!?
Well then,
we’ll take good care of him.”
She took the silver back, and replaced it with 2 of the gold angelic coins.
“Leon, I gotta get.
Things to do,
and more hell to raise.
You take care now,
friend.
We’ll meet again,
and hopefully have time for a real visit.”
Leon again smiled big and tipped his hat,
“Yes ma’am,
We sure will!
You take care too, lady.
And thanks for everything.”
She tipped her hat back to him, turned and strode back through the barroom to the swingin’ doors, looking the tables over once more for some fire. She wasn’t going to go through the aggravation of checking patron’s pockets.
Back outside she took another drink and looked up at the position of the traveling sun,
“It’s about 3:00 o’clock now.
Here take this Justin,
I know you’re ready for a drink too.”
She handed the whiskey up to him, and went about checking and adjusting a couple of billets and the cinch on Sparks’ saddle, asking him if he was comfortable. Justin was still studying the young upstarts blood puddle and asked her,
“What’s going to happen when the people see that kid has disappeared like this, Mort?”
“They might think he wasn’t hurt so bad after all, and he got up and left. Could be they’ll think some kin must’ve came and got him.
Probably no one will care what happened to that bad seed.
Then again… it is very possible he may become one of those full blown mystery, like the disappeared of Roanoke.
I don’t much give a shiet, myself.”
She laughed, and mounted Sparks.
It was time to go.
The newly whisky-anointed Traveling Companions In Arms didn’t ride off into the sunset, the sun was on the lowing behind them. Mort and Justin rode down Light Shade’s one Main Street toward the vast plain that Mort The Mule had crossed.
The afternoon quickly but easily passed on in a strangely natural, subtle manner. It became evening and night, in a matter of seconds as their horses walked leisurely on.
They reached Mort’s lone tree on the plain, and let the horses graze, on the sweet grasses and skithery little wild flowers. They had time for some more chatting.
Justin commented,
“You been a good friend to me today, Mort.
Gotta tell ya,
I appreciate that,
Thank ya, lady.”
Plower chimed in for moment,
“Yep,
maybe your badbadluck with women is changin’, Boss.”
Mort chuckled,
“You’re welcome,
been my pleasure.
I think you just ain’t met any of the good ones yet, Justin.
But I’m sure you will,
when you’re meant to.
There’s a few out there.”
She was admiring Plower while she was listening and talkin’, she had to say,
“You know what,
you’re one fine lookin’ pony Plower. And a good sized boy.
15 hands I’d say.
But you’re no plow horse.
How did you come by that name?”
Plower said with a mouthful of sweet grass,
“Tell her, Boss.
I’m busy eatin’.”
He smiled big and gave the good horse a hearty pat on the neck,
“Aw, Plower.
Yep, 15 hands alright.
Tell you whut, Mort.
Ridin’ him is like sittin’ back in a nice relaxin’ rockin’ chair.
He’s got him a way of plowin’ through long hard miles with a style and ease, like they were nuthin’ more than soft fine shake from a cotton load at the gin.
That’s how I got to callin’ him that.”
“Good name!
She exclaimed,
“Sparks, you ain’t as big
but I’m thinkin’ you can keep up.”
Sparks swallowed grass and nodded,
“Yes ma’am.
What e’er I may lack in length of stride, I can make up for with speed and stamina. I guarantee.”
Mort tugged playfully on his mane, and stroked his neck. She was already growing fond of him.
“Good boy,
I got faith in ya.”
She pointed out across the land to the South East,
“Justin.
Look hard over there.
You see the Hill Country over there?”
Justin’s eyes followed her point and to his surprise he found that was able to see hundreds of miles further than he could ever have dreamed.
“Yes I do.
That where we’re going?”
“Yeah.
My next appointment is over that way.
He’s a year away forward from us.
It’s a 2 week ride to cross this plain of mine and get there.
We’ll be across it and in the Hill Country tonight before the big storms come.
And I’ll meet him this Friday night.
