Earthbound (13 page)

Charon wasn’t a pale horse though. He was as
black as my hat. Way cooler than a pasty pale horse. Like “Lewis
Clark.” Stupid name.

“I just like black,” I finally replied. I
didn’t feel like going into the whole story.

“I like white myself,” Pace said. I looked
over and sure enough his hat was white. Never paid it much mind.
“It’s hard to keep it clean, of course. It shows off dirt. I used
to just buy new ones all the time. Maybe I will again. You know,
white hats are supposed to signify the good guys, and black hats
are supposed to be for the bad guys.”

“Sounds about right. Except we’re both bank
robbers you know. Maybe you should buy a black hat.”

Pace thought about that for a second. “Want
to switch? At least I can see how a black hat feels.”

We swapped. He flopped my big hat over his
small head, and the brim went past his eyebrows. I tried his on.
Had to hold it with one hand. There was no way it was ever gonna
fit.

Pace seemed disappointed. He took off my hat
and we swapped again. “I don’t think I like black,” he decided.

“Could just be the size.”

“Could be.”

“You know what they say about hat size. It
mirrors the size of your-“

“-that’s bullshit,” he interrupted
hurriedly.

“Getting a little testy there, huh?”

“I’m perfectly well endowed. Just ask pretty
much any girl you ever met.”

I laughed. I know he’s not much for lying,
but it sure sounded like he was exaggerating. As for me? I have an
effing anaconda down there, if you really want to know.

I let him suffer in the silence for a moment
before I finally spoke again. “I don’t think you’re meant to wear a
black hat. Guess that means your bank robbing days are over.”

“That would be… boring.”

A bird caught my attention flying high above.
A bald eagle. Such a powerful bird.

“So you think Lewis Clark is a stupid name?”
Pace asked. I nodded. “Aw hell, you’re right. You know, the
Blackfoot Indians were the ones who first settled around here, as
far as I know. The Blackfoot deserve some respect. They actually
got into a fight with Lewis and Clark. Didn’t work out too well for
them, I think. I’ll call my horse Blackfoot. Work for you?”

I glanced down at his horse’s hooves. “He’s
white.”

“Aw hell. You don’t have to be so
literal.”

Soon, we started to see the Augusta
settlement on the horizon. Abutted up against a mountain range, it
seemed like we reached the edge of the world.

Augusta was known for its farming, and the
terrain did seem hospitable. Several reservoirs helped provide them
with plenty of water. Great Falls had the edge on fishing and
cattle, no doubt about that, but Augusta always had better crops.
When our trading contingent returned with their fresh corn and
grain, it was always a good day.

As we could see the faint outlines of
Augusta’s small buildings and houses, Pace quizzed me about our
story. I got it. It was pretty brilliant really. Pace can have
brilliant plans when he put his mind to it. And if we were lucky,
no one would suspect a thing.

We dismounted so we could put the finishing
touches on his plan.

“Okay,” I said gamely. “The jaw’s good, right
here. Try to draw blood.” I stuck out my chin and waited for the
blow. I knew it wouldn’t hurt too much. And when Pace’s fist
connected, it didn’t hurt at all. And no blood. “Come on! You gotta
make this look good!”

“I’m trying!” Pace insisted. He got this
determined look on his face and connected with my lip. Okay, good
enough, the lip would swell up, maybe get a little purple, maybe
show a little blood. Then I leaned down and rubbed dirt over my
clothes. They were already dirty so I didn’t need to do much to be
convincing.

“Your turn,” I said. “Where do you want
it?”

Pace kind of turned pale. It was his plan,
but I guess he didn’t really think about how getting punched in the
face was a part of it. “How about my left arm?”

“That’s not gonna show a bruise. It’s gotta
be somewhere they can see it. Less you want me to break it and we
can put it in a sling.” Pace shook his head furiously. “I could
shoot you if you want.”

“Don’t even joke about it!”

“Okay, then maybe I should punch you right
here where it’ll show.” I pointed to a prime spot on his cheek. He
backed away and put his arms up.

“That doesn’t work for me. Can’t we do
something else?”

“Fine,” I said. I knew he’d chicken out of
that part anyway. Instead I took his precious white hat off his
head and threw it into the dirt. Then I stomped on it and made sure
it was filthy.

Pace protested. “Hey! I love that hat!”

“You still get to wear it.” I plopped it back
on his head. Then I helped him smear dirt over the rest of his
clothes. Then I found some mud and caked it on his cheeks.

“There!” Pace announced proudly. “Do I look
like I was in a fight?”

“Not really but good enough.”

We remounted and continued toward
Augusta.

“You don’t think they have robots in Augusta
do you?” I asked.

“I doubt it. But I didn’t think they had
robots in Great Falls either.” Pace’s words were not comforting.
But then he changed the subject. “I’ve got another name.
Flashbound.”

“What’s it mean?”

“I dunno. My horse is fast, so he can get
where he’s going in a flash.”

Charon was faster, I knew that, but no doubt
the name was good. And it stuck.

“Oh my goodness! What happened to you
boys?”

A kindly middle-aged woman rushed over to our
horses, and several other townsfolk followed. Pace was slumped over
his horse, pretending like he was on his death bed or something.
Pretty good acting job, I gotta say. Me, I’m not one for looking
weak. So instead I just sat upright, letting the dirt and my
swollen lip tell the story for me. I held onto Flashbound’s reins,
giving the impression that Pace was too injured to guide his horse.
What an eyesore we two were.

Some of the Augusta men pulled Pace off of
Flashbound and laid him on the ground. A few of the girls gave him
aid, holding his head and pouring water into his mouth. His eyes
opened slightly. I knew what he was doing. He was getting a look at
these girls to see if any were attractive. One no doubt was. So he
winced in pain and started moaning. Like I said. Pretty good acting
job.

