| Forgone Occlusion |
[Feb. 3rd, 2007|11:56 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  determined | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Gone - Switchfoot | ] |
Well, here it is in all it's glory: the final draft of the final story of my creative writing class. It could surely be improved a bit more, but I'm not too concerned with fixing it, really. I may come back to it later, and I might not. I hope you enjoy it.
“Forgone Occlusion”
Sunlight filtering through the tavern windows flickered momentarily as a human form passed by on the outside. A moment later, the door groaned at the pressure of another gritty hand. As it swung to, the ever-present dust on the floor was roused from its easy stupor and swirled about the wooden planks in twisted shafts, furious. One shaft hurled itself at a reclining figure half-hidden in the corner and fell, smitten by outstretched feet. The newcomer lost no time in following the dust, and momentarily stood tall before the slumped man, again blocking his light.
“David,” the tall man spoke. His call was answered by a raised chest followed by a hissing breath. “You’ve been here for quite some time,” the man continued. “It’s not like you.”
A low, gravely voice drifted up from David’s mouth, though he did not look up or open his eyes. “I’m sorry to be a bother to you, but I don’t have any work to take me away from here. As soon as I do, I’ll be gone.”
“I hope you won’t be.” The man shifted uneasily and David cracked an eyelid. The feet before him were wrapped in fine leather, the leather wrapped in dust. Precisely tailored pants fell to the ankles and ran the entire length of the man’s legs with no frayed strands or patches thinned by wear. The pants disappeared into an impressive coat and vest which spoke of high position, though they did not sport the gilded ornaments favored by nobility. David’s eye wandered over the ensemble and had nearly retired from its work when a slight glint of metal shone out from beneath the vest. David’s brow arched slightly, but not enough to be noticed. It was the badge of an elected official, one ornament that meant more than all the silver and gems of an aristocrat. As his eye again drew its blinds, David assembled the information and grinned.
“I’m a beaten man,” he drawled. “I’m covered in dirt, flies, and things I won’t say. But that’s not why people avoid me. What possible use could the law have for someone like me?”
“The law doesn’t consider you a criminal, even if everyone else does. You may have been a vigilante before, but I’m interested in your skill. I may have been chosen by the people to protect them, but I can’t do everything they need me to. Your success tells me that you are the one they need in this situation.”
David growled, “My success is what makes them hate me.” The lawman began to respond, but David cut him short. “What situation?”
The lawman gathered himself up and squared his shoulders to David. “Do you mean to say that you will help? It will do me no good to discuss the matter if you are already set against it.”
“Let’s just say I do not return the people’s sentiments to them.”
The lawman set his jaw and nodded shortly. “I hoped so. Perhaps you would join me in my quarters.”
David heaved himself out of his chair and slowly raised his head from his chest. When his eyes opened they were already fixed on the doors. He made for the exit and reached behind him to straighten his earthen coat. As it fell, the lawman caught a momentary glimpse of black gunmetal. Two bores shone darkly across the small of David’s back, then disappeared behind the pale curtain of his coat.
The lawman smiled to himself and matched David’s strides. “You won’t be alone,” he said.
“That’s too bad.”
“You may think differently soon enough.”
“Don’t suppose you’ll have a drink for my horse.”
“That, and a stronger one for you, if you want.”
“Depends on the situation.”
David rested his shoulder on the doorframe, barely within the room. The trappings were lavish – more so than any he had seen before. The warping boards of the original floor were obscured by bright rugs immaculately placed to accentuate the shape of the room. The walls were heavily adorned with trophies taken from all manner of four-legged creatures, though not a single hunter’s weapon was to be seen. Three gigantic armchairs delineated the central court of the room, and a neatly carved and finished table stood in the center, holding the room together. In all the furnishings, precious metals glinted, but the true wonder was in the colors. Vibrant greens, blues, and purples wrapped about the room. Their glow was in stark contrast with the dull earth tones that dominated the land and town around them. The auspicious surroundings triggered David to thinking, and he quickly realized why the officials of this town would be suspicious of anyone who lived in such wealth.
David declined the offer of a seat, though the others had not. Katrina already reclined in one of the chairs, settling with an ease that was unnerving to David. Beneath her carved eyebrows, her eyes absorbed the scene before her with an unnatural mix of caring and detachment. Gerald hesitated a moment before seating himself, putting on an air of comfort and fixing his eyes on the host. Those eyes browsed quickly over every detail of the man before him from behind smoke-tinted glasses. The host himself was middle-aged, with jet black hair combed over tracts of his scalp which threatened to bald at any time. His dress fit well with his home. Silver chains swing from pocket to pocket, and his black suit was adorned with all manner of brightly colored gems and trinkets. He was pouring drinks as his guests settled themselves. The etched glasses he poured into were no more hushed than any of their surroundings. Gerald accepted the first glass, but Katrina and David declined to drink. The host shrugged and downed one of the drinks himself, then refilled the glass and capped the bottle. Once the liquid was sitting calmly in his stomach, he spoke.