The rain clouds started to move in, and were bringing sheet lightening with them. Mort produced 2 light barn coats, and handed Justin the tan one that matched the color of his hat. Her’s was black, of course.
“We’ll get some rain soon,
and need these.
This plain don’t get awful cold,
like the desert nights,
but it can get pretty damn cool.
This plain get’s to be plenty busy some nights too.”
She commented.
To their right in the distance a herd of mustang grazed and milled about. There was pretty Blue Roan filly on the edge of a huddle of the ponies. She saw them and neighed and nickered out. Sparks raised his head from a tasty clump of wild flowers neighing and nickering an answer to the greeting.
“Well dang Sparks,
You speak mustang pony.”
Mort said,obviously impressed.
“Yeah.
My mama was a wild mustang.
She taught me that pony speak,
and about herd life, and how to mind my manners and behave myself properly.”
“She sounds like she was a right good lady, Sparks.”
Justin said with respect, and Sparks nodded, he was back to munching wildflower.
About 100 yards ahead and off to the left side of them, whispy mist like figures the size of children ran and danced by.
“What are those, Mort?
Ghosts?”
asked Justin. Mort smiled and told him,
“Not really,
those are some of the ‘little things’ that live and play in the winds.
Like that ‘little dust devil’ we saw playing chase with the cat….they’re kinda like weather shades.
Sort of.
They’re the LITTLE ones, though.
Not the bigger fiercer Things.
You’ll meet some of ‘Them’ sooner or later.
But not tonight.
No worries.”
Justin enjoyed seeing those
‘littler weather things’
turn up, running around and dancing.
Mort could tell.
“You’re going to like it here just fine, Justin.”
The light rain began and they put on the barn coats when the wind rose.
“Oh damn Mort!
I just remembered something!”
Justin pulled his foot out of a stirrup and stretched out his leg to better dig deep into a front pocket of his jeans. He pulled out a Zippo lighter and torched it, holding it up in an offer to light the cigarette still hanging from her lips.
“Sorry!
I completely forgot I had this new fangled fancy thing they just came out with.
I picked it up at that last big lit up place I passed through.”
For a few seconds, all Mort could do was stare at him with an expression that looked liked a mixture of
‘what the hell?’
and
‘are you f******g kidding me!?’
Then she could speak again, and let him light it.
“Well now, ain’t that sh!t some kinda interestin’?”
She said with a smile and long content drag on her cigarette. She pulled a fine cigar from an inside pocket of her coat and handed it to him. They had a few more pulls of the top shelf whisky, enjoying that and the tobacco accompanying.
When the horses had eaten their fill and it was time to get, they blazed away across the plain, leaving that particular old Dodge named ‘Light Shade’ far behind.
From the heels of Plower the Greater, soft fine and rich cotton shake flew out behind them. And from the heels of Sparks the Smaller, a half-blood mustang, sputtered sparks and cracklings like it was the 4th of July.
- Wolf
(The Epiclogue Part I
“The Hill Country
And
Justin’s Job Comes”
coming soon)
Alright, Frank. Things are fixing to get really serious in what comes next….and it’s nothing as nice as ‘Serious the Grieve’.
Then in Part II of the epilogue, it lightens up again, and has got some tailor made special stuff in it. 😊
I’ve got them both almost done. 🙂😉
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Post by osnafrank on May 23, 2023 8:00:55 GMT
Great Story, wolfie, wonderful written.
It's always a pleasure to read about Mort and Justin. 
And here's my motto for today.
"Things to do,
and more hell to raise. " 
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Post by wolf on May 23, 2023 14:01:53 GMT
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Post by osnafrank on May 23, 2023 15:35:17 GMT
I always latibulate on Mondays.
Very interesting facts, wolfie, thankee. |
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Post by wolf on May 24, 2023 14:27:56 GMT
I always latibulate on Mondays.
