Wyatt was still walking from Elmer's house. He was beginning to get tired and was desperate for a break, no matter how short the break was. He continued going down the muddy pathway that he had been walking down for the past hour. "I gotta stop." He muttered as he sat down on top of a log. There was nobody around Wyatt, he was all alone at that log. He looked around which was hard as the sky was as dark as the mud, the only light for miles around was the moon. Wyatt then heard something, it sounded like a voice. It was a male voice and it was coming from behind him. "Hello?" Wyatt called out. "Is anyone there?"
The voice soon responded with, "Hi there. You need any help?" Wyatt jumped up from the log and looked behind him. There was a man on a horse looking right back at him. Wyatt approached him and spoke to him. "Can you get me to that town over there? I've been walkin' for too long and my feet are achin'." Wyatt explained. The man laughed and stroked his horse's mane. "Sure I can, get up here mister." Said the man. Wyatt then climbed onto the horse and wrapped the repeater's strap around his waist. "I'm Joseph Sterns, pleased to meet you." Said the man. Joseph seemed like a friendly man to Wyatt, almost two friendly. "What's your name, mister?" Asked Joseph. Wyatt didn't want to risk being identified, so he had to lie to the man to avoid being recognised. "I'm, Gordon Thompson." Said Wyatt.
"Nice to meet you, Gordon. I'm just takin' you to town?" Said Joseph.
"Yeah, yeah." Wyatt responded.
"So what are you doin' out here by yourself?"
"I'm just wandering, I got lost."
"You live in Oakwood?"
"Where?"
"This town, Oakwood? You live here?"
"No, no. I'm just visitin' there."
"Oh right, you got any family there?"
"No, I just felt like a change in scenery."
"Well, it doesn't get better then Oakwood. It's a nice peaceful town, kind people. I think there's a hotel and a bar."
"Just my kinda place I guess."
"You ain't wrong, Gordon. It's a great place."
If Wyatt was going to keep up with the name Gordon, he was going to have to get used to it. It felt weird to him, pretending to be someone else. But just as long as nobody found out who he was, he was fine.
"So, Gordon. What do you for a livin'? If you don't mind me askin'." Said Joseph.
"I'm an author…" Said Wyatt.
"Oh really? Anythin' I might have read?"
"Depends, ever read somethin' called Frankenstein?"
"I never read that one, I'll have to look for it."
The ride continued as the men spoke to each other. Wyatt had to be careful about what he told the man because if he ever found out that Wyatt was lying, then Wyatt would be in trouble. The two men rode closer to the town, pleasing Wyatt. He didn't want to speak to Joseph anymore in fear of being recognised. "I'll get off here." Said Wyatt. Joseph halted his horse and let Wyatt climb off. "Goodbye friend. Have a good night." Said Joseph. Wyatt waved as Joseph rode his away from him. Wyatt looked around before stumbling across a sign which read "Oakwood Town." Wyatt moved away from the sign after reading it and began to walk down a pathway which led to Oakwood.
As Wyatt moved through town, he couldn't help but notice a lot of the local citizens. They were mostly wearing suits and elegant dresses. Wyatt felt like uncomfortable, as he wore a not so flamboyant outfit. He wore a brown coat and ranch jeans and his boots had spurs on them. Everyone looked at him, making Wyatt nervous. Did this town have a bounty poster with his face on it? Wyatt looked around for a sheriff's office but couldn't seem to find one. All he saw were a few lawmen walking around.
Wyatt moved towards a bar to get a drink and maybe rent a room. As he walked in, he saw a woman approach him. "Hi there." She said seductively. Wyatt looked at her and laughed. "Sorry, I can't afford you." He told her. She gasped and stomped away towards the corner of the bar. Wyatt chuckled and moved towards the bartender. "I'll have a beer." Said Wyatt, pulling out money from his pocket. As the bartender gave Wyatt the beer and took the money he asked, "Anythin' else sir?" Wyatt looked at him and took a sip of beer. "I could use a room." He told the bartender. The bartender nodded and pointed towards some stairs. "They're just up there and to the left. That will be $2.00 please." Said the bartender. Wyatt gave him the two dollars and drank the rest of his beer. He placed the bottle on the side of the bar and began to walk over to the stairs. Suddenly a tall man in a ridiculous looking hat stopped Wyatt from going up to the room. "How dare you insult my lady!" Said the tall man. Wyatt rolled his eyes and tried to push past him but the man didn't budge. "Listen buddy." Said Wyatt. "I ain't interested in what you have to say, she shouldn't have come up to me and asked for a flop." The man's face grew red with anger. "She did no such thing." Said the tall man. Wyatt looked at the man's wife and then back at him. "Well, maybe she just has one of those faces that implied it." Said Wyatt. The man then threw a punch and hit Wyatt in the jaw. "I'll crush you!" He said. Wyatt looked up at the man who towered over him as he held out his hand and grabbed Wyatt's neck. "Let go!" Wyatt struggled. The man's tight grasp was killing Wyatt. The bartender intervened, "Stop with that!" The man wasn't listening, he was enraged. Wyatt tried to breathe but it was no use, Wyatt was dying. "Stop!" He begged. The man smiled evilly and laughed at him. "Not so tough now." He said. The man's grip got tighter and tighter.
