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Revolver X Katana Episode 2: A Slight Complication
“ I told ya he was a chiseler, and he’s a china man now get ‘em both!” Michael shouted.
“I am Japanese!” Hasame yelled, offended.
The townsfolk came runnin’ towards us at Michael’s command. It was like a stampede as the dozens of feet of the rampagin’ townsfolk slammed on the ground. Nothin’ was stoppin’ ‘em now, so I got straight up outta my chair jumped on the table to get a better view of an escape route (Not before grabbin’ my earnin’s or course), but Hasame just calmly stepped out of his chair and began drawing his sword. I didn’t know what the Jap was thinkin’ but I didn’t give him a chance to show anybody, I grabbed his arm and pulled him up on the table.
“What do you think you are doing?” Hasame asked blankly, as if I was a minor hindrance to whatever plan was runnin’ through his mind.
“savin’ your hide from doin’ somethin’ stupid! Just do what I do and we’ll get outa this mess.” I pointed at a small opening in the crowd between the woman with the eye patch and the doctor where I was plannin’ to jump to the next table through ‘em. Hasame seemed to be two steps ahead because by the time I looked back at him he was already in the air. He landed with same style that he had before, and looked back at me impatiently. I got a runnin’ start and kicked off the table’s edge , unfortunately my time in the air didn’t go as smoothly as his did, and I started comin’ down too early, right in the middle of the lot of ‘em. The woman’s hand reached fer a gun in her coat pocket.
Bang!!!!
Her limp body fell flat backwards on to the doctor behind her, blood trickled down her forehead. Me and Hasame took the opportunity to run straight out the saloon door. I looked around for a place to hide, and I saw the train station. “Here, let’s go in the station, there’s bound to be stuff to hide behind.” My suggestion didn’t seem to sit well with my Asian partner.
“I will not hide, especially since there is no point, I can take on these barbarians. Wait here if you want to be a coward.” He went for his sword again and began walkin’ to the saloon, but I grabbed him by the shoulder.
“Look partner, I’m sure you can handle a pack of drunk, stupid locals. You don’t want to be stirring up that kind of trouble, you’ll wind up with bounty on yer head, and be dead within the month.” Hasame gave me the look of a stubborn ass that finally gave way and went with me to the station. When we got there, I saw what looked like a cargo loadin’ area, on an elevated wood floor, with several piles of wooden barrels and crates. We hid ourselves among the cargo, and it looked like we had lost ‘em. “Damn preacher just had to get me to shoot ‘em, I wasn’t plannin’ fer a darin’ escape today. Well, at least I made a fine dollar offa the Lord’s right hand man before I have to be jumpin’ from the flames of Hell.”
“I hope you jump from flames better than tables.” Hasame laughed at me.
“Look here, I don’t usually have to jump from tables, so excuse me if I’m not hoppin’ like a damn Jackrabbit . I don’t know what the hell happened to my sleeves that they split open like that, I gotta stop buyin’ the cheap clothes.”
“Oh no, it was not your clothes, it was me.” Hasame continued chuckling.
“What the hell do you mean it was you?!” I whispered angrily. I was trying to keep from bein’ noticed by our adorin’ fans, but trying to fight the urge to punch Hasame’s smirkin’ bazoo in.
“I mean I cut your sleeves, I saved you from the dishonor of a life of cheating so tha…” SMACK!! Right then I showed him what I thought of his savin’ me and I punched him square in his tiny, self-righteous nose. His hat flew off and he flew straight into a barrel pile, knockin’ ‘em over and buryin’ him. While he was under, I managed to put two and two together. Punchin’ a guy who can cut my sleeves from across a table, without me even noticing, may not have been a good showin’ of my brains. Hasame was down for a minute and then started pushin’ the cargo offa him, and I made a sound somewhere between “gulp” and “crap”; somethin’ like “crulp” or “cralp” or maybe even a simple “shit”; either way I was not in an agreeable situation. Not that I couldn’t have taken the Asian, it just wasn’t the time to be shootin’ signals to my “rescuing party”. Hasame got up from the barrels and gave me a look of disappointment.
“These barrels are heavy, you could have killed me, and some of them have a horrible odor.” Hasame patted dust off his clothes and retrieved his hat.
