Boon by Ed Kurtz (smallest ebook reader txt) 📗

I could have told him that wasn’t a good idea, but then, I never did cotton much to his type. Name-calling was no way to treat folks. A man like that had to learn one way or another.

“Seeing as I’m an agreeable woman, I’m going to give that one to you, because I know you ain’t nothing more than an ignorant hayseed,” Boon told him. “But now that I’ve told you, you do know better, which means the next time some trash like that passes what few teeth you got left, I will be full within my rights to cut you down.

“Now, be a good boy and nod your head to show me you understand.”

“I—I can’t,” the man groaned.

I could see then that he was, in fact, missing quite a few teeth. The blood on his gums and lips indicated that this was a very recent loss. He was right, though—there was no way he could nod his head when she had such a good grip on his hair.

I walked out into the street, laying waste to the good work done by the boy with the rake, and shot a glance over at the red-and-white-striped pole installed beside the barber shop’s front door. The barber—a reedy fellow with little hair of his own—was locking the door and closing the shutters. It didn’t look like I was going to get that trim, after all.

“I didn’t get much in there,” I called out to Boon, pointing behind me to the rooming house. “How are you getting along?”

“I don’t think people in this town are very polite,” she said.

The man she had by the hair moaned and groaned. He kept saying he was sorry, over and over. I sort of doubted he was all that sorry. Mostly, I figured he just wanted Boon to let him go.

“Seems to happen a lot,” I said.

She just sneered.

People were beginning to gather on the boardwalks, on either side of the street, to have a look at the crazed woman dressed like a man and assaulting one of their own fine citizens. Not too closely, of course—nobody wanted to get noticed by her. But she was building quite the audience nevertheless.

Stealth work never really was her style.

“Hold there,” came a voice then. “Hold up there, miss.”

From the planks on the boardwalk came a wide-shouldered man with salt-and-pepper hair and a sort of slow, swaying walk like he’d been at sea for a long time. He also wore a star on his blue-striped shirt, right where his heart was. There was a pair of revolvers strapped cross draw to his hips to complement the star, probably also courtesy of the Town of Darling that appointed him.

“Law,” I hissed at Boon.

“Why don’t you let Lenny go,” the lawman said, “and we’ll have us a little chat about what’s the matter.”

He sounded so calm that it almost calmed me down, except the presence of lawmen never put me at ease. For her part, Boon did in fact release Lenny, but not before taking a fistful of his hair to remember him by. Lenny mewled like a dying cat, scrambling away in the dust and clutching at the top of his head where there now was a brand-new, bright pink bald spot.

Boon opened her hand and let the hair blow away in the breeze. The lawman stopped a few feet away from her and gave her a look-over.

“Sheriff,” she said.

“Marshal, as a matter of fact,” he said, pointing a thumb at the star. The thumbnail was peculiarly clean and cut. “Marshal Tom Willocks. And yourself, ma’am?”

The marshal rested his hands on his sides, just above the curled pearl grips of his guns. Boon still wore hers, too. My rifle remained in its scabbard, which remained with my paint horse. I was not in the habit of walking around armed and ready. All I did was stand in the middle of the street like a fool and gawk like everybody else.

“My name is Boonsri Angchuan,” she said. “This man insulted me and I have had my satisfaction. What else might I do for you, Marshal Willocks?”

“I figure I can believe that,” said the marshal. “Lenny Reed is a character, all right. ’Spect that bald spot might remind him to keep his mouth shut, but then again, probably not. You just come into town today, Miss An—ank…”

“Angchuan. And yes. Myself and my friend here, Herr Edward Splettstoesser, lately of Pine Bluff, Arkansas.”

“Well,” drawled the lawman, “if the two of you will forgive me not trying either of those names with this fat tongue of mine, I would appreciate it if y’all would accept my hospitality over a cup of coffee in my office, if only for a moment. My deputy makes the worst coffee this side of the Indian Territory. You’ve got to taste it to believe it.”

“Are we being put under arrest?” I asked. I was looking at Boon but asking anyone who could answer. The whole scene was a bit puzzling to me.

“There something you got to confess?” Willocks said. He was grinning, but I didn’t think it was very funny.

I shook my head.

“Edward,” Boon said, “shut up. Yes, Marshal Willocks. We will take you up on that bad coffee.”

The coffee was worse than I imagined. After one taste, I set the cup on the marshal’s desk and regarded it cagily. He laughed about that. I did not.

“Now here’s a couple of things about Darling,” he said at some length. “One is, this town is growing by leaps and bounds, which usually means we’re happy as a pig in slop to greet newcomers, even if they are just passing through.”

“Can’t say as any town I ever passed through sent out a marshal to greet me,” Boon said. She was still drinking that godawful coffee for some unknowable reason. I looked around for the deputy who made it, but he was nowhere to be seen. I think I just wanted to know what a man who would make something so unpalatable