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Short Stories & Tall Tales
The Deputy of Allentown
Stephen G. Lonefeather
I was sitting in my wheelchair watching from the window of my room. I’d just rolled myself up to the glass to get a little sunshine when all hell broke loose on the boardwalk across the street.
Now it might only be a guess on my part as to what the deputy was thinking exactly, but I’d known him for eleven years … I once even wore the same badge he does. … so I watched him do just what I thought he would do I saw him run for cover.
HIS NAME WAS DAVID, but they called him Deputy Dave now, which sounds kind of dumb, but it was better than the nickname he’d grown up with; the one by which most of his family still called him.
He was born the runt of the family, so it seemed natural for them to call him midge, short for midget. The name stuck even after he had a sudden growth spurt that made him an inch taller than his older brother. Eventually he quit worrying about it, figuring there were more important things in life.
Nowadays the most important thing in his life was anything that had to do with a particular young lady he was dead set on marrying someday even if she didn’t know it yet.
He wasn’t well educated, but he wasn’t stupid either. He’d made it through the fifth grade just fine, but found that sitting in a classroom was rather boring compared to his favorite activity hunting varmints and shooting targets in the woods along the river.
It was because of that activity that his greatest talents came to fruition with two irrefutable facts. One, that he was the most accurate shot around, and two, that he wasn’t scared of a darn thing.
But that’s not what got him to accept the tin star he now wore on his vest, and the audacious title that came with it.
No, Dave hadn’t always dreamed of being a lawman. There was a time when running wild was his idea of how to make a real name for himself. He’d even joined a gang known as the polecats, who did everything from robbing banks, to cheating at cards, to rustling cattle. They quickly became one of the most notorious outlaw gangs in Kansas. Luckily he got out just before they were all strung up for murder.
Yep, Dave ran with the bad crowd for awhile before he became the law in Allentown.
People sometimes guessed about his turning from a criminal to walking on the right side of the law. Some said he got religion, others thought maybe he’d just become tired of being chased around the country. He smiled at their speculations, for he knew better than anyone that it was the pure magic that came in the form of a gal name Lilly that had done it.
That same gal now lay in the dust alongside the boardwalk in front of the bank. It made him furious that he couldn’t get to heryet.
THE GUNPLAY HAD started between the bandit and the Ranger just as he’d come around the corner driving his buckboard, excited to ask Lilly to a picnic at the lake; but things had changed.
It had all happened so fast. The first shots had spooked his horse who had reared and then charged to his left, which upset the whole kit and caboodle and overturned his load.
He’d been thrown in the dirt and had to scramble for cover over the scattered dinnerware and picnic basket items. The gelding had run down the road dragging the front axle that had broken loose when the wagon turned on its side.
He’d recklessly poked his head above the top of the tipped over wagon when he first heard Lilly scream, and there she was, plastered against the wall next to the bank’s doorway, trying to stay out of the commotion.
He’d recognized the bank robber when he grabbed her. Sure enough, it was that infamous sidewinder from near Abilene known as Cussin Charlie. He’d gotten that moniker because he always shouted a string of swear words at everybody as he rode off with their money.
With one arm around Lilly’s waist, Charlie used her body as a shield as he made his way to his horse at the hitchin post. Unfortunately with a sack of money in one hand and his pistol in the other, it didn’t allow him much of a grip on Lilly. She pulled loose and started to run; that’s when the Ranger winged him.
Now I’m sure if Lilly hadn’t been wearing that long Annabelle skirt she wouldn’t have tripped and rolled down the steps of the raised boardwalk, and the Ranger might not have been distracted by that, and he might not have ended up dead.
From his hiding spot the Deputy glanced to his right and saw the Ranger sprawled out about twenty yards from the corral fence. It didn’t look to him like he was ever going to change his position, which meant his day off with Lilly was also shot to hell.
But that’s the way it turned out, so with all that said it was plain to see that Deputy Dave had just inherited himself a peck of trouble.
He drew his pistol.
Now Dave might have been the most accurate shot around these parts, but he was as slow as a frozen snail when taking aim. So with Lilly starting to stand up just as Cussin Charlie got to the hitchin post, it put her about one second from gettin in the way of his shot. But Deputy Dave wasn’t scared of anything.
While taking carful aim, he found himself oddly wondering just how close he would come to killing his sweetheart, and about how many times his target would spin after being hit by a 44 caliber slug.
He let’r fly just as Lilly stood up.
*******
THE WEATHERVANE attached to the fence post next to Lilly and Charlie spun three times after the rock connected with it. They jumped out of the way.
“Time to come in!” His mother’s voice rang out from the porch doorway. “Midge, you and cousin Charlie turn your wagon right side up and put the toys back in it, then hook Ranger to his chain in front of his doghouse. Lilly, your mamma called, you need to git home. The boys have to come in for supper anyway. You can all play tomorrow.”
“Awe, ma. Do we have to?
I opened the window. “David Allen Townsend, you listen to your mama now or you won’t be savin anybody tomorrow.”
I closed the glass and smiled, thinking about how long it had been since it was my turn to save everybody in the land of imagination.
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