Chapter 11, Part One

No Honor; Ch. 11 Pt. 1: Restless Natives

The bad that comes from "no more opium"?

At the time, I didn't have the slightest clue as to what he meant, but I kept listenin', an' I did learn more. Eventually, the three of 'em agreed on sixty-five for the Asians, and thirty-five for Marco's pockets. It would stay like that for a year, and then they'd take another look at it. The Asians called the woman "Ree Tah", and she assured them that yes, that was the deal, and no, Marco was def'nitely, not changin' it. The fact that she was handling the man's business was intrestin', in itself.

In fact, I reckon the whole thang was a major deal. I decided that I needed to get word o' this to Carter, and as soon as possible. I had to figure out a way o' gettin' his attention, somehow. But I'd have ta settle on somethin' after work; I didn't want ta lose too much money, and I was already runnin' late.

I opened up shop about an hour later than normal, and the first patrons came in, thirty seconds later. I reckon that, though I wasn't sellin' opium, or morphine, or sex... directly, anyway... I was still doin' okay. Come to think of it, there was an opium den here, years ago, but it burned down, shortly before Marco took over. After that, I did see an increase in business, so I wondered what a return to tha past might mean.

Dave and Wally walked in about seven, and I was grateful, cause it was gettin' busy. After we got drinks, inta the hands o' those that wanted 'em, I leaned over an' got Wally's ear.

"I been hearin' a lot o' talk, an' jokin' about Indians tonight... You know what's goin' on?"

He nodded, and by his face, he wasn't too pleased with the whole affair.

"Buncha Marco's boys is missin'. About six total, over the past couple nights."

"So now they think it's Indians? Last I heard, it was Carter gettin' the blame."

Jim Sheldon was sittin' close by, with Geoffrey. He musta overheard, and he decided ta speak up.

"It's both of 'em," he said, "I'd put money on it. I'm sure he's the one put 'em up to it, in the first place."

"Hold on", I said. "That's crazy paranoia... How you figure it's Indians doin' it? That could be anybody out there."

They all were sayin', "No, no...", and,  "It's Indians, Wayne", and then Geoff said, "They scalped 'em."

"What?"

Jim said, "Besides the ones missing, two were found dead. One of 'em was shot, and the other was stabbed,  and scalped... probably with a tomahawk."

Walt said, "The fuckin' freak is ridin' round wit' Indians... You believe that shit?

"The man's got no honor, no loyalty at all."

I said, "What do you mean? It's Marco's boys gettin' scalped, not us."

Geoff said, "Cause we ain't in the way", and then he laughed.

Jim said, "No, you're right. You're right... They're bound on getting revenge, and they're ready ta tear this town apart to do it... All Moon has to do is show 'em who, and how ta hit, and that's it. They're dead."

"Makes me sick ta my stomach", Walt said. "He probably think he's one of 'em, himself... I mean, shit, he already takin' money, an' orders from 'em. So why not join the tribe? Why dress and ride like a white man?"

Jim said, "Well, he's the whitest man I ever saw. There's no denying that."

Him and Geoff got ta laughin', but Walter was not amused.

Another story goin' round the bar that night, was about how it woulda been ten missin', except some Mexicans were seen skippin' town, early that mornin'. Apparently, one o' Sheldon's servants was up, and at his home, when he spotted three of 'em in a wagon, with one drivin' the horse south, probably ta Mexico. I talked ta Jim, and he confirmed it. So that was twelve of 'em, a dozen o' Marco's camp, that he lost over three night's time.

I was sure there'd be more. Behind the jokes and the laughter, an' even the anger, the people o' this town were scared. Really scared... So, if that was true, it was doubly true for the Mexicans. As I said, they were the targets, at that time, anyway; no one knew who'd be next ta get scalped.

It could be a white man, if he got in the way. It could be that Marco was on the choppin' block, hisself. Either way, all of this talk about Indians was not good for 'im. Remember, he had the whole town payin' him, for the sole purpose, o' protectin' em from them Indians and everythang else... and you can't do that if ya soldiers is turnin' tail.

After I got off, I walked the few steps, to my front porch. There was no Shadow, and therefore, no Carter around, but I wasn't su'prised. I thought about it, then I went inside for a candle. I came back out, wit' it lit, an' I set it on tha railing. Then, I sat myself on the bench there, ta read.

I was hopin' he was still lookin' fer candles, and I hoped that it's place on the rail wasn't offensive enough, to get me beat ta death. Marco's boys were still out an' about that night, but they was travelin' in pairs, and sometimes in threes. One pair in particular trotted by, on their steeds. The one closest to the house looked at me, and then at my candle, and then back at me again.

I smiled, and tipped my hat to 'im. For a second, he looked off in the distance, and I could see the wheels in his head, turnin'. But then he looked back an' nodded at me, and he and his amigo rode on. After a few more hours, I got tired, and without thinkin', I blew out the candle and went in ta sleep.

I didn't find this out 'til later, but that Mexican that nodded at me,  he went missin' that very same night. His buddy woke up sometime the next mornin', wit' a bloody nose and a bump on his head. Their horses was never found. On the plus side, no one got scalped that night, and the town, though edgy, was a little more at ease.

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