1
In the green fields of the Dakotas, during the late stages of the winter solstice, a brawny, young figure, no more than 20 years old, rode on a pale mule saddling along a long, lonesome, dusty road. The young, brown-haired man wore a gray fabric poncho and dark clothes underneath it, and heavy wool pants with leather straps attached to it, wrapped around the shoulders of his black sweater. His leather furred gloves kept his hands warm as he guided his mule through the unforgiving wind and freezing weather. Underneath the gray slouch hat, his tanned face was now pale and weary. His bloodied hand was clenching to the side of his stomach.
The young man was dying, and he needed a doctor fast.
He looked up and saw the entrance of a town in the distance. There was a sign above the wooded entrance, but the young man’s vision was blurry.
His white mule took a few paces to the town entrance before the young man fell off his saddle and collapsed onto the road.
He laid on his back, staring at the clouded sky, too weak to get up, waiting for the inevitable, when someone came to the thin man’s field of vision. He could barely make out the figure to be a small boy with blonde hair, wearing blue overalls. The young man tried to speak, to ask the boy to get help, but only faint groans came out from his mouth.
The boy left the young man’s sight and started yelling, “Mom! Mom! There’s a man bleeding here!”
Soon, the world began to fade from the young man’s eyes, and he slipped into darkness.
***
The young man awoke and found himself in a bed, lying under the sheets. The room he was in was pitch black. The howling wind roared by the window next to the bed on his right. A small light peeking underneath the door of his bedroom caught the young man’s attention. He kept his eye on it until the door opened, revealing a blonde-haired woman, 10 years older than him, holding an oil lamp to her face.
The woman at the door noticed the stranger was awake and approached him. “Evenin’, mister,” she said. “Yer lucky my son spotted ya outside the northern entrance of this town. Another minute longer and you woulda been dead and buried by now with no name on yer tombstone. How ya feelin’?”
The young man didn’t answer.
The woman placed the palm of her hand on the man’s forehead. “Ya seem to be doin’ alright now. When I took ya in, you was having a fever and was pale as a ghost. You’d been lying on that bed for hours now. Doctor Ross took care of that wound of yers by the way. He’s the best we’ve got in this town, lives across the street from us, so yer in good hands, mister. Anyway, I brought ya some water if you need it.”
The young man turned to his left and eyed the glass of water the woman laid on the nightstand beside the bed. He reached his hand out from under the covers, grabbed the glass and drank it all in a matter of seconds.
“My, my, ya must’ve been real thirsty,” said the woman. “Well, I’ll bring ya more water in a moment. I just came up to check on ya and see if yer alright. My name’s Christy by the way. The boy who found you was my son Johnny.”
The young man sat up and finally spoke with a rich, deep voice, “Where am I?”
“Oh, so ya can talk, huh? How you feelin’?”
“Better, I guess. I must thank you for taking care of me.”
“Yer very well-spoken for a man so young. Where you from?”
“Nowhere, ma’am” he answered. “The name’s Charietto.”
“That’s a funny name. What’s it short for?”
“Just Charietto is fine, ma’am.”
“Alright. Don’t matter to me who you are or where you came from. As long as you don’t cause any trouble for me, my boy, and the rest of the folks in this town, you’ll be just fine resting here for however long ya need to. Anyway, yer in Jonah Creek. Your mule is just out front of my house, tied to a hitch post. If yer worried ‘bout yer things, don’t worry. I placed yer saddlebags, and yer, uh, belt at the end of the bed over there. Not that it’s my business to go askin’ what’s in them, but I already guessed by the weight and feel of one of ‘em that those are yer firearms in there. You a hunter?”
“Something like that, yeah.”
“For how long?”
“Five years. Been traveling around.”
“You came to this town lookin’ to settle here?”
“No, I, uh, just stumbled upon it. I was heading west when I was ambushed by a couple of thieves, eight of them to be exact. I managed to kill two of them, but one of them managed to get a shot at me just as I was about to ride away. I was looking for a doctor when I arrived here, and, well, you know the rest.”
“I see. Well, at least the worst is over. Yer lucky to have survived, mister. You can just rest here until you fully recover.”
“It isn’t over yet. Not for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“The men who attacked me stole something that belonged to me, something they shouldn’t have taken. I’m going to look for those men and make them regret that they ever crossed paths with me.” As Charietto sat up and swore his oath of vengeance, he writhed in pain and clutched at the wound on his side.
