What’s Past is Past

Over the hilltop emerged a young man with a slightly worried stature wielding nothing
more than a tin cup. As the boy looked out across the plains he noticed just how distinctly
his target stood out to him. This target in particular was unlike the other ones this young
lad had seen before, the area around his target featured rows of wildlife heads placed upon spears that were stuck upright into the ground. It was as if the severed wildlife heads were warning him about the danger that soon followed. With distinct fear building up inside this boy’s head he decided to do his duty quickly then hide before any real danger was after him, but he still had to wait… He looked at what was trembling in his hand, the tin cup, how cold it felt against his hand and how the cold chills felt as if they were trickling down his spine.

The boy heard something snap, he crouched low to the ground to avoid being spotted, then looked around to see what it was. At the sight of what had caused the noise the young man was relieved that he wouldn’t have to wait any longer, but he still had to do his part. He angled the tin cup with the sunlight to reflect a flash towards the Indians the boy saw. Luckily he only had to flash once, as there was an Indian scout coming towards what he thinks he just saw. The Indian briskly walked closer and closer until he was at least 50 feet away from the position the boy was waiting at. The patient young man gave the signal, at that exact moment, in one solid movement, did the boy’s Pa rise up with a rifle and fire once. Once was all that was needed. My Pa and I congratulated each other on this spectacular kill, then quickly robbed the body that laid in cold death.

Watching in amazement for witnessing this he couldn’t believe it cost him just 25 cents. Even the crowd seemed to agree with their eyes and mouth wide open while staring down into the arena. This man known as “Buffalo Bill” was quite the western performer, unfortunately this was his only time he had watched one of Buffalo Bill’s world famous shows.  The lady he was sitting next to looked at him with a questioning face, then at the sight of the man’s appearance she became light-hearted.
“Oh, what’s your name?” asked the lady with a slight sense of flirt in her tone.
“My friends call me Chuck.”
After meeting her acquaintance the show came to an end and they parted in separate ways. Chuck didn’t bother remembering her name, small chit chats like that happen all the time with him. He knows not to take it to heart so it doesn’t confuse him. In his line of business confusion was his main tool. Hopefully Chuck remembers a thing or two about Buffalo Bill’s flawless show business in his venture out west. After all was said and done at the Buffalo Bill show Chuck returned to his camp site just a few miles south of the theatre.

