Death, as it goes 

“Hey! You c’mere for a second,” the tall dark stranger yelled at me. I approached him with caution, noticing the rifle in his left hand. His right dangled beside his belt buckle near his holster. His clothes had dark tones of black and grey and was covered in dirt. His feet stood shoulder width a part as he looked towards the end of the settlement like he’d just won a shot out. His ten-gallon hat was torn at its edges and had a hole near the very top, right in the center. His stare was fixed at the edge of town and never glared in my direction.

 
“I’m lookin’ for a madam. She’s short and goes by the name of Ruth. You seen anybody like that,” he asked in a low toned voice.

 
I hesitated. His question felt unsettling.

 
“What do ya want wit her,” I asked. Slowly, his eyes turned to me. His gaze was intimidating. His eyes never blinked, his grin never smiled, his face was unwrinkled. His expression felt blank and emotionless, but it wasn’t. There were some ill intentions to him asking of the madam, so I didn’t tell him. “It’s a big town mister,” I said, slowly backing away from him. “I don’t know nothing about that name.”

 
“Hey,” he yelled. Suddenly, I stood still waiting for his reply. I couldn’t tell if I stopped from fear or from respect to the new stranger in town, but either way my motionless body was paralyzed from his words. It was like hearing for the first time, or the last. “Where can I get a drink around here?”

 
“The saloon is right down that road,  at the intersection on your right, you can’t miss it” 

“Thanks sheriff,” he said.  

With the saloon in sight, he started walking towards it. The wind from the sandstorm earlier started to pick up again, kicking dust everywhere. I tilted my hat, to keep the sand out of my eyes, then noticed his shoes. They were clean, like they came right out of the factory. I glanced behind me to see if I could spot a stagecoach or some horses, but there was nothing.  

 
“Excuse me sir,” I called out, “I didn’t catch your name.” 

“John Hancock” 

“Well John, there are no weapons allowed in this town, So, I’m gonna need you to hand over your rifle and your side.” He took two more steps before coming to a halt. 

“Can you point me towards the brothel,” he asked.  
 
“Yes sir I can, but you’ll have to hand over your rifle and side.”

The wind picked up a bit, kicking sand everywhere. The morning sun beamed down on us as he dropped his rifle and belt holster. 

“The brothel is right across from the saloon, on the left.”  

He continued to walk towards the saloon without another word. I stood there for a while then decided to follow him to make sure he wasn’t stirin’ up any trouble.

 
Our town wasn’t too big, but it did have character. The brothel and saloon were some of the older buildings here. The sheriffs’ office and bank came next, then some smaller invested buildings started forming the town. The oldest ones are near the intersection in the middle of town, so it was usually crowded, but today it was empty. It was Sunday, so there weren’t a lot of travelers comin’ through and some residents spent most of their time in the Inn. I looked up towards to sun.

“Sun’s getting high.” 

I walked up to the front of the saloon, then slowly pushed the swinging doors open. As usual the place was pretty packed. The card players were in the back corner and the girls were being fondled with. The old timers were sitting in the middle of the place chewing tobacco. The piano was lively and some regulars were at the bar, as the sound of coughing and laughter filled the entire place.

 
“Hey sheriff, how’d your mornin’ walk go,” drunken Joe asked me while he sat at the bar.

“Just as well as that bottles doin’.” 

“Ahhh,” he snickered as he stumbled and almost fell out of his chair.  Y’know my wife just went into labor. Didn’t even know she was pregnant. All I do is work and she went on and got herself pregnant. Now, wha’d she gone and do that for? All that kid is gone do is cause trouble.” 

I walked over to drunken joe and leaned over the counter of the bar. “Have a drink on me! Congrats Joe.” 

“Yeah well, kids.” 

I looked over to the very end of the bar and noticed John sitting on a stool, having a drink. He looked like he was waiting for something but I wasn’t sure. He sat on the stool with both legs up on the support beams. It was odd. He just looked forward at the mirror, back at his own reflection. I didn’t even think he talked to anybody.

 
“Hey, Fred,” I said to the barkeeper, “What’s his story? Did he say anything to you,” I asked gesturing in John’s direction.  

“Nothin. All he asked was for a lady named Ruth and a shot of whisky.  

“Did he tell you why he wanted her? 

“Nope, that’s all he said. He’s been looking like that since he walked in.” 

“Hmmm, alright I’m gonna go talk to him,” I said as I leaned in his direction only to be stopped. 

“Be careful sheriff, I don’t like the boots on that one,” Fred said.  

