~TROUBLE~
Author:
Tipper
Disclaimer:
not mine.
Notes:
Answer to Jen's challenge – a story inspired by a song (but not a songfic). I used
"Trouble" by Pink. Believe it
or not, it was the line "and my fingers are bejeweled" that did
it--kept thinking about that jade ring and that ruby ring Ezra wears
occasionally.
Description:
Just a short character story. This
should take place several days following the events in One Day Out West. In other words, the boys are still getting to
know each other and the town is still getting to know them....
__________________________________
Conklin:
"We don't want your kind in this town. You bring nothing but
trouble!"
Vin:
"Can't be worse than what you already got."
(from One Day Out West)
____________________________________
Ezra
looked down at his right hand, at the ruby ring, and blew on it, shifting to
polish it against his jacket. The same
hand then ran down the front of his richly embroidered waistcoat, patting the
thick wad of bills in the pocket. A
quirk of a smile at the man facing him, and the hand drifted further down to
his right hip, brushing back the tails of the handsome red coat.
It
came to a rest on the butt of the Remington strapped to his right thigh.
He
smiled more, his gold tooth flashing in the sunlight.
The
other man's eyes narrowed, having watched the whole performance with a sneer.
"Well,
Mr. Morrison," Ezra drawled, "your move."
Ezra and Shepherd Morrison, another fairly recent resident of
Everyone in town knew by now that Ezra was fast with his fists,
his show in the saloon before he'd ridden out to the
A few of the townsfolk stayed inside, either concerned about stray
bullets or simply refusing to watch another killing. The rest, which was most of the town, crowded
the boardwalks, leaning against posts and railings. Some stood on barrels and soapboxes to see
over heads, others crouched down under hitching posts. The whispers grew amongst the swelling crowd
as folks considered possible outcomes--and a good number started making
bets. The primary expression on people's
face, though, was curiosity.
Fact was…folks just weren't sure whose side to be on.
___________________________________________________
Mary wrung her hands, her lips tightly pressed together. She looked around, trying to find Chris
amongst the gathering.
Her eyes lit on Vin Tanner first, leaning against a post about ten
feet from Ezra's back. His face was
expressionless. He also didn't look like
he was going to interfere, as both arms were crossed over his chest. He hadn't even unhooked his Mare's Leg.
She ground her teeth together and looked past him to the front of
the jail.
Buck stood there, one hand gripped firmly around JD's arm. The kid was arguing with his mentor, but Buck
was clearly not listening as JD tried to pry the grip loose.
Well, Mary thought, at least I'm not the only one.
She looked farther, to the church.
Josiah was standing on his roof.
He had a hammer in one hand, held over his head to block the bright sun,
the other was holding onto the steeple, keeping him steady. He was watching, but like Vin and Buck,
didn't appear inclined to do anything.
Her eyebrows rose as she saw Nathan also up there, sliding down
the roof towards the ladder. He looked
to be in a hurry. But was he moving to
stop the fight, or just to deal with the aftermath?
"Well?" Ezra said, cocking his head to the side, drawing
Mary's attention back to the scene on the street.
"You think yer slick, doncha," Morrison swore.
"Compared to you?
Yes."
"Well, it ain't gonna
save ya. I've
killed yer type a dozen times over. Yer gonna die, and I'm gonna drink my
health o'er your dead body."
"Really. My, my,"
Ezra smiled again, "how poetic."
"You betcha. I gots a poet's soul,
my mamma says."
This earned a chuckle from the gambler, and Morrison frowned. "Did you know, Mr. Morrison,"
Ezra's smile widened, "that most great poets die young?"
Morrison's face clouded further, and his hand gripped his gun more
tightly. Ezra kept his loose.
Suddenly, Morrison straightened up, and his hand went away from
his gun. He was looking over Ezra's
shoulder, showing a hint of fear for the first time.
The gambler's expression showed puzzlement for a moment--until he
heard the jangle of spurs walking up behind him. Over in front of the Clarion, Mary sighed in
relief.