Very interesting facts, wolfie, thankee.  and Danke Schoen Frank 😊 I needed the notes too, lol. Though the story is kind of a Phantasmic Western Horror thing, I wanted it have some accuracy and everything fit. Fixed it to where the one illustration would fit too. 😉 |
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Post by wolf on May 31, 2023 17:18:52 GMT
I always latibulate on Mondays.
Very interesting facts, wolfie, thankee. Won’t be much longer, I’ll have the next part finished. 🙂  |
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Post by osnafrank on May 31, 2023 17:21:00 GMT
I always latibulate on Mondays.
Very interesting facts, wolfie, thankee. Won’t be much longer, I’ll have the next part finished. 🙂  |
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Post by wolf on Jun 2, 2023 22:02:42 GMT
“The icing for your cake is ready for its close up Mr. DeMille!” 😆😉
“The Quietus Of Justin Chasseur”
Epilogue Part I
The Hill Country
Justin’s Job Comes
In the Hill Country of 1934, on the mortal plane, Justin and Mort walked among the seen and unseen as the seen.
Here there were far, far more cars than horses in this bigger, lit up place. Everywhere the modern conveyances regularly whizzed by, back and forth. Justin was finding that cars bothered him less. Mort still didn’t give a damn one way or another. Cars and trucks were useful, if and when needed. Walking and horses were still more than fine too, as far as she was concerned. The restaurant on Main Street would be their Friday night destination.
Once across the vast plain, and arriving at the more civilized locale, the pair found an old town matriarch, who owned a large spread on the outskirts. They stabled the horses there with her. From her place they went on foot into the city and got rooms at a good hotel.
The next day they went out to buy Justin a fitting suit of clothes. Mort approved when he chose a rich cobalt blue suit and brilliant gold satin waist coat and tie. She gave him a set of gold nugget cuff links for the fine fresh white shirt. New black hat, gun belt and boots came next.
Gradually, Mort had become more serious, more articulate, and more to the points of matters.
The time for all the talking and explaining was almost done, and the time for learning by seeing and doing fast approached.
That night at the hotel bar, Mort had for Justin the last of what he really needed to know more of.
“I’d forgotten being here before, it must have been about a hundred years ago.”
She told him, as pouring them another couple of shots.
“One of those things you forgot deliberately, Mort?”
He asked with an amused smile. Mort had to think about that for a second,
“Maybe. Hell, I can’t remember Justin!”
She laughed, then continued
“This is a hot spot, my friend.
It gets pretty active some nights, like that plain we crossed.
You’ll see a lot here,
and a mix of things too.
The hidden as well as the unhidden.
Some may be like us,
and visible to mortals.
There may be some that are not.
You’ll know them when you see them.”
“Alright.
I was wondering about something. Don’t get me wrong Mort,
you look good,
but you’re not standin’ out to folks here.
Not from what I can tell.
No one has even batted an eye at you.
And your looks and bearing are rather unusual.”
“You ought to take a better look in the mirror, next time you pass one.
You don’t look exactly like you did when we first met.
You look like ‘more’ too.
Most people,
that are mortal,
won’t see us the way we see each other.
We’ll appear to be more ordinary to those folks.”
What Justin didn’t see that mortals were seeing, was that Mort’s silver eyes appeared to be an unextraordinary azure, and her silver hair, a more common ashen color.
He also had not noticed that his own graying hair was the dark brown it once was, but now shone a deep gleaming bronze color, and his brown eyes had a golden tone and shine in them, much like the colors of the diamond like flecks of sand he saw in the dust devil, back in Light Shade.
Mort went on to say,
“Then there is also the folks that are ‘special’,
that I told you about already.
They’re the ‘sensitives’.
Some of them may see us as we are, or close to it.
We might not come by any of them, but if we do,
it won’t be anything to be concerned about.”
“What am I supposed to do, Mort?”
He asked, feeling a little uncertain of himself, but not in a bad or worrisome way.
“Like I told you before, friend.
Just live.
And enjoy yourself.
You might find you have something to do here.
Then again,
your ‘ride along’ with me,
may only be a sight seeing trip.
