OOM: Bisbee

[lasthalfmile]

Sleeping on the ground is an experience in itself that Dan finds he's missed. The stiffness in his neck, the chill in his bones, the fine layer of dust and ash that ends up covering his clothes and bare skin is all proof that he's actually here, in the flesh.

So to speak.

The desert is quiet at sunrise, and Dan's already up. The horses are fed and the fire is stoked just enough to last them an hour or two while they get ready. Once Ben is up, it doesn't take long for him to eat and pack up their things, saddle up the horses.

"Don't think it'll be quite as hot today."

Plus, Bisbee is up in a canyon, almost a mile high. The air is cooler up there so the sweat shouldn't be quite so bad, especially with the early start to cover the last bit of distance before they make it into town. After last night's conversation, Dan finds himself thinking about this entire trip.

He's actually going to his own funeral.

He's quieter than he was yesterday, as they get ready to head out.

Comments

[almosthonorable]

Ben swings into his saddle, eyeing the sun rising red in the lightening sky.

"Damn good thing. Can't pay proper respects with sunstroke."

[lasthalfmile]

"And I'd rather not cause a stir by passin' out."

That is so not what Dan wants to try and explain when he comes to.

He hauls himself up into his saddle and settles the reins into his hands, fixes his hat, and checks the gun at his hip before he nods to Ben to head on.

[almosthonorable]

"Still be pretty inconspicuous."

A beat as he nudges his horse into a walk.

"Could just pass you off as a twelve-year-old."

[lasthalfmile]

"I don't look much like you." Dan quips. "Besides, think startin' your new gang off at twelve's a little young, don't you think so?"

That makes him think of William.

"You ever been to Dodge City?"

Dan shoves that out of his head, quickly.

[almosthonorable]

"Never too young for education."

Smirk.

"Hell, I've been on my own since I was just a pup, and look how I turned out."

[lasthalfmile]

Dan pretends to study Ben.

"Right, right. Shining example of morality and someone we should all look up to."

At least people don't burn down his barns.

[almosthonorable]

"I keep tryin' to tell you, folks like me for a reason."

With gentle pressure from Ben's legs, his horse picks up into a trot.

"Think it's 'cause I ain't holier-than-thou 'bout my divine nature."

[lasthalfmile]

"People like you because they respect you."

Dan nudges his mare to follow suit with the pace Ben's setting.

"And because they've got two options. Either they like you, or they don't. And if they don't, well, you don't take too kindly to that."

[almosthonorable]

Respect, fear.

Two sides of the same obedient coin.

No, I surely don't take too kindly to that.

Ben's lips twitch, but he holds his tongue for a long minute.

"Respect's a funny thing. Makes people do funny things."

One beat, then another.

"Even make a wanted man jump on a prison train."

[lasthalfmile]

That gets Ben a look from Dan.

(What his eyes say isn't quite clear.)

There aren't any words.

You did it, Pa. You got him on the train.

Dan holds his eyes for a heartbeat.

Then looks ahead on the trail.

[almosthonorable]

Nothing to say; it's already been said.

Maybe it's enough.

Even if it's not, Ben's content to sway in the saddle, scan the horizon.

Keeping an eye out for unwanted company.

[lasthalfmile]

There isn't any. It's a welcome sight.

When they crest a ridge, Dan spots buildings in the distance.

Wood and clapboard, a dusty trail heading into town.

Bisbee.

There's a church there, up on the outskirts, near the canyon. Dan turns his head and scans the horizon, looking at the lay of the land, towards his ranch.

The ground is dry.

"Ain't been rainin' much."

[almosthonorable]

Bisbee.

Ben follows Dan's sight line, then squints at the weathered white steeple just visible from here.

"Nope," he drawls. "All the better for grave-diggin'."

(Something his daddy used to say, sometimes, during droughts.)

But that won't help Dan's ranch.

[lasthalfmile]

Dan nods.

"Dust to dust."

The steeple is white, sure, but everything about the town is coated in a thin layer of reddish-tan earth.

Everything looks awful nice -- from a distance.

It takes longer than Dan thinks it should to ride into town.

