Mark Pearce - Issue 37

Mark Pearce is the author of three books:  Tobias and the Isle of Justice, Specimens Under Glass, and Asylum.  He has had stories published in over 80 literary journals in the United States, England, and Canada and is a two-time nominee for the Pushcart Prize and recipient of Granfalloon magazine’s “Story of the Year.”

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“This is not the world in which I was born …”

This is not the world in which I was born,

But it’s the world in which I’ll die,

Somehow the kindness all drained out,

And none can tell me why.

Is the world as harsh as it seems to be,

Or has memory dimmed the past?

No, I look around, this is truly harsh,

And it’s getting darker fast.

The world was so much kinder,

In my childhood days gone by,

This is not the world in which I was born,

But it’s the world in which I’ll die.

“Accuracy is Final”

Huachuca City stands in the middle of the hard-baked Arizona desert twenty miles north of Mexico, twenty miles west of Tombstone.  The epicenter of Hell.  Scorpions and tarantulas are its natural denizens.  They compete for survival with the human scorpions and tarantulas who have settled there.

Lank Bascom rode into town from the south along the main road, his horse’s hooves kicking up the dry dust.  He had been gone for three years.  People stopped on the street to watch him pass.  Bascom had grown up in Huachuca City.

“Tell the sheriff,” Jed Hunter said to his son, Nate.  “Tell him Lank Bascom is back in town.  Hurry, boy, and don’t let him see you.”  Nate ran out the back of the livery.

Sheriff Garr took the news stoically, but a muscle tightened across his jaw.  “Where is he?”

“Riding down main street,” said Nate.  

Garr pulled his gun from its holster and sighted down the barrel.  He spun the carriage, making sure it was fully loaded, then returned the weapon to his hip.

Billy Garr and Lank Bascom had grown up friends, but they had taken different paths.  Garr had become sheriff of Huachuca City and ridden with the Earps in their vendetta against the Clantons.  Bascom had broken rocks in Yuma territorial prison.

Bascom stopped at the saloon and tied his horse to the post.  His boots made a heavy sound on the hard wooden floor.  He stepped up to the bar.  

“Whiskey,” he said.

The bartender poured his drink.  Bascom stared at the shimmering liquid.  He had only taken a few sips when the doors to the saloon swung open.

“Hello, Lank,” said Garr.

Bascom looked up.  “Hello, Billy.”

“I didn’t think you’d come back to Huachuca.”

Bascom eyed him.  “I have business here.”

“Anne doesn’t want to see you.”

“She’s my wife.”

“My bed is warmer.”

“I just did three years in Yuma after they found the money,” said Bascom.  “How did they know where to look?”

“I told you,” said Garr.  “My bed is warmer.”

The dime novels said Billy Garr was the fastest man alive.  Even faster than Holliday.  Bascom had seen Holliday draw.  The pulps were right. 

“You can’t take me,” said Garr.  “You’re not fast enough.”

“Wyatt’s Law,” said Bascom.  “Speed is fine, but accuracy is final.”  He laid a few coins on the bar.  “I’ll be outside.”

The dry heat of Huachuca baked the hard ground.  Bascom positioned himself at one end of the street.  Garr came out of the saloon and planted himself at the other.  Bascom watched his eyes.  The decision always appeared in the eyes first.

The movement was a blur.  The shots came so close together it was difficult to tell who had fired first.

Bascom was struck in the center of his chest.  The bullet burst what was left of his heart.  He died instantly.  

Sheriff Garr was luckier.  His wound was not fatal.  

But he would never again be of any use to a woman.

THE END

“Carry Me”

Buttons was standing in her “carry me” pose.  He scooped her up.  He had always liked that little stance; almost at a right angle to him, turned slightly away, her head down, her whole body still.  She always started purring as soon as she got into position, knowing she was about to be picked up. 

He carried her along, stroking her as she purred.  It didn’t surprise him to see her standing there.  But it did surprise him a little that the bridge was an actual rainbow.

THE END