AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (124) 58th And L (Poetry) Becoming a man [95 words] [Drama] A City Pineapple (Poetry) - [117 words] A Fair Brown Maiden (Poetry) - [155 words] [Erotic] A Father And Son Chat (Short Stories) Are racists born or are they made? [278 words] A Good Vision Demands Keen Insight (Essays) This is a part of a larger work entitled the New Union Standard. [1,302 words] [History] A Grand New Age2 (Novels) The final chapter of a middle reader novel I am about to submit. [1,531 words] [Fantasy] A Matter Of Faith (Novels) This is a small section of a piece I'm tossing about entittled "Calling all Angels". [408 words] [Fantasy] A New Iraq- Repost (Poetry) For the brave Iraqis who chose liberty over fear and voted in the first democratic election ever! [45 words] A Peaceful Sabbath (Short Stories) A reflection on modern times. 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[578 words] [Crime] Clean Things...Part One (Short Stories) Unchecked desire can lead a man to the dirty things in humanity. [463 words] [Crime] Clean Things...The Conclusion (Short Stories) There's one thing with being right...being dead wrong! [734 words] [Crime] Colloquium Part Two (Short Stories) Ryder arrives at Moon Base George W. Bush in the 21st century. [349 words] [Science Fiction] Colloquium...Part One (Short Stories) Inhabitants on a planet prepares to travel in time in order to save their own world [431 words] [Science Fiction] Colloquy (Poetry) - [37 words] Comatose (Poetry) - [92 words] Cool Moonlight Outside My Hospital Door (Poetry) Ponder life as death lingers [86 words] Droit Du Seigneur (Poetry) - [98 words] During A Nursing Home Visit (Poetry) A poem of reflection. [92 words] Egalitarianism (Short Stories) We must pay for the sins of our enculturation that tells us we own the world one way or another. 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Forgive Us Of Our Debts...Finale E Rocco Caldwell
It was his orange boots every black Coltrane questioned concerning the burning of Free Town recalled. The ones who did the burning wore hoods like the Klan but the boots were clearly seen against the burning of town. Coltrane knew a heartless bastard that rode with James Bennett by the name of Tommy "Orange Boots" McClain. He killed Shawnee for free just because he liked to.
"Bastard never had someone shooting back when he did his killing," Coltrane said struggling to stay aright in his saddle. Someone had been following him every since the pass and whoever it was knew how to track. Coltrane figured a Shawnee maybe Apache? He didn't like having someone on his rear so accomplished but stopping and rooting him out would take too much time so he decided to continue riding and force whoever tracking him to stop. If it was an Indian Coltrane would be the one stopping first because an Indian could ride for three straight nights have his horse dropped dead and then walk a week longer. Coltrane was running out of bullets too. He had only the six in the Peacemaker none in the Schofield and twenty rounds for the Spencer. He hadn't killed so many in such a short period before but opportunities did present themselves and he wasn't one to past up on opportunity.
The dawn winked at the horizon and his hands were nearly frozen. His face ached from the dust and dried sweat. The pain traveled from his buttocks to his neck. His horse was fatigue and he knew he had to stop or kill the horse. He climbed down and began the ritual of undoing the saddle. His horse was froth with sweat and its breathing so anxious it cause Coltrane some concern. He wiped down the animal and gave it water and cornmeal. He was weary but knew he couldn't rest long. A company of pissed off soldiers were a few hours behind him. He figured he had one hour. He could still move faster than the company even on his tired horse. He pulled the Peacemaker from his belt and sat on the saddle. He watched the dawning sky.
Lace was her name and she was beautiful like the winters in Pennsylvania when the shutters and trees were iced over. Her skin was so soft and she always smelled of peaches and larch pine cones. He met her sort of mysteriously at a general store rally he led. He loved to watch her dance studying her compact shape in the long corset. The way her apple blonde hair drifted gently on the air and her laugh brought such peace to him. She was a devote Quaker, an abolitionist even in Missouri where the state was split over slavery she told him. All he knew of her family was that her older sister died of Scarlet Fever after marrying an engineer.
"Easy, Mister Coltrane," Lincoln's voice said bringing Coltrane out of the dream. The Belgian revolver Lincoln held was pointed in his face.
"That was you following me, Lincoln?" Coltrane smiled. "You had to have had Indian training.
"Never mind that, sir. You just drop the colt and I'll take the Schofield too." Coltrane was impressed the way Lincoln watched his every move. He reached for the Schofield. "Sir, please hand me the gun butt first."