“Judging from the smell, I’d say cow manure, and I wish you had gotten buried in it. I was tryin’ to earn me an honest day’s pay when you so rudely outed me. Now once word spreads, ain’t no one goin’ to play me in five finger fillet, let alone poker. I don’t know what manners they teach you over in Japan, but over here, when you see a man chiselin’, you shut yer yap and let him work!” Poker was about the only thing that gave me a good time anymore, not that the people I played were ever any good, they weren’t, but their money was good to buy gin and a night at the local bordello. If it was a “good” Christian town like this one, then I just used the money to get drunk and usually ended up takin’ a leak on the front door of the church, not that I’m a blasphemer, the town preacher usually joined me.
“Don’t worry… I’m sorry what was your name?” Hasame asked.
“Jim.”
“Yes, Jim, well don’t worry I’m beginning to think that I may have the wrong man regardless. I wouldn’t want to be traveling the country with a man who punches people he met 5 minutes ago.”
“You got me run outta town!”
“Are you arguing the point? Maybe you do want to join me after all.”
“…. look shut yer damn trap, I told you I ain’t got no interest!” I was startin’ to get to the point where I was lyin’. When Hasame mentioned travelin’ around the country, my ears perked up a bit out of excitement, and I think Hasame was readin’ me.
“Yes, you told me that before, so once we deal with this current problem, we can part. Though of course you made even that more irritating than it needed to be.” Hasame answered in a half smart ass tone.
“What are you talkin’ about.” I asked.
“The old woman, the town’s people aren’t going to be happy about that.”
“What about the old hag?” I knew in the back of my head what he was talkin’ about, a man don’t shoot a woman down and expect to hear the end of it. I knew, but I still wanted to play stupid about it fer as long as I could before a bounty hunter came and broke my head in.
“Drifter! Now you ain’t getting’ nowhere alive, you killed Ashley! Get out here now, so we can all get our shots in on ya!” That gave me my answer, and my time in this town was about up. Me and Hasame crouched as close down as we could behind the barrels, and I began thinkin’ about how to get out of our unfortunate predicament. “If you ain’t comin’ out, we’s just gonna have to look fer ya and then when we find ya, we’s gonna take our time with ya instead!” The yellin’ seemed to be gettin’ closer to the station. I looked around to find a better place to evade the posse and I took notice of the fairly large barrels. I could see a person fittin’ in ‘em.
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“We’ll hide in these barrels; no one would think to look in ‘em, too original.” I whispered to Hasame.
“Everyone has thought of that, why don’t I just send up a flag to tell them we are here, at least then I could just deal with them and be done with it.”
“You are givin’ these drunkards too much credit, they don’t have the brains to think to look in there.”
“I think they will if they see all the contents of them spilled around them” Hasame pointed out. He was right, I had to think how to hide the cargo or find an almost empty barrel. I began tapping lightly on some barrels, listening to see how hollow they sounded. Luckily, I managed to find at least one with enough room for a person.
“Got a barrel I can hide in over here.” I said
“What about me?” Hasame asked.
“What about you? You got us into this mess, have fun findin’ another barrel.” I started climbin’ in and Hasame gave an annoyed sigh. He took out his sword and looked at the top of one of the barrels.
“Apples, I can deal with that.” He spoke to himself. He then took out his sword and started to be trace a circle on the floor. Then he made a quick swiping motion and a clean cut circle hole formed on the wood floor. Then he kicked over the apple barrel, opened it, and dumped the apples down the hole.
“They will notice a big hole in the floor Asian man.” I smirked back at him.
Hasame merely looked disinterested in my remark as he continued his work. He then moved the other cargo over the hole, covering it from sight. “Now we may continue to hide like cowards in peace.” And with that we both hopped in our barrels. As I made myself as comfortable as I was gonna be in a barrel in hot as hell desert weather, I heard footsteps comin’ into the station.
“Where the hell did those yellow bellies run off to?” Said a male voice.
“I’d be hiding too if we was comin’ after me! Yoo Hoo!” A female this time. BANG! BANG! Two gunshots went off, sounded like a buffalo rifle too, great all’s I need to deal with right now is heavily armed inbred drunkards.
“Ya idiot, why are you firin’ randomly into the air?!”
“Uh, I don’t know, I was just getting’ excited is all, you know we’s gonna kill the bunko artist who killed Ashley, that’s kinda excitin’.”
“But we gonna have a hard time doin’ that with no ammo!”
“I hadn’t thought of that, you’s always were the brains honey.”
“Damn Eliza, you’s the reason people think we’re just a bunch of inbred drunks.”
I was getting’ tired listenin’ to these morons, their voices were like iron nails grindin’ down a chalkboard and the heat inside the barrel was makin’ me awful irritable.
“But we are inbred cousin.”
And they keep goin’
“We’s different, we’s love each other, and don’t you know they say true love kills ‘em all, er somethin’ like that”
True love conquers all! God just take me now if I can just stop hearin’ these two.
