Twenty Bodies

Chapter one: The man with no name.

The man was falling. Falling fast from a great height above the clouds. He screamed but it was lost in the titan of the wind, roller coasting in and out of his ears. He saw huge birds of prey beside him and his face a puzzle of confusion as his body fell faster and faster towards the earth. The wind was cold dancing through his hair, his eyes were seeping water as he picked up speed. He tried flapping his arms to manufacture a sort of flying motion but to no avail. The ground was getting larger and larger and as the man closed his eyes, he hit the ground with a 'boom.' Sand and dust flying up from the impacted area.
"HOLY SHIT" the caretaker said, spilling his whiskey all over his lap as the man fell in front of him.
The caretaker walked over to the indent in the earth to see a man wearing nothing but the skin on his back. The old man looked up to the sky, rubbed the back of his head, then looked back down at the fallen man, who had made his own grave with his body by slamming down to earth.
"Hey! Fella! Are you still kicking down there?" he spoke in a broken, almost frightened, voice.
The man didn't move from the pit until suddenly a burst of breath escaped him and he shot up. His back erecting like a stepped on rake.
"SWEET JESUS'' the old man shouted, wiping the sweat from his brow.
"Where am I?" the man questioned in a shaken panic.
The old man was stunned in place. He watched the man in the grave stare at him, the words not being able to vocalize by the sheer confusion in his brain.
"B- B-Boy, I don't know where the hell you came from or why you are exposed but you're in Haven now!"
He said his words shakily "Haven?"
The caretaker replied rubbing his eyes - "Well not haven exactly, it's about half a mile that way" The caretaker proceeded to point north. In the far distance, the man could see above the sun's dancing rays a small town built on a desert, bustling with life. Small figures moving in and out of the buildings.
"This here boy, where you landed, is my cemetery. Don't get many visitors you see, but you seem to have landed in one of my plots. Lucky for you the body hasn't arrived yet!"
The old man took off his glasses and rubbed them with an old cloth. He looked at the gravestone titled "Jack Auerbach.'' Beaneath this name of the brand new stone read 1884-1901.
"You ain't him is you?" the old man chuckled but really, he just wanted an answer.
"I'm not... I don't think so anyway."
"Have you been drinking, son?"
"No but I could surely use one."
"I'll get you one fella but my mama always said you shake before you dance"
"What?" the other man said.
Shaking his head, the old man chuckled.
"It means you got to meet someone first before you start sharing pleasantries. So c'mon boy, who is you! Cuz my name's Willy Dee Blurr and you see some wild shit when moving corpses but don't see many naked fellas falling from the sky!"
Willy poured some Bourbon in a small yellowing glass and put it beside him.
"Now you can have this boy but I gots to know who you is"
The man began to lift himself out of the grave, his face covered in dirt and his body full of thick, course sand from the impact.
"To tell you the truth, Willy, I have no earthly idea who I am or where I came from. I was hoping you would know." The man picked up the glass and pressed it against his puffy brown moustache and drank. The liquor was kind to his lips but fought aggressively with his throat, causing him to let out a series of coughs. Willy handed him his canteen of water to calm the instrumental that was his coughing.
"Thanks willy"
"You're welcome, strange- look! I can't call you that! I gots to think of something to call you." The old man said as he stared into space for a few seconds.
"How about Ace?... Yeah! ACE!" He exclaimed with excitement. "That's a great name!"
"Okay, yeah, Ace" The man said "I like it."
"But first I got to stop seeing your dirt-filled pecker!" Said Willy, sternly. "You go in that chapel there and you'll find a box of old clothes. I undress the dead before I puts them in. What use they got for clothes? Some nice stuff, sure you'll find something!"
"Thanks Willy."