The woman laid her hands on the young man and gently laid his back on the mattress and his head on the pillow. “Easy, mister. You can’t go anywhere in your condition. You need to rest.”
“The pain will pass, ma’am. I’ll be fine.”
“The doctor will see about that in the morning. In the meantime, you just get some more sleep, alright?”
Christy left the room with the empty glass in her hand, then returned moments later with the cup now filled with water and laid it on the nightstand. “I’ll be in my room across the hall. Holler if you need anything. Have a goodnight, mister.”
Charietto couldn’t rest. His eyes stared at the dark ceiling, thinking dark thoughts on how he was going to get back at the men who stole the one thing that was precious to him.
Eventually, the young man went to sleep, and suffered a restless dream.
2
Charietto awoke the next day, already out of bed, wearing his gray fabric poncho once more. He stepped out on the front porch and spotted his hostess Christy, sitting and rocking her chair back and forth.
“Morning, Christy,” said the young man.
“Well, good mornin’ to you, too.” Christy responded. “You feelin’ alright?”
“Yeah,” Charietto answered, trying hard to hide his grimace of pain.
“You oughta stay in bed a little longer, at least for a few days.”
“I can’t. I have to speak with the sheriff about what happened.”
“Alright, well, his office is just down the street there. Ya can’t miss it. I suggest you take your mule there so you can get there faster.”
“I will. Thanks.”
Charietto untied his mule from the hitch, mounted it, and rode down the dusty, almost empty street.
The streets of the town weren’t as lively or populated as many of the other towns in the Dakotas that Charietto came across before. Only a few residents walked the streets, either in pairs or strode along by themselves, but for the most part, it was like he had stumbled upon a ghost town. Not even the saloon was filled with customers, but a spare handful of sleepy drunks or customers drinking their poison quietly, staring at the newcomer who rode along the street on his mule.
At last, Charietto arrived outside the sheriff’s office, dismounted his mule and tied it to a hitch post before heading inside.
To his left as he entered, Charietto spotted the sheriff sitting behind his desk, sleeping while leaning back in his chair against the wall, his feet laid on top of the desk. He had one hand over the other, both laid on his stomach as he sat in his chair, snoring as loudly as a lion. Charietto smacked one of the sheriff’s boots, waking him from his deep slumber as he straightened himself up in his chair and cleared his throat.
The sheriff set his eyes on the young man before saying, “Ah Hell, what did you wake me up for?”
“You the sheriff of Jonah Creek?”
“Yes. That’s what the sign up on the roof says. What the hell is it that you want, boy?”
“Are you aware that there's a group of highway thieves just miles south of this town?”
“Ah, yes, I know them all too well. Those no-good bandits have been stealing and raping God-knows how many innocent passersby traveling to Jonah Creek for the past two years. Business here has been bad since we stopped getting the usual traffic we get. Some folks who were lookin’ to settle here or set up shop in this town pulled out and left.”
“Then why haven’t you done something about it?”
“You don’t think I have? I sent some of my finest deputies to bring justice to those thieving bastards, yet each time he did so, they all fell by the thieves’ bullets. Not even the best bounty hunters were successful in getting those bastards. We can’t seem to find any gunfighter-for-hire willin’ enough to take care of them!”
“How much are they worth?”
“‘Cuse me?”
“How much are they worth dead?”
“You mean you’ll take care of those thieves?”
“I sure will. I was attacked by them yesterday on the way. I already killed two of the thieves who tried to rob me, and I’m lookin’ to settle the score with the rest of them. How much for each of them?”
“So you killed two of them, huh? Well, I’ll have to see for myself about those two dead thieves, if they’re corpses are still there where you left ‘em. As for the rest of the gang, I’ll pay you $500, dead or alive.”
“Make that $600 for each, and I’ll bring them in dead.”
The sheriff sighed and said, “Fine, it’s a deal then. Best of luck to ya, mister.”
“I don’t need luck. Those men will wish they hadn’t crossed me.” Charietto turned his back to the sheriff and left the office without saying another word.
“Boy, I hate to be on his bad side,” the sheriff muttered to himself.
