Dead Remnants

Chapter 6 (Part One) : MACAJAH: AGNES

Macajah Sloan
Born: June 22, 1821
Died: August 10, 1879

May 21, 1879

Macajah glowered at his reflection, eyes peering from beneath the wide brim of a Stetson. "I look ridiculous, like I belong in that darned P.T. Barnum's Traveling Menagerie."

Behind him, Abigail appeared, her once ebony ringlets now peppered with a distinguished silver and stacked neatly on the crown of her head. A mischievous grin danced on her lips. "Now, Mr. Sloan, that ain't got a grain of truth to it, and you know it! That color looks mighty fine."

His mustache drooped. "Ridiculous."

"Hush now, Cage. Eres muy guapo. And the shopkeep assured me this is what every proper frontiersman is wearing. I even hear it's William Cody's preferred style."

"I don't care a continental about Buffalo Bill, but I reckon he's a derned idjiot if he paid thirty greenbacks for this here hat," Macajah said, jerking the Stetson from his head. "Abbie, why can't we purchase that woolsey yonder and be done with it?"

Abigail looped one lithe arm around his and motioned with the other to the shopkeep. "Because you, my dear husband, old and ornery though you may be, pledged to protect your fellow men for many, many years. And a job well done is deserving of a right decent John B—not some shoddy five-dollar woolsey. Now, we're getting the beaver felt Stetson, and you're not permitted to dispute."

"Mr. Shoenburg, she keeps lamenting that I'm the ornery one," Macajah said to the approaching man, "but I reckon it's the other way around."

The young, round tradesman laughed. "Oh, she only wants the very best for you, Mr. Sloan. And please! Call me Cheap Joe!"

Macajah grimaced. "That don't sound too appealing a title."

"On the contrary!" Joe said, his arms flying up, causing Macajah and Abigail to lean away from the shop counter to avoid being struck by his wild gestures. "You see, after relocating here from back east, I became downright determined to establish the finest shop in Leadville and this desire required a suitable name—one that the good folks would hear and know, right away, that they should choose me to be their favored supplies and goods merchant."

The shopkeep took a deep breath and continued. "However, I concluded rather quicklike that these fellas around here can't recollect much beyond yesterday, thanks to the new saloons being erected at a good clip, so I became determined I needed a moniker that was easy to recall and started referring to myself as Cheap Joe. For remembrance and the like."

"Well, Cheap Joe, you've proven to be a fair and square dealer," Macajah said. "Even though I reckon you're a tad verbose. Suppose I could put a good word out that you treated us right, but we're still green to these parts ourselves."

At this, Joe seized hold of Macajah's free hand and shook it vigorously, forcing Macajah to widen his stance in order to maintain his footing. "Much appreciated, Mr. Sloan! Much appreciated! Having a lawman-"

"Retired lawman."

"My apologies, Mr. Sloan," Joe stammered. "Please excuse my excitement, however, even having a retired lawman endorse my shop is as good as any advert in the city directory!"

"True enough, I reckon."

"Yes! Yes, quite!" Elated, Joe beamed at the couple, his hands fixed on his hips, until he seemed to recall why they were there in the first place. "Oh, my! Let's get back to it, shall we? Have you and Mrs. Sloan settled on a purchase?"

"We'll take this one," Abigail said, attempting to hide her amusement. "Along with that golden-brown hatband there."

"Ah! 'The Boss of the Plains!' Excellent choice!"