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tiny_voicesThe thing about it was, he and I could never agree on whether the weather was good or not. I love the heat, the sun, the sweat. Sure, it got uncomfortable sometimes, could even be dangerous, if you were caught out in the day too long with no shade and not enough water. That’s what happened to Aluminum Jim. He went sun crazy, came running back into town with wobbly eyes and peeling skin, talking nonsense. But to me, there’s just something careless and free about the heat.
Daniel on the other hand couldn’t stand to be in the sun for much longer than it took to smoke a cigarette. He’d complain about how irritated and damp he was, muttering about it damn near the whole time I’d take him on rides through the dunes. Not a big fan of horses, either. My girl Cinnamon would huff and trot all nice for him and she’d be lucky to get a polite pat on the snout for her trouble.
That was the other thing about Daniel— if he didn’t deem you worth it, or if you just didn’t match up with his rules, he would hardly give you the time of day. He had a face like a saint, the locks of a lamb, and eyes the color of sunset rocks up on Wise Man’s Point. And he spoke soft and clever, like there was a poetry book tucked into his chest pocket.
Copper Clark and Darling Daniel, well, we were a wonder.
It’s been a while now, but I can’t help but think about the day I learned what kind of man Daniel really was. Where he changed from the gossamer fabric vision I had of him into flesh and blood and venom. You see, out here in the sticks and tumbleweeds, you’ll meet some of the nicest people in the whole world. But in turn, you’ll also meet the nastiest rattlesnakes of your life. Sometimes these two kinds of people are one and the same.
I was at the shop, having a nice talk with Nickel-and-Dime Bertha and her wife Sherry, when the kids from Silver Shack crashed in, guns drawn. They called for my money, wrestling the ladies to the floor. I figured the boys were bluffing, and I managed to scare half of ‘em out the door with a quick shot of my own pistol. But then what happened was a regular shoot out, right there in my own shop, with my two shop hands coming in from the back to lend their metal.
Soon, the windows were all destroyed, patrons wreathed in shattered glass and empty shells. The leader of the Silver Shack group and his right hand called for a duel outside, all old fashioned. I agreed, shouting throughout town for Daniel. Finally I spotted him holed up behind Tyson’s place, looking all shifty eyed and shaken.
“You’re the best shot I got,” I told him. “We can take these boys out, you and me, I know we can.”
We had taken on rougher dances before. He and I had run Ol’ Sharptooth Shan out of town before, more than once. We had even fended off the blood wolves the previous fall. Daniel and I were that kinda pair. But he was as hard to convince as a vacuum salesman that day. I kissed him and his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. I figured it was jitters.
Silver Shack stood at one end of the alley, my boy and I at the other. Guns holstered. Brims tilted low. Aluminum Jim counted down, straight and steady despite his shakes.
But at the two count, Daniel pulled his pistol and put a bullet in my leg. I hit the dirt with a shout, expecting another shot to finish me off, but the remainder of the fire was aimed skyward, victorious. I wiped the sweat and dust from my eyes to see the Silver boys hopping onto their horses and riding like the wind. Daniel followed them a second later… up on Cinnamon’s back.
Our eyes met for but a moment, like a flash of lightning. I couldn’t read him, though the look he gave me I had seen him give to others many times before.
I guess my worth to him ran out that day. After all, silver pays more than copper.
***
(this was a bit of daily writing i did when given the prompt of "gay cowboys." it ended up being an exercise in voice, and a rather successful one, i'd say.)
Daniel on the other hand couldn’t stand to be in the sun for much longer than it took to smoke a cigarette. He’d complain about how irritated and damp he was, muttering about it damn near the whole time I’d take him on rides through the dunes. Not a big fan of horses, either. My girl Cinnamon would huff and trot all nice for him and she’d be lucky to get a polite pat on the snout for her trouble.
That was the other thing about Daniel— if he didn’t deem you worth it, or if you just didn’t match up with his rules, he would hardly give you the time of day. He had a face like a saint, the locks of a lamb, and eyes the color of sunset rocks up on Wise Man’s Point. And he spoke soft and clever, like there was a poetry book tucked into his chest pocket.
Copper Clark and Darling Daniel, well, we were a wonder.
It’s been a while now, but I can’t help but think about the day I learned what kind of man Daniel really was. Where he changed from the gossamer fabric vision I had of him into flesh and blood and venom. You see, out here in the sticks and tumbleweeds, you’ll meet some of the nicest people in the whole world. But in turn, you’ll also meet the nastiest rattlesnakes of your life. Sometimes these two kinds of people are one and the same.
I was at the shop, having a nice talk with Nickel-and-Dime Bertha and her wife Sherry, when the kids from Silver Shack crashed in, guns drawn. They called for my money, wrestling the ladies to the floor. I figured the boys were bluffing, and I managed to scare half of ‘em out the door with a quick shot of my own pistol. But then what happened was a regular shoot out, right there in my own shop, with my two shop hands coming in from the back to lend their metal.
Soon, the windows were all destroyed, patrons wreathed in shattered glass and empty shells. The leader of the Silver Shack group and his right hand called for a duel outside, all old fashioned. I agreed, shouting throughout town for Daniel. Finally I spotted him holed up behind Tyson’s place, looking all shifty eyed and shaken.
“You’re the best shot I got,” I told him. “We can take these boys out, you and me, I know we can.”
We had taken on rougher dances before. He and I had run Ol’ Sharptooth Shan out of town before, more than once. We had even fended off the blood wolves the previous fall. Daniel and I were that kinda pair. But he was as hard to convince as a vacuum salesman that day. I kissed him and his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. I figured it was jitters.
Silver Shack stood at one end of the alley, my boy and I at the other. Guns holstered. Brims tilted low. Aluminum Jim counted down, straight and steady despite his shakes.
But at the two count, Daniel pulled his pistol and put a bullet in my leg. I hit the dirt with a shout, expecting another shot to finish me off, but the remainder of the fire was aimed skyward, victorious. I wiped the sweat and dust from my eyes to see the Silver boys hopping onto their horses and riding like the wind. Daniel followed them a second later… up on Cinnamon’s back.
Our eyes met for but a moment, like a flash of lightning. I couldn’t read him, though the look he gave me I had seen him give to others many times before.
I guess my worth to him ran out that day. After all, silver pays more than copper.
***
(this was a bit of daily writing i did when given the prompt of "gay cowboys." it ended up being an exercise in voice, and a rather successful one, i'd say.)