Ezra glanced to the side, then back at Morrison as soon as the
black outfit came into view out of the corner of his eye.
"Ezra," Chris drawled.
"Mr. Larabee."
"You need anything?"
"Not at the moment."
Chris gave him a tiny nod. "Okay then. See you later."
Ezra nodded, his eyes still on Morrison. "Mr. Larabee." Chris
stopped at the call, and Ezra's eyes flicked to him. "Remind me to buy you
a drink when I'm done."
The tiniest smile lit Chris's lips.
Mary stiffened, watching in shock as Chris stepped between the two
men, gave Morrison a look, then kept moving.
He strode up onto the boardwalk in front of the saloon, barely noticing
as the people there practically climbed over each other to get out of his way,
and pushed his way through the batwing doors.
In moments, he was gone, almost as if he'd never been there, hidden once
more in the shadows.
Morrison stared after him a moment, then looked back at Ezra. The gambler's eyebrows lifted.
"I'm getting bored, Mr. Morrison."
"Fine," Morrison snapped. "Let's see jest
how good ya are!"
Fast as a rattler, the stranger grabbed for his gun with his
right, his left flying up to push back the hammer.
In far less time, Ezra engaged the derringer and fired.
Morrison gasped, his right hand dropping the gun, grabbing at his
bleeding arm. He turned surprised eyes
to the gambler, who was smiling back.
"You cheated!" Morrison screamed. "That ain't fair! You
cheated!"
"Fair?" Ezra
repeated. "You wanted this to be fair?"
"Hell yes! You
cheated!"
"Mr. Morrison, you already called me a cheat once…."
Ezra pushed the derringer back up his sleeve, walking up to the other man who
was half bent over, still gripping his arm where it was bleeding through his
fingers. "And now look at you."
He reached down and picked up the man's dropped gun with his left hand.
"If I were you, I wouldn't do it again."
"You slimy, low-down, no good drifter, why I oughta--"
Mary jumped as Ezra socked Morrison with a sharp right-handed
punch, sending him flying backwards into the dust. Morrison gasped as he landed hard, his head
smacking on the ground with an audible crack.
The gambler walked forward, stepping into Morrison's line of sight as
the other man struggled to regain his feet, casting the younger man into
shadow. There was nothing but contempt
on the gambler's face now.
"I do not cheat at cards, Mr. Morrison, and, even if I did,
you would not require such effort.
Beating you is easier than outplaying a blind man."
Sheppard Morrison sneered through a bloody nose, but he scuttled
away from the gambler on his rear. Ezra
paced him, stopping when Morrison ran up against a trough.
"I also do not like to gamble with my life unless I have no
choice," Ezra pressed. "You called me out because you were pretty
sure you were faster than me. Maybe you
are, but, frankly, I saw no reason to find out." His eyes narrowed. "You simply aren't
worth my time."
Morrison winced, hissing in obvious pain as he met Ezra's
eyes. "Yer
just yella," he spat.
Ezra smiled coldly at that, squatting down next to him, and
Morrison followed him with his eyes. The gambler let the red coat open enough
for Morrison to see the Colt under his left arm, which, along with the
Remington and the derringer, clearly told the stranger more than he needed
about the man staring him down. Ezra's
frosty smile grew.
"Mr. Morrison," he said sweetly, "if I may make a
suggestion. If you don't want more
trouble, you will leave now."
"Best listen to him, Mister," Vin said, materializing at
Ezra's back, his Mare's Leg resting across his arms.
"This town's got enough trouble," Buck agreed, sidling
up to stand on Morrison's other side with JD behind him. "Don't need you
adding to it." He patted his gunbelt.
"Yeah," JD added unnecessarily. Buck chuckled at that, and the kid shot him a
dark look.