Don’t think on it too hard Justin,
just go with things as they happen, same way as you’ve been doing. Follow those keen instincts of yours. It’ll be alright.”
Justin smiled and nodded.
“Alright, Mort.
But you put me to good use,
if I miss seeing something I should do.”
“I do sincerely doubt that will be necessary.
But we’ll see how interesting things get.”
She laughed softly,
They drank and rested. Falling into one of the long comfortable silences, they were beginning to have, and enjoy, more and more often.
Friday night came.
The nice restaurant, Le Cheval Pâle, owned and operated by a Cajun Chef from Louisiana, was pleasantly abuzz with music, and the low conversation and laughter of Friday night patrons. Mort and Justin took a table along the wall close to the front door. A good spot, where the crowd could be surveyed, and evaluated.
Mort was already aware of everyone in the room, and who or what they were. She was early for the night’s appointment. There was one really big burly guy in particular that she watched. Keeping a careful eye on him, Mort was. Something about him pissed her off and was wanting to get her in a really bad mood, she thought to herself, privately,
‘That is surely one big, a**h*le lookin’ motherfucker. A real thug.’
Justin did exactly as Mort had told him to do the night before. Taking in everything around them, he saw a trio of vampires at a table in the far left corner from them. They were watching 3 men in particular, who were seated at a table in the corner opposite them. At the right of Justin and Mort’s table along the front entrance wall.
Justin didn’t know how he knew they were vampires, but he did and he could tell that they were unhidden in every way. Vampires almost always were, they tended to blend in more than a lot of other ‘Others’. The men they seemed to be targeting, he looked over longer and more carefully. They were of the seen and unseen. Justin (as had Mort) could see the faint glow of the outline of their forcefully concealed wings, where no one else in the restaurant could. Except for one old mortal in the far right corner.
Same as the traveling companions, that man could see them as they were, and was aware of the vampires as well. Though he didn’t know exactly what those Things were, like Justin knew. He had been sitting at his table reading some book, and was drinking what Mort called, “that damn green devil piss”. Absinthe. The old man hadn’t seen her or noticed her good friend. Yet.
Of everyone in the place, there was one man with slicked back hair and a pencil line thin mustache, that Justin watched closely.
And the one young woman the man discreetly had his eye on. She was dressed in an elegant; powder blue silk evening dress, and appeared to be waiting for someone.
The recently deceased and risen cowboy did not like his looks at all, or the way he looked at her. Especially the way he looked at her. Something about that man in the charcoal suit and burgundy ascot, caused his stomach to turn vaguely, and his skin to feel like it was trying to crawl off somewhere.
Sipping her wine and keeping eyes on the front windows and doors, the lady was totally unaware that she was prey being stalked. She got her waiter’s attention and said something to him, then got up from her table for 2, and made way through the crowded room, to the back hallway lavatories, just past the kitchen.
The Burgundy Ascot…
(there was something about that red tie too, that disturbed Justin greatly, though he couldn’t put a finger on what it was)
…caught the Big Thug’s eye and gave him a nod of approval. He waited about a minute, then got up himself, and went down the same hallway after her. The Bruiser was right behind him.
In that moment, Justin had a sudden and appalling series of vision images blare across his mind. Painful sights of women, and a few men, being bound in a horrific variety of ways with barbed wire. Their bodies were also shockingly slashed and gouged, mutilated beyond belief. It all came to him in a rush. An assault of horrible sights and sounds that wounded the mind and devastated the heart. The unspeakable atrocities Justin saw, made Jack the Ripper’s crimes look like the handiwork of a cub scout. They filled Justin with a ferocious seething anger. His brown eyes lit, and they shone a sharp gold that was somehow strangely ‘freezing’. He quietly and calmly said to Mort coldly,
“I’ll be right back.”
as he rose out of his chair and left their dinner table, to pursue the Murdering Rapist.
