Visitor In A One Horse Town

Visitor In A One Horse Town

By Paul McCann

In rode the stranger on a white stallion. Tumbleweeds rolled across the street blown by a western wind that swept the dust in and out of this one horse town. Nothing but the dust and tumbleweeds moved as the rider pulled up outside the saloon. He got off his horse and tied the reins to a post.
Taking the saddle from the horses back he tossed it down beside the saloon door that swung to and fro to the gusts of wind that rushed in and out of the town. Then the stranger pushed his way through the louvre doors and stood there in the silence of an empty bar. The silence was broken as a rat scurried across the wooden floorboards in the saloon. As the stranger slowly made his way to the bar the floorboards creaked underneath his shuffling feet. His long metal spurs clinked and rattled like the shackles of a tormented slave.
Dust thickly covered the tables and chairs. Cobwebs clung to the bottles and glasses that sat on the counter and shelves of the bar. Half empty whisky bottles lay here and like relics of a forgotten era.
Suddenly a strange noise cut the strangers ears as he spun around drawing his six-shooter from his gun belt. He swivelled the chamber of his gun open ensuring it was fully loaded. As he stealthy walked across the room a shadow
from the street fell at his feet. It was no sooner there as it was gone.
The shadow looked like another gunslinger. But who could it be?
He rolled through the entrance to the outside and stood in front of his horse The horse was troubled and stood uneasy . The strange noise seemed to be coming from down the street.
Outside the barbers shop as old rusty sign was hung . It swayed like
a dead man on the last strand of a rope. Suddenly the sign crashed to the ground and shattered into small pieces.
The creaking noise continued and grew louder. It seemed to surround him now and haunted him wherever he went. The stranger walked through the deserted town. Up and down both sides of the street he went.
He lifted his eyes far out on the range but had to cover his eyes to the glare of the sun that shone down brightly on the wild western plain. High noon was always a time to be alert and the stranger saw movement outside the jailhouse. It was a rocking chair that slowly creaked back and forward.
As he made his way over a bullet grazed the side of his face. He never flinched. Then another shot rung out. This time the bullet nicked his ear.
A horse bolted from out of nowhere and galloped through the street minus its rider. It almost seemed like the horse galloped into the sky.
In a brief moment it was gone.
A lonely wind whistled an eerie tune as it blew into town.
A voice that seemed to come from within the wind spoke,

“Ride on stranger.”

The from the jailhouse out he stepped. As if from out of a black cloud the he emerged. The stranger tipped his hat down over his eyes and remained cool. The figure before his was huge. Scars and marks covered his unshaven face like cracks in a desert floor. He was mean and cruel looking .The closer he got the more ugly he became. The stranger took a deep breath.

A stale smell of death choked the air.
“I won’t tell you again. Ride on stranger. This one horse town isn’t big enough for you and me. So saddle up and move on out. “

He whistled out a command that brought a horse from nowhere onto the street before them .

“Here is a horse I’ve saddled for you. So take my advice and leave now while you still can.”

The stranger pulled out his tobacco pouch and from it he cut a bit of black chew. He chewed it over for a bit and looking around at the tumbleweeds and the dust he said,

“Well now listen to me. This is kinda how I see it. As a matter of fact I’m getting used to this old place. I like this one horse town so much that I was thinking I might just stay on and make this place my home.”
Saying that he spat out the well-chewed tobacco at the feet of his foe.
Then he slapped the horses rump and the horse galloped right through town .
Like a bullet fired from a gun the horse run to the edge of the sun .

“Maybe you’re just hard of hearing stranger.”
The door of the jailhouse was suddenly blown off its hinges into the street.
It was as if a tornado had erupted from somewhere within.

“Maybe I am.“ Said the stranger.
The two men approached and stared eye to eye. Both eyes were empty of any emotion.
“I never caught your name, “ said the stranger with his hand on his six-shooter.
“That’s because I never give it. Especially to mortal midgets like you.”
You’re a just mouse of a man and I’m the ghost of this one horse town. No man alive has the power to gun me down. So this is the end of the line for you stranger. “

The stranger smiled at the ugly face and as he looked deep into the two black holes that once were eyes he said.

“I’m just getting settled in now so maybe you better move out. I think I’ll stick around. Now ride on out before I whip you good.”

“Whip me you say. Well that’ll be the day. That must be the craziest thing I’ve heard in over three hundred years.”

“ Three hundred years you say. Sure you’re just a kid.”

“ You say what. Hey I’m the meanest son of all the bitches. I’ve burnt the britches of ghouls and witches. “

“Is that so. Well what do you know ? Cause I’m going to lay you low. “

“Who are you dude. You’re nobody going nowhere and I’m the man.
My gun is the law. I’m the fastest on the draw. I’ll be the slickest trickiest
Gunslinger that you’ve ever saw. So get on out of town before I shoot you down. You’re just a clown and I’m going to put you down. So stay as you say but on my terms, six feet beneath the ground. Here is the way it is, you see
I run the show here in this one horse town ”

The stranger never batted an eyelid as he lifted his hat from over his eyes and winking he said,
“You might be the ghost, but I am the host. So how’s about a toast to your health, well what do you think, how’s about a final drink. You see riding out on the range is a hot dirty stinking way to end up for a fool like you. See me I’m a cool hustler and a ghost rustler. I a dead ringer for a dead duck like you I’m the hand that packs bolt lightening and it’s frightening what I’m going to do to a poor ghost like you. I’m a dog gone cotton picking rooting tooting
From the hip shooting gun slinging judgment bringing earth shaking stranger
From heavens door to this town “.

The stranger drew first and fired off six shots that hit home bringing the ghost
to the dust in a heap . The stranger’s laughter echoed through the town from one end to the other. The laughter was mixed with his loud piercing words
“Now I’m the only ghost in this one horse town “.

By Paul McCann

The End