“I’m grateful to have visitors, even if it is an official matter. I don’t see many faces at my door.”
Gerald grinned and candidly cut in. “That’s the way it is when you’re not well liked.”
The host cracked a brief smile. “So it is. But why have you come and changed that? How is it that I concern the keepers of order, and why do they no come themselves?”
“Because the people are the ones concerned, Michael,” Katrina answered. Her voice was soft, unassuming. “As some of them, we are here to find out why you’ve been stirring things up.”
“But you were sent by the deputy. You didn’t come of your own accord. If I were a suspicious man, I would think you were sent to spy on me.” Michael paused and tilted his head as an idea crossed his mind. “But if they sent you to spy on me, surely you would have come – alone.” He smiled a self-assured smile. Katrina sat still, unmoved by the indictment. Seeing this, Michael drew himself up and glazed over the topic. “So, since you are not here for dishonest reasons, tell me your concerns.”
Katrina spoke again in the same even tone. “You have been making comments to folk around here that have been putting them on edge. We simply want to know why you are saying these things.”
“People are always disturbed by the truth,” Michael stated, gazing out a window as commoners passed by. “They don’t like to hear of their own vice, and the trouble it will bring them.” He turned and focused directly on his questioner. “The people of this town are consumed by their own distrust and malice for others. I’m sure you three have already felt it, but soon every one of them will feel the sting of their neighbor’s misguided wrath.”
“You don’t give them the credit they deserve,” Gerald said. “A town like this is built on cooperation. The land demands it. They will not risk the future of their children over petty squabbles.”
“Won’t they? You’re a man well acquainted with risks. You know that there comes a time to gamble everything you have for your own goals.”
“I think this is a little different. I don’t gamble with people’s lives.”
“No, but you’ve never had a reason to.” Michael shifted his eyes to the ceiling. “Have you ever heard of a place called Salem?”
David’s ears caught the name and his nerves snapped to attention, his eyes narrowing. Michael did not notice David’s slight movements, and went on, “No I don’t suppose you’ve been far enough east to hear of that ill-fated town. The people there were thrown into a bloodthirsty frenzy because of their own selfish convictions, and they would spare nothing, not blood or life. All it takes is a small disturbance. A dream, a nightmare, and these people will also be at the throats of their fellow men. I’m just a mirror for these people. I tell them of themselves, and they don’t like it. I will not strike them, if that is your concern. But they will strike at each other soon enough.”
“You are certain of this?” Katrina asked.
“Quite so.”
“And you will do nothing?”
“I will not meddle in their affairs. But when they begin to accuse each other, this house will be safe. I will hide them from their accusers if they seek my help.”
The soft tones of conversation were broken by the sharp percussion of the outer door latching itself. The three turned to find David’s place empty. Gerald and Katrina rose, and started toward the door.
“I’m afraid we need to leave,” Gerald called over his shoulder. “Sorry it has to be in such a hurry.”
“It’s quite alright,” Michael returned. “Would you care for a drink for the road?” He extended a mug brimming with golden liquid and froth, but the two continued on.
“I’m afraid not,” Katrina answered. “It’s bad for business.” She through a parting smile and stepped through the door, latching it behind her.
Outside, they hastened to David who was readying his horse.
“Now that we’re here, might you explain why we’re cutting the conversation short?” Gerald demanded.
“We’ve heard enough,” David replied.
“And just where are you going?” Katrina added, her frustration showing for the first time.
“Looking for trouble.”
“And what will you do when you find it?”
“Lead it back to Michael.”
The noon sun had chased most life out of the open stretches when David led the group through winding avenues that struck out beyond the huddled buildings of the town’s heart. An uncomfortable silence had overtaken the companions, but it was not to last for long.
“Michael was holding something back, but I’m not sure what,” Katrina offered. Her tone was quiet, pensive.
“Well, it sure wasn’t his bile,” Gerald grunted.
Katrina looked up from where her feet swung beside the hindquarters of Gerald’s horse. A smile was sneaking across her face, but Gerald did not see it. His eyes were fixed on the hypnotic bobbing of the tail in front of him.
“He’s a poor bluffer, anyway,” he added. “He’s not the kindly messenger he would like us to think.”
“But what can we do?” Katrina sighed. “The deputy asked us to end any designs he’s developing, but all we’ve managed to do is find out that the designs are there.”