Suddenly, there was a gunshot. The tall man screamed in pain and let go of Wyatt. The man fell to the floor as Wyatt breathed heavily. The man was holding his leg in pain as there was a huge gunshot wound which formed a red liquid that ran down his leg. A sheriff stood at the door with a gun in his hand, smoke coming from the barrel. "Sheriff Cooper! I tried to stop him." Said the bartender. Sheriff Cooper walked over to Wyatt and helped him up. His attention then turned to the now injured man. "Why did you put your hands on this man? I don't smell a whiff of alcohol on you, so I suppose you did this intentionally. Your mind ain't fuzzy and that cost you leg movement. You're lucky I shot you where I did, otherwise you would've been dead. My conscience told me to do what is necessary." Said Sheriff Cooper. The man was spilling blood all over the floor, making the sheriff moved backwards with Wyatt. "What the hell is wrong with you? The man insulted my woman!" Said the bleeding man. Sheriff Cooper looked at him and laughed. "If I had a dollar for every time some idiot made that excuse, I'd be a goddamn millionaire." Said Cooper. The sheriff pulled Wyatt aside.
"You okay?" Asked Sheriff Cooper. "Your face is as red as the floor."
"I'm fine, I'm lucky you came along when you did." Said Wyatt.
"Yeah, I usually come around here this time of night. You have all the idiots comin' out and causing a ruckus. One time I saw a fella takin' a dump outside of an old lady's house."
"You're kiddin'."
"No sir. He was doin' it right in her front porch. Disgustin' thing was he wasn't finished when we took him in. That cell was a tough clean."
Wyatt laughed before looking back at the man on the floor. "What are you gonna do 'bout him?" He asked Cooper. The sheriff looked at the man and then looked at the entrance. "I suppose I could take him to the office. Leave him in there for a few days and then kick him out into the mud." Sheriff Cooper explained. As the two men spoke, the man on the floor was still holding onto his leg. The man sat up from his lying position and stared at Sheriff Cooper. He then began to reach for his holster, which was hidden away by his jacket. The man slowly pulled the gun out of the holster and pulled back the hammer. The sheriff heard the click. Then the man pointed the gun at Sheriff Cooper and the sound of a gunshot filled the room. There was a silence as the shot echoed in the bar. The bloody man fell to the floor as blood spilled from his head. Sheriff Cooper fired first. It was a quick shot, a clean shot. Wyatt looked at Cooper in both shock and amazement. "This was unfortunate." Sheriff Cooper mumbled. The man's wife came sobbing over towards the corpse and fell to the ground in despair. "Why?" She cried. "Why?!"
Sheriff Cooper looked at everyone in the bar. They were all shocked. Some people were leaving the gruesome scene, whilst others murmured to each other in fright. "Okay everyone!" Sheriff Cooper called out, "It's over, it's over. Go back to drinkin' your gin. I'll get this place cleaned up." Wyatt didn't know what to do, he didn't leave but he hated being in the presence of a man of the law. He didn't want to be recognised. "D'ya mind helpin' me with the body, sir?" The sheriff asked him. "Sure." Said Wyatt unwillingly. Sheriff Cooper grabbed the man's legs and Wyatt picked up the man's arms. "Okay. 1,2,3!" Said Sheriff Cooper as they picked up the body. The two men carried the body outside whilst the bartender cleaned up the fresh blood with a wet rag. Wyatt and Sheriff Cooper carried the body over to the sheriff's office. Wyatt was not as energetic as he was before, he was still trying to catch his breath. "Let's go behind the office, we'll dump the fella there and you can be on your way." Said Cooper. Wyatt acknowledged him and followed the sheriff's steps towards the back of the building. There was a pile of rice bags stacked up behind the building, posing as the perfect place to put the body. The two men walked over to the pile and threw the body onto it's back. "There we go." Said Sheriff Cooper whilst wiping his hands on his pants. "You helped me out tonight sir, now don't go 'round tellin' people about this. We like to keep this town quiet, less attention is for the best." Said Sheriff Cooper. Wyatt wiped his hands on the nearby wall of the office and began to walk away from the body. "Okay, I'll do that. Thanks for savin' me back there, officer." Wyatt told him. "Don't mention it." Said Cooper. Wyatt then made his way back towards the bar, he kept his head down to hide his face and his embarrassment. As he walked up the steps leading into the bar, he saw the bartender rubbing the rag along the floor. The bartender was getting nowhere because he was rubbing with so much friction that the blood was drying up and spreading along the floor. "Goddamnit!" He growled.
Wyatt walked past him and walked up the stairs, successfully this time.
He moved down a small hallway that included three doors labelled, "Room 1, Room 2 and Room 3." He didn't ask the bartender which room it was so he tried all three. As he turned the doorknob on Room 1, he could hear quick footsteps coming from inside. And old man came running out of the room with a rifle in his hands. He pointed it Wyatt who fell to the floor. "Are you a Mexican? If you are I'll put a bullet in your head and dance on your corpse!" The man said crazily. Wyatt laughed nervously and held up his hands. "Woah partner! I ain't a Mexican, I'm American." Wyatt explained. The old man stared down at Wyatt before an old woman came from the room and gently pushed the man back. "I'm sorry dear. Jack isn't the same after the war. What seems to be the problem?" Said the old woman. Wyatt put his arms down and sighed heavily. "I got the wrong room, sorry about this." Said Wyatt. The old woman smiled and then slammed the door in Wyatt's face, sending mixed messages. "Okay then…" Wyatt mumbled. He then walked over to Room 2 and held his hand out to turn the doorknob. He then came to a halt. He moved his hand away and placed his ear against the door. Wyatt could hear a man and a woman moaning loudly. He then moved his head away and shook his head. "Definitely not my room." Wyatt whispered. He then walked over to Room 3 and turned the doorknob slightly. There was no noise coming from the room so Wyatt opened the door further. There was nobody there. The room was empty, making Wyatt happy and thankful. Wyatt then closed the door and didn't hesitate to jump onto the bed face first. He then rubbed his head against the pillow and fell fast asleep. Peace and quiet, just how he liked it.