The Barrens & Others (24 page)

I wandered over to where he stood. He had a round face made wider by bushy sideburns. He looked tired. Why not? He had been drilling the teeth of my former patients all day.

I was about to say hello when I noticed that he was missing a part of his left fifth digit – the terminal phalanx was gone! As I gaped at the shiny pink dome of fresh scar tissue where his first knuckle should have been, I heard Squaw Jones's voice in my head:

...Find man with missing piece...

I was too shocked for subtlety.

"Your finger! What happened to it?"

He jumped at the sound of my voice and his complexion faded a couple of shades as he looked at me.

"Hello, John. My finger? Why... why nothing happened to it. Why do you ask?"

"I never noticed that you had a... piece missing before now. When did it happen?"

He smiled, regaining his composure. "Oh, that. An old accident when I was in school back east. An industrial accident, you might say. I caught it in a defective drilling machine."

I couldn't take my eyes from that foreshortened digit. "The scar tissue doesn't look that old."

"An old injury, do you hear?" He was becoming agitated. "Very old. Very, very old!"

The obvious freshness of the scar and Dr. Elliot's overwrought behavior sent a stream of ice water running through my arteries.

...When find man with missing piece, you find enemy...

"Yes, of course," I said. "Very old. Of course."

He thrust his hand into his pocket.

I fled the saloon and ran to the stable. I saddled my horse and rode out to where Squaw Jones made her camp.

*

"So now Doctor Holliday believe in curse of Untethered Tongue," she said, nodding and smiling with smug satisfaction.

"Not completely," I said. "Let's just say I disbelieve in it less than I did this afternoon."

Her tent was dim, the air inside steamy and layered with reminders of past meals, strangely spiced.

"But I just can't believe," I said, "that one of my colleagues, a fellow dental practitioner, would be so unethical as to use such scurrilous means to build his practice at my expense!"

"You would never do such thing?"

"Never! I am an ethical practitioner!"

"And what is your wish, Dr. Holliday?"

"To have the curse – if that's what it is – lifted."

"By this squaw?"

"Of course. That's why I'm here."

"Want thirteen ounces gold for ending Untethered Tongue."

"Thirteen oun–?"

"This squaw know it very small price for saving Doctor Holliday's honor, but her heart is touched by his misfortune." She cleared her throat. "Please pay in metal, not bills."

I'd hidden away significantly more than that amount of gold from the fillings I'd removed over the years. But thirteen ounces!

"I'd want a guarantee."

"Nothing sure in magic, Doctor Holliday."

I rose from my seat and started for the door. "I'm sorry. I can't allow myself to be made into a fool." I was bluffing. I bluffed well in poker, even back then, and had little doubt I could get her to back down. But she kept quiet, waiting until my hand closed on the doorknob before she spoke. She did not, however, say the words I was hoping for.

"For three more ounces, maybe this squaw can turn bad medicine back on one who start it."

As I said before: A sly old bird. I had taken the bait, now she set the hook. A gamble of sixteen ounces, but suddenly I didn't care. I wanted to get even.

I returned to my chair.

"Can you really do that?"

She nodded. "If Doctor Holliday make sacrifice."

"Sacrifice? Wait a second here. I–"

"Must have no fear."

"I'll have no fear as long as I have my revenge."

She smiled and rubbed her hands together. "This is good."

"What do I have to do?"

"Doctor Holliday must give three things. First thing closely touches maker of Untethered Tongue. You know who he is?"

"Dr. Elliot," I said. "No doubt about it. But just how 'closely' must this thing touch?"

"Very close. Underclothes. Pen."

I considered that for a moment. How on Earth was I going to handle that? How was I going to get a hold of a pair of Elliot's underwear? Maybe a sock would do.

No matter. I'd find away.

"What else do you need?"

"Need small amount of Doctor Holliday's liquid."

"Liquid?" This was getting more cliched by the minute. "You mean blood?"

She shook her head. She seemed embarrassed. "Fluid that only man can give."

"I don't understand–" I began. And then I did. "What kind of magic is this?"

"Very, very old."

"Really. And what if I were a woman?"

"We wait for your time of month."

"I see." I found it difficult to believe that I was sitting here having a serious conversation about this.

She cleared her throat again. "The sample – you can give soon?"

I squared my shoulders. "Of course. And the third thing?"

"This squaw will tell when you bring first two."

I wasn't sure I liked the sound of that, but I couldn't turn back now. I had stepped over the edge and had left the safe and sane world behind; I was now adrift in the world of the magical and the irrational. Squaw Jones's world. I had to trust her as a guide.

*

Early the next morning I was at the hotel next to my office eating eggs and potatoes. I've never liked eggs and potatoes, but I was there because Elliot was there. I raged silently as I watched him storing up on his nourishment before a busy day of drilling the teeth of my patients.

I was in a black mood. I had been by his rooming house earlier but had found none of his laundry around. I'd been tempted to break into his quarters but was afraid I'd get caught. I couldn't risk that, with Wyatt still mad at me.

As I watched him, he stirred his coffee and licked the spoon dry before placing it on the tablecloth. A neat man. A fastidious man. I felt like running over and wringing his –

The spoon.

I almost shouted out loud. That's it! The spoon! It had been in his mouth! What contact could be more "close" than being in someone's mouth?

I waited until he finished his meal and departed, then hurried over to his table, just beating the serving girl to it. She gave me a strange look as I darted in front of her and grabbed his spoon off the tray, but I simply continued on my way without a backward glance, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

The hard part was over. I headed across the street to the back rooms at the Forty-Niner. Miss Lily would be waking up just about now. For a nominal fee, she'd help me obtain the second ingredient. This was the easy part.