“Yer right cousin, I love you.”
That was it, I was gonna get up and shoot these two in head to shut ‘em up, I didn’t care about any bounty. I grabbed my gun as sweat was rollin’ down my face and my eyes were gettin’ blurry, but luckily the two were called away by some of the other townsfolk. I had to get out and get some air, I was startin’ to feel faint. I lifted up the lid some to see if I was in the clear, and I saw a train was comin’ to the station. It looked like a passenger train with a few extra cars to transport cargo, and as it got closer I closed the lid and went back to hidin’. I started wondering what Hasame was doin’ this whole time, he must have been in the same predicament, but I didn’t see or hear a peep out of ‘em. The train’s steam engine was gettin’ louder and louder as it got closer until finally I heard the screeching of the brakes hittin’ the tracks. After a minute or two the train sounded like it came to a full stop, and I heard people gettin’ off close to us.
“Sorry folks, just stopping for some supplies, it will only be a minute.” I assumed it was one of the train workers callin’ out to the passengers. I heard footsteps getting’ closer and closer to us.
“We should really consider stocking up on supplies before trips, I hate having to carry all these heavy barrels.” So I went from the two love birds to listenin’ to a train worker complain about his job, why is it I need to be hearin’ everyone’s life story while I’m in here. I didn’t have to listen for long though, I felt me gettin’ picked up. “Ug! What’s in these barrels! Potatoes!? Must be enough in there to give the passengers mashed potatoes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the next month.” The trainman then put down and went out fer more. I must’ve been a half hour before the train started movin’ again, damn train workers always lie about how long things take. I remember one time I was travelin’ to California by train and the conductor just stopped the train, and said “Hey wait folks we gotta do some emergency repairs, but it will only take 5 minutes.” 3 hours later, he came back drunk and once he started up the train again, it caught fire. The guys workin’ the furnace panicked and ended up sendin’ some hot coal through the air which went right into my hand, givin’ me a nice memento to remember my experience with Douglas Train Transport with. Not the war wound Hasame was hopin’ it was, but I had plenty of those to make up for his disappointment when he finds out. As the train started up again, I finally gave in to the heat and everything went dark.
Revolver X Katana: Episode 1 Enter the Eastern Wind
“Ya God damned, yella belly, chiseler!” Michael, the town priest, bellowed at me. “You had cards up yer sleeves the whole game!” By this time, after about two dollars worth of whiskey was in ‘em, I reckoned Michael was full as a tick, and he was just creatin’ a fuss to cover his losses. Unfortunately fer me, his blabberin’ had some truth to it, and the people in this town didn’t much care fer bunko artists. If I was found out, I’d reckon I’d be run straight outta town. However, Michael had garnered a reputation fer shootin’ his mouth when the goin’s got tough fer him in Texas Hold ‘Em.
“Pull in your horns, ya godly drunkard, I ain’t got no cards up my sleeve, and even if I did, I wouldn’t need ‘em. Yer Poker face is about as solid as the crap that comes outta me after I eat the food of this here fine establishment.” The other people in the saloon gotta kick outta that one, even the bartender and the other fellas that I’d done busted outta the game earlier. That was the reaction I needed outta ‘em, I needed to make sure Michael was the joke, and that no one was gonna take ‘em seriously. “Now why don’t you hobble yer lip, and let’s wind up this here match.”
“Shut yer mouth, a swindler like you has no right talkin’ to a man of God like that. I say you got cards up yer sleeve, and I never lie,” Michael claimed.
“If that’s so, then maybe that’s why yer such a deadbeat poker player!” I joked back. Again, I proved to be makin’ a fool outta Michael; the patrons’ laughter got louder. Michael didn’t much appreciate bein’ the butt of a joke, and the more people laughed the angrier, and stupider, he got. He got up outta his chair and leered at me.
“You think it’s funny, what yer doin’? The lord doesn’t take kindly to those who break his sixth commandment ya goddamned sinner!” Michael hollered at me. I thought to myself how funny it was that most of my loudest opponents in Texas Hold ‘Em were some form of holy men. Like Michael, they all lost their flannel mouths once they started turnin’ up losses while gambling, some I didn’t even swindle before they started runnin’ their mouth’s. Some were heeled and could think of nothin’ better than to draw on me. Since those times I learned to always carry a six shooter, and to spot whether my opponents did the same. Judgin’ from the holster on his right thigh, Michael was lookin’ to be one of those times.
