Setting Sun

First-hand History Lesson

The sun was blazingly hot after an hour of trotting alongside the railway. Leslie was soon hopelessly lost in more ways than one. Nothing looked familiar, the wilderness seemed to stretch on for as far as the eye could see and there wasn't even any billboards around that would suggest an incoming highway they could take to get to the city, find a way home for them from there.

She would write this whole thing off as a dream were it not for the sweat sticking their shirt to the back of her neck and her legs going stiff from posting for minutes on end. Luxury's neck was also damp with sweat, going from a lovely dark grey colour to almost black.

After what seemed like forever, the two finally came across civilization. The railroad led them to an old west-style town set almost in the middle of nowhere, the sign leading in reading "Bakerridge". Leslie turned Luxury away from the railway and made her way past the sign, noting with dread the fresh-looking bullet hole in it.

The town was bustling with activity; horses, people, dogs and cows crowding each other to get where they're going. Leslie and Luxury stuck out like shiny black sore thumbs as they followed an old man and his dusty palomino horse down the middle of the road, Leslie letting her horse choose the path as she looked around.

The town didn't look that old. The wood on many buildings was hardly weathered and one sign had clearly been freshly painted, the liquid shining slightly in the sun. The hitching posts were sturdy and strong in their newly-dug holes and the water troughs had yet to be contaminated with any dirty blown by the wind in a storm. Leslie took all of this as proof that this was a movie set they had accidentally barged into somehow.

Thank god. She just needed to get the attention of a crewmember and they'd be on their way.

Leslie pressed their left heel against Luxury, moving her out of the road towards a duo of women. They looked her up and down in clear disapproval.

"Hi." Leslie moved both reins to one hand and pushed their helmet back, wiping sweat off their brow. "I'm a bit lost. Could you tell me where the director is? Or someone who can help me?"

"It's a girl!" The second lady gasped, gripping the red sleeve of her companion. "Why, she almost looks Briar's age!"

"Why are you wearing trousers, young lady?" The first lady sniffed. "It's improper."

"Okay, ha ha, I get it, you have to stay in character in case cameras are rolling." Leslie grit their teeth in their smile. "But seriously, please. I have no idea where I am."

"You'd best talk to the sheriff, then. He'll help you more than I could. Though I do wish to know where you got such awful clothing."

The red lady gave her one more disapproving look before sharing a mean smile with her companion. Leslie glared daggers at them as they walked away, bursting into gales of laughter once they thought they were out of earshot.

"What a pair of bitches, eh girl?" She patted Luxury's sweaty neck before moving her back into the street. "Okay, where is the sheriff's office..."

"Nice legs, woman!"

Leslie whipped her head towards the voice, her skin crawling at the look a man several years their age was giving her.

"I'm fourteen fucking years old!"

His eyes lit up. Leslie felt their heart beating faster as he jumped off the store deck and jogged over to Luxury.

"You're fourteen, you say?"

Leslie nodded, wishing she had just kept her mouth shut.

"I'm eighteen!"

"That's great, pal."