*

"Now what?" I said as I held out the spoon and a small cup of cloudy liquid to Squaw Jones.

She made no move to take them from me. "You have gold?"

"Yes." I pulled a leather pouch from my coat pocket. "Sixteen ounces, as agreed."

I held my breath as she loosened the drawstring and looked inside. My larcenous heart had prevailed on me to cheat her of her payment. No gold for Squaw Jones. Instead I'd made nuggets of lead and coated them with the gold colored material I used for my fake gold fillings. They wouldn't stand close inspection.

She looked inside, gauged the weight of the bag in her hand, then nodded.

"Is good." The pouch disappeared inside her serape and then she took the two ingredients from me. "Now this squaw make mix. Doctor Holliday wait outside."

"What about the third ingredient?"

She smiled. "Soon, Doctor Holliday. Must be patient."

I stepped outside her tent. It was difficult to be patient knowing that Dr. Elliot was busy in his office working on my patients while my office door was locked.

After what seemed like hours, Squaw Jones called me back in. I found her sitting there with a cup of steaming liquid.

"Now time for third ingredient. The sacrifice."

"What sort of sacrifice?" I didn't like the sound of this one bit.

"Small part of you. Something Doctor Holliday will not miss, but something that will not grow back."

"Wait just a minute!" I said. I'd heard about deals like this where you make a trade for "something you'll never miss" and I didn't want to fall into that trap! "We're not talking about my soul, are we?"

She laughed. "No! Only small piece of flesh. Token for gods. Dr. Elliot gave finger."

"How did you know that?"

"You told this squaw last night."

"Did I? I don't remember."

"You did. Doctor Holliday must make same sacrifice if he wish bad medicine go away."

Something that won't grow back. That left out hair and fingernail clippings. I certainly didn't want to lose a part of a finger – I didn't approve of public deformity.

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

She shrugged. "Without sacrifice, Dr. Elliot will not feel curse of Unhindered Hands."

"'Unhindered Hands'? Just what is that?"

"Like Untethered Tongue. As Doctor Holliday's lips now speak what he wish kept hidden in heart, Doctor Elliot's hands will do things he only wish to do."

The thought of Dr. Elliot's hands acting upon whatever physical desires occurred to him, to be no more able to restrain his hands than I had been able to restrain my tongue delighted me.

Then I thought of something neither I nor anyone else would miss –

"How about my little toe?"

"It is good," she said.

"How do we do this?"

Following her directions, I removed the boot and sock from my left foot and held it over the steaming liquid.

"Dip toe."

Feeling like a fool for going through this hocus-, yet hating myself for not having the nerve to call the whole thing off and take my chances with my unruly tongue, I dipped my little toe into the cup.

"Enough," she said after a moment. She withdrew the cup and handed me a dirty cloth. "Dry toe."

I scrutinized my left fifth toe. It looked just like the others, only wet.

"Something's wrong!" I said. "I thought I was supposed to 'sacrifice' this toe! Nothing happened!"

"Patience, Doctor Holliday. Patience."

I was convinced now that I was being hoodwinked. I quickly rubbed my toe dry and rose to my feet.

"This is a farce! I'm glad I didn't give you any real gold!"

Her head snapped around. She stared at me. "Gold not real?"

"No. So you can call off this whole charade."

"Too late. Medicine is made. Curse begins."

"But my toe–"

I looked down at my left foot. There were only four toes. All that remained of my tenth toe was a small pink bulge of fresh scar tissue.

"Where–?"

I opened the cloth and there was my toe. As I watched, it fumed and melted into a pink fluid that was absorbed by the cloth. The odor made me want to gag.

Squaw Jones was pawing through the bag of fake gold nuggets. "Doctor Holliday trick this squaw?"

"Why not? You're probably the one who got me in this fix in the first place. You're playing both sides of street."

She approached me, menace in her eyes. I kept watch on her hands, making sure both were in sight. They were: clutching the pouch of fake gold. He face came within inches of mine. She stared at me.

Then she coughed. Once.

"Return to your office, Doctor Holliday. Curse of Untethered Tongue is broken; curse of Unhampered Hands begin. Squaw Jones cannot change that now."

I glanced down at my four-toed foot again and realized I was rapidly becoming a believer. With boot and sock in hand, I hurried from Squaw Jones's tent.

"But you will pay another way!" she called after me.

*

The first patient to show up was Mr. O'Toole. My private name for him was "Mr. O'Stool"–he had a bowel fixation which he blamed on his bad teeth. He spent most office visits describing his movements. He was a bore but he came every two weeks for new filling.

But I got through the visit with no problem. I'd had an urge to tell him that I thought he was suffering from a fecal impaction that had backed up to his brain but the remark remained within my mind while my mouth offered bland reassurances.

I drilled his latest imaginary cavity and fairly danced out of the examining room.

I've done it! I've broken the curse!

I went to the front window in my waiting room and looked across the street at Dr. Elliot's office. I whispered:

"I've beaten you, Elliot! Beaten you at your own game!"

As I watched, I saw Bonnie Pontiac come racing out of Dr. Elliot's office, trying to cover her bobbing, exposed breasts with one hand while holding up her ripped skirt with the other. In close pursuit, with a piece of Bonnie's torn bodice clutched in his teeth, was Dr. Elliot. And right behind the two of them was the widow Porter, swinging her handbag. She caught Dr. Elliot full force in the back of the head with a swing and he went down. Then she stood over him and began pounding him with the bag.