Chapter 10: Friends

Harley opened the door to their room and stopped. He stared at the two men who sat side by side on the edge of the bed. All of the Durans' few personal possessions had been piled in the middle of the bed. The larger of the two gave them a wolfish grin and held his hand out, palm up. "Okay, we found some of the cash here, where's the rest?"

Harley felt his heartbeat pound in his head. He ordered his wife, "Stay out here." He advanced on the sitting duo and said in a very soft voice, "Mister, if y'all don't come up with a dam' fine and believable excuse for your bad manners, you are in deep shit."

"Listen to this hayseed, Homer," the bigger of the two said, "He can't talk so civilized white men can hardly understand him and he wants us to take him serious? Just come up with the rest of the money, rube and we'll be on our way. If you don't cough it up, we'll take it out of your woman there, a piece at a time." He stood and kept the hand outstretched toward Harley.

The smaller of the two, Homer, sniggered at his companion's posturing. "I figure you'll maybe save some of the woman for me, won't you, Edgar?"

Enraged, Harley grabbed the hand and squeezed as hard as he could. The bones in the outstretched hand were crushed as Harley squeezed and twisted with all his strength. He twisted the injured hand and the man screamed.

Harley kicked hard once and broke the man's knee. As Edgar fell, his partner stood and tried to grab the automatic in his hip pocket. Before the gun was pulled free, Harley grabbed him in a bear hug and squeezed hard as he could. Ribs collapsed and the man passed out and dropped to the floor unconscious.

After Harley let him go, he removed the forty-five Colt automatic US Army model 1910 and stuck it in his own hip pocket. Wordless, he turned to the other and searched him.

Harley brought a roll of bills out of the man's right front pocket and another out of his left.

The man had a thirty-two Colt revolver in his hip pocket. Harley handed it to a dumbfounded Ida Marie, still frozen in her tracks. "Here, Hon, you might want to learn how to shoot this.

He bent over and extracted a wallet from the other hip pocket. It contained a badge with "Santa Fe" was stamped across the face. "Jesus Christ, ever' dam' fool with no brains an' a big mouth got a badge." he mumbled to himself. He found another sheaf of bills, mostly hundreds in the wallet. Harley handed the money to his shaken wife. Then he stooped and grabbed one railroad man by the belt and the other by the collar. The shirt ripped and left Harley with only a collar in his hand.

He shifted his stance and grabbed the man by his belt and stood, He half dragged, half carried the two unconscious men out of the hotel. A charcoal gray four-door Dodge sedan pulled up and two uniformed police got out. Harley changed course slightly and deposited his load in front of the policemen.

"You kin have these two ass holes or not. But here they be." He stood up straight. "The big one threatened my wife. The little one pulled a gun. You want them?"

The policeman with corporal's stripes on his arm asked, "You Duran, the new Marshal?" Harley nodded. "Well these two are railroad detectives. You just can't go around beating up on railroad detectives. It just isn't done."

"Yes it is," Harley argued.

"No it isn't." the cop argued.

"Wall damn it, it sure is too done, cause I just done it." he shot back at him.

"I'll tell you right now this here two weren't on no railroad business, no way at all. They was trying to rob me. I ain't going to let nobody rob me. I don't care if they is railroad law or not. Anybody messes with me is going to get hurt. Now I mean jest like I was swearing on a stack of bibles. Ye hear me?"

"Mister, we both hear you and from what I seen, we both believe you. But what if the railroad don't hear you?"

"Well, it's gonna be their tough luck." the big man growled.

"Mister, from what I've heard and what I've seen, I believe you. My friend here does too." The other cop nodded and grinned nervously.

"You want 'em?" Harley asked.

"Not unless you want to try and press some charges against them," the corporal answered.

"Nope, they just get out an' do more trouble for folks." The two cops got back in their car and drove off.

Then he noticed a tall, skinny fellow watching things in slack jawed amazement. He got another idea. "Hey you, you want to make five dollars?"

"I don't know, what y'all have in mind? I don't hurt people."

"Well, I don't neither, less I have to," Harley answered. "All I want to do is load these two clowns up an' take them over to the train station. They is railroad property so I'm jus' going to return them." He smiled a thin, mean smile that had no humor in it at all. "What they call you?"

"Oh, I'm Leroy Jones. I work out at the bridge project outside of town. You need any he'p, er, help loading them, those guys in the back of m' truck?

"Naw, I can manage. Harley showed no strain, as he grabbed one and tossed him in and then the other. Leroy's eyes widened at the unconscious display of strength.

