* * * * * *
After a seemingly never ending night of listening to the old man drone on and on, I figured it’d be nice to finally get some peace and quiet. That’s what I thought, at least, but the reality was far more solemn
I could tell Billy wanted to speak, tell his story, but there was something wrong with the kid; something that stilled his tongue and chilled him to the bone.
It was an awkward silence over many hours when we made our way to the edge of a ridge that overlooked the small settlement. One long road divided the town; it wasn’t much, but in this day and age better than most.
“Well I’ll be damned,” I said with a grin. “Old man, looks like you were right.”
There was a sign for all to see, a billboard that read, “Welcome to Janestown, where all your sins are forgotten.”
“Clearly,” I said with a snort. “Well, we did it, boy… and not a moment too soon.”
Betsy trotted down the steep path towards Janestown with me on the saddle and Billy clinging on tightly behind. After all this time, I would’ve figured the boy’s grip to lessen, but tighter and tighter it became with every step.
“Don’t take it personally, boy,” I said. “You’re great company, but I reckon I’m going to need a drink after all this.”
No more than fifty buildings made up the town, one of the outlying towns waiting for some railroad tracks to be laid that were ever going to come. Still, I could find a cold beer and warm bed, the two things I truly needed.
It wasn’t much, but half the townspeople must’ve been out and about, fixing up the buildings and giving everything a new coat of paint. They seemed proud of what they had, what they didn’t seem to feel pride in however, was the church at the end of the street. It was boarded up so that not a single beam of light would pierce its barricade and into its inner sanctum.
“Perhaps they caught the preacher buggering the kids,” I said to myself. “Not that I couldn’t think of a million reasons to turn from the teachings of God.”
Still, why not burn it down and use the land for something new? A town could always use another bar. I continued through the middle of the town until we reached the stables beside the tavern and dismounted to greet the man sitting in front of the place.
“Evening,” I said with a tip of the hat. “How much will it be for the night?”
“Five bucks for the horse,” he said as he rose. “Twenty will get ya both a place to sleep and a meal when ya wake.”
“Here’s thirty for the horse and me, the kids not staying.” I replied.
“Sir, yer much too kind,” he said. “I’m gonna treat yer horse to a double helping of oats. Just you see, she’ll be up and running with the wind in no time flat.”
“Good. The extra’s to keep Betsy ready at all times, no matter the time of night.”
“I hear ya loud and clear, mister,” he said with a smirk. “Never know when yer gonna need to slip away, is ya. “She’s a purdy mustang,” he continued. “I’ll make sure she’s ready at the drop of a hat… hopefully not yers.”
I bid him good night and walked off with Billy beside me. How the bloody hell was I supposed to find this kid’s home when he couldn’t even tell me his own name? As much as I didn’t want to say it, I just wanted to be rid of him and wash my sorrows away with a bottle of vodka and beer chasers.
I had lost the demon’s trail. In all the time I’d chased the monster, I’d never been as close as I was a few days ago. I came within a hair’s breadth of it; all to have it slip between my fingers. Somewhere out there, the beast was laughing at me, taunting me while I coddled this kid.
“Where’s your house?” I asked, turning to Billy and kneeling down to look him in the eyes. “I’m really going to need you to show me the way, boy.”
I got no response from the boy, now deathly pale and quivering in his boots. I don’t know if he ran away from home, or was taken against his will. Frankly, it wasn’t any of my concern. I promised to see the boy home and not a single thing more.
“What house boy? Where do you live? I’m not kidding around here Billy.”
“Where do you live damn it?” I bellowed with my hand raised in anger. “You’re going to tell me whether you want to or not.”
I paused for a moment, caught in a flashback of my life as a child. My father was a good man and never once raised a hand to me in anger, yet here I was, ready to do so to a kid who wouldn’t or couldn’t talk. I didn’t want to be that man. I couldn’t be that man. I lowered my hand, but as mine descended, Billy’s pointed towards one of the homes behind me.
“Thank you, Billy,” I said, stroking his matted hair. “I promise that I’ll never threaten you again.”
I took him by the hand and led him home. It was a decent enough looking place, bright white but without a hint of charm. It was basic, simple and safe, the kind of place where a kid wouldn’t have any fun, but one where he’d grow up right and proper.
Billy stiffened up and squeezed my hand tightly as I knocked on the door and awaited someone’s arrival. I could hear somebody fumbling around inside, coming towards me.
“Good morning,” said a man as the front door opened for us. “How may I help you, sir?”
He was a regular enough sort of guy, middle aged with buzzed black hair that contrasted with his white clothing, soiled with god knows what on it, and the stink of manure about him. Still, there was nothing unnatural about his appearance; but then again, there was nothing too interesting about him, either.
“Uh…,” I stumbled with the words and looked down towards Billy, “I’ve got your kid here?”
“The boy?” the man asked in bewilderment. “Oh, the boy there… quite right, I’ll take him off your hands.”
“Don’t you want to know where he’s been?” I asked. “He’s been gone for god knows how long.”
“It all worked out in the end,” he said with a blank look. “You’ve my thanks for bringing him back stranger.”
“It’s Horace.”
“Yes, I’m sure it is,” he replied. “You have a good day now.”
I tried to pass the boy along to his father, but he was strong for a kid his age, surprisingly so, and wasn’t letting go.
“Please,” said Billy, speaking for the first time since his capture. “Please don’t l-leave me.”
“I’ve got people that are depending on me,” I said, kneeling down to speak to Billy on his level, “much like a father needs his son. You have a good life, Billy Godwin. You were a real hero back there… never forget that, cowboy.”
And just like that I left the boy, in the company of his father, yet alone in the world. It wasn’t my problem, though, not anymore. We all had to make sacrifices, and this was no more tragic than any other—especially those that called themselves reapers.