“But still beyond or reach,” Gerald finished the thought. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his saddle-horn. “You don’t have to bluff if you’re holding all the cards.”
“Sounds like we don’t know where to go from here”
“But we’re going, all the same.”
“I wonder what’s eating him.”
David answered Katrina’s whispered inquiry without turning. “I got tired of looking at leaves and fruit.”
Gerald and Katrina exchanged puzzled glances.
“Sometimes you have to dig deeper,” David droned. “I’m looking for the root of his evil.”
It was not long before David found what he was looking for. He reigned in his horse beside a small plot of land, covered in stalks of wheat. The harvest had begun weeks before for the rest of the farmers, but these plants had not been touched. Gerald’s horse stopped quickly, barely avoiding collision with David’s. It sputtered in its annoyance, then followed David’s gaze out over the lilting pods.
Katrina slipped from her seat and walked to the edge of the field. “He won’t be earning much from this field,” she concluded. “It’s a tiny patch, and it will be past due in the next few days.
“Something tells me he doesn’t make a habit of selling any of his produce,” David said as he passed her, leading his horse straight into the sea of wheat.
Katrina dropped her eyes and thought. “No, he’s never bought or sold anything in town. Nothing I’ve known about.”
“I don’t think he earns his money anywhere around here, but I do think he spends it right where we’re standing.” The words had barely passed between them when David’s head snapped to his right. He dropped his reigns and gave a quick knock against his saddle blankets with his left hand. The blankets hissed as a rifle dropped from between their folds. David caught the stock on the toe of his boot and tilted the weapon towards him. With a flick of his ankle, he sent the bore straight up in the air, and within a second the rifle was seated snugly against his shoulder, the barrel looking directly down the gullet of another rifle. A short man crouched silently among the wheat stalks, his head just below their peaks. Everything about him was calm and quiet, but his eyes revealed consternation – his prey was more dangerous than he had supposed. David’s eyes had frozen over, and he stared at the stalker with unearthly malice.
“What in Tarnation!” Gerald’s voice boomed as he hastened along the path cut by David’s horse. The assailant looked to Gerald for a moment, and before he could look back, David had lunged and pressed his rifle’s bore against his opponent’s. He wrapped the threatening weapon, throwing its angle down and to the side. Startled, the stalker clenched his hands, and man-made thunder swarmed through the field. His rifle jumped off of his shoulder, and he jolted backward, falling heavily from his precarious stance. His next moment of consciousness found an angry muzzle inches from his face and an angrier demand impinging on his ears.
"Get up."
The man grappled with his shaking limbs and managed to right himself.
"I take it you were planning to escort us somewhere."
No answer was apparent.
"I suggest you take us there anyway."
Still, there was no answer.
"Or we could stand here all day and wait until you're missed."
That one triggered something in the man. Imagined consequences widened his eyes and he turned without a word.
Four figures soon stood before a barn. The doors stood open, framing a black rectangle of the interior. David's attacker was the first into the dim chamber. David followed close behind, pausing momentarily to let his eyes adjust. His ears caught the clicking of metal and glass in a far corner before his eyes were ready. Holding his head in the direction of the noise, he waited. An image quickly coalesced in his eyes. Michael stood in the corner, a series of glasses holding clear liquids in front of him.
The assailant's voice broke the silence. "Uh, sir, I've brought the cow-hand."
Michael stood straighter. He reached into the corner and pulled a silver-headed cane to his side. He spun on his heels to face the new arrivals, and as he did, a smile fell precipitously from his face. This was not the scene he had envisioned.
David shifted his rifle's aim to rest on Michael's chest and nodded curtly. "Thanks for making yourself so easy to find, and so easy to accuse. Maybe you will be more complete in your story now that you've been truly suspicious."
"I've told you all there is to tell," Michael snarled. "This place is marked. Everyone in this town will die, starting with you!" Michael gave his cane a sharp shake and the shaft fell away, revealing cold metal. He raised the weapon and raced toward David, but a sharp command from the rifle ended his advance. His body collapsed instantly to the ground, his sword falling powerless beside him.
David remained unmoved, but Katrina and Gerald were visibly shaken. The sudden beginning and end of conflict had overwhelmed them. Gerald shook himself of the shock first, and managed a weak comment. "So much for arrogance."
David started. Familiar sounds reached him, and he leapt aside instinctively. The ground at his feet shot into the air as another shot reverberated. He dropped his unwieldy rifle and reached behind his back, procuring one of his handguns while dashing across the floor of the barn. He scanned his surroundings as he moved, and in a moment caught sight of his attacker, who ran along a ledge that circled the barn. He swung his rifle wildly, trying to steady it, but failing. David's handgun spoke, and the man stumbled, toppling over the ledge. His body lashed the ground violently. He lay still initially, then began to struggle against his unresponsive limbs. His struggle came to an abrupt end.