(He wonders if he's forgotten how long it takes to travel anything further than a half mile.)

[almosthonorable]

In sure and certain hope of the Resurrection into eternal life.

Dan's current state may not be the eternal life Ben envisioned, but it's more time afforded to the rancher.

Ben keeps his head slanted just enough to be unassuming as they approach.

Won't do any good to cause a stir before the funeral.

That's reserved for after, when they have a nice talk with Butterfield.

[lasthalfmile]

There's a chill down his spine when the single bell in that white steeple rings out over the small town. People looking around pause and a few murmur to themselves.

Dan, to his credit, is the first of the two of them off his horse when they reach that church.

His hands take careful care to tie the knot of the reins to the rail.

They're not shaking.

Yet, anyway.

He keeps his head down, and eyes down too.

[almosthonorable]

Head down but eyes sharp, he surveys Dan — steady, that's good — and evaluates the throng.

Nobody appears to be watching them.

Yet.

Gonna have to take off his hat for the service, though.

[lasthalfmile]

He won't get weak at the knees. Dan's not one to fall down.

A glance at Ben, as people start to file in, then he nods.

As they make their way up the steps, Dan is suddenly grateful for the fact that he 'looks like he's twelve' when he pulls off his hat before stepping inside.

Dust filters in the air through the windows, light hitting --

-- Alice.

[almosthonorable]

His eyes fall on her a heartbeat after Dan freezes.

Alice.

She hasn't seen them. Not yet.

Ben removes his hat, half-hoping she won't.

Half-hoping she will.

[lasthalfmile]

Keep moving.

He told himself that the entire way to the station. They had to keep moving or he was going to end up six feet under and full of lead. He kept moving.

And now they're at his funeral.

Dan moves to an empty row and sits behind Alice, where she'd have to turn near clear around to see him. He doubts she will. Her eyes are focused on something else.

That pine box in the front of the chapel.

[almosthonorable]

For a rancher, Dan's a hell of a tactician. Must've got something out of that short stint fighting for the North.

Ben settles in the pew, resting his hat on his knee, and eyes the coffin up front.

Dan's coffin.

Quietly, "Like I said, chance of a lifetime."

[lasthalfmile]

"Fuckin' surreal," Dan mutters, just low enough that way only Ben can hear. "That's what this is."

The boys are sitting next to Alice. William on one side, Mark on the other.

He swallows quietly, mouth feeling dry.

Dust filters across the light.

Is...he in that box? How the hell is this even possible? Why the hell did he think it was a good idea? What's the preacher going to talk about? Who are half these people in this room? Since when did Mark look so small?

(It's a good thing Dan doesn't need to breathe to survive, because he might have stopped.)

[almosthonorable]

"Think you're right about that."

He's studying William's shoulders, so stiff, broader than Ben remembers from just two days ago.

Head of the household now.

His eyes slide to Alice, and he's a little surprised to see that her posture is even more rigid than William's.

She's a fine woman, and those're two fine boys beside her. They didn't deserve this.

This.

Bad timing and four bullets.

He studies the wood box again.

Might not be fair, but it is what it is.

[lasthalfmile]

They can't change the past.

They're here today to bury the body of Daniel Evans, the preacher begins to speak. A husband to his wife. A father to his sons. A soldier to his country. A hero to the town of Bisbee, and to a good part of the territory. The story made the papers.

(So did the story of Ben Wade's escape from Yuma prison, just a few days later.)

Dan listens while the man speaks, but his eyes aren't on him. Or the coffin. Or Alice and his boys. His eyes are focused on the dust floating across the beam of light from the window, the way it sparkles in the sun as it falls.

Outside the church, a short distance up the hill, a man leans hard on a shovel and wipes the sweat from his brow, swipes at the dust on his pants, and eyes the six foot hole he's just finished digging.

The preacher talks, awhile, then asks if anyone has anything they'd like to say.

[almosthonorable]

Ben stands slowly, deliberately, hat in one hand.

"Dan Evans — "

And he's aware of the eyes on him now, but they're on him, the infamous (famous, he reminds himself) Ben Wade, cutthroat outlaw. Not on Dan, still sitting in the pew.