The man wiped his moustache and walked towards the chapel. The desert was hot against his bare skin and the sand under his feet felt like little fine needles pricking him with each step. The chapel in front of him was a small, white, broken down building. The white was actually more of a beige from years of sandstorms and god knows what other weather conditions. It had all taken its toll on the chapel but whatever the fine was, this building had taken it twice over. The two windows either side of the big brown doors were cracked and full of dust.
He swung open the doors to the chapel. The inside was not much different. It was lifeless and rundown. Although the sun was in the process of becoming high noon, the chapel was cold and void of love. In front of the man were five rows of rotten wood that made up some benches and just one small podium sat right at the front for a holy man to do sermons. The man didn't care to look around, he just wanted the box of clothes and to not feel the cold, damp chapel air on his face or appendages anymore.
It didn't take long before he found the box, rouge in colour. Ace opened it to find women's pink dresses, shirts of little boys, tiny shoes that of infants, two identical pink dresses, and much more. He shook his head at the words Willy had said to him earlier;
"I undress the dead before I puts them in."
Ace tried not to think of this too much but then he wondered - what did Willy mean when he said "all types of wild shit?"

As he carried on rummaging through past lives, he found a white shirt, a black jacket with fringes, brown trousers and a black hat which carried a silver rim that danced the length of the hat.
"Ahh shit, no boots" he said, lifting all the clothes at once.
He got dressed, minus any footwear and headed back outside to Willy.
"Look at you, a regular gunslinger" he chuckled, "but where is you boots?"
"There wasn't an-" but before Ace could finish his sentence the old man waggled a finger at Ace and was shuffling towards an open, not so deep grave. The man gestured to Ace to follow him and he did. Both men looked into the grave. The body looked like a once proud lawman but now was a grey and hauled thing. His eyes were lifeless and starting to yellow.
"I ain't had no time to undress this fella."
Ace watched in horror as the old man dropped into the grave and forced the boots off the corpse - an effort that seemed to match lifting Excalibur. The shoes came off the body, it's face still blank but Ace thought during the struggle that the body had become a darker grey.
"There you is.' He held the boots in his hands and looked at them proudly. Once he climbed out of the grave he placed the boots in front of Ace.

"You about this size ain't ya."
Ace looked at the boots and nodded.
"Wonderful, I'm gonna finish my whiskey" he said, catching his breath.
Ace placed the boots on and thought that Willy was either crazy or had no respect for the dead. Or both. But either way, Ace was grateful for the kindness.

Willy sat under a dead tree, just about being covered from the sun by a big rotten branch and drank the rest of his whiskey. Ace sat alongside him.
"Hungry?"
"Yeah" said Ace, shielding his eyes from the sun. Willy got up from under the tree with a magnificent symphony of cracking knees and other skeletal parts. Harmonising with each movement, he began to walk behind the chapel and went out of sight.

A few moments later, Willy was pulling along a white horse that was towing a small coach. The horse had also been covered in all sorts of weather, just like the chapel. If washed, it would be an angelic white but for now was a caramelised specimen. Willy, now wearing a worn black cap and brown coat, looked very small against the young buck.
"Nice wagon" Ace said, looking at the splintering mess the coach had come to be.
"I likes ya boy but don't be letting your tongue wiggle without a gun" Willy chuckled.
"What's this young fella called?" Ace asked, as he stroked the horse tentatively.
"This boy here is Ace!"
"You gotta be shitting me?!" Ace said, shaking his head
"Hey! I told you I likes the name! Now stop being a Mary and hop in, I'm hungry!"
Ace did as he was told and climbed up and sat next to Willy, who was holding the reins.
"Where we going anyhow?" said Ace.
"Haven, that little town I told you about. I know a fine little lady in the saloon who will feed our bellies. Won't take long and someone might know ya."

The sun continued to weigh down on the men and the trusty steed but after a while, they arrived at Haven. The town was small. On the left row of buildings stood the Sheriff's office, the bank, the general store and gunsmith. On the right row of buildings stood the saloon, tailors, a carpentering shop that specialises in making coffins and a post office. At the far end of the town stood a small stable. All of the buildings looked as if they were built of cheap wood and looked to Ace like a strong gust of wind could rid this town of existence.
"Here we is. I know it ain't much but it's home," Willy said, smiling proudly.
"That's putting it lightly" Ace said under his breath.