"You've done this sort of stuff before, Mister Washington." Coltrane leaned against the saddle. He placed his right hand on his right knee. "Now what are you going to do?"
"I going to take you to Topeka and turn you in to the sheriff. I'll testify that the shootings were in a fair fight for you though. But, Mister Coltrane, I can't have you killing people so you can repay a debt you owe me. I told you that you didn't owe me a thing."
"You don't get it do you? This isn't for you! I was killing railroad people years before I got to Sweetwater. I did all this to revenge my father and brother both of them tied so tight in barbwire they had blood squeezing from their skin! I did this for the animals that raped and murdered my wife! You have nothing to do with this! But if you need convincing then I guess I'll have to convince you!" Suddenly a derringer popped out from beneath his right sleeve. "Now you're a big man but this here derringer has two shots and I know I won't miss placing one of them right between your eyes! So please drop that Belgian." Lincoln allowed the gun to fall to the ground lifitng his hands over his head.
"That's a hell of a trick, sir," Lincoln said.
"Got this from a card dealer I shot in the head thought it might come in handy." Coltrane rose to his feet. "If you don't mind could you place my blanket and saddle on my horse?" Lincoln did as Coltrane wanted.
"Are you going to kill me?" Lincoln asked.
Coltrane climbed on to his horse and broke out in laughter. "No, Lincoln, if I killed you I would still owe you that debt so now we are all even up. You saved my life and I don't take yours!" The reasoning in Coltrane's statement made Lincoln Washington smile but only for a very short period of time because he knew that a man driven by revenge followed a fool's path.
"They are going to eventually kill you, Mister Coltrane. You know that don't you?"
"Hell, Lincoln, everybody has to die one day." Coltrane turned his horse and headed for Topeka.
Topeka was one of the fastest growing towns in Kansas because of the Oregon Trail and the railroad. It didn't take Coltrane long to discover that Charles Caldwell lived on a large ranch just outside of Topeka. It was once Shawnee land. Everything was once Indian land! The road to Caldwell's ranch had two deputies from Topeka and three Pinkerton agents on it to protect the wealthy railroad man. The Pinkerton men wore their fancy suits and derbies. Coltrane knew if he used the Spencer it would alert Caldwell and the town but in close he could use the Peacemaker it was much quieter. He retrieved the bola hanging on the side of his saddle and rode normally towards the men.
He was nearly twenty yards away before one of the Pinkerton agents noticed him. Coltrane pulled the Peacemaker from his belt and jammed his spurs into the horse. The horse jumped forward. He aimed the peacemaker at the man's head and fired. The Pinkerton agent crumbled to the dirt road. The others reacted reaching for their guns but the Pinkerton agents wore shoulder hostlers and couldn't clear their guns. Coltrane dropped both of them in four shots. He tossed the bola towards one of the deputies watching it tangle around his neck. He fired at the other deputy dropping him beside the two dead agents. Coltrane stopped his horse and walked over to the deputy trying to untangle the bola. He pointed the empty Peacemaker at the man.
"Is Caldwell at his house?" The man nodded. Coltrane remounted and headed for the ranch.
Coltrane looked through the scope on the Spencer placing the cross on Charles Caldwell dressed in his Sunday's best. It was Sunday morning Coltrane realized. The day use to hold a special meaning in his life. Caldwell climbed up on the buckboard and stared at his pocket watch. He leaned over and kissed a woman seating next to him on the cheek. Coltrane caught a glimpse of the woman's hair. He moved the scope over to the woman seated properly beside Caldwell and Coltrane's heart froze. He couldn't believe what his eyes were telling him but she had the apple blonde hair and her features were undeniable. He could never mistake the look. The woman seated beside Caldwell was Lace's sister. The sister who left after college to marry an engineer that engineer was Charles Caldwell. But Lace said her only sister died from Scarlet fever. Then it came to Coltrane how Lace's face was smashed in so she couldn't be recognized. He recalled how the railroad always knew what he was planning with the farmers! How he met Lace after his father and brother were killed! She was a Pinkerton agent always had been planted to learn of his plans. Coltrane's heart choked him and his eyes filled with tears. Rage was something he was used to but it mastered him in that moment! He squeezed the trigger of the Spencer watching her head explode and spray blood all over Caldwell. At that moment anything and everything good in Coltrane died. A man can't live owing!
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