“Well I guess it’s good that I ain’t goin’ to bed with ya, otherwise the Lord himself might have to come down here, and then I’d actually have to fight for my money!” I blasphemed back. The entire saloon was in an uproar of laughter, Michael, the town idiot at the center of it all.
“That’s it! I’ll show ya what cheaters get around here!” hollered Michael, as he began to move his hand towards his holster. Before Michael could even bring his gun up to aim, I had taken my gun outta it’s holster and rested it neat in between my two hands, with my left hand leaning on the hammer. I fired two shots: one shot the gun straight outta Michael’s hand, and the other hit Michael’s hand, makin’ sure he would continue to stay unarmed. The two-bit preacher fell to the ground clutchin’ his holy hand in pain and hollerin’ the Lord’s name in vain.
“Not even a holy man points a gun at me without someone gettin’ hurt. I suggest that you lay off the liquor while playing a hand, yer life just might be a little longer that way.” I grimaced at him. I often times react completely on instinct when I see someone pullin’ a gun, somethin’ of a habit from the service. I learned to defend my life as a second nature, and a threat to my life can give me a bit of a blow-up. Unfortunately, I didn’t need to be causing no ruckus, I needed to quit while’n I was ahead.
As I began thinkin’ about how to weasel my way outta this situation, I looked around and realized the peanut gallery had switched from laughing at Michael’s expense to givin’ me a collective evil eye. I reckoned that my hasslin’ of the priest was all in good fun, but shootin’ him mighta’ pushed my luck.
“You should learn to keep yer trigger finger in check drifter, you can’t just come into a town and shot up our holy man”, said a local. His words struggling to escape from his mouthful of tobacco, causing black lines of spit to run through his knotted, snow white beard, makin’ him look like one of them Zebras. “You’s in a whole heap a’ trouble boy.”
“I say we outta hang ‘em, any man who’d shoot a holy man must surely be of the devil!” accused a small woman, with an eye patch on her left eye, and wrinkles like she was 70, though her hair being a golden blonde got me thinkin’ she was younger.
“I say we beat his pretty little face in, I get first gut punch,” said a towering man as he cracked his hairy knuckles.
“Now, now let’s not be so barbaric,” the town doctor said in a gentle voice. “We have guns for the sake of executions, much quicker and more humane.” At least someone cared.
Shootin’ Michael was not the best idea on my part; as it turns out some people just don’t stand for their Gospel sharps gettin’ shot, even if they are mudsills like Michael. “I reckon I owe y’all an apology, holy men are best to be respected, I agree. My shootin’ this here fine fellow was a simple misunderstandin’ on the part of my reflexes. Ya see, I’m somethin’ of a coward when it comes to guns, I get skittish when folks pull ‘em out. Sometimes it makes me do stupid things like shoot; however, I think we can all just push this incident under the rug, Michael should be just fine. Let’s all remember to turn the other cheek.” My ploy of innocence looked to have calmed my angry mob a bit, even if they were still arguing over how best to tan my hide. However, Michael would not turn his left ass cheek for me.
“My goddamn hand’s bleedin’ out, I’m gonna die! Yaarg! That damn hustler is a liar, a blasphemer, and a sexual deviant! String ‘em up!” I didn’t get a chance to talk back to the angry mob, or to ask Michael how he knew about my sex life. At the order of Michael, the mob of town’s people began comin’ down on me like the mallet of a particularly stupid judge. I began to inch my way back, but too little effect. I was cornered like a rat between the saloon walls and the pissed off town’s folk.
All of the sudden a queer looking guy landed between me and the crowd, he had jumped from the second floor of the saloon. He landed on all fours facing the crowd as if he were a jungle man, with the wind swishing around his loose clothing. He wore a large, circular hat that appeared to be made of straw, with metal trims on the edge. The hat came to a shallow point, and spread out over his head to about a shoulder’s length from his head, like a parasol. As he stood up, a foreign character was on the back of his upper clothes, created by a long, snake like design with golden scales, that went over his left shoulder. He had a sheath hanging by the left side of his waist, tied to his side by a cloth belt. He then quickly unsheathed a long, thin blade and pointed it directly at the crowd. “This guy must have a death wish” I thought to myself.
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“I shall deal with this man”, commanded the mysterious stranger in a heavy accent. He then turned around to face me, and stretched his arm out, as if to barricade the crowd from me with his sword. His sleeves were danglin’ lazily off his arms, as if they were made fer a bigger man. His outfit was snow white, with a cut away on his neck, revealin’ much of his chest, and a red, fire shaped trim around the neck and sleeves. The end of the snake design was apparent, it was the creature’s head breathin’ the fire that created the trims. It’s nose made up about half of its narrow face. The other half of its face was covered had thick, fiery, red fur that extended as a narrow line across the top of his body.