"You know where the station is?" Harley asked.

"Why of course." Leroy answered and thrust out his chest. "I drive there almost every day to pick up stuff for the bridge job. I got me a real responsible job driving, an' Milt, he's the boss, relies on me." He paused and then added, "That's three."

Harley looked at him questioningly, "Three what, he asked.

Leroy grinned self consciously, "Oh, I taken this here mail order course to he'p uh, no, help me to learn to speak like a real gent 'stead o' like some country hayseed. People notice the way you talk." He smiled a shy smile, "I want to be better'n I am. So I'm taking the course and paid cash money for it, too."

Harley got in the truck and Leroy did likewise. He started the engine before he was settled in comfortably. The old truck engine caught and began clatter, as it ran. "This ain't really mine, but the company lets me drive it home an' I keep it running good and looking nice, too. I take pride in my work.

All the talk about self-improvement struck a chord in Harley's breast. As they drove toward the railroad station, he asked, "Are you married?"

"Yup, I shore am. I got me a wife and a baby girl and she's just starting to learn how to walk. It's why I'm tryin' to, damnation ... trying to learn how to be more than I am. A man with responsibilities has got to learn things."

"I got the same trouble," Harley confided in him, "I got me a wife an' a little girl an' I'm dumber than snake turds. I been talking to the preacher to help me learn how to act like a city feller. I don't like to have people make fun of me or mine. I'm going to learn. Not 'larn' but learn." See, I been lar ... learnin' ... learning me a word, too.

As they pulled up to the station, the truck stopped and Leroy got out and watched as Harley opened the tailgate and unceremoniously pulled one of the still bodies out of the truck and dragged it inside the station. He dropped it in front of the stationmaster. "I got one more out there, be right back." He dragged the second one in and dropped it in front of the stationmaster, too.

"These belong to the railroad. One tried to rob me and the other one tried to pull a gun on me and my wife. I don't take kindly to threats against my family. They need a doc to look at 'em. They got railroad badges, so you do what you want to do with them. Oh, you got a telegraph wire for Lute Halverson?

"You Mister Halverson?"

"Naw, I'm just finishing up some business for him. He's moving on down the line."

"Well, I do have this," he held up a sheaf of papers. "They all came down from Oklahoma City. It seems Mister Halverson got himself in big trouble. He stole from the railroad." The man had as much awe in his voice as if Halverson had been accused of robbing widows and nuns.

"Gimme," Harley said and took the papers from the man. The first one stated Halverson had been fired. The next one was a threat to have the man arrested if he didn't return the money he and his two accomplices stole, a matter of seven thousand dollars. The next one was from someone named Lyle Bedecker who said he washed his hands of Halverson completely, that he was on his own. The last was a Telegraph warrant requesting any law enforcement officer to apprehend Halverson or his two cohorts.

"Well, what do you know about that?. If this don't beat all." He grinned at the railroad employee, "You want to be a hero?"

"Well, not if its dangerous." the man replied.

"Oh, its not, not dangerous in the least." Harley showed him the telegraph warrant.

"These are Halverson's two pals. See here? You just get on the telegraph and have a railroad dick from up the' line somewhere come get 'em. If you want, tie their legs together. But I broke the one's knee and you might make him screech some if you do it after he wakes up."

"Why don't you arrest them?" the man asked.

Harley thought fast, "Well, mainly because I can't get no reward since I'm already city marshal. And we'd have to take care of 'em till they could stand trial. This way, you get any reward, look good to the railroad and everybody's happy except them two turds."

"Hey by golly. This is great. They'll notice me now. Thanks, mister."

Harley turned and left a happy stationmaster looking at his back. Leroy watched and listened. This man was bigger than that boxer, Jack Sharkey who just got knocked out by some wop named Primo Carnera. This guy just ain't got no quit in him. I sure ain't going to git no, get on this guy's bad side. Nope, nope, not me. He thought to himself.

Harley took a five-dollar bill off of one of the big rolls in his pocket and handed it to the bemused Leroy. "I appreciate yur uh your help."

In silence, Leroy nodded his thanks and accepted the bill. He tucked it into his shirt pocket. "Well I guess, 'lessen y'all got more bodies to deliver, we might just head back on over to the hotel. I don't mean to hurry you, but I got me a wife and baby girl I got to answer to."

