one that knows what has happened.”
“Evil has claimed it,” Jebidiah said. “When that happens, all manner of things can occur. Not always the same, but always evil. You have decided to embrace the truth, they have not. But in time, they must.”
“I’m not evil. I’m just a cowpoke that got dead.”
“The evil is what’s holding you,” Jebidiah said.
The cowboy nodded. “Them.”
“The hairy ones,” Mary said.
“Yes, the hairy ones,” the ghost said. “What they did left me in this place. There are other places, places I would like to move to, but I can’t, and it’s because of them, who they are and what they are.”
“It’s the way you died,” Jebidiah said. “You are caught in one of God’s little jokes.”
The ghost twisted its head to the side like a curious dog.
“What kind of joke?” the cowboy said, “because I assure you, I don’t find it all that funny.”
“And, in time, you will find it less and less humorous, and then you will get angry, and then you will react, and your reactions will not be of the best nature.”
“I have no intent of haunting anyone,” said the ghost.
“Time and frustration turns the spirit dark,” Jebidiah said. “But I can help you pass on.”
“You can?”
“I can.”
“Then do it, for Christ’s sake.”
“The evil must be destroyed.”
“Do it.”
“I would ask a small favor of you, first.”
“Of me?”
“Tell me about this town. What happened to you. If I know about it, I can fight what’s here, and I can help you pass on. That is my promise.”
“Oh, you can’t fight what’s here. Soon, you and her will be like me.”
“Perhaps,” Jebidiah said.
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Mary said.
“First things first,” Jebidiah said. “I don’t want to stand here with my horse and my back against the door.”
“Understood,” said the ghost.
Jebidiah found a big room, a kind of sitting room, and that was where he put his horse, fed it grain that he poured out onto the hardwood floor. Then, as the ghost watched, he pushed a long cabinet across the doorway and pulled the curtains on the window. He and Mary took a seat on a kind of settee that was before the large window with the pulled curtains. There was no light inside, and Jebidiah did nothing to find one, though oil lamps stood out from the wall in brass fixtures. They sat in the dark, it being nothing to the ghost. Jebidiah and Mary’s eyes adjusted in time, enough to make out shapes, and, of course the ghost was forever constant, white and firm.
Once seated, the Reverend pulled both his revolvers and laid them on his thighs. Mary sat tight against him. The ghost took a chair as he might have in real life. He pulled a ghostly chaw from his pocket and put it in his jaw. The room grew darker and the night grew more still.
“There’s no taste,” the ghost said after a few jaw movements. “It’s just the idea of a chaw. It’s there, and I can put it in my mouth, but it’s like the liquor the bartender serves, it’s not really there. Thing that makes me feel a bit better about that is the fact the money I pay him, it ain’t there either. Ain’t nothing really there but my urges.”
“So the bartender knows you’re here?” Jebidiah said.
“Sometimes. Sometimes not.”
“I’m sure it is a misery,” Jebidiah said. “But now, if I’m to help you, help us. I feel that we are short of time. Already the street is full of the night, and the great shadow lays heavy on the town. I can taste it when I breathe.”
“You talk funny.”
“I was educated funny.”
The ghost nodded. “That shadow comes down on the town before they do. It comes, they are not far behind. When they show up, that’s at the beat of twelve,” and with that the ghost nodded toward a big grandfather clock in the near corner of the room, “that’s when things get hairy, so to speak.”
Jebidiah struck a match and leaned it in the direction of the clock. It said
“Evil has claimed it,” Jebidiah said. “When that happens, all manner of things can occur. Not always the same, but always evil. You have decided to embrace the truth, they have not. But in time, they must.”
“I’m not evil. I’m just a cowpoke that got dead.”
“The evil is what’s holding you,” Jebidiah said.
The cowboy nodded. “Them.”
“The hairy ones,” Mary said.
“Yes, the hairy ones,” the ghost said. “What they did left me in this place. There are other places, places I would like to move to, but I can’t, and it’s because of them, who they are and what they are.”
“It’s the way you died,” Jebidiah said. “You are caught in one of God’s little jokes.”
The ghost twisted its head to the side like a curious dog.
“What kind of joke?” the cowboy said, “because I assure you, I don’t find it all that funny.”
“And, in time, you will find it less and less humorous, and then you will get angry, and then you will react, and your reactions will not be of the best nature.”
“I have no intent of haunting anyone,” said the ghost.
“Time and frustration turns the spirit dark,” Jebidiah said. “But I can help you pass on.”
“You can?”
“I can.”
“Then do it, for Christ’s sake.”
“The evil must be destroyed.”
“Do it.”
“I would ask a small favor of you, first.”
“Of me?”
“Tell me about this town. What happened to you. If I know about it, I can fight what’s here, and I can help you pass on. That is my promise.”
“Oh, you can’t fight what’s here. Soon, you and her will be like me.”
“Perhaps,” Jebidiah said.
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Mary said.
“First things first,” Jebidiah said. “I don’t want to stand here with my horse and my back against the door.”
“Understood,” said the ghost.
Jebidiah found a big room, a kind of sitting room, and that was where he put his horse, fed it grain that he poured out onto the hardwood floor. Then, as the ghost watched, he pushed a long cabinet across the doorway and pulled the curtains on the window. He and Mary took a seat on a kind of settee that was before the large window with the pulled curtains. There was no light inside, and Jebidiah did nothing to find one, though oil lamps stood out from the wall in brass fixtures. They sat in the dark, it being nothing to the ghost. Jebidiah and Mary’s eyes adjusted in time, enough to make out shapes, and, of course the ghost was forever constant, white and firm.
Once seated, the Reverend pulled both his revolvers and laid them on his thighs. Mary sat tight against him. The ghost took a chair as he might have in real life. He pulled a ghostly chaw from his pocket and put it in his jaw. The room grew darker and the night grew more still.
“There’s no taste,” the ghost said after a few jaw movements. “It’s just the idea of a chaw. It’s there, and I can put it in my mouth, but it’s like the liquor the bartender serves, it’s not really there. Thing that makes me feel a bit better about that is the fact the money I pay him, it ain’t there either. Ain’t nothing really there but my urges.”
“So the bartender knows you’re here?” Jebidiah said.
“Sometimes. Sometimes not.”
“I’m sure it is a misery,” Jebidiah said. “But now, if I’m to help you, help us. I feel that we are short of time. Already the street is full of the night, and the great shadow lays heavy on the town. I can taste it when I breathe.”
“You talk funny.”
“I was educated funny.”
The ghost nodded. “That shadow comes down on the town before they do. It comes, they are not far behind. When they show up, that’s at the beat of twelve,” and with that the ghost nodded toward a big grandfather clock in the near corner of the room, “that’s when things get hairy, so to speak.”
Jebidiah struck a match and leaned it in the direction of the clock. It said
Similar Books