The vampires didn’t notice a thing, but the Angels did. Their eyes glowed blue, green and yellow, as did their wings, when Justin got up and followed. The Old Man drinking Absinthe, noticed too. Looking over his spectacles to see more clearly, he saw the lady. Than the two men after her. And Justin after them. He put his book down and reached into one of his blazer’s outer pockets. From it he brought out a deck of cards, larger than ordinary playing cards. He gave them a quick, but thorough, shuffle. Carefully and slowly he drew one and put it face up on the table in front of him. It was ‘The Tower’ card.
Staring at it, he thought for a moment, before carefully drawing the next. He turned it over and lay it down beside the first. It was the ‘Death’ card. On seeing it, he was compelled to look up and across the room.
Mort’s silver eyes captured his, and would not let go. She wasn’t interested in reading his mind, but she let him hear her think, as she gave him a small polite nod,
“Sometimes the good guys wear black hats, friend.
You be careful when playing with ‘the little green devil in the bottle’
and that Tarot deck.
You might see more than you really want to.”
She glanced down at her glass and picked it up to drink. Over its rim she saw the humbled old man return her small, polite nod and submissively look down to gather the cards up from the table top. He put them away and went back to reading his book, and minding his own business.
At the end of the hallway the Big Thug stood, obediently barring a back door of the restaurant, like he’d been paid to do. He had no idea what was going on, on the other side of it. He didn’t care and didn’t want to know, quite the mercenary was he.
Justin approached and stood before him, his stance stalwart. A deadly expression on his face and in his eyes, as they glowed that oddly icy, brown gold. With bone chilling stolidity he spoke one single word quietly.
“Leave.”
The huge man guarding the door felt an immense coldness and fear surge through him and he fled. He barreled around and past the man clad in blue and gold, and bolted through the restaurant. He passed Mort, who contemptuously ignored him, and burst through the front doors.
As though he’d run into an invisible brick wall, the Bruiser was halted. Outside a black cowboy, his own height, was waiting.
“Cool your heels there, mister….”
Leon was on the job, and not smiling big and bright. He took the thug’s arm in one powerful hand and walked him down the sidewalk away from Le Cheval Pâle.
“…..We have some important business to discuss, you and I.”
This night, there was no soft laughter for him, in The Parlayer’s voice. He slapped a hand on the Thugs shoulder, as they walked he told him,
“You better have changed your damned ways, by the time you meet me, or someone like me, again.”
His path unblocked, Justin opened the back door.
The poor young woman had been accosted while leaving the lav to return to her table. She was now on the back alley’s cobble stone floor, cruelly held down on her back, by the murderer’s knees pinning her upper arms. Her cries and crying were reduced to faint but frantic muffles by the red ascot shoved in her mouth and nearly down her throat. Fear and panic had her struggling hard for air, she could barely breathe.
The Murderer held a long thin carving knife in one hand, with the free hand he dug into a coat pocket, retrieving a beloved tool of his particularly unique trade. He held it tight, admiring it like it was a prized possession.
The coil of barbed wire bit into his palm and the pads of his fingers, drawing blood. The murderer shuddered sickly with a grotesque excitement….for his bleeding and pain. And doubly for the pains, and blood, he thought he was about to inflict, and spill.
“Get off and away from her.
Now.”
Justin said, as the twisted bastard was about to raise the knife to one of her ears. Instead he stood up on his knees and turned toward the stranger’s voice. He never saw the cowboy draw. Justin shot out his elbow, sending the knife he held clattering to the ground. The killer resisted the intense urge to scream out, he grunted with the pain and effort to remain as silent as possible. He got to his feet and started towards the stranger. Justin shot out his knee next. He fell to the ground in agony, unable to hold that scream back. Justin walked forward quickly, looking down he told him,
“I’m not here for you.
Someone else will be ‘round to collect you shortly.”
He took a page out of Mort’s rule book and kicked the sh!t out of the shattered knee as he stepped over him to get to the woman and help her up.
Being so awfully traumatized, she couldn’t even speak, let alone scream. The red ascot lay on the ground beside her. She was afraid of Justin at first, and tried to back away from him.