3
Jonathan, lying down on his bed mat next to the campfire, stared at the glimmering stars in the night sky. He didn’t know what the stars looked like in person. He wondered what it would be like to go up into the sky and see one of them up close. Astronomy had caught an interest in him when it was first taught to him at school, although he didn’t remember what grade he was in before he left his hometown in Southern Dakota with his friends to live a life of stealing. He couldn’t remember much of what he learned in Astronomy anyway. All he knew was that there were a lot of stars out there, and the sun and moon in the sky that rotate around the earth every once and a while.
“You’d best leave all that academic stuff behind you now, Johnny,” Luke told him, talking down to him like his parents or teachers did when he was just a little boy, “‘cause it ain’t gonna help us with surviving out here.”
Unfortunately, Jonathan couldn’t think of anything else but astronomy. It was the only thing that kept his mind distracted from remembering what happened yesterday, and he’d wish to forget about that trigger-happy gunslinger with the mule.
All throughout the evening, Jonathan laid at the campfire with the rest of his band of thieving companions, Markus, Luke, and Booth. Neither of them had uttered a word to each other before they settled at their usual camping spot, many miles from the town of Jonah Creek in the middle of nowhere on a small ground of dusty plains where nothing grows. Meanwhile the others in the group, Rusty and Orton, were out hunting.
“Man, when are Rusty and Orton comin’ back?” Jonathan asked Luke, the leader of the group. “I’m starvin.”
“Hush now, Jonny. Those two should be back shortly with food.”
“It’s been an hour, Luke,” Markus said. “What if somethin’ happened to them?”
“Those two can handle themselves just fine. Nothing’s happened to them yet.”
“Well, what if the law or one of ‘em bounty hunters caught up with us? We just gonna leave ‘em behind like we did Kenny and Lyle?”
“We already discussed this, Markus. They knew what to expect in this kind of life we set up for ourselves, and it ain’t our fault that they were killed by that ponco-wearin’ son of a bitch. If Rusty and Orton ain’t back, we’ll just head out there and look for ‘em.”
“Why we waitin’? Let’s look for them now!”
“Because it’s too dark out there and we don’t have any spare lanterns with us!”
“Oh, to hell with this!” Booth said, standing up and walking away from the fire. “I’m gonna take a leak.”
“So is that what we gonna do from now on,” said Markus, “when our friends are in trouble or get killed by some crazy gunslinger? We just salvage their stuff while their corpses are still warm and leave them to the vultures?”
“Don’t you lecture me, Markus!” Luke shouted. “I know what the hell I’m doin’! I’m keeping all of us alive, and mournin’ over the corpses of our friends ain’t helping us, especially since we’re wanted by the authorities! Unless you have any better ideas, I suggest you keep your mouth shut!”
Markus went silent after the argument, but only for a moment when he and others heard footsteps approaching the campfire. “Who’s there?”
Even when they reached for their revolvers in their holsters, the intruder didn’t announce itself. It emerged from the darkness, wearing a gray fabric poncho and heavy wool pants. Underneath the gray slouch hat was the face of a young man, the face who the thieves instantly recognized as the man they robbed yesterday.
“Some call me Charietto,” the intruder finally answered.
“You got some guts lookin’ to pick a fight with us again,” Markus said, gritting his teeth. “You think we’d forget ‘bout you killin’ our friends yesterday? Why don’t you get lost before we shoot ya again and make sure you stay dead this time.”
“You stole something that belongs to me. I want it back.”
Jonathan looked around at his companions, seeing that they were all staring at the young intruder with cautious faces. “Ya mean this rusty ol’ watch?” Jonathan asked, chuckling as he pulled it out of his pocket. “Doesn’t work no more. Why’d you want it back anyway? So you can remember to tell time?” Jonathan, and only Jonathan, was laughing at his own joke. The young intruder just stood there silently, glaring at him with those deep black eyes.
“So you think that’s funny, huh?” he said. “Taking what doesn’t belong to you and laughing at their face when they ask for it back?”
Jonathan suddenly stopped laughing. Just like the rest of his friends, they stared silently at the young intruder, their hands itching, inches away from their revolvers in their gun holsters.
“Well?” The intruder’s eyes looked at each of the thieves one by one, waiting for one of them to answer.
“Look, Charietto, or whatever the hell yer name is, we’ve already warned ya earlier,” said Markus, “so you’d best get out of here or we’ll fill you full of lead!”
