“Felt bad ’bout them women,” Pike said. “Sorta felt a little responsible, I suppose.”
“Sure,” Virgil said.
“Last break I ever gave anybody,” Pike said. “And that was one too many.”
“Thank you, Pike,” Virgil said. “I’ll sleep better.”
“Sure thing,” Pike said.
“You expecting trouble with Percival?” Virgil said.
“Nothing we can’t handle,” Pike said.
“But you’re expecting some.”
“Percival’s crazy,” Pike said. “I won’t let him close me down.”
“Hey, Everett,” Virgil said. “What’s that thing where you attack first to stop somebody from attacking you.”
“Preemptive strike,” I said.
“You ain’t thinking ’bout any preemptive strikes,” Virgil said.
“He tries to close me down,” Pike said. “And I’ll do what’s needed.”
“Probably can’t prevent the trouble,” Virgil said. “But I’d like to contain it.”
“How you gonna contain it?” Pike said.
“Just don’t do more than is needed,” Virgil said.
“Who’s going to decide that?” Pike said.
“That would be me,” Virgil said. “And Everett.”
58
“WORKED A TOWN in Oklahoma once,” Virgil said as we walked along Arrow Street toward The Church of the Brotherhood. “Had one of them Indian schools. Everybody working their ass off to teach these kids to be what they weren’t.”
“Buffalo Calf wasn’t a quitter,” I said. “Musta taken him ten years to find Pike.”
“Yep.”
“Then he wanted to stretch it out,” I said. “So it wouldn’t be over too quick.”
“All he had,” Virgil said.
He paused and looked at a dress hanging in the window of a shop.
“You a pretty smart fella, Everett.”
“Sure,” I said.
“Went to the Academy and all.”
“Yep.”
“Think she’ll ever change?” he said.
I knew he meant Allie.
“Folks generally don’t,” I said.
“No,” Virgil said.
He kept looking at the dress.
“You?” I said.
“Change?” he said. “ ’Bout Allie?”
“Yep.”
“Maybe,” he said. “This time I think I could haze her off.”
“But,” I said.
“Got that girl to take care of.”
“There’s other women in the world,” I said.
“Not right at the moment,” Virgil said.
“You love Allie?” I said.
“I might.”
“And maybe Laurel’s a good excuse,” I said.
“Maybe,” Virgil said.
He turned from the window and looked at me. “And maybe I’m glad I got an excuse,” he said. “Either way, we gonna keep her for now.”
“Take care of Laurel,” I said.
“Yes.”
I nodded.
“Wasn’t planning on no daughter,” I said.
“Nope.”
We walked on toward the church. It was a warm day, with some wind that kicked up the dust in the street in little swirls and bothered the parasols that some of the ladies carried.
“Laurel might change her,” Virgil said.
“Maybe,” I said.
“I think she will,” Virgil said.
I didn’t say anything.
“I’ll only say this to you, Everett,” Virgil said. “ ’Cause I don’t mind so much looking like a fool to you. But I believe her this time.”
“And them other men?” I said.
“Got nothing to do with me,” Virgil said.
I nodded. We walked on. We could see The Church of the Brotherhood ahead of us. There were several deacons standing around outside wearing Colts.
“ ’ Less it keeps happening,” Virgil said. “Can’t take that no more.”
“Good,” I said.
Virgil nodded and stopped outside the church.
“Howdy, boys,” he said. “We come to see Brother Percival.”
59
WE SAT WITH PERCIVAL IN A PEW near the back of the church.
“I’ve not seen Allie lately,” Percival said. “Is she well?”
“She’s busy with Laurel Ostermueller,” Virgil said.
“Ah, yes, how tragic, the abduction, then her mother killing herself.”
“You fucking them,” Virgil said.
“If you came to be abusive,” Percival said, “then this conversation is over.”
“Believe you fucked Allie some, too.”
Percival rose to his feet.
“You’re appalling,” he said to Virgil.
“I am, for a fact,” Virgil said. “You got any plans to close Pike down?”
It was moving a little fast for Brother Percival. He shook his head slightly as if to clear it.
“Pike?” he said.
“Yeah. You planning on running him out like you done all the other saloon owners?” Virgil said.
“ ‘ Saloon owners,’ ” Percival said. “You say it as if it were ordinary. Every one of the sins that accumulated in those hell-holes that I closed has re-formed and erupted in Pike’s Palace. It is the ultimate cesspool of corruption, and it is poisoning the town.”
“That sound like yes to you, Everett?” Virgil said.
“Seems so to me,” I said.
“You think Pike gonna let you close him down?” Virgil said.
“An armed and muscular Christianity cannot be defeated,” Percival answered.
He always sounded to me like he was recycling his own sermons, which he probably was.
“I wouldn’t count too much on Choctaw,” Virgil said.
“I rely on my Father in heaven,” Percival said.
“Probably better than Choctaw,” Virgil said.
Percival looked down at us with contempt, dirtied as we were with mortality.
“Is there a purpose to this visit?” Percival said.
“Ain’t planning to prevent you doing what you going to do,” Virgil said. “Nor Pike from answering you back. You both got the right. But these things have a way of spillin’ over, and I don’t want that to happen.”
“What you want, Deputy,” Percival said, “what either of you wants, doesn’t matter, I am not governed by you and your laws. My allegiance is to a far greater power, and what He and I will do is not open to debate.”
“Well, Brother P.,” Virgil said. “What me and Everett want matters to us, and when it matters enough, we are pretty good at making it matter to other people. I want you to keep this thing between you and Pike between you and Pike.”
Percival stared down at Virgil without speaking.
“And,” Virgil said, “if things get outta hand, I’m gonna shoot you. Everett might shoot you, too.”
Percival continued to stare down at us. Then without a word he turned and stormed away down the center aisle of the church. Virgil and I watched him go.
“Think we scared him?” I said.
“ ’Fraid not,” Virgil said.
“Him or the Heavenly Father,” I said.
“Neither,” Virgil said.
60
IT WAS LIKE A SUMMER STORM approaching. The atmosphere tightened; I could feel the tension crackling. There was no thunder yet, or lightning, but I could feel it lurking. I knew it was coming. So did everyone else. There were more men with guns standing around. There were fewer people on the streets. The people who were on the streets walked faster. The dogs seemed to slink a little. The horses seemed edgy. Everyone seemed somehow wound a little tighter. Except Virgil. As always, he remained entirely Virgil Cole, regardless of what was going on around him.
“Gonna be one hell a deluge,” I said, as we walked in the evening back to Allie’s house.
“Deluge?” Virgil said. “Like rain?”
“Just thinking out loud,” I said.
Virgil shook his head.
“You’re kinda strange sometimes, Everett,” Virgil said.
“Yeah,” I said. “I know.”
Pony was sitting in a rocker on Allie’s front porch with a Winchester in his lap. Laurel sat on a straight chair next to him.
“Where’s Allie?” Virgil said.
“Cook supper,” Pony said.
“Uh-oh,” Virgil said.
Pony shrugged.
“We’ll be here for a while,” I said to Pony, “you want to go up to Pike’s or whatever.”