by Bargis Tryhol on 31/08/11 at 8:06 pmThe Streets of Bordello Falls
ONCE UPON A WAGON…
Pete and Re-Pete spotted it first as the wind blew ripples of sand around their hooves. In the distance, amid the distortion of rising heat and low trailing plumes of red dust, a wagon could be seen drawn by two tired mules.
“Hey Percy…Shit,I mean Diablo! Lookie there! Some dude’s way the fuck out here hauling a wagon. Wonder if he’s heading for that same smoke smudge we is too?”
Diablo took his neckerchief down from covering part of his eyes and peered into the dusty haze. He could see the lone figure of a driver snapping a whip over the heads of two disinterested mules. A second or two later he heard the loud snap of the Spanish bullwhip.
“We’s be right smart to head up this here arroyo and wait a spell. I reckon he’ll be right by us and we can say a little hello!” A sneer cracked the caked dust on Buck’s face.
Saying nothing, Diablo drew his Winchester from the scabbard and jacked a fresh round into the chamber. He knew Buck’s little hellos usually resulted in food, money, fights, or pussy.
The creaking wagon thumped over unseen rocks and roots as it turned into the bottom of the dry creek bed. The driver appeared to be mostly asleep in his seat, but he somehow still practiced a repeated gesture of a random whip snap to keep the mules moving. He never saw the movement to his left.
“Grab some air pardner!”
Buck’s raspy pirate voice jarred the man to instinctively reach for his shotgun, and with a fluid motion cocked both hammers and raised the fearsome weapon.
The shot echoed from hundreds of rocks, soon it faded away like a diminished heartbeat.
It was too late as Buck had the drop on the old man. The jolt of a .44 slug tumbled him easily from the wooden seat onto a nearby cactus bush. The mules froze in place both from fear and from exhaustion.
The man sported a heavy, long beard and was bald. The trousers were new looking and so was his leather vest. A sudden gust of hot wind picked the man’s sweat encrusted hat from the ground and launched it on a macabre ballet as it danced along the sagebrush as if it had a mind and reason of its own. Buck blew the wisps of oily blue smoke from the gun barrel and reloaded a fresh cartridge.
Buck noticed the wagon’s wheels pressed deep into the sand and it stirred his imagination of what might be inside. “Let’s take a look see at what he has in that there wagon he was so hard pressed to drive across this shithole.”
Diablo wiped his gloved hand over the wooden side of the, the dust peeled away revealing… BELFORE FREIGHT LINES.
“The dude’s just a durn freighter!” Diablo’s voice was so loud, long rivulets of disturbed dust slinked away from the tarpaulin and down the side of the wagon.
Buck and Diablo dismounted and tore the tarp away from the wagon, revealing wooden packing crates. In bold, red blocked letters was…Consigned order: Bordello Falls General Merchandise and Millinery Shop.
“Open one up! Let’s see what’s we got for our troubles.” The eagerness in Buck’s voice betrayed the moments pleasure of getting something for blood.
Diablo hammered on a crate, and soon the wooden top popped open. “Looks like dresses! Yeah, ladies shit, and shoes, and underwear too!”
“Just great!” Buck muttered to himself as he gave the closest mule a kick.”What else is there, what’s this magazines?”
“Let me see…Durn pulp mags. Lookie here, this one’s called ‘How To Build A Writer’s Career Using Cheryl Cole’ By a guy called Colonel Juan…You know him?”
‘Nahhh! Must be some queer assed city slicker feller from South America or somethin’. What else is there?”
“Wait, here’s a leather packet whole fulla stuff. Sez…Bordello Falls Sheriff on the outside.”
Buck grabbed the pouch and loosened the ties. He poured the contents onto the wooden seat. Papers. Dozens of papers with pictures on the top and a dark heavy caption that immediately caught his attention.
WANTED: PISSGUM BROTHERS $5,000 DOLLAR REWARD DEAD OR ALIVE
“Oh fuck! Now we’s in it real deep shit!” Blurted Buck as he smeared the dust from the flyer.
“Sez here we’s wanted for robbing that damn hag injun squaw! Sez we stole gold from her! Lying sack a shit. All we’s took was some corn and bacon fat!” Buck squinted and thought back to when he grabbed the sack and ran to the horses. It felt a tad heavy for just bacon and corn.
“Go get that there sack and let’s have a look-see!” Diablo took the sack from deep within the bedroll on Pete.
“Go head, pour it all out!” Diablo dumped the sack’s contents on the discarded crate top.
“Holy monkey shit!” Dozens of gold coins were mingled in with the dried corn. Buck quickly counted over two thousand dollars worth of gold.
“You reckon they have a posse looking for us?” Diablo nervously glanced over his shoulder toward the horizon.
“Well, it don’t take no genius to figure if five grand is at stake some asshole is looking for us, fuck head!” Buck quickly scooped up the coins and placed them back into the empty sack.
“One thing for sure, the one place we can be sure no one knows about this shit is Bordello Falls! We’s got the wanted posters and they don’t know jack shit about us! Now, all we need is some sorta disguise so if someone does head into town they’ll miss eyeballing us.”
Buck’s eyes glinted and squinted as he thought of a plan. He bit down on a dried grass twig as the wheels of deceit spun in his head, “I got it!” He slapped his thigh as dust rose in a cloud.
“We do us an old pirate trick we’s learned from the Buggerall days!” He pointed toward the crates and asked his brother, “So what size woman’s clothes do you wear?”
It took about an hour to remove a few weeks worth of beard growth with a rusty razor and tepid water, but soon they had some semblance of womanhood between them. First, they switched the mules with their horses. Second, they buried the driver under a pile of rocks and sagebrush. Finally, each dressed in the latest New York fashions as bustles and high laced heels replaced worn jeans, chaps, and vests.
“Keep our duds in our bedrolls. Now go pick yerself out a real frilly hat!”
Together they boarded the wagon dressed as women…one wearing pretty pink print cotton and the other a grand purple velvet strapless evening gown. Upside-down coffee cups substituted as breasts as they carefully concealed their firearms under layers of taffeta and lace.
Diablo snapped the reins as they headed the wagon westward toward the unsuspecting town of Bordello Falls. Behind, the wind picked up the wanted posters and scattered them to the wind and dust.