Joe's Enlightenment

Dust. Mud or dust. The only two things in this damned country. That and cows. God I wish I had never agreed with Carol to move out here for the baby. The house on the hill, and the countryside is a good thing, it's much better than the cramped quarters we had in the city back east. But, damnit I miss the life, the energy, the excitement. It's boring here. Yesterday I got up and walked the dusty street to the bank to work. Today I get up, walk the dusty street to the bank. And tomorrow I'll get up and walk the dusty street to the bank to work. It's enough to kill a man's soul. There's nothing going on.

Lost in these thoughts, I almost walked into the town's sheriff.

“Morning John, something bothering you today?”

“Huh? Oh g'day sheriff.”

“You almost walked into me John, that's not like you. Something wrong?”

“Not really, just missing my old life; the action, the nightlife, the city.”

“I see, trouble adjusting to the lifestyle.”

I looked up at the sheriff's sharp assessment, thinking about what he had said. I found myself unconsciously nodding my head in agreement.

“Well John, I know it's not what you're used to, but we're glad you're here anyhow.” With that I watched the Sheriff turned and crossed the dusty sleepy street to the jailhouse where his office was.

I continued my silent mental tirade as I continued to the bank, where I would sit handle other peoples money and problems all day long.

* * *

Earl's in already, at least I'll have somebody to talk to this morning.
I walked through the main lobby, dropping my hat carelessly onto a chari before checking over the safe and the teller windows. A voice sounded from the back room,

“That you John?”

'Yeah, how're you doin' Earl?”

“Not bad, Jinny filled me up good this morning, bacon and the works. Lord but that woman can cook.”

As I stepped through to the back office where the main safe was kept, I saw Earl tallying up the previous days railway deposit from train before we shipped it out this afternoon on the separate coaches for ranches and smaller towns that didn't have a rail line through them.

“Earl, looks like you're having a good time, did you want me to get you a coffee?”

“Sure thing, I'm just about done here, then I'll lock it back in the safe and we can get on with the day.”

I winced as I considered just what that meant.  I moved to fill two coffee cups from the pot on the woodstove, another day in the bank watching the dust settle

As I reached out for coffee pot on the stove there was a sound in the front room, a couple of rowdy boys.

Odd, people around here don't usually sound like that this early in the day, I thought as I turned away from the stove to see what was happening. As I turned, I saw Earl disappear through the door to the front room.

“No funny stuff, open the safe and we don't shoot you old man!” My head jolted up and my senses became acutely alert as the harsh words came through the open door. I could hear Earl's sigh and a slight whimpering sound that I could only guess came from the elderly bank manager.

Trying to be as silent as possible, I shifted my weight, leaning so that I could see something through the door. The dry dusty air tickled my nose and I had to fight down a sudden urge to sneeze.

I could hear Earl fumbling with the combination lock on the smaller front room safe, and hoping that Earl had the two men's undivided attention I risked shifting my feet ever so slightly. Ah.. there. I could see both of them, standing at the open business desk beside the teller windows. With the office at the side of the building, I was behind and to the right of both the bandits. I could just see Earl's head above the desktop as he bent to try the safe again.

The two bandits were armed, the taller one with a shotgun, and the shorter one that appeared to be in charge was holding a revolver.

Suddenly the old farmiliar adrenaline kicked in, it was like I was back on the street in good old New York city. Could I get them disabled before one of them got off a shot? The safest course of action would be to sneak out the back and round up the sherrif, but as my wife always told me, I was never one for the smartest or safest option.

Again, could I do this without endangering Earl? I didn't have a gun on me, the only one we had in the bank was secured under the counter at the far side of the building.. what could I use?

There! That will work... I snatched up the slight iron signpost that I was supposed to be rehanging later on today, it was about five feet in lenght, and about fifteen pounds all told.

Now, how best to do this? The shotgun is far more dangerous in these confines.. I'll have to take him down first..

Matching thought to sequence, I rapidly took the two steps from the door to the counter, swinging the iron bar in a short arc, straight into the shotgun holder's forearm, hearing the bone spinter with a wet squishy sound, and once the first bandit's arm had absorbed all the momentum of the inital swing, I reversed the iron bar's trajectory and brought it around in a three-quarter circle, connecting with the short ribs of the second gunman while he was still registering my appearance from the back office.

In just under five seconds, both men were injured, I had clamped my hand over the revolver and snatched it out of the second bandit's hand as I connected the iron bar with his ribs, while the first bandit was howling in pain at his newly broken forearn, the shotgun dropped and all but forgotten.

Earl, quick to capitalize on the change in fortunes, took the chance to snatch the shotgun from where it had landed on the floor, reversing it to cover both the bandits as he hollered out the front door of the bank for somebody to fetch the sheriff.

* * *

“That was quick work there John,” the sherrif commented shrewdly, “almost looked like you had done this sort of thing before.”

“Yes and no sheriff, I used to be on the police force back in New York, but not anything like this. Mainly we did patrols and occasionally had to deal with some small gang fights.”

“Would you ever consider taking up the old trade?”

Earl butted his way in at this point, ignoring my existence entirely. “ Sheriff, I want him here, where he can do the most good.”

“I know that's how you feel Earl, but I have to ask him directly, not you.”

Earl turned to me at this point, “I know you think it's boring out here, and that there is little or no excitement in our lives, but this kind of thing happens at least every couple of months, that's why I was so happy to have you here in the first place, and besides, you can always help out the sherrif on the slow days around here.”

I found myself grinning as the adrenaline let-down left me relaxed and restless. Normally I would be twitchy, but for some reason, I think I understand why a middle aged ex-cop looking to have children and settle down, could do worse than to work in a small western frontier bank.

Looking back and forth from Earl to the Sherrif, I came to a realization that peace and quiet wasn't such a bad thing, as long as there was some excitement to be had occasionally.

“Don't worry Earl, I'm not going anywhere.” As I said this, I shifted my weight in the chair and took another drink of the harsh black coffee that was such a part of the atmosphere around here as the mud and the smell of dusty cattle.

I don't think I'll let her know it just yet, but I guess Carol knew me, and knew what we needed better than I did in choosing this godforsaken country. I guess I really don't regret agreeing with here to move out here for the baby.

* * * * * * * *

Author's comments - I know this is almost a week late, so sue me, I've got kids and all kinds of other crap to deal with.  But the truth is that I had to fight like heck to take this out of third person and put it into first person.  That's what took so much time, how to get the sense to gel in first person.  Secondly, I just didn't have the time to do this kind of stuff.  The main idea of the story was to show a man faced with a compromise in life for his family, coming to accept and even appreciate the compromise, rather than resenting it.  A nebulous thought to base a story on, but you should see the plot structures of the novel's I'm planning, such things as the emptyness of space and how it fills up a man, giving him a reason for acceptance.  That kind of stuff.

Andre.