"I think," Josiah rumbled, walking towards them from the
direction of the church, his hammer still in his left hand, stopping when was
about a foot from the top of Morrison's head, "that Mr. Morrison may need
more encouragement in that regard, brothers." Morrison had tipped his head back to see in
that direction, his Adam's apple shifting uneasily as Josiah slapped his hammer
down onto his right palm.
"No, wait!" Morrison looked confused, switching his gaze
from one man to another. "He cheated!
He's the one that's trouble! Not
me!"
"Maybe," Chris said, suddenly appearing at Morrison's
feet, "but he's our kind of trouble."
He looked to his left then, and Morrison looked that way as well. Nathan had his arms crossed, standing
hipshot, his expression one of annoyance as he glared at Morrison.
"Nathan," Chris said, smiling, "patch up Mr.
Morrison here, then see he gets going."
"With pleasure," Nathan spat. Morrison's eyes widened, shifting to look at
the seven men now staring down at him.
Morrison may have been slow, but he wasn't stupid.
"That's okay, Mr. uh…Nathan, I'm fine. I'm jest gonna
go…." Morrison squirmed, pushing himself to his feet and trying to look as
small and as harmless as possible. Ezra
rose with him, but Morrison wasn't looking directly at him anymore as Josiah
slapped the hammer again. "I'm going!
I'm goin'!" Morrison squealed, and he
proceeded to run as fast as possible away from the seven men, aiming for the
livery stable. Laughter floated on the
breeze behind him.
"Mr. Larabee," Ezra glanced
askance at the gunslinger, a pleased smirk on his face. "I believe I
promised you a drink?"
Chris grinned, clapping Ezra on the shoulder. "I think you
owe all of us a drink, Mr. Standish." Renewed laughter from the others
came with that, and seven men headed towards the saloon, all clearly expecting
to get a free drink on Mr. Morrison's lost poker funds.
Mary watched them go, still frowning at the occurrence. Her mind, though, was already piecing
together tomorrow's headline: Headline: Trouble
Comes to Town. Second line, smaller
print: And is summarily ejected by the Seven.
No…words are too big…And is
dealt a losing hand. Better,
highlights Ezra's role….
She turned and walked dreamily back into her office, pulling the
pencil from behind her ear.
And in the background, the rest of the town drifted back to what
they had been doing before, deciding they were very glad these men were ,for
now, on their side.
_________________________________________
The End – hope you liked it!
Drop
me a line if you did!
Inspired by:
Trouble
– by Pink
No
attorneys -- to plead my case
No opiates -- to send me into outer space
And my fingers
Are bejeweled
With diamonds and gold
But that ain't gonna help
me now
I'm trouble
Yeah trouble now
I'm trouble y'all
I disturb my town
I'm trouble
Yeah trouble now
I'm trouble ya'll
I got trouble in my town
You think you're right
But you were wrong
You tried to take me
But I knew all along
You can't take me
For a ride
I'm not a fool now -- So you better run and hide
I'm trouble
Yeah trouble now
I'm trouble ya'll
I disturb my town
I'm trouble
Yeah trouble now
I'm trouble ya'll
I got trouble in my town
If you see me coming
Down the street then
You know it's time to go
(and you know it's time to go
cause here comes trouble)
No attorneys -- to plead my case
No opiates -- to send me into outer space
And my fingers
Are bejeweled
With diamonds and gold
But that ain't gonna help
me now
You think your right
But you were wrong
You tried to take me
But I knew all along
You can't take me
For a ride
Cause I'm not a fool now -- So you better run and hide
I'm trouble
Yeah trouble now
I'm trouble ya'll
I disturb my town
I'm trouble
Yeah trouble now
I'm trouble ya'll
I got trouble in my town
If you see me coming
Down the street then
You know it's time to go
(and you know it's time to go
cause here comes trouble)
Trouble
Yeah trouble now
I'm trouble ya'll
I got trouble in my town
I'm trouble
Yeah trouble now
I'm trouble ya'll
I got trouble in my town
I got trouble in my town
I got trouble in my town