I brushed past and walked up to John as I placed my hand on the counter and Fred slide me the bottle of whisky. His posture didn’t change. He continued to look straight into the mirror at his reflection. I picked up his shot glass and poured some whisky into it as I looked at his hat a little closer. The hole at the front seemed to be from a bullet, and the cuts along the edges could have been a knife. I put his shot glass in front of him and placed the bottle on the counter.  

“Your hat looks a bit worn out. What’d, you been in a shot out or something boy,”  He picked up his shot glass and downed it in one gulp.  
“Yeah, something like that.”  

“Where you from,” I asked. 

“Sheriff, I don’t want no trouble.” 

“Son, I just wanna know where you from.”  

“CHEATER! I’LL KILL YOU!” 

“What now,” I said as I turned my attention to the card table in the corner. 

“HE’S CHEATIN SHERIFF! I KNOW IT! I’VE NEVER LOST A GAME!” 

“What’d you talking about Sal?” 

“Look at my hand sheriff! Look at it,” lucky Sal demanded. 

I walked over to him and picked up his hand, then I looked over at Boone who was holding a royal flush.  

“You have two black aces and two black eights. What’s the problem,” I asked.  
Sal I wasn’t cheatin,” Boone replied.  

“Don’t believe him sheriff! He's as crooked as a dog's hind legs! Throw him in the bucket! He wouldn’t know a flush if his crapper had water in it! Throw him in the bucket!” 

“I’ll have you know, I do know things! And I’m not about to sit here and take these insults from a yellow-bellied dog licker like yourself,” Boone replied.  

“Boys! I don’t have time for your yappin so if you want to do something, I suggest you take it outside,” I said.  

“Come on you ugly burnt boot, I’ll show you,” lucky Sal yelled as he stumbled outside.  

Boone stood up and walked towards me. 

“I’m sorry for makin a fuss. I didn’t even know what I had until I put the cards on the table. I thought I was bluffin,” he said.  

“You’re alright Boone.”  

Boone staggered outside to meet Sal. I could hear their argument from here, but that’s not what bothered me. I looked back at John and he hadn’t moved. He continued to stare straight ahead, right at his reflection. His posture didn’t change.

 
“Why, Madam Ruth, I didn’t know you were in town. Did you hear about my wife? She done gone and got herself pregnant. Now, wha’d she gone and do that for? All that kid is gone do is cause trouble.” 

Suddenly, John’s head quickly veered in her direction. My head darted left to see a short woman standing at the front of the saloon. I stood still, as my eyes turned back to John to see what he would do. He dropped a bag on the counter, that jingled from the sound of the clacking coins, then stood to his feet.

 
“Close tab.” 

As he stood up, the bar got quiet. The piano player stopped playing and the can-can girls stopped dancing. I stood there with a hand on my holster ready to draw as he started walking towards the entrance. Every face in the bar followed him as he advanced towards the woman. Just a few steps away from Ruth, I pulled my gun from its’ holster, but he didn’t stop. My heart started to beat wildly as he was inches away from her. I could feel sharp pains in my chest and a cough in my throat as time seemed to slow down. I placed my finger on the trigger ready for the worst, then suddenly, he tilted his hat at her as he walked past, in respect.  

“Madam.” 

The bar resumed as the doors swung to a close. I let out a sigh of relief, as the sharp pain in my chest resided a bit. I looked over to Fred with a look of confusion as I re-holstered my weapon.  
 
“Ahhhh!”  
 
Unexpectedly, I looked over to Madam Ruth just as she fell to the ground. I ran over to her to see if I could find any scars or bruises. She looked fine.  

“Doc! I need you,” I yelled at drunken Joe.  

He staggered to the floor then glanced over her body. With his eyes open wider than the full moon he declared her dead.  

I stood up and ran outside to find John, but he was nowhere to be found. I ran to the intersection and looked in all directions. There were no tracks to be seen or horses to be heard. He left no trace of his arrival. I ran over to the sheriffs’ office to see if his guns were there, but they were gone. He left just as quickly as he came. 
“Sheriff! Sheriff,” The doc called out. I think I know why she died,” he said as he stumbled and staggered in my direction.  

“Pull yourself together doc!”  

“Sorry, Sheriff. I had a little too much to drink. But I wanted to tell you that her cause of death was. . . . . .” 

He continued on about the nature of her death, telling me some terms I didn’t understand and even some gibberish. Eventually he walked off and headed back to the saloon, leaving me with my thoughts. I never figured out what John was doing in our town or what he wanted with Madam Ruth. All I knew at that point was how she died.

 

One word I’d never heard before.

​

Pneumonia.