“I’m not going to hurt you.
Let me take you back inside.”
She took the hand he held out to her, and he got her up and back to the restaurant door, opening it.
Mort had an appointment to meet.
He knew her immediately as she stepped out into the alley, though she looked quite different. She was dressed the same, but her entire attire was a frightening, impossibly bottomless pitch black, that looked and felt like you would fall into it if you got too close. Her skin was paler, her face bonier. Under her wide brimmed hat, her hair and eyes were the color of gun metal that shone a menacing deep indigo in the moonlight. The only thing that remained the same were the silver guns with black grips. By the looks of her, Mort wasn’t going to be anything like the ‘herself’ he had met, and come to know.
“Have at him, Mort.”
He whispered as he escorted the young woman past her and back into the hallway.
In the hall he helped her get her torn dress arranged. The back of it was ripped open when the villain grabbed her and drug her outside.
Justin took his jacket off and placed it over her shoulders. His deadly fast hands were now strong and gentle. It hurt his heart as well as anger him, that such a small and defenseless lady had been mauled and brutalized that way. He told her,
“You’re safe.
No one is going to hurt you now.”
She did her best to choke down scalding tears and regain some composure.
“I was waiting for my fiancé.
He should be here….”
She nearly burst into tears again.
“You can sit at our table to wait for him.
My friend is busy with something, but she’ll return soon.
I’m sure of it.
I’ll have the Maitre d bring your things from the other table.”
Hearing that helped, and she took his arm when he held his elbow out to her, allowing Justin the Intercessor to escort her down the hallway and back to the dining room.
Outside, the murderer took one look at the frightening woman who had stepped through the doorway, and struggled to get to his feet. Panic overcame him, he hobbled away from her as fast as he could, towards the only hope of refuge he could find. A gas streetlight’s illumination at the end of the alley. The ‘light’ wasn’t going to save him now, he’d been living and working in the blackest places of darkness for far too long….and far too happily.
“Oh, look at you.
You’re going to try and run from me.”
Death’s long arm reached out, at the end of it was a bony white hand that had long gun metal black claws for fingers. The claws sank like fangs into the flesh at the scruff of his neck. She snatched him up like a rag, and slammed him back down on the bloody alley stones, where Justin had first felled him. She got down on one knee between his spread legs, taking him by the throat.
The killer was caught and he knew it, he had no escape. He shoved the panic down deep, and mustered the last bit of defiance and arrogance he had.
He spat out at her furiously,
“Demon BITCH.”
“They always get the bitch part right.”
Laughed Mort sardonically.
Then fiercely, she sneered
“I’m no Demon, a**h*le.”
She raised an arm up in the air, the hand attached to it now had a forefinger again, and it was pointing skyward,
“I am one of HIS Things.”
She seethed at him,
“Anything an evil Demon can do,
an Angel of GOD can do BETTER.”
She picked up the barb-wire, and began twining it around his head.
She snarled gutturally,
“How befitting that pain and Death, come to a murdering rapist bastard like you, in the form of a woman.”
The barb-wire was so tightly wound around his head, and in his mouth, that his tongue bled profusely, and he thought he could feel the barbs biting into his spine. Now HE could barely breathe, with the blood filling his mouth and throat. She began wrapping the wire around his wrists and arms… and so on…
“KNOW your crimes.”
Death viciously growled at him, her breath on his face was nigh unto frigid arctic air. Her glowing gunmetal eyes had indigo flames burning in them. He couldn’t look away from them, no matter how hard he tried. It all happened very quickly.
Staring at him, she picked up the long carving knife, sinking it into his inner thigh. She twisted it, and turned it ‘round and round, again and again, decimating the femoral artery. Blood spurted wildly, when she jerked the blade back out. Spray and droplets flew at her pants leg, but didn’t splatter or stain. The viscous sanguine spoor flew into the impossible black void of her garb and disappeared. It would only take 3 minutes for him to bleed out.