" ... well. Man wasn't stubborn."

His lips twitch.

"Had a good heart, tried to take care of his family. Right up 'til he died gettin' me on the 3:10 to Yuma."

He keeps his eyes trained on the wood box. He can't look down at Alice or William or Mark, though he knows they're looking at him.

"Didn't die 'cause he was stubborn. Died 'cause he was willin' to do whatever it took to take care of the people he loved. And that is what y'all should remember 'bout him."

A pause.

"That, and he moved pretty damn fast for a man with one leg."

He keeps his feet, for the moment. Keeping all eyes on him and not the man next to him.

[lasthalfmile]

The moment Ben stands up is the moment Dan considers if turning himself invisible is one of the talents he's acquired since 'rising' from the dead and stepping out into the desert sun. At least, he wishes it was.

Every word Ben says hits home.

One shot. Two shots. Three. Four.

His eyes are up and looking at Alice, who is staring at Ben Wade like she's just seen a ghost (and possibly wants to shoot said ghost where he stands). William is just confused. And Mark...

"...Mister Wade?"

It comes out quiet, shaken, from a hoarse throat that sounds more like it should belong on an old man than a young child. The little boy has eyes as wide as saucers, staring up at him, before he turns to Alice and gives her a confused look, that seems to say 'why is he here?' without saying a word.

[almosthonorable]

Ben looks down at the small, uncertain voice, and gives Mark a smile that's shaded with something that might be regret if he weren't such a bastard.

Infamous. Famous.

"Howdy, son."

[lasthalfmile]

"Din't think you'd be here."

Alice is giving Ben a glare that could cut iron without hesitation as she stands from her seat and puts a hand on Mark's shoulder. "That's because Mister Wade was just leaving."

There's something else in her eyes.

It's not hate.

[almosthonorable]

Ben keeps his gaze steady on Mark as he speaks.

"I'm sorry 'bout your daddy."

Lifting his eyes to Alice's green ones (just like the sea), he doesn't say anything for a heartbeat.

Two.

Three.

Gently, "He was a good man."

Half a beat.

"Mrs. Evans."

[lasthalfmile]

Before Alice can speak up, Mark does instead.

"He ain't comin' home," he says. "And he said he was gonna, but William says he did good an' he says that you did good too, because you got on the train like you was supposed to do."

"Mark," his mother warns quietly.

"But then William says that we was supposed t'get money and we haven't yet --"

"Mark," and her tone is sharper this time, hiding the grief. "Please, be quiet. We need to let the Reverend finish." Once Mark has sat back down, she looks at Ben.

"You need to leave," she says quietly.

A beat.

"Please, Ben."

Dan curls his fingers into fists at his sides when Mark speaks, keeping quiet, and trying not to speak. He wants to speak. Wants to tell his boys that things will be alright. Wants to hold Alice again. Wants to...do so many things.

He can't.

They're burying him, today.

[almosthonorable]

There's a brief flash behind Ben's eyes when Mark mentions the money, though he's studying Alice the entire time.

Look at me. Not your husband.

"I'm goin' — just wanted to pay my respects."

Glancing down at Mark, "You listen, all right? Your daddy got me on that train. You remember that."

He looks back to Alice.

And smiles.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I got another appointment to keep."

With a short nod, he steps out of the pew, never letting his eyes slide to Dan lest that draws any attention, and strolls out of the church and toward the hitching post.

Chance of a lifetime.

He and Dan are going to make damn sure Butterfield pisses himself.

[lasthalfmile]

All eyes are on Ben as he walks out of that church.

Alice waits for the door to close behind him before she returns to her seat and sits down, and nods at the Reverend to continue. Dan slowly rises and turns his face towards the back of the room, to walk out.

He catches Mark's curious eyes.

His boy stares at him a second, but then Dan brings a finger to his lips to silence him, and he nods a little, before he turns and walks out.

Mark watches him go, before he turns around and looks back at that pine box in the front while the preacher begins to talk again.

Dan's boots barely echo on the floor as he walks outside, and the hat is easily replaced on his head as he makes his way down the few steps towards the hitching post and towards Ben.

They have another appointment to keep.