Quartz: Part 12 – Flash Fiction Friday Post
See Part 1 Here.
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Adding
to his misery, he’d left the bodies where they were and left Woolsey and Brokaw
to their own devices as he hid in his tent for the rest of the night. He wasn’t
proud of it but he’d reached the end of his ability to deal with the death. It
was midday before he came out, sleepless and heartsick.
His
hope that the two mining men would have dealt with the bodies was overly
optimistic. The four lay where they’d died but the mining men were squatting,
ignoring the bodies, around the fire, their interminable cans of beans heating
beside the fire. Zeke swallowed his earnest desire to smash the both of them
with the nearby shovel for their disregard of human life and offered a pale
greeting. “Mornin’”
“Mr.
Stanford. Greetings from a great day,” Woolsey offered. “We reigned supreme in
the end. A fine Arizona morning.”
Zeke
supposed it was and walked to the shovel he’d left by the arista. “So it is.
I’ll get to burying these men.”
“What
matter!” Brokaw waved his mug of coffee. They’re dead and gone. Let the crows
have them.
Zeke
looked to the sky. Indeed, the crows and ravens were already circling. If the
men hadn’t been there, the birds would have already descended. “It’s not
Christian.” It was all he could offer. He’d held a hand in their deaths after
all, so he couldn’t be all condemning. “It’s right we bury them.”
Woolsey
sighed. It was clear the man thought Zeke a weak. “Very well.” He rose and
tossed the remains of his cup of coffee into the fire and pulled the can of
beans away. “Best get to it then.”
The
burying of four bodies made a long day and at the end, Zeke had nothing to
scribe into the wooden crosses for any of the men except Delbert but Outlaw
One, Outlaw Two and Outlaw Three. That made him even more sad than before. What
about their families? Who would mourn these men?
In
the meantime, the two mining men talked about nothing but the richness of
Zeke’s claim. They rode out the next day talking about ounces per ton, and the
method of transport. Zeke rode ahead so he couldn’t hear them. Scouting he
called it and blamed the Apache attack he’d suffered weeks ago. Really, he just
couldn’t stand the sound of them any longer. He missed the days of riding on
his own. Working on his own.
When
they got into town, he bid them farewell and rode out into the chaparral. He
needed to get some quiet. Two days later, he rode into Mrs. Estrada’s. Cesar
hurried from the barn. “Mr. Zeke! Are you all right? We were so worried when we
heard the mining men were back but you were gone!”
Zeke
dismounted. More guilt piling up. “Sorry, Cesar. I just needed to get their voices
out of my head.”
Cesar
nodded. “It’s good you are back. Miss Mary is so worried.”
Zeke
closed his eyes. Of course Mary was worried. What was he thinking. “I’ll make
it up, Cesar. Thank you.” For once, he let Cesar take Butters and lead him into
the barn while he went to the house. He remembered his manners and was doing
his best to beat the dust from his clothes when Mary raced down the steps and
slammed into him in a huge hug.
“Zeke!
Zeke! I’ve been so worried.” She hugged him so hard he didn’t think he could
breathe. That’s when she slapped him in the face making him stagger. “What do
you think you were doing! You disappeared without a word. I’ve been worried
sick.” She advanced on him until he retreated across the yard to avoid her
wrath. She was like the stories of the Norse Valkyrie, avenging goddess, hair
flying in the breeze, full of fire and ice. He’d never seen anyone more
beautiful.
“I’m
sorry. Sorry.” He held out his hands in supplication, trying to hold off her
anger.
“Sorry
doesn’t make it right!” She crossed her arms, breath coming fast from her
anger. “I was worried sick. You just disappeared. The sheriff has men out
looking for you!”
“I
apologize. I’ll apologize to the sheriff, too. Mary. It’s been a hard week.
Will you forgive me?”
She
smoothed her loose tendrils of hair back as though her hair angered her as
well. He wondered that it didn’t come out by the roots. “Very well. But you’d
better have a good explanation.”
“I do.” He convinced her to walk with him and they wandered across Mrs. Estrada’s little ranch. First, feet apart, then closer. By the time they were by the stream, they were hand in hand. By the time the supper bell rang, they had reconciled.
Words: 798
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