Ironhorse

104

A dark wall of clouds covered the northern sky, and for the moment the town was shrouded in a dusky golden glow as the evening sun dropped below the horizon. Virgil, Berkeley, and I sat on the porch of the jailhouse, drinking whiskey out of tin coffee cups and watching the storm come in. Up high and heading our way was a crooked line of Canada geese moving ahead of the storm. They were working their way south.

“They got a jump on that Northern,” Berkeley said.

“Did,” Virgil said.

We watched for a while as the geese got closer. Nobody said anything else as we watched. After a bit we could hear their honking getting louder as they neared. The flock was large and they were not traveling very high. We watched a little longer and the honking got noisy as they got closer. After a few moments the formation passed over our head and was gone from our sight.

We sat silently, drinking our whiskey. Then Berkeley spoke up.

“Hell of a deal,” he said.

Virgil nodded.

“Was,” Virgil said. “Good of you to throw in like you did.”

Berkeley nodded some and took a drink.

“So you boys will be heading out in the morning?”

“Will,” Virgil said, “after the Southbound Express shuffles off the governor and his family, we will.”

Across the street Doc Meyer walked up the boardwalk. He was wearing his shabby dentist coat and his hair was sticking out in every direction. He turned the corner and just before he entered an establishment called Sleepwalkin’ Cindy’s, he looked up and saw us sitting on the porch. He stepped into the street and was almost run over by a team passing by. The teamster and Doc Meyer exchanged a few harsh words with each other before Doc made his way over to us. He started talking before he was close.

“You have the best pussy in town, I’ll give you that! But I’ve never really valued you for your skills as a constable, Mr. Berkeley, and of course when you are needed, you are not to be found. I was looking for you! You leave this godforsaken hellhole without so much an ounce of authority left to deal with the misbegotten disregards!”

By the time Doc Meyer was close to us he was out of breath and his face was as red as an apple.

“What is it, Doc?” Berkeley said.

Doc Meyer held up a single finger, providing him with some space, before saying his next words, and us listening to his next words. He put a hand on the porch post, took a few good pulls of air, and said, “I was looking for you, and you, too, Mr. Cole, I was looking for you, too!”

“When?” Virgil said.

“Yesterday!”

“I was not here yesterday,” Virgil said.

“That I goddamn know!”

“Why were you looking for me?” Virgil said.

Doc Meyer was still laboring to collect air as he talked.

“You got company, Mr. Cole.”

“Company?”

“Bad company.”

“Who?” Virgil said.

“I don’t know.”

“What are you getting at,” I said.

“I was lucky I was not murdered!”

“Murdered?” Berkeley said.

“Goddamn right,” Doc Meyer said. “By the animal that came to see me.”

“What animal?” Berkeley said. “Who?”

“Goddamn it, I don’t know his name!”

“What he come to see you about?” Virgil said.

“Wanted medical supplies.”

I looked at Virgil. “What kind of medical supplies?” I asked.

“He’d been shot, twice,” Doc Meyer said.

“Where is he?” Virgil said.

“Now? I do not know, I have no idea,” Doc Meyer said. “Before, he was in my goddamn office.”

“When was this?” Virgil said.

“Yesterday, an hour past dark,” Doc Meyer said. “I was about to leave my office and there he was, standing in the door. Scared the hell out of me. An unpleasant reptile of a man. He took the bullets out of himself, he said. With a knife. His wounds were infected, and he wanted me to clean and dress them. Goddamn disgusting.”

“He told you he was looking for me?”

“He did. I was just trying to keep the reprobate distracted, keep his heinous thoughts from drifting into the territory of having the passing notion to gut me or what have you. So I filled the unpleasant passage of time with vague niceties. I was rambling about the price of grain, or mung beans or some shit when he asked me if I knew where to find Virgil Cole.”

“What did you say?” I said.

“I simply told him I had no earthly idea where you were but that if you were still in town you would not be too hard to find because you stuck out like a sore thumb,” Doc Meyer said. “I ascertained he had some particular deep-seated disdain for you Mr. Cole, and that was my feeble attempt to create some kind of kinship with him — however awkward, mind you — some simpatico if you will.”

“What did he say?” I asked.

“Nothing,” Doc Meyer said. “He just growled.”

The Northern was slowly closing in on Half Moon Junction, and darkness was most definitely looming.