Recent writing
I've mentioned writing. My publisher makes scenes with toy figures for which I compose narratives. This is a gun fight scene for the next book. SW
With spurs clinking, two dusty banditos strode into Marfa's Caballo Rojo (red horse) cantina. Both hard men wore drooping, oversized sombreros made limp from being worn in numerous rain showers. Larger of the pair approached Marfa to press a hefty leather bag into her hands. It contained a quantity of gold coins recently acquired in a bank "withdrawal" somewhere in northern Mexico.
"For you, Tia!" the hard man told her. "Perhaps you can save a bit for later years."
"Bless you, nephew! Would you like a bit of lunch? Today I have frijoles refritos con queso y chorizo." (refried beans with cheese and sausage)
"Si!"
"Also a small bit for me, Marfa?" the other bandito asked.
"Of course, Slow Poke! Any friend of my nephew is also my close friend!"
The pair were "Speedy" Gonzales - so called because of his uncommonly fast draw. Of his attire, only the holster was in top shape from the necessity of frequent gun fights. His amigo was known as "Slow Poke" Rodriguez... slow because he was only a few micro-seconds slower on the draw than Speedy, but had still never been bested in a gun fight.
"Where are the usual gringo loafers today, Tia?" Speedy asked.
"They're off helping drive a small herd to the rail head for shipment to Chicago. Also mi amore, Angus."
Speedy scowled. While Marfa was sweet on the odd man, he had nothing but contempt for the fellow. But his beloved aunt thought well of him, so he remained silent on the matter.
At that moment, a white bounty hunter stepped through the door, looking around warily.
"You Speedy Gonzales?" he asked in a low growl.
"Who wants to know?" came the sinister reply.
"Somebody who knows there's a price on your greasy head... beaner!"
Speedy's hand was already holding his Colt Open Top 44 caliber revolver which, by custom, was laying on his lap under the table like it always was when he was seated.
"Let me deal with this smart-ass gringo, Speedy," Slow Poke said. "You can talk with your aunt while I take care of business."
Slow Poke slowly stood, his Schofield 44 caliber break top revolver loosely resting in its holster.
"There's a price on my head, too, gringo. But let's settle this in the street so this lady's establishment won't be stained with your blood."
Nodding agreement, the bounty hunter backed slowly through the door, hand already on his revolver. Even with Slow poke not touching his gun, that would quickly prove to be no advantage.
"Make your move, Gringo!" Slow Poke growled with his upper lip curled in a cruel sneer like he always did in fights, be they gun, knife or fist.
Inside, Marfa and Speedy barely paid attention to the "POW... pow, pow!" Speedy handed his aunt a gold double eagle.
"To pay the undertaker, Tia. You already know what to say if somebody comes looking for the gringo."
Indeed, she did, for this was not an uncommon event in this wild part of the country where life was cheap. 'The man was in a fight with another gringo, Marshall - I think it was over a woman... maybe a gambling debt. In any case the other man rode away, and I haven't seen him since,' she would tell the lawman.
Returning from the stove, she served both a heaping portion of refried beans, laboriously worked into a smooth puree which was covered in shredded goat cheese and spicy chorizo sausage. Beside the plates, she set each man a bowl of her famous salsa caliente. Fond of the condiment, Slow Poke began his meal by lifting the bowl to take a hearty gulp of the fiery concoction.
"Ahhh!" he sighed in pleasure. "Muy Bueno, Marfa!"
She grinned widely at being so appreciated... if only Angus would act the same way, she thought.
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