Dishes and Dirt

1

 On the vast planes of the great West was a little town called Cody. In this town not too much happened other than a good fight every so often. When the days were moving slowly and only a fly could be heard, a traveling man made his way through the town. This was supposed to be a short stop. This traveler's name was Wyatt.

He tied his horse up to the posts provided and walked into the nearest place to get a drink, the First Try. As he walked into the saloon the ruckus and chatter that had filled the room prior to his entrance stopped. Glares followed him every which way as he walked around the tables through to the back bar.

"I'll have a whisky," Wyatt said, aware that that was the only thing that had disturbed the silence other than his footsteps.

"Anything in particular?" the bartender asked.

"Whatever you have." After this was said Wyatt turned around and looked at the townsfolk, "So, have you all heard the one about the man and his horse?"

Silence.

"Well this man was just starting out with ridin', you know city folk and all, and he got to go and get up on his horse and put up the wrong leg. Then he was turned backwards on his saddle and his horse just took off. The only thing he ever did was yell, 'I'm bass-ackwards, I'm bass-ackwards!'."

This time he was met with bouts of laughter. The bartender called him up for his drink and Wyatt made himself comfortable on one of the stools in front of the bar. He glanced around when a tall, dark, handsome man caught his eye. He looked young but aged by what Wyatt guessed to be the sun and maybe stress. Basked in shadow in the back of the bar he was the only one not laughing. He looked to be one of the rather serious sort. Lord knows he wouldn't give the time of day to anyone a little rambunctious. Wyatt looked a little closer and saw a small shining star on the man's lapel, the sheriff. He was kind of captivating, in a way.

After a while of joking around in the bar and getting along with the locals, Wyatt thought it was time to retire. He asked around to see if anyone knew a place to stay and landed on a nice little place on the edge of town. As he got checked in and walked to find his room he ran into the sheriff.

"Howdy," Wyatt said, opening the door to his room, "I don't suppose you stay in these parts, do ya?"

"I do," he replied, "you're one of them rowdy ones aren't ya? You like to come into town and disturb the peace." As the words left his lips you could hear a bite in his voice.

"Well, what's your name?"

"John."

"Well, John, I think you'll find I like to have fun every so often, but I'll try to keep the 'rowdiness' to a minimum."

As Wyatt walked into his room he saw that John was unlocking the door right next to his. Boy, he was going to have a ball.

Contrary to what you might think, when in solitude Wyatt was a quiet man. He found comfort in getting dressed down and looking at the stars. He knew about a lot, but never much about the stars. One of the only mysteries that couldn't be explained to him. After that, he promptly went to bed.

John was left in a cold bed and a lonely room. He thought about this man and the possible antics he might get up to in the time he was staying, John hoped it would be a short stay. He was left in the night alone with his bed and his thoughts.

The next day the hotel owner, Mrs. Danbury, had breakfast ready for the two of the residents in the hotel. John made his way into the dining room and treated himself to some eggs and bacon.

"Thank you, Mrs. Danbury," he paused, sipping his coffee, "Great as always."

"Do you know where that othern's got up to? He wasn't in his room." Mrs. Danbury said.

"He probably skipped town without picking up the bill," John replied, sourly.

"Well I don't want to let all of this food go to waste, I've made enough for the both of youn's." She frantically gestured around the kitchen. John sat back and enjoyed his coffee and breakfast.

Right as he was getting comfy he was interrupted by Wyatt coming through the door.

"Well, there you are! John here thought you skipped town. We've got breakfast for you right over here." Mrs. Danbury said cheerfully. She gave him a gracious helping of eggs and bacon. At this point, John noticed that Wyatt looked surprised.

"Thank you, ma'am," Wyatt said, "I'm real hungry and this is just what I needed."

"Now where have you been?"

"Just out and about. I thought I'd get a nice look around the town and things but, right when I was getting back I saw, do you all know Mr. Johnson?" They nodded, "Well his plow broke and I was helping him fix it."

"Well ain't that just dandy, isn't it, John?" Mrs. Danbury said, you could almost hear the smile in her voice.

"Yeah," John replied. This statement of a good deed did not convince John that the town's maverick was pure of heart. He had a suspicion that there was something Wyatt was getting from all of this. He hoped that in the future there would be fewer outrageous actions to come from Wyatt.

They sat in silence while they ate their breakfast. It was a given, the way everyone was quiet. At this point, Mrs. Danbury had left and John and Wyatt were alone. There was nothing to be said, John didn't like Wyatt and Wyatt wasn't gonna be the one to irritate him.

Wyatt had gone out to the ring that had set up near one of the old settlements they had there. He started practicing on some of his rodeoing moves, and soon enough he gathered a crowd. Kids from all around the town were doing up just to watch him. He was kickin' and ridin' to make a show that was something more impressive than anything the town had seen in years, which was saying a lot.

"Hey," One of the kids yelled, "Can you teach me how to ride like that?"

Wyatt slowed down his horse to a sauntering trot. He came up to the fence and saw a little girl standing on the fence. She had wild, blond hair and a scrunched face that made her look like she just drank lemon juice. She couldn't have been more than five.

"I dunno little lady, maybe if I get the time to," Wyatt replied.

"My ma won't let me learn how to ride, she says that I'm not big enough."

"Well, that's not any reason to not learn how to ride. We might just have to learn you how!" Wyatt said. At this, the little girl giggled.

"Now what are you up to little miss?" A voice yelled out from behind the girl. Wyatt looked up, it was John. This was the first time he'd seen John without his mask. He seemed happy. Wyatt gathered that John was the little girl's father.

"Wyatt's gonna teach me how to ride a horse!" She yelled out. John looked up at him for a split second and glared slightly. He slipped back into his kid voice after a moment. "Oh really now! Isn't that something?" He picked her up and smiled.

"Well, I'm sure your pap here could teach ya how to ride a horse, couldn't he?" Wyatt said.

"Sheriff John's not my dad." The little girl said.

"He's not! Well then, where is your father?"

"He died a couple of years back before I was born." The little girl said honestly.

"Ok now, Sally, run on over to your mother." John and Wyatt watched as Sally ran over to one of the mothers sitting up on one of the porches.

"You take care of her?" Wyatt asked.

"Sometimes, there isn't anyone else to do it," John replied, begrudgingly. He leaned in and said, "If you try any of those tricks and end up getting someone hurt, you're dead." He went back up to the jail to do, well, whatever he had to do.

That night someone had stolen the bucking bronco that Wyatt had claimed as his own. This stumped his plans to leave in the next few days. He knew someone had it out for him.