What Chuck’s eyes encountered as he reached the camp was nothing out of the ordinary, Irish with a bottle of whiskey and a couple of well paid ladies of pleasure. It brought a smile to Chuck’s face, knowing that Irish had spent their money well on the last night in this glorious town in Wyoming. The duo would stop at almost every town along the way to California, the fool’s state, where anybody would buy anything if you place the correct label on it. In these small towns, where gold is less desired, you have to do quite a bit more trickery to get the most money out of the deal. Chuck and Irish have a few set of rules that if they abide by them then the law and the townsfolk shouldn’t remember them by the next sunrise. Chuck believed disappearing was his best asset.
Morning came like a anvil to the face, Chuck and Irish were both extremely hungover. Around their little campfire on the prairie was some broken glass, some torn lady-like clothing, and vomit. One of Chuck’s most favorite kind of mornings. Irish was already awake, so awake in fact that he had already “borrowed” a few horses from the neighboring pasture. Knowing that this deal was too good to be true Chuck hurried to one of the horses and the two took off at gallop. Riding down the trail at full speed Irish looked over his shoulder to see if it was clear. What appeared behind him was exactly what he thought it was, the angry rancher that he had stolen the horses from. With the rifle in the rancher’s hand coming up to aim he quickly shouted out to Chuck.
“Watch yer back!”
Chuck heard the fear through his partner’s accent, he quickly veered off the course that he and Irish were taking then peered over his shoulder to see if it was following him or Irish. Luckily the angry rancher went after Irish. This gave Chuck the unfair advantage of coming up behind the rancher to catch him by surprise. He also had the advantage of being used to riding behind fast horses that pick up a lot of dust, which could be hazardous. The gap between Chuck and the rancher was closing in fast, he calculated the estimated time to target to be less than 30 seconds.  Chuck was trying to be stealthy on the highest degree, so much so that he was timing his horse’s gallops with the ranchers horse to avoid any unwanted noise. It was a good thing the rancher was full of adrenaline and focused on Irish or else his instincts would have told him to check his back.
The gap was now less than a few feet, Chuck already knew his plan of action. In one fluid movement Chuck grabbed the back of the rancher’s head, collided it with the back of the horse’s head, grabbed the rifle by the barrel, twisted it and pulled it towards him then whacked the rancher’s forehead with the butt-stock of the rifle. The rancher’s horse slowed down to a halt from becoming disoriented, the rancher was furious for not knowing what just happened. Cursing at the heavens he fell off his horse and onto his side. A figure appeared in his vision and slowly cut away the sunlight that was shining in his eyes, the rancher wasn’t sure what to say or what to do. He began to speak but nothing came out, he tried to move but his body disobeyed him. The rancher began to think back to what happened last night with his family, it was his son’s birthday. The Miss’s was dressed in her favorite dress. His daughter was carrying some cornbread on an expensive plate he spent his last paycheck on. While carrying the plate she slipped, fell backwards, and shattered the plate. The rancher remembered just how he yelled at his daughter and tried to do the same yell at this figure in his vision. He mumbled hoping something would happen, but nothing did.
Chuck saw this almost life-less body’s eyes close, but it was still breathing. Putting the barrel of the rifle up against the man’s heart, he felt the vigorous pulsing of this man’s dieing heart. Chuck didn’t think, he just pulled the trigger. This was one of his least favorite things to do, but it had to be done. He looked at what was coming down the trail. From the looks of the expert horsemanship it had to have been Irish, and as always bearing a wide smile across his face.
“Thanks for that laddy, we best’s be gettin along our way.”
“Couldn’t agree with ya more Irish, but first let’s clean this place out.”
It was Irish who claimed the boots, while Chuck was at the rancher’s horse to see if it might be of any use. He looked through the saddlebags and found some whiskey, a deck of cards, and a photograph of the rancher and his family. Normally Chuck would just toss something like a photograph on the ground without thinking twice, but there was something about this photograph that made him put it in his pocket. Irish seemed satisfied with this loot of a poor rancher, he must have found a pocket watch or something of slight interest. They left the body but deemed the horse usable and trailed it between the two of them, it would catch a hefty price in the next town.
Just a few hours of thinking while riding down a trail will put your true strength to the test. Especially for this pair who occasionally murder. The only defense is to not think of the past, thoughts from the past will lead to problems in the future. Chuck knew this since he was a boy, which taught him how to run his life without remorse. Irish on the other hand turns everything into a joke, which is a simple task that puts no strain on your emotions unless you put some thought back to them. With the skill set between the two of them almost anything can be accomplished.
A couple miles later down the dusty trail they finally reached the next town. Going down the main road at a town at around sunset was always a sight to see. Everybody was holding onto a bottle of whiskey with their lives, but still enjoying the finer things in life such as poker. Chuck loved the idea of poker, he never played but the thought of deceiving the other players into betting more and more until you show your hand and take all their money away was pure genius. It was like his way of work on a table.
Irish spotted something that made him smile like a little boy on Christmas morning, it was a House of Pleasure. He quickly hitched his horse then ran into there like a man on a mission. Chuck always enjoyed seeing Irish in such a rush like that, it never got old. Before going to get a lady for himself he decided to stop by the saloon for a quick drink and hopefully a sandwich. Walking into the saloon in a new town for the first time is always a little awkward, the regulars are just begging for entertainment by picking on the new guy. Luckily these guys were too busy doing their own thing to even notice him. Chuck told the barkeep to get him a shot of whiskey and the best sandwich he’s got back there. The barkeep was used to the type of guy Chuck is, demanding and intimidating. But he couldn’t help but ask the regular barkeeps slogan.
“Where you blown in from?”
“A few towns over, just here for the ladies. I hear you got some of the best in the state.”
“That we do.” The barkeep said with a toothy smile. “Here’s your food and poison.”
With the sandwich and the shot on the tabletop he looked around him to make sure he wasn’t being watched. Chuck knew there was no way he would be watched but it’s always a good habit for when you finally are being stared down by somebody from the government chasing the bounty on your head. Once he felt safe he scarfed down the sandwich, it was a little stale but tasted great from the lack of food he’s had for a while. The second he finished his meal he downed the shot then sat and enjoyed doing nothing. He occasionally looked around at the saloon to take a peek at all the kinds of decorations it had in it. Some neat stuff in small places like this. After a while he decided to check over his pockets to see if he had a deck of cards to play with for a while. Chuck emptied his pockets, found spare change, some really stale biscuits, and the photograph of the rancher they took the life from earlier today. It seems like this kill just won’t leave his head, Chuck has killed hundreds before for less of a reason and always seemed to forget about them within the hour. He checked over the faces in the photograph a few times before putting it back in his pocket, then headed out the door to go to what Irish referred as his “Paradise.”
Walking into the House of Pleasure you could easily tell that it had to be a Friday night, the women tonight were stunning to say the least. Chuck could see Irish sitting on a couch with a lady in each arm facing the wall. Chuck decided to go over to Irish with a joke around kind of greeting, but when Chuck saw who he was sitting with his eyes instantly widened. He couldn’t believe who it was, it was as if a ghost had smacked him in the face with barbwire. It was completely unexpected and frightful, it was the daughter from the photograph.
Knowing that Irish didn’t know who she was Chuck decided to keep it that way. It would cause problems without solutions. There really was no reason to be frightened like this, Chuck was the only one who knew anything, and as long as it stayed that way there would be no quarrels or regrets. Even still Chuck felt compelled to say something, but he held back.