Chapter 1, Part Two

No Honor Ch 1, Pt. 2: Samaritan;

Right away, I thought he was dead. He wasn't movin' at all, as far as I could tell. I looked up, to find the man he was chasin', but he was gone. Everyone was, it seemed like. A few might have peeked out they windas maybe, but it bein' three hours before sunrise, the street was deserted.

Again, my curiosity got the better of me. I had never seen a white man that was.... well, that was white like that. I wanted to know where he came from, and how he came to be layin' there, in front of me.

Plus I figured, if he was dead he was dead. All I'd do then was walk away. Marco's boys'd pick his pockets, and dump his body in a ditch somewhere.

Well, maybe I'd pick his pockets first. I took a first step toward him, and he moved almost at the same time. It was slight; his leg moved about an inch. I took another step, and he moved it again.

Looking up and down the way, I didn't see a soul, and it struck me as odd. My bar closes, bout a quarter to four. It couldn't 'a been later than say, four-thirty. Granted, though its a four street town, everyone in it didn't stay up late drinkin', but I'm sure all my patrons, didn't drink themselves to sleep either.

Well, I went right up to him. He was awake then, and I was very, very surprised to see, that he was cryin' his eyes out.

"Hold on, son. Where you hurt at?"

"Midnight", he said.

"What?"

He just kept cryin'. He might have been hurtin', I couldn't tell, but that wasn't what he was cryin' about.

I looked around again, and again I saw no one. The man was pinned under the horse's right flank, right up to his neck, and I had no clue how to get him outta there. I started thinkin' about Dave and Wally, but those boys had closed up shop, almost an hour ago. Even if they were still up, they were two streets away, and I didn't wanna go that far.

The man's crying brought me back to the scene. Right then I noticed, that he was stroking the dead horse, with his one, partially free hand.

I finally put it together. 'Midnight' he had said. He was cryin' about the damn mare!

"Sir", I said. "Sir, I'm really sorry about your girl here. But if we don't get you out from under 'er, and quick, yer gonna be just as dead. Can you move 'er?"

I'm not sure he even heard me. At least, for his sake, his bawling had quieted down some. I cursed at myself. I knew I couldn't move him alone, and what men I could call out to help would just shoot, and rob him.

Well, the next one I thought o' was Big Millie. She's up there in age, our dear, sweet, "Madame Mildred". Not quite as old as I am... Mid forties, maybe? I didn't think she was that strong, necessarily, but Millie's a hefty woman, and maybe that weight would make the difference.

And maybe it wouldn't. I didn't know, but I was tired and I was scared, for him and for myself. Her place was just up the street some, so I left him and hurried that way.

I didn't see who Marco was with, earlier that night, but I hoped to God it was those playthings he's usually dragging around. If he had happened, to be in the mood for a plus-size woman, Millie would be at his house, and the powder white knight, with the heart o' gold there, was dead. 

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