Insatiable and Unshakable

She folded the black parasol and sheathed it in the luggage to look at the horizon’s peach colors while the darkness cascaded over the desert. Her index finger and thumb plucked up her black halter dress at the knee, letting her feet meet the warm ground. As a token of thanks, she took off her black Spanish hat and placed it upon the burro and gave it the bucket of cool water. Her long wavy brown hair was shaken up to glide in the wind and out of her bronze face. The flames flickered and glittered in her olive eyes, along with the lunar reflection, beaming rage at her captor. Slowly, she moved to the rock by the campfire to the shovel’s rhythm.

Gunpowder residue emanated from the shallow hole the man was in. His rifle and dragoon laid to the sides of the hole. He let his hat get buried by the unearthed soil. The dirt covered man rose from the hole after five minutes of digging and dragged his right foot behind him as he limped to meet her, using the shovel as a crutch. He sat on the ground, left knee up before the flames. His white trousers were ripped apart like his tan shirt. He raised a malt to himself using his left arm and leaned on the shovel with his right. Blood oozed from his abdomen and flowed down his punctured leg, filling his black boot with more things to rot his foot. His brow was equally caked in dirt and sweat as his cheeks were in boneblack. His red ascot was drenched with the sweat of excitement, rage, and labor he had put forward.

He sat exhaling, “Just put me in the dirt after the Lord takes me. I did the work already.”

“Work?”

“Digging the hole.”

“Which one?”

He smiled and looked up at the harvest moon. “There’s only one here…”

“You dug a hole in my husband’s chest, your own, and here in the desert.” her thick accented words cut through him swifter than the previous suitor’s bullet.

The gunfighter dry spit into the fire. “He wasn’t any good.”

“You killed him because he failed your tests, and not mine?”

“I was angry they would treat you like a child’s doll instead of giving you what you deserve.”

“An empire of dirt?” she waved to present the sparse scattering of sun-bleached bones of bulls, antelope, and men were the only decorations along the flat, hot, desert.

He was unphased by this like the last bullet that hit him. “Comes with a gun, donkey, and your husband’s will.”

The shouting and shooting from hours prior was preferable to her after hearing his proposal.

“Several other assets too, as I’m sure you know. You even got halfway to the oldest town in Texas,” he continued, drawing a cigarillo from his bloodied pocket.

“You think it was the money,” blood rushed to her cheeks.

“I had the money, but you walked,” he lit up.

“It’s not yours give.”

“I earned their money. I want to invest it in you.”

“That’s not why you did that.”

“I could say other reasons, but you know why I did it.”

Her pupils shrank, “I warned you this would happen and you still did it.”

“You knew I needed to.”

“You never needed to.”

“I said, ‘You have my gun,’ and meant it.”

“I didn’t want a gun. I needed a life I didn’t hate,” her voice shook slightly. "He understood that."

“You were walking into a life you would detest.”

“A life with you is worse.”

“He would have trapped you in a house, like a doll only he can play with.”

“That man was everything to me. He made me happy. He did everything to make life wonderful.”

“He was a coward and liar.”

“You never met him once!"

"I didn't need to. He hid behind body guards while flaunting you like a boy."

"He was the most respectable man I met. If you were honorable, you would have let me go with him.”

“Honor and respect are much different,” he lit up, “You saw it.”

"Of course they're different! What are you even saying?"

"If he had honor, he'd face me personally in the street. If he had respect, he'd know how to treat you."

“You don’t understand either of those things.”

“I respect and honor you, don’t I?”

“You only have that for trophies.”

“Then you’re one hell of a trophy.”

Her fist balled up. “How dare you?!”

“I did.”

“You had no reason to do that.”

“I had to.”

“No, you didn’t!!!” she leaned forward furious throwing a small rock at him. It thudded on his chest, and he violently coughed up blood and tobacco.

“I assure you I did,” he said in between coughs. “You have the world in your lap, like a gypsy has a crystal ball and then some.”

Her hands stopped shaking. “Had.”

The man slouched, coughing. “He was about to take it from you. I can't allow a man like that to weigh you down. You know I would have treated you better. Still do.”

“You shot that world down because you were angry at me.”

“If I was that angry at you, I would have shot you instead and took myself out too.”

“Why didn’t you? It’s clear that’s why you did all this.”

“Because you deserved a better world than that. We both do.”

“I deserved a better world than a cattle ranch that might have a gold mine?!”

“That world was too small for you. I made you a bigger one by doing what I did.”

“You’re just making the world worse. I told you we were through.”

“Why do you try to run from me, anyway?”

“You shoot three men out of cold blood and ask me why?!”

“You act as if he was unarmed when he was more than willing to take up a gun and shoot anyone who threatened him.”

“You’re describing yourself.”

His blue eyes met hers. “How’s that?”