Then, he carefully enunciated each word, as he continued, "I am a man with responsibilities.' This last sentence, Leroy had been practicing hard to say in a proper manner. Leroy wanted to sound like a "real smart man" and not like some swamp rat red neck know nothing.

His efforts had already begun to pay off. This big man treated him with real respect, not just the tolerance he mostly got from others. Leroy never knew just how hungry he was for the respect of his fellow man until he began to receive it in small quantities.

Harley sat back in the seat, his mind was on other things as they pulled away from the station. "Look, me and you, we got something in common, trying to learn an all. We're buying a house and we got to settle the deal tomorrow. Why don't you bring your wife an' baby over Sunday afternoon?"

He gave Leroy a shy look. "We're buying the old house out on the edge of town on the road that leads to the bridge job. We'll be in church Sunday morning and we ought to get home about by about one or two. So if you all got nothing better to do, you're shore welcome over to our house.

The invitation startled Leroy. He looked at the big man to see if this was some sort of joke. Harley sat there, waiting for an answer. He had never invited another into his house, family to family. He wasn't certain he had gone about it in the right way.

"Harley, I kin tell you right now, my Cassie Jean and me would be honored to come over Sunday. I thank you for the invite. I know your house real well. Its the one I see ever day when I'm headed to work. We'll get there 'bout two, if its okay with you."

"Okay, we'll see you then." Then Harley had an idea, "We are going to church Sunday. You all want to attend services with us?"

"Uh. You sure they won't mind? I mean some of them folks are pretty high toned." Leroy equated whatever happened in church with secret rites and rich people who were better than him. Leroy had never been inside a church in his life. "I don't know if we'd even fit in." He looked very doubtful.

"Oh hell, I wouldn't worry none about it," Harley answered. "I have a hunch Brother Moore will be just as pleased as punch to see you." He smiled at the skinny man.

They had pulled up in front of the hotel and stopped. Harley got out and carefully shut the door behind him. "Want to meet at our house about eight Sunday morning and have a cup of coffee before going in to church?" Leroy nodded and his eyes widened and a big grin came over his face.

Harley smiled and nodded once and headed into the hotel. When Leroy drove off, his mind was in a daze. He was eager to tell Cassie about their new friends.

Harley walked in the entrance and nodded to the old man behind the desk. "Mister Duran, sir." he called to Harley. "I got a message for you. its from the chief of police. He says to tell you to come over to his office. He wants to interview you for the marshal's job."

"Does he sign the pay checks?" Harley asked.

"Well, no. The city treasurer does," the desk clerk answered nervously.

"Well then you tell the chief of police the job has been filled and I'll get around to him tomorrow. I'm going to bed and take a nap.

"Oh I can't deliver such a message to the chief of police. He might get mad.

"You ever seen the police chief get mad?" Harley asked, as he paused on his way back to his wife and child.

"Well, yes, he can be a most disagreeable man when he gets mad."

"And then you seen me get mad. Which one of us gets the maddest?"

"Oh you do, Mr. Duran. In fact you get madder than any person I have ever seen." Then a light seemed to go on, as his face lit up with understanding. "I'll take your message to the chief right away, sir."

Harley nodded and went to his waiting family. Ida Marie met him at the door. "Is everything okay, Hon? They wasn't no trouble?"

"Naw," he answered her, "Me and Leroy dropped them off with the railroad man at the station an' I come home." He paused and then remembered, "Hon, me an' you got a couple of folks coming over Sunday to our new house. His name is Leroy Jones. I hope you don't mind.

"Harley, only you'd invite a nigger into our own home as our first guests. Oh, I don' mind much, but some other folks might think it strange. You know, they jus' don't invite niggers home with you in this country. Its just asking for trouble."

"Naw, Hon, he just got a name like one. He's a white man."

"Okay then, Harley, Y'all know I ain't got nothing 'against them, but I don' know about inviting them in to our house. We got a daughter we got to think about.

"Well, some is nice an' some is not, bout like white folk. Ida Marie, just what in hell we all getting all upset about, he ain't none and they ain't none coming." He looked at his wife with mild exasperation.

"Aw, your'e right, as usual, Harley." She looked up at him admiringly and added, "I like being married to the nicest, strongest man I ever met. An' you're pretty durn smart, too."

"I allow as how I'm real nice and stronger than most old mules, but I sure as hell ain't smart. I feel like I'm a bastard child at a family reunion when I hear them city people talk. They know so much more than me. But, by God, I'm going to larn ... learn. We're gonna be somebody, I promise you." Fierce determination shone through his whole being.