“Hey, get the hell outta my way.” The giant started to approach the stranger, crackin’ his fists. The stranger didn’t even turn around; his glance was fer me alone. His eyes were narrow and slanted, he was an Asian man. The Eastern Man didn’t give a continental about the giant’s threat, which seemed to both offend and stun the hard case.
“Please, join me at the table.” The stranger pointed his sword at me, while askin’ me, I guess the “please” was just good manners. I sat down at the same table I played Michael at, with my new “friend” opposite of me. He sheathed his sword and assumed a distinct posture, placin’ both his hands all neatly in his crotch. “I noticed your skill with that gun.” He liked to be gettin’ straight to the point I could see.
“Anybody coulda’ made that there shot. Michael’s fat arse made himself an easier target than a dead fish in a glass barrel when he got drunk.” The crowd growled like mutts ready to tear me apart. “Uh, not that I took pleasure in shootin’ his hand, no matter how like a dead fish it was.” My attempt at unstirrin’ the ruckus I caused was about as successful as it woulda’ been if I’d done threw a dead fish at ‘em.
“No, you made that shot so quickly, it was barely visible. You wield that gun with the grace of a katana. You hit your precise mark and put your weapon away, before most people can react.” The easterner was flatterin’ me, but oddly he sounded none too impressed. “My name is Hasame, and I have a job for one with your talents.” I had a feeling he was gettin’ around to offerin’ me some fancy job, probably to track some bounty down or kill someone he didn’t like. I was about to stop him there, but Michael did that favor fer me.
“Yer all a bunch of morons! Why haven’t ya’ll killed them yet!” Michael was not about to let our conversation go smoothly. At his hollerin’ the crowd again started inchin’ over to us, but this time I decided to put some fear in ‘em. I shot two bullets directly at the floor in front of the giant, stoppin’ ‘em all dead in their tracks. I can’t stand people who interrupt me.
“Thank you for that.” Hasame continued. “I have great need for an American with your talents, I am . . .”
“Stop right there partner, I ain’t in no mood to be taking on no jobs”. I had absolutely no desire to do any job that required my shootin’ talents, I was just fine drifting from town to town playing poker and relaxin’. I liked to avoid fightin’ when I could, often times I completely outclassed the people who I shot, that of course was if they were even game enough to be more than a yappin’ mutt. A shoot out ain’t no fun if yer targets don’t know the trigger from their trigger finger, and they certainly ain’t worth the bullets, bounty, or pissed off family members. Hasame took off his hat and gave me a stern glare, as if he was annoyed at being interrupted.
“Tell me, am I correct in assuming that you were in the military?” He gave me a quizzical look, but his eyes had a certain commandin’ look in ‘em, as if he was a law man interrogatin’ a criminal. He quickly glanced at my scar across my eye, and my burn scars on my hands. Fella’ must’ve assumed my time in the service because of my injuries and gun handlin’. Hasame, must be in the military where he’s from, and he must’ve been in it for a good long time to have that keen an eye for battle wear.
“Look china man, that ain’t none of yer business! I told ya, I ain’t takin’ no job’s and that’s all you need to know about me!” This set Hasame’s eyes on fire with anger.
“Insolent commoner, have you absolutely no manners! When two people meet, they honor each other by exchanging names, you have yet to give me your name. You yell at me as if I was an annoying beggar asking for change, and then you refuse my request! Lastly, I am not a man from China, I am Japanese!” I was taken aback by his reaction, manners were obviously very important to this man, but I honestly didn’t care a continental, I still wasn’t goin’ to take his job, and I wanted him offa my back.
“Well partner, don’t you just come in here givin’ orders like you are some eastern city-slicker business man talkin’ to his damn slaves! I don’t want yer job, and I ain’t goin’ to take it, I am fine right where I am.” My fist pounded the table with a loud thud, like a stubborn ass buckin’ an annoying ranch hand.
“By right here, you mean playing your card games, well I don’t think anyone will wish to play you if you cheat.” The crowd came back to their senses from the startlin’ I gave ‘em, and I could feel their eyes on me.
“I ain’t no damn cheater!” Just as I said that, there was a sudden white flash. “I win all my games fair and square and . . .” As I spoke I felt a cool chill on my right arm, as if it was exposed. I looked down and my sleeve was cut open, with my hidden cards spilled out all over the floor.
To Be Continued…