“The only solution you have is to shoot it. That’s how you made a living.”

“He was a thief using different names. My trade is creative destruction.”

“What you do is called murder.”

He took a drag and puffed it over the fire, “He thought he was invincible. I answered his challenge.”

“What challenge?”

“Why else would he have his gun everywhere he went?”

“Because of men like you,” tears rolled down her face, “Who think wearing a gun is enough to shoot another man. All because you’re scared.”

“I wasn’t scared of some scalper that got lucky. I never was.”

“You shot him while he was sitting down.”

“He was foolish enough to challenge the world and put you up as the trophy.”

“And what does that make you?”

“You’re more than a prize. You’re everything. Saying he would fight and die for you when he never shot a gun in his life is an insult to any man.”

“Would you kill me if I insulted you, too?”

“Never would do that to you,” He took another drag. “You think I’d keep you around just to ruin everything?”

“Ruin!?” she blew air out reflexively. “Everything is ruined!”

“Not exactly. After six long years, we both have what we deserve, finally.”

Her heel grinded into the ground. “You deserved getting shot a while ago.”

“I’ve been shot only once before this.”

“Now you want me to bury you and feel sorry for you?”

“Burying me is the only thing I want from you now, then you can find another run-and-gun. I doubt he could do the same as I did for you.”

“How many times do I need to tell you that’s not what I want! I hate the idea of even looking at a dead body and you pick them apart like a vulture,” her rant was quick with many staccato syllables.

“You hate what I did?”

“What makes you think I’d like it?!”

“When we were in El Paso, you were about to make a similar mistake.”

“A mistake?”

“A banker came to you thinking he had the world for you.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“He started getting lecherous and was ready to abandon his fat, ugly wife.”

“I said no to him, and you still shot him.”

“Because he felt the need to answer.”

“He was reaching for his purse.”

“And what else was there, Ophelia?”

“Your reason to shoot a man.”

”You’re the only reason I shoot.”

Her lips tingled and eyebrows rose. “Pardon?”

“I only shoot for you.”

“Am I supposed to be flattered by your craziness?”

“They do the looking. I shot them down.”

“Do you hear yourself?”

“I only concerned myself with how they would want to give you less than what you truly need.”

“You think I would settle for a murderer for hire or game?”

“You don’t settle for anything, obviously. But your husband wanted you to.”

“What kind of lie is that?”

“I heard your husband was ready to make for California and put you as an afterthought. That’s all I needed to hear to make him regret his words.”

“You’d never understand why people want a quiet life.”

“There’s more dignity in a loud one,” he let the cigarillo drop from his mouth. “The Lord knows that.”

“And what would you have promised me?”

“You would have what you want and the lie too.”

“And what was that?”

“You now have a place in Nacogdoches, with more than enough to keep yourself out of a cantina for the rest of your life. Now you also have a ranch in California as you said and me in a grave.”

“You were looking for reasons to buy my love.”

“Isn’t that what the rest of them did?”

“…you’re an animal.”

“It’s as I said, you deserve nothing less. I intended to prove it.”

“Prove that you’re crazy?”

“Only for you.”

She slumped over recounting the days he was there for her. The many times he was there on time. The several times both good and bad men sought her audience. He was unshakably hers, no matter what the situation. Desired or not. Peace was upon her. “I never wanted any of this... I just wanted to go home.”

“Now you have it all and a way back, don’t you?”

“NO!”

“But I knew one other thing about you.”

“No, you don’t know anything.”

“You wanted me in the dirt too, don’t you?”

She fell silent.

The gunfighter propped himself up with the shovel. “That’s what this is for…”

“What happens if I don’t?”

“It would be out of order of things with the other twenty-one men,” his bloody smile stretched “Of course, I’m willing to find out. That could be fun.”

Her shoulders sank down and she looked back up at him. “Please… I just want you to leave me be. That’s all I want from you now.”

“Then be sure to bury me and take what you need.”

She stared at him for a minute, looking over the flames as they got lower. “What did I do to deserve any of this?!”

“You ask why I’d give you everything I ever had to my name, flesh and soul?”

“You didn’t need to.”

“But you asked why?”

She held up her forehead and nodded. “Just tell me.”

“Be the finest woman to exist, without question, and deserve nothing but the best that the world can offer you.”

“That was my quinceañera…”

The gunman tried to raise himself up using the shovel but couldn’t. “And you agree still, don’t you?”

“…not like this.”

He sat and looked her over. “And you got what you deserved.” A withered voice made a chuckle. “You even got the lies too, but you deserve so much more.” The gunman coughed blood up for the very last time. She looked at him as his spirit left him. She got up from her seat at the fire, took his shovel from him, and dragged his husk to the plot.

She stopped midway and fell to her knees, holding her fair face. “…yes. I do.”