“What happened?” one of the Augusta men asked
me.

“We’re the trading delegation from Great
Falls. We got ambushed maybe thirty miles back. They beat us up
pretty bad. Took our wagon. Everything we were gonna trade –
gone.”

The kindly citizens of Augusta stared at one
another. Nothing like that had ever happened before.

Another Augusta man sauntered up. He wore a
shiny badge on the lapel of his jacket. As we’d soon learn, he was
the lawman in town. “Were they armed?” he asked with authority.

“Yup,” I replied. “Shot at us but fortunately
they didn’t connect.”

Pace sputtered, pretending like it was a
struggle to speak. “I think they didn’t kill us on purpose. They
wanted us to make it here so you’d know who did it.”

The lawman kneeled down beside Pace, and the
girls made room for him. “Who did this, son?”

Pace grabbed hold of the lawman’s lapels for
dramatic effect. “Did you hear of the two men who robbed the bank
in Great Falls?”

“I sure did. But I heard they were just a
couple of troublemakers. Not the type to do this.”

“No! They sure are. And they’re huge! The
size of bears almost!” Pace was having his fun creating his own
legend. “You’re the lawman around here, right? You’ve got to send a
posse! You’ve got to stop them-” And then, again for dramatic
effect, Pace “fainted.”

I talked to the lawman at length, giving him
misleadingly detailed descriptions of our ambushers. I also learned
that the lawman knew a fair amount already. He knew our names, had
pretty vague descriptions, and had been told we were likely heading
south toward Helena. Of course, we’d just placed ourselves between
Augusta and Great Falls, so I made a point of saying that our
ambushers headed north toward Conrad with our supplies. The lawman
bought it all, including the idea of collecting a posse. He even
asked me if I wanted to go along, since I seemed able bodied. But I
declined, only so that I could see to the welfare and benefit of my
friend.

I did watch the lawman ride off, along with
about eight other rifle-toting men. And, in the process, I watched
as the only man likely to figure us out left town. We’d have
several days, maybe a week before they’d get back. And we’d likely
be long gone too, just in case they stopped at Great Falls and got
a better detailed description of us – and also found out that they
hadn’t sent out a trade delegation over the past few weeks.

I walked over to the house where Pace was
being cared for. I removed my hat and wiped horse shit off my boots
respectfully before I entered. It was a comfortable house, kept
warm with a nice fire. The husband and wife whose house it was
introduced themselves to me.

“I’m Bill Norris and this is my wife
Eleanor.” We shook hands.

“My name’s Monroe,” I said with conviction.
“James Monroe.”

“Ah, named after the U.S. President I
see!”

I silently cursed out Pace. He gave me a fake
name after a President. How was I supposed to know that?

Mr. Norris announced that he had an extra
room where Pace and I could stay for a few nights until he was back
up on his feet. They’d had a son before and that room had been
empty for some time. I followed them into that room, where Pace was
lying on the bed in “agony.” They had a daughter who sat next to
the bed, dabbing away at the dirt on his face with a cloth. She was
the same good looking girl who attended to Pace’s injuries when we
arrived. Coincidence? Perhaps not. This girl was not spoken for,
which was surprising given her beauty. Something I noticed was
there were not as many eligible young men in Augusta as there were
in Great Falls. Men had their pick. The other girls in town must’ve
been something if this beautiful girl was without a husband. That
could be a very good thing if we settled down in Augusta. That is,
if we even could.

Their doctor had been to see Pace and rightly
couldn’t figure out anything wrong with him. So he chalked it up to
psychological injuries. Nothing a good bath and a few days worth of
rest couldn’t cure.

“You okay, Lewis?” I asked Pace. He named
himself after that Lewis and Clark guy. Name didn’t work for his
horse but he still liked it. Whatever.

“So… weak…” Pace moaned.

“Let’s let him rest,” Mrs. Norris suggested.
“Grace, why don’t you show this fine young gentleman where he can
freshen up.”

So the lovely young gal’s name was Grace. She
smiled graciously and kinda batted her eyelashes at me as she led
me back outside. As I followed her to the outhouse, I checked out
her figure from behind. It was a fine fine sight to see.

Grace led me inside what was perhaps one of
the finer outhouses I’d ever seen. Perhaps the Norris family was of
money, or at least modestly so. They didn’t seem to be starving.
Grace had too curvy a figure for that. She laid out some towels for
me, and then ran the water, soaked a washcloth and tried to get
some of the grime off of my face.

“You’re quite the mess,” she said,
giggling.

“No need for you to do that,” I protested.
But then I hesitated. Why not let her?

She removed my coat and got a look at my
dirty shirt. “That looks ruined,” she said. “I’ll try to clean it
but I’ll likely need to throw it away.” She started to unbutton my
shirt. Yeah, I liked Augusta. Kind of a lot. When she got my shirt
off, I caught her looking at my chest and muscles. She blushed a
little bit. “I should leave you to bathe. But if you need
anything…”

Yeah, I could use something all right. But
instead I just washed myself in their basin. I was a little too big
to fit in it properly, but it was good enough. I was relieved to
wash the smell off me, actually.

Grace left me some clean clothes which were a
little tight. Once belonged to her brother, I supposed. They’d fit
Pace better but at least they were clean.

After that I checked in on our horses. They
were being well cared for in their stables. Charon was being
re-shoed as I entered. I was glad too, after all that robot metal
and broken glass he had stomped over recently.

Then I joined the Norris family for dinner.
Miraculously, Pace found himself well enough to join us at the
dinner table. Must’ve been the fresh poultry he smelled cooking.
Most of the dinner chatter was about the wonderful progress “Lewis”
was making.