In the eyes of Death, she showed him all the sickening evils he had committed. Starting with those of his childhood. Mort always did have a special kind of loathing for ‘the bad seeds’, too often did they turn out to be some of the very worst of evil A**hole*. The murderer would ‘know’ the crimes he was so gravely guilty of. He not only would see each one, he would relive them…..and relive them as THE VICTIMS.
In the spanse of that present’s 3 minutes were all the terrors and agonies, and within’ the 3 minutes were crammed 3 hours, and within those 3 hours were packed in 33 years. And then it was over. The murderer fell back out of Death’s death-grip. He was done-quit and dead, his face hauntingly frozen in a twisted grimace of utter terror and excruciating pain.
Mort had met the appointment right on time.
“And that is merely a TASTE of what you’ve got coming, you sadistic vile villain, Evil.”
The soul reeked unspeakably. At its inert cadaver Mort spat out a single iron coin with contempt and disgust. The iron fell into the gaping mouth and adhered neatly to the tongue. The silently screaming grievous soul was trapped inside.
Mort got up and walked back into the restaurant. When Justin saw her walking towards them, she was herself. Silver haired and eyed, and armed with Silver.
The gruesome Ghoulish Grieves would come. And when they did, they would simply rob him, skitter-hop dance away, and leave the whole of him behind to go to the grave. And when in the grave, some Thing or Things worse, far more fearsome and ferocious, than the who or what that collected the bronze coins
from the wicked hearted bad-seed Upstart that Justin Chasseur had slain,
would reach up from further below to claim the iron coin. And to take that soul to itself and places unimaginably horrendous. Places were fear, pain and Atrocity not only dwelt, but reigned.
Because of a frightened anonymous man’s voice over the telephone, authorities were alerted to the dead villain lying in the alleyway, and to the condition his corpse was in.
At the scene of the killer’s obvious execution, the local police were accompanied by a U.S. Marshal and 2 Texas Rangers. The Marshal and Rangers had been on the killer’s trail for sometime, and had almost caught up to him.
Numerous murder victims no longer cried out for avenging. A multitude of cases were finished and closed. A notorious predator had been put quit to. Finding his killer was not a priority.
- Wolf
(Epilogue Part II coming soon.)
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Post by osnafrank on Jun 3, 2023 14:08:28 GMT
That was f******g great, wolfie.
Damn, Justin really is a Gunslinger.
The part in the Restaurant, and the
part with Mort and the Killer....just awesome. 
Excellent work
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Post by wolf on Jun 4, 2023 0:39:47 GMT
🤣….I thought you’d like that. 😂😉
I am pleased that you are so pleased, Boss. 😄
Thank you, generous praise. ☺️
 …..
Notes to self : 1. Frank likes Mean Bitches and mules. 2. Like R.I.P.D’s ‘Proctor’, Frank ‘likes violence’. (rofl) Got to keep that in my mind, for the next b-day. 😆 (rofl)
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Post by osnafrank on Jun 4, 2023 16:22:43 GMT
🤣….I thought you’d like that. 😂😉
I am pleased that you are so pleased, Boss. 😄
Thank you, generous praise. ☺️
…..
Notes to self : 1. Frank likes Mean Bitches and mules. 2. Like R.I.P.D’s ‘Proctor’, Frank ‘likes violence’. (rofl) Got to keep that in my mind, for the next b-day. 😆 (rofl) |
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Post by wolf on Jun 18, 2023 20:15:20 GMT
🤣….I thought you’d like that. 😂😉
I am pleased that you are so pleased, Boss. 😄
Thank you, generous praise. ☺️
…..
Notes to self : 1. Frank likes Mean Bitches and mules. 2. Like R.I.P.D’s ‘Proctor’, Frank ‘likes violence’.   Got to keep that in my mind, for the next b-day. 😆 I’ll finish the very last part soon. Yeah. I know epilogues aren’t supposed to be so damn long, but I don’t give a damn, lol. I got good reason for doing the story that way. 😊😉 |
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😊 
and Danke Schoen Frank 😊
…..