David sighed and replaced his revolver. He turned to an impressed grin on Gerald's face. Katrina set her jaw and advanced toward the prone strangers. Gerald followed her with his eyes. His expression changed to one of uncomfortable surprise.
"Whoa, give the dead some respect!"
Katrina shook off the criticism. "I'll just say his last invitation was an open one." She rose from crouching over the still body. When she returned to the others she carried a small pouch. Opening it, she poured out a pile of gray powder. “This is a strange thing to hide so carefully,” she mused.
David walked over to her, a grave expression hardening his face. He pinched a portion of the dust and rubbed it between his fingers. It was extremely fine – almost fluid. He turned quickly on a heel and hastened out of the barn. As he moved, he muttered “mold” under his breath. The others exchanged questioning looks, then hurried after David.
He stopped at the nearest shoots of grain and plucked a shaft. He removed the grains and squeezed one in his fingers. The husk crumbled, revealing a hollow center, eaten out by mold. The husk fragments lay in a gray cloud of spores.
David clenched his teeth. “He’s tainted the crops. That’s why he never harvested his own.”
“I guess that explains why his fields are so small,” Katrina added. “But what will it do? Is it poison?”
Gerald stepped in. “I doubt it. That would be too obvious. He wanted to be seen as a savior. If people were poisoned, it wouldn’t help his case.”
“Then what?” Katrina puzzled.
“You might be surprised at the things people will do when they grow tired of everyday life,” Gerald continued. “Some things can play tricks on a person’s mind, without being fatal.”
Katrina’s eyes widened. “He said they only needed a push to put them over the edge –“
“I think this is more than a friendly nudge,” David grunted. “How long ago did the town harvest? Has this year’s grain been used yet?”
“Not yet,” Gerald answered. “But it will be soon.”
“Then we’d better hurry back.”
When the three reached the outlying building of the town, they discovered that they had been missed. The sinking afternoon sun reflected off of a crowd of glistening faces and bodies streaked with sweat. A tall man stepped out from the front of the crowd as the horses approached.
“Well, if this isn’t the finest collection of ne’er-do-goods I’ve ever seen! What have you been about? Somehow I think shooting pea cans is too tame for the likes of you three.”
Katrina slipped from the back of Gerald’s horse in a huff, and Gerald rapidly dismounted after her.
“We’ve only done what none of the rest of you had the courage to do!” She retorted. “You’ve all sat around and set yourselves up for a fall! At least we did something about it!”
Gerald added to the fray. “You all have to avoid this year’s crop! It’s tainted!”
The tall man scoffed at them. “You have blood on your conscience, and now you want us to starve? Maybe we’ll let you starve instead – in a cell!”
As if on cue, clumps of people surged out of the crowd and confined Gerald and Katrina, while others started to run toward David. Two flashes zipped through the air, and the crowd paused as David leveled two rifles at the front of the charge.
“Wait just a minute,” he mandated. “What we’ve done, we’ve done on orders from your own deputy sheriff. We’ve done nothing wrong.”
A voice raised out of the middle of the swarm. “Nothing wrong! What audacity! We know your past, cow herder. And we know theirs, too. We’ve had a little talk with our deputy, and we don’t think he’s representing us very well. We’ll do what we find to be right, now. Just how many more deaths are you willing to cause?”
As the speech had been droning on, several of the people had taken out their own firearms, and David found himself looking down dozens of muzzles at once.
“Only one,” he said to himself. His hands released their grips, but the rifles had not even touched the ground before the first bullets ripped through his heart.
The townsfolk wasted no time reaching their verdict, and even less in erecting a twin gallows. They were all of a single mind, and the sun was still glistening on the horizon when Gerald and Katrina stood on the town’s newest structure. Katrina looked across at Gerald, who had been starting at the boards beneath his feet.
“Maybe they’ll realize what’s happening in time. Maybe they’ll remember our warnings.”
Gerald answered by raising up his head and giving her a quiet, knowing look through his glasses. She knew what he meant, and echoed it to herself.
“No, they will be killed.”
She cast her eyes to the sun, and her last vision was of a great dust devil climbing high above the town, consuming the sphere of light.
The arid landscape was soon marked only by rubble and debris. Without anyone to keep it, the town had crumbled and sank into the waiting soil. Sparse planks still broke the surface, charred and misshapen by rage. Madness had descended, and dragged the people with it, until finally the last of their earthly works slipped beneath the surface, down to the earthen sepulcher. |
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