The Double Life Of An Outlaw

Right Place Right Time

“Alright kid, it looks like you’re set,” the man at the store said, tucking away the list of items I’d ordered and paid for, “you getting enough supplies to feed an army.”

“Just my sister comin up from the Midwest, along with a very pregnant wife,” I lied, “gotta get the house stocked up sir.”

“Good man,” he chuckled, “I’ll have the delivery boy drop it off by tomorrow night.”

“Greatly appreciated, Clyde,” I smirked, tipping my hat to him.  He tucked away the few extra bills I’d paid for the quick service, and I started towards the saloon for my next order.  Billy and the pals wanted some booze to make sure they could stay holed up if need be.  In the mean time they were making quick work of turning the bunker beneath the house into their own personal stash house.  They’d had enough guns and gold bars there to make Magellan a jealous man. 

“Hey kid, com’ere.” The barber called from the corner. 

“yessir,” I replied quickly, jogging over to the man.

“I’ll give you a buck, you help Lonnie here,” the older man said, “Damn kid won’t let me help him, but he’s gonna break his neck if he does it alone.”

“I’d be happy to,” I smiled.  The older gentleman passed me a coin and I tucked it away in my pocket, “What do you need help with, sir.”

“get up on that ladder there and tighten the sign Lonnie put up,” he said, gesturing at the sign.  ‘Lonnie’ was over by an outdoor kiln heating up a pair of tongs to close the sign off with. 

“PA, dammit I told you I’d do it.”

“This town is crawling with young blood,” the old man chuckled, “let them do the hard work.”

“Much obliged sir,” I smiled kindly.  The man wasn’t one to argue and shook his head as he pulled out the pair of tongs.  He handed them up to me and I started closing the gaps in the sign so that it’d stay if we got a bad dust storm. 

“Lonnie, john,” A man said, walking over.  He tipped his hat, and that’s when I noticed a badge that read sheriff, “how’s the business holding up.”

“Good,” the older man smiled, “got a youngin’ doin the heavy lifting.  How’s setting up the next town going?”

The sheriff chuckled, clapping the old man on the back.  I kept working the steel until it was pliable enough to close. 

“Wish I could get some hired hands,” he laughed, “governer stuck me with some old farts who wouldn’t know an armadillo from a turkey.  But we need the bodies if we’re gonna set up the bank by next week.  You know how rich folk are.  Won’t move to a town unless it’s got a bank, post office, and general store.  I guess roughing it is out of the question for the American people.”

“Kids will never understand the value of hard work.”

“Sir,” I asked, interrupting their conversation, “I’m gonna need a re-heat to get the other side done.”

“Lonnie, what are you waitin on,” the older man, john said, slapping his son’s arm, “Kid needs a re-heat.”

I passed down the tongs and he went back over to the kiln.  The sheriff looked at me, “you new here, kid?”

“Just moved a few weeks ago.  Paw was a farmer up in the Midwest.  Ever since the war he’s found it hard to recover…He passed because of pneumonia in the winter.”

“That’s a damn shame.  Good, hard working americans losing their money because the n***o thinks they deserve something,” John spat. 

“Look at you, talking like you know about the war,” the sheriff chuckled.

“I may have been a tyke, but I remember the stories my paw used to tell me.”

“Son that war started in 61,” the sheriff laughed.

“yessir, and I was born in that very year,” I recounted, “paw said it was the leanest year they had because every hand quit by the time I was toddling around.  Hell I’m pretty sure most of em fought just to leave the farm.”

“Damn shame,” John spat again.

“Anyways, I’m Moving down to some property he purchased out here with my wife and kid sister to get a fresh start.  Too much modern junk back home,” I commented, “you hear they got a whole city that’s lit by electricity now out in Wabash?”

“Crazy,” John said, lighting up a cigar, “just crazy.  Next they’ll be talkin about getting rid of horses and beaming people to outer space.”

“it’s a crazy world we live in,” the sheriff sighed in agreeance.  Lonnie came back with a fresh, hot pair of tongs and I finished up the job.

“Listen,” I said, coming down the ladder, “I don’t know how yer hiring works, but I’m fairly new to town.  I understand if you don’t want untrusted hands, but I work, and I work hard.  If you ever need my help, I live about a mile past Mason’s Dairy farm.  I help out there from time to time.  He’d probably give me a reference.”

“I appreciate that son,” the sheriff said, “I’ll be lookin into that.  Like I said, the idiots the governor left me with don’t know their head from a hole in the ground, and I’d appreciate a good man with a head on his shoulders.”

“don’t know where else to leave it,” I laughed, “my wife’d kill me if I forgot it.”

We shared a laugh and I wished them well before heading to the saloon with the coin in my pocket and a smile on my face, knowing I’d been in the perfect place to get the perfect lead on a heist.