I
Time moves in gold wisps like smoke.
The town of Carpatheon was rebuilt.
More showed up to inhabit the stores. Two skilled Italian brothers took up the haircutter's residence, spreading a modern touch of fashion to the town. Dentists and swindlers and merchants and vagrants showed up until the town grew bigger than any other in the west, so much so that the U.S. government paved a road from Washington, D.C. straight through it on its way to the coast.
The stables were built to the grandest of specifications. The boys grew into men over the many years, becoming herdsmen and eventually starting the renaissance of "rodeo" entertainment.
Chaim Bialik died of heart failure in the short years after the town's apex. His funeral was quiet yet grandiose, much like Anson Sharpe's. Numerous speakers came to the aid of Chaim's memory, including Henri, Cant, Novak, and many others. He had also sculpted a large, bronze statue to be erected after his death. The statue had been made in his likeness - though only the face accurately portrayed the man, as the body was of a well-defined, muscular young man. (There was an inscription at the bottom - one that would become smudged and unreadable in its later years - that read: CHAIM, DIVORCE THAT BITCH.)
SEVERAL YEARS LATER
Saida Villanova Sharpe was playing in a patch of daises. Her mother was off working, as always. Her Godfather was at a nearby table, keeping an eye on her. (He had the only name Saida felt capable of saying - though, in her attempts, people would often blush and ask her not to, or they would stress the A-sound in Caaaant.) Cant was in the gazebo he and Drewbell had helped construct near the bronze statue commemorating Chaim, and Henri even recommended something called a "baseball field" in the close distance.
Saida picked a fair amount of daisies and laid them at the foot of Chaim's statue. People had been laying flowers at the foot of the statue since before Saida had even been born; they were leaving thanks. But Saida was interrupted as Drewbell approached from the path back to town. The woman quickly ran up and grabbed Saida from behind, coiling her in her arms, bringing her close to kiss. The child giggled at the affection and snuggled her face between Drewbell's shoulder and neck. She carried Saida over to the bench where Cant was sitting, and she sat with the young girl on her lap.
With a quick swivel, she planted a practiced kiss on Cant's lips.
"Surprised the lovebirds aren't here making out," Drewbell said, taking an extra wide look around in case she missed them.
"Rebecca's at the saloon," responded Cant. "Not sure where Novak is, probably with Henri." He was staring, taking in all the details of Drewbell's face as he spoke.
It was a habit he had formed at a young age.
"And where's Henri?" she asked.
"Where do you think?"
"But I thought she was done?" Drewbell responded, confused.
Drewbell had a sad look on her face and Saida noticed, turning her head up and back. She couldn't quite ask why but Drewbell saw her inquisitive stare.
Drewbell leaned in a bit and kissed the tiny girl's cheek as an answer.
There was a whistle from the distance and Saida turned to find her mother crossing the meadow. She was wiping grease from her hands with a rag, which she tucked into the back of her pants. Saida struggled to wiggled herself free of Drewbell and, at full sprint, she ran to her mother on wobbly, uncertain legs. (She ran much like Chaim.) Her mother knelt down and embraced her with a strong, warm hug. She lifted her into the air, letting her feet dangle. They kissed each other half a dozen times.
Then her mother leaned close and whispered a question into her ear:
"Are you ready to go home?"
II
A nurse ran down the hallway in search of any nearby doctor. She rushed, poking her head in room after room, calling out, frantically seeking a doctor, any doctor.
And then she found one.
"Doctor! The patient is awake."
The doctor had his stethoscope pressed against an old woman but he dropped it, wrapping it around his neck to run behind the nurse in a quick to room #35.
Inside, the patient - all covered in bandages - could be heard whimpering.
The doctor rushed to his side in an attempt to check the man's vitals.
"Curtis, do you remember what happened? You were shot numerous times: Can you remember? How do you feel? It's a miracle you've survived. You've been in a coma for some time. Do you remember anything, Mr. Anglin?"
The patient had trouble speaking but, finally, gets out a response?
"How's?my hair?"
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