“Oh, no. You see, this time, I won’t be the one who’s gonna turn tail. Of course, if you apologize and give me back my watch, I might consider letting you all go free provided that you give your word to depart from the Dakotas and never come back.”
“So let me get this straight,” said Luke, “ya want us to give you back this little watch here that we stole from you, and after that, you wanna kick us out of this territory? Seems like yer askin’ for a little too much, mister. Well, how’s about I put a bullet in ya instead, huh? How ‘bout that?”
“I’m giving you this one chance to do this. I’ve been nice up ‘til now, so don’t push your luck.” The young intruder flipped over the front of his poncho over his shoulder, revealing his gun belt with a big black iron in his gun holster. “This is a heavily modified revolver. In just under three seconds I can drop you all like flies.”
“Ya think you can come here and threaten us to do what you want?” Markus shouted at the young gunslinger in a desperate act of defiance. “There’s still six of us left, and only one of you!”
“Actually, there’s four of you and one of me. You see, while all of you were sitting at the campfire, I took care of your other friends out there. Their bodies are rotting away miles from here as we speak. After this is over, I’ll be carrying the bodies to the sheriff and collecting the bounty on their heads.”
Markus’ face was fuming with anger and resentment. “Yer dead, mister,” Markus growled at the young gunslinger. “Ya hear me?”
“Calm down, Markus,” Luke told his friend.
“Last chance,” said Charietto. “Leave here or die.”
“Go to hell!”
“I said calm down!” Luke warned his friend again in vain, but he refused to listen, continuing to leer at the young man with dagger eyes.
“You sure you can take me on?” Charietto mockingly asked Marcus.
“Take you on? I’m gonna take you out myself you son of a-!”
As Markus reached for his gun, before he or any of his buddies ever had the chance to aim their revolvers at the young man, Charietto, like a flash of lightning, quickly drew his weapon and fired four shots. All four men fell to the ground before the young gunslinger’s feet, lying motionless and still, their bodies still warm even in the cold, windy air.
One of the thieves started coughing, still breathing after receiving a bullet to the stomach. Jonathan, holding the pocket watch tight in the palm of his fist, struggling to hold on to whatever life he had with him. He heard the sounds of footsteps approaching him, striding along the desert floor, each step it took was like the sound of death approaching. He looked up and saw the young killer who snatched the lives of his friends away from this world.
“W-who the hell are you?” Jonathan asked, but the young man did not answer kindly, aiming his big black revolver at his face and firing one shot in between his eyes.
The young gunslinger knelt down and pried open the dead man’s fist, revealing his pocket watch. Charietto picked it up and opened it. A small photograph was placed on the back of the seal of a young man, no older than 17, sitting on a chair, and behind him stood a young boy posing for the photo with him. Charietto closed the pocket watch and placed it back where it rightfully belonged in one of his pants pockets. He turned and left behind the bodies of the bullet-riddled bandits.
4
After Charietto finished packing the last saddlebag on his mule Zelus, he climbed onto it and took one last look around the street. He turned and gazed at Christy and her son Johnny standing on the front porch of their house.
“Yer really leavin’ already, mister?” Johnny asked the young gunslinger.
“Sure am. My job’s done, and I’d best be on my way.”
“Why don’t you stay a little longer, mister? Maybe you can teach me how to shoot like you do!”
“Well, I think that’s up to your mother, but my advice is to wait until you’re older.”
“Johnny is right about one thing though,” said Christy. “You’re more than welcome to stay here as long as you want. You could look into living here in this town. Folks ‘round here would be more than happy and safe with you around.”
“I appreciate the thought, but I already have a home, out there in the middle of nowhere, on the open deserts of Arizona.”
“Well, it ain’t much of a home to me, mister, especially with no people around to talk to or cook for you.”
“No offense, but I’m not much of a people person. It’s just the way I am, ma’am. So long Christy, and, uh, thanks again for everything.”
“You’re welcome to come back to Jonah Creek anytime, Charietto. You’ll always have a home here.”
“Have a safe trip, mister!” Johnny shouted, waving at the young gunslinger
Charietto nodded, tipped his gray slouch hat and smiled before he and his pale mule rode off, heading south and leaving the town of Jonah Creek, going back to the open plains of the American countryside amongst the wild and free.
The End