Robert Parker - Blue-Eyed Devil

“You think he can do it?” I said.

“Kill me?” Virgil said.

“Yeah.”

“No,” Virgil said. “I don’t.”

“You never do,” I said.

“Correct,” Virgil said.

“And you been right, so far,” I said.

LAUREL, holding her skirt up, came along Main Street at a dead run. When she reached us, she whispered to Virgil. Virgil nodded.

“Pony came to the house,” Virgil said to me. “Wants us to meet him west of town at Red Castle Rock.”

“I know where that is,” I said.

Laurel whispered again to Virgil.

“We won’t see him, but if we sit our horses by the rock, he’ll find us,” Virgil said to me.

“Now?” I said.

Virgil looked at Laurel. She nodded hard.

“Now,” Virgil said.

He patted Laurel on the shoulder, and we set out for the livery to get our horses.

We followed the stage road west.

As we rode I said to Virgil, “I noticed something ’bout Laurel today when she come running up to tell us ’bout Pony.”

“With her tits bouncing?” Virgil said.

“You noticed it, too,” I said.

“Yep.”

“She ain’t a little girl,” I said.

“Nope.”

“What are we gonna do ’bout that?” I said.

“Don’t know,” Virgil said.

The road began to rise gently ahead of us. The horses adjusted to it.

“She know the facts?” I said.

“Hope so,” Virgil said.

He grinned.

“Allie sure ’nuff is qualified to tell her ’bout them,” he said.

“Virgil,” I said. “Laurel don’t talk to anybody, ’cept whispering to you.”

“I know.”

“You can’t go round the rest of her life translatin’ for her,” I said.

“Probably could,” Virgil said. “But don’t seem like I ought to.”

“So, what do we do?” I said.

“Don’t know,” Virgil said.

“What’s Allie say?”

“Allie don’t like me talkin’ ’bout Laurel to her,” Virgil said.

“She don’t?”

“Nope. Says I spend too much time thinkin’ ’bout Laurel.”

“Jesus Christ, Virgil,” I said. “She’s jealous of Laurel?”

“’Pears so,” Virgil said.

“Well, we got to do something about Laurel,” I said.

“We do,” Virgil said.

“What?” I said.

“Was hoping you’d come up with something,” Virgil said.

Ahead of us, with late sun shining from behind it, was the high remnant of ancient red rock that looked a little like the tower of a castle.

We stopped close to its base and sat our horses in its shadow, and pretty soon Pony Flores rode around the base and stopped beside us.

HOW IS CHIQUITA?” Pony said. “She’s fine,” Virgil said.

“She talk yet?” Pony said.

“Just to me,” Virgil said.

Pony nodded.

“Kah-to-nay has gone to fight Blue-Eyed Devil,” he said.

Virgil nodded.

“Never could abide us,” Virgil said.

Pony shook his head.

“Kha-to-nay think you betray him,” Pony said.

“You know we didn’t,” I said.

“I know,” Pony said. “Kah-to-nay not know.”

“Kha-to-nay fighting white men by himself?” Virgil said.

“No, go back to reservation, get others. Maybe fifteen, they leave reservation, keep moving.”

“Raiding?” Virgil said.

“Sí.”

“Live off what they take in a raid?”

“Sí.”

“So they got to keep raiding.”

Pony nodded.

“Where?” Virgil said.

“Come this way,” Pony said. “Appaloosa.”

“He’d attack the town?” I said.

“Maybe not,” Pony said. “Maybe small ranch, maybe homesteader. Maybe posse come out after them; maybe they attack town.”

“While the posse’s out roaming the plains,” I said.

“Sí.”

“He ask you to join him?” I said.

“Sí.”

“And you didn’t,” I said.

Pony shook his head.

“How’d he take that?” I said.

“He say I am traitor to Chiricahua people,” Pony said. “I say I go with him, I am traitor to myself.”

“So, how you want to handle this,” Virgil said.

“I cannot kill my brother,” Pony said.

Virgil nodded.

“He kill you?” Virgil said.

“No,” Pony said.

“So, we stop him and don’t kill him,” Virgil said.

“Cannot go to jail,” Pony said.

“Stop him, don’t kill him, turn him loose,” Virgil said.

“Won’t he go right back to it?” I said.

“Maybe will,” Pony said.

“What do we do ’bout that?” I said.

“Be Pony’s call,” Virgil said.

“How bad is the raiding?” I said.

“Burn, torture,” Pony said. “Scare white men.”

“Don’t abide no torture,” Virgil said.

The sun had set. But the western sky was still light, and it was still darker in the shadow of the rock than it was on the prairie. We sat silently in our saddles. The horses were cropping the meager grass near the rock.

“You with them for any raids?” Virgil said.

“With them, not raid,” Pony said.

“Army after them?” Virgil said.

“Yes, but not close,” Pony said.

The horses moved slowly, looking for grass. We let them move. The sky to the west continued to darken very slowly.

After a time Virgil said, “How soon you figure they’ll get here?”

“I left them two days ago,” Pony said.

Again we were quiet. The only sound was the movement of the horses as they grazed.

“We can’t let them do it,” Virgil said.

“What about Kah-to-nay?” I said.

“We do what we can for him,” Virgil said. “But we need to stop him.”

Neither Pony nor I said anything.

“You okay with that, Pony?” Virgil said.

“Sí.”

“You gonna be involved?” Virgil said.

“Spring in hollow near rock,” Pony said. “I stay here. See them come, I ride in, tell you.”

“You gonna be with us when the balloon goes up?” Virgil said.

“Be with you,” Pony said. “Not kill Chiricahua.”

“So, what will you do?” I said.

“Maybe keep Chiricahua from kill you,” Pony said.

YOU HELP these two renegades escape,” Callico said. “And now you come asking me to round them up for you?”

“Giving you information,” Virgil said.

“Which I take to be bullshit,” Callico said. “Who are we fighting here? Alexander the Great?”

“They’ll lure the fighters out of town,” I said. “And come in behind you, and tear the place up.”

“Sure thing,” Callico said. “So we stay in here and let them loose on the farms and ranches. Won’t that look good.”

“Bring the small outfits in,” Virgil said. “Big ones, like Laird, can take care of themselves.”

“Well, isn’t that dandy,” Callico said. “I hide here in town with the homesteaders, and let the important land-owners fight their own battles.”

“For crissake, Callico,” I said. “This ain’t about the next election.”

“You hadn’t gone up to Resolution and warned ’em,” Callico said, “wouldn’t be having this problem.”

Virgil stood.

“Nice talking with you, Amos,” he said.

He turned and left, and I went with him.

As we walked up Main Street, Virgil said, “Horse’s ass.”

“Thinks it’s his chance to be a hero of the Indian wars,” I said.

“Like Custer,” Virgil said.

“Just like that,” I said.

“Couple ways this could go,” Virgil said.

I nodded.

“They can lure Callico out of town and come in and chew up what he’s left behind.”

“Or,” Virgil said, “they can lure him out and cut him to ribbons like they did to Custer up in Montana.”