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202 Bill Brooks
Without so much as a word she climbed down and
walked past father, siblings, and mother into the
house.
You keep her home, Toussaint said, pressing a
knuckle to the small gash above his eye. You keep
her home from now on lest she cause more trouble. If
I have to come back here again, I ll clean out the
whole nest of you.
Boy those little peckerwoods is going to grow up
to be some mean bastards, Waddy Worth said when
Toussaint had turned the wagon around and headed
back to Sweet Sorrow.
Shut up, Toussaint said.
Doc and Birdy had searched throughout part of the
night with no luck in finding Elias Poke. Exhausted,
Doc walked Birdy back to her crib one of several
maintained by the prostitutes along a back alley, even
though all the town s prostitutes had left for other
more profitable climes except for Birdy and Mistress
Sheba.
I appreciate your help, Doc, Birdy said.
Whatever it was that caused Poke to act like he
did I m sure is merely a passing madness, Doc told
her. It isn t uncommon for men who take up the
practice of religion to become filled with strange fer-
vors. I knew of such types back in Kentucky that even
take up speaking in strange tongues and drinking poi-
son and handling rattlesnakes.
Is that where you re from, Doc, Kentucky? Why
Dakota Lawman: Last Stand at Sweet Sorrow 203
you and me were practically neighbors. I m from
Darke County, Ohio. I suppose you never heard of it?
Doc shook his head.
No, I never heard of that place in particular but I
have visited Cincinnati several times and thought it a
nice town.
Why, Cincinnati is right close to Darke County.
Ain t it something you and me are from nearly the
same place, Doc?
They could hear laughter from the Rosebud. The
laughter sounded lonely to Woodrow Willis. He stood
unmoving, caught up in the moment of melancholy.
In spite of her exhaustion, Birdy felt sorry for the
old man, for he seemed as lonely as the stars when she
looked at him. His white hair glowed in the moon-
light.
Doc, would you like to come inside for awhile?
I ve got a little peach brandy.
Woodrow Willis looked at the shadowy face of
Birdy Pride, looked at the darkened door that led to
her crib. He thought about the induced madness
spreading through the town, and he thought about
Iris, off somewhere with a man half his age but not
half his equal. On such dark and hopeless nights all
he could ever think about was Iris. It was only natural
to think that at this very moment she was probably
giving herself to the school teacher. It felt like a knife
wound to his heart to think that she was.
Doc, would you like to come in? Birdy repeated.
Yes, he said so softly Birdy could barely hear him.
204 Bill Brooks
She opened the door and he followed her inside.
I ll just light us a lamp, she said.
No, he said. I d prefer you left it dark.
There was just enough moonlight inside to see by,
shadows of things: the walls, a chair, a bed in the
corner.
I think the bottle of brandy s over here, Birdy
said, starting to move to one side of the room. But he
took hold of her wrist and wouldn t let go.
What is it, Doc?
Just stay here by me a moment, he said.
They stood that way. Birdy could hear his breath-
ing, how it had grown rapid and she knew the sounds
of a man who had been deprived of the flesh of a
woman for too long. She prided herself in understand-
ing a man s needs, and knowing how an educated
man like Doc Willis felt made her feel all the more
sorry for him.
You want to get undressed, Doc, and lay with me?
I . . . I . . .
It s okay, Doc. I know how lonely it can get for a
man without no woman out here on these grasslands.
I have known lots of lonely men. I m in the lonely
business, Doc. Even a working girl sometimes gets
lonely, in spite of all the men wanting to pay attention
to her. Sometimes like tonight, I miss my folks terrible
and wish I was back there with them instead of way
out here on this frontier.
Doc s passion overtook him. He pulled Birdy close
and kissed her hard, trying to believe as much as he
could that she was Iris returned to him. Birdy tried
Dakota Lawman: Last Stand at Sweet Sorrow 205
pulling away because she didn t like rough treatment
very much, having suffered her share of it from the
cowboys and the ranchers and farmers. But Doc held
her tight, said, I m sorry, child, I m sorry . . . It s just
that I need so much to. . .
Go easy, Doc. We don t have to be in no hurry.
He settled himself on the edge of the bed and
began taking off his shoes. Birdy undressed there by
the window where the mercurial light of the moon
shone on her and his eyes watched her movements.
She could have been Iris, undressing for him. They
were about the same size.
Oh, Iris, he said.
Do you want me to pretend I m your wife, Doc?
Your Iris?
He felt the straight razor in his pocket.
What would you know about a woman like her?
he said harshly, his mood quickly changed.
I don t know nothing about her, Doc. I bet she
was a real sweet gal, though. I bet she loved you.
The smooth hard handle of the razor was made of
mother of pearl; his fingers encircled it.
Come closer, child. Come let me touch you.
You promise not to rough me up, Doc?
Yes, I promise. No more rough stuff, Birdy.
I m so tired. Maybe I ll have to sleep some before
we do it.
Yes, whatever you like, my love.
Birdy sagged down on the bed next to him.
I m sure enough worried about Preacher, she
said, her voice trailing off.
206 Bill Brooks
Doc brought forth the razor from his pocket.
Birdy s soft little snores came swiftly. He gently found
the soft curve of her throat with his fingertips.
Sleep, sleep, my drowsing child, let dreams take
you to faraway places that are clean and pure and
without sin. Let thy sleep renew you and make you
whole again. Let thy sleep bring back the virtue you
lost along the way to your final rest. And let not
another man steal one more beautiful thing from you
and leave you less than you were when you first
arrived upon this desperate earth.
He placed the blade to her delicate exposed skin
knowing how easy it would be to bring her final and
eternal sleep. She would never know another moment
of distress, of heartache, of wanting or longing or
needing. He could make an angel of her in an instant,
just as he should have made an angel of his Iris before
she grew wings and flew away.
The razor s blade snatched a sliver of moonlight as
he moved it a fraction of an inch and saw the first
drop of blood appear in its wake.
He brought his mouth to hers. Her lips parted even
though she was yet asleep, out of habit, he supposed,
from so many men kissing her. And then knew that he
could not end her life on such a hot still night, for her
innocence in that moment was greater than her sin.
He closed the razor and put it back into his pocket
and chose instead to curl up against her, for he was
ever so weary, too.
Iris, he whispered. My lovely sweet Iris . . .
* * *
Dakota Lawman: Last Stand at Sweet Sorrow 207
Roy Bean had been coming out of the Rosebud just as
Birdy and Doc turned the corner to go down the alley-
way that led to Birdy s crib. Roy Bean had started to
call out to them, then realized that he would only
seem like a desperate man if he did. Instead he
watched with feeble thoughts as Doc followed Birdy
into the alley, into the darkness, knowing where they
were going and what they would be doing once they
got there. Roy imagined that it was likely Birdy had
taken up with Doc in her search for a husband. And
why not? Doc was a single, if aged man, with plenty
of financial resources to care for her. He had that big
empty house. Yes, he could imagine Doc and Birdy as
a permanent item and himself cut completely out of
the picture. Boy, oh boy, he told himself. While I was [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] - zanotowane.pl
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