The Ghost of Apache Creek

Chapter 41

“The deacon is drinking from the well,” Sam Pace said.

“Will it kill him?” Jess said.

Pace kept his eye to the railing, staring through a chink between a pair of warped boards.

“I don’t know.” He turned and smiled at Jess. “You sound hopeful.”

“I am,” the woman said. “Hell, how long does the cholera poison a well? Months? Years?”

“I don’t know that either. But Harcourt’s boys stirred the water up when they gave me a bath. If there’s still cholera in the well, I’d say they wakened it up for sure.”

“How does it kill a man?” Lake said.

“If he’s took sick in the morning, most times he’ll be dead by sundown.”

“If the deacon did drink poisoned water, how long before he gets sick?” Jess said.

“It’s mighty sudden. Three, maybe four hours.”

“Then what happens, Sammy?”

“Everything that’s inside you comes out both ends,” Pace said, “and it keeps on a-coming. Your legs cramp up and you can’t walk and you get a raging fever. If you have the strength, you’ll scream for a while, but pretty soon you die.” He smiled. “One of the good Lord’s tender mercies.”

“I wouldn’t wish a death like that on anyone,” Lake said. He looked at Pace. “My God, Sam, you saw a whole town die like that, including your own wife and wee babby? How could you stand it?”

Pace said nothing, his eyes unfocused, looking back into a different place and time.

“No wonder you’re tetched in the head, boy,” Lake said finally, a sense of wonder in his voice.

“Sammy,” Jess said, “your wife. Was she pretty?”

It was a female question and Pace accepted it with a tolerant smile.

“Yes, very pretty. She had . . . she had this yellow hair and the sun would get all tangled in it and turn it gold. And she had gray eyes, like a summer mist, only sometimes they looked blue.” His head turned to the side as he remembered. “In the dark, or by lamplight, that’s when they were blue. Dark, kinda like the night sky.”

“You loved her very much, didn’t you, Sammy?” Jess said.

“Yeah. I did. I loved her very much. I still do.”

“I didn’t want to drive you crazy again, Sammy,” Jess said.

“You didn’t. The death of his wife leaves a heartache in a man that no one can heal.” Pace smiled. “But the way he loved her, well, that’s a memory no one can ever steal from him.”

“Will you ever be able to love another woman?” Jess said.

Pace grinned, his teeth white under his mustache. “Are you volunteering, Jess?”

“Men don’t fall in love with whores, Sammy,” Jess said.

“You’re not a whore now,” Pace said.

Lake coughed. “What’s the deacon doing now, Sam?” he said.

Pace left the place where he’d been and returned to the present. “Still drinking. He must have a powerful thirst.”

“Hell, so do I,” Lake said. “But not for that well water.”

“You can drink from the canteen soon, Mash. I don’t want you filling up with water, then pissing all over the place like you said you would.”

The bell tower was open to the sun, and the small platform built up heat. Pace and the others were soaked with sweat, and even the slightest movement became an intolerable chore.

Jess moved slightly, and the back of her neck brushed the iron bell. She yelped and jerked away.

“The bell’s red-hot,” she said.

“Did the deacon hear that yip, Sam?” Lake asked, alarmed. “Is he looking this way?”

“I don’t think so,” Pace said. “He doesn’t seem to be interested in the tower.”

He turned to Jess. “Don’t do that again.”

“Do you think I did it on purpose, Sammy?”

“No, I don’t. But don’t do it again just the same.”

“Now what’s he doin’?” Lake said.

“Nothing. Just standing there.”

“He’s got to be doin’ something.”

“Nope, he’s just standing there.”

Pace’s shoulders stiffened. “Wait. He’s buckling on his guns. Now he’s putting on his hat. Now his frock coat. He’s tying a wet bandanna around his neck.”

“Hell,” Jess said, “this is exciting stuff.”

“Now what?” Lake said.

Pace rubbed his eyes. “I reckon the only place he’s got left to search in Requiem is the church. He’ll probably head straight for here.”

“And that’s right where we’re at,” Lake said.

“I’m glad you told us, Mash,” Jess said. “We wouldn’t have known.”

The oldster smiled. “Young lady, someday I’ll put you over my knee and tan the seat of your britches with a willow switch.”

“Bring an army with you, Mash Lake. You’ll need it.”

“Hey, quit bickering, you two,” Pace said. “Something’s happening.”

“What’s he doin’, Sam? Coming our way?” Lake said.

“No. He’s staring at something.”

“Where?”

“To the east of town.”

“What’s he see?” Lake said.

“Hell, I don’t know what he sees.”

But then Pace did know.

And with that knowledge death brushed past him like a cold breeze.