Almost dark: a short story:
Hello Ellen. By now you’ve probably heard that I’m not coming back. That’s probably true, but it ain’t of my choosing. I’m OK for now, as the heat has died down a bit and I have to say I’m comfortable if a bit tired from the running. Jimmy cashed in over on the rim rock, took a fall where I couldn’t get to him to help and really couldn’t stop long to think about either that or him. He was game and stuck with me even when we knew we were done for. Funny though, I always took ol’ Jim for a yellow fellow, but he bucked up and fought like the wind when the chips were down. It’s just a shame that a poor lout like me makes it through when a kid like that doesn’t. I’ll never forget the sight of that whirling pool of ‘apaches twisting and biting into the dust from a full raging charge to a disconnected scatter when old Jim came out of those woods just a whoopin’ and hollerin’ with a six-gun blazing fire from each hand. I don’t remember whether I even fired or not. I think I was just as scared and awed by Jimmy as the reds were. Hell he must’ve plugged three of them before they figured the score. Oh Ellen, he was a sight! Well Jim he got em’ turned long enough to let me get around the rim and he knew it! I lit a shuck out of there like my hair was on fire but I saw him, our quiet Jimmy, holding back the rushing tide of flowing savages like he was Hell’s fury alive.
They finally got enough lead in him to knock him over the edge of the rock. I got dusted with a few but Jim took the wuss of it as I ran past him. I swear to you, Ellen, he looked at me with a fire in his eyes and a grim smile on his face that said to me “it’s OK old man, this is my fight”. Well I guess it was considerin’ how them reds did his folks and all, but I reckon he took it real personally. I know his body is a layin’ down in that ravine right now but I bet his carcass is still wearing a smile after the show he put on!
How we made it through this wretched piece of country this far I’ll never know. They must’ve let us come knowing we’d eventually be trapped behind this barren rim rock. Doesn’t really matter though; now it’s down to me against what feels like the whole damned apache nation and it is what it is.
These last days of being the hunted have taken a toll on this body. I’m laid up in a draw of an old canyon. I have this pain in my side that you wouldn’t believe! I never run so damn hard in my life. I can hear em’ Ellen, stalking around like whisps of wind. There are squirrels and birds, sure, stirring the leaves and pine needle patches but the sound is different. These reds make so little noise sweeping around that you know it’s them when you don’t hear it. The way I figure it they’ve got me surrounded by now. I could make a dash for it through the arroyo but that’s a fool’s game. They’d have me dead to rights before I even got up a good head of steam. No, I’m going to stay here and rest as I finish this here letter to you. I hope baby Jesus don’t mind that I’m writing you this on the back of bible pages but it’s the only damn thing I got left.
Well, anyway, it’s almost dark and I’m powerful tired. Funny that dark comes so soon here as it seems we just took off a runnin’ at daybreak. The sun has a way to go before it touches the rim but I swear it’s getting darker by the minute. I’m done writing for now as I cain't hardly see the paper and my side is wet and hurting mighty bad. Tell them boys at home to leave it alone. All the gold in the world ain’t worth this kind of Hell. I guess that’s all. I’m all in and I can see them cussed redskins poking over the ridge.
Love, Jean.
