SMARMSLUT QUEEN: Ahem. Um, hi. (off) Do we HAVE to do
this?
GUS THE JANITOR: Unless you want the police back here,
yes.
MYSTERY VOICE: This is ridiculous. I was winning!
SMARMSLUT ADEPT: In your DREAMS, fic-girl!
(Squabbling voices)
GUS: Okay, that's enough! The place is trashed enough
already! Now just do this like you all agreed and
there won't be any more ugliness.
(Grumbling)
QUEEN: Oh all right. Here's the next part of our
story. We hope you enjoy it. There, happy?
GUS: Not with eight rooms strewn with Silly String and
Spam that I have to clean up, I'm not. Now will you
all please behave from now on?
MYSTERY VOICE: But they kidnapped me, stole my story
and locked me in a closet!
SMARMSLUT MASTER: And she tricked us, locked US in the
closet and ate all of our chocolate!
GUS: Well, let this be a lesson to you then. No more
dirty fighting! Now grab a broom and a bucket and
let's get to work.
QUEEN: Oh all right-hey how'd you get the cops here so
fast?
GUS: I have friends in law enforcement. Now take this
shovel and go clean the Spam out of the bathtub.
QUEEN: Ewwwww...
************************
Ashes of the Mind, pt 26
by the Smarm Sluts
Disclaimer: See pt 1
The others responded to Maude's cheerful
announcement that Ezra had come out of his shock and
was now sleeping peacefully with a loud cheer and a
round of whiskey for everyone in the bar.
Josiah smiled proudly at Maude who came to him and
thanked him for his advice. Never in his life was the
preacher more inclined to thank God than he was now.
But Josiah had other plans while the others started an
impromptu celebration.
Chris grinned more happily than Buck had seen for
some time at the news, and was one of the first to
tell Maude how happy he was for her. While the others
sat for a round of Poker in Ezra's honor, Josiah stole
up to the gamblers room and stealthy opened the door.
He looked peaceful. Josiah observed, as he walked
closer to the now sleeping form. He had curled
himself up on his right side, the burned left arm
tucked protectively by his body. Josiah just wished
he had gotten to the man who did this to his friend
before Ezra had. He had wanted to have words' with
the heathen for the damage he had wrought.
A small cough interrupted the preachers musings.
Then another, louder one. Suddenly Ezra was coughing
violently, just like the others had for a couple of
hours after the fire. Was all the smoke from the fire
still in his lungs as Nathan had feared?
Josiah crept closer to the bed and noticed Ezra's
eyes were open and somewhat pain-filled as he
continued to cough. It was as if he couldn't stop!
"Ezra?" Josiah retrieved a glass of water
from the night table next to the bed. "Here, drink
this, it will help."
Ezra weakly attempted to sit up and Josiah helped
him to a sitting position, the coughing eased enough
for Ezra to take a few sips , but as soon as he lay
back down it started again in earnest.
"J...Josiah..." A cough interrupted Ezra's attempt
at talking.
"You want me to fetch Nathan?" Josiah sat him up
again and the violence of the attack waned. Ezra
looked at least like he could breathe again, and
Josiah noticed his skin taking a grayish cast. Not
good!
Ezra nodded, unable to speak, he was breathing so
hard. The coughing fit left him weak and breathless,
he couldn't seem to get enough air.
"Will you be all right while I get him?" Josiah
suddenly didn't want to leave the man in case he got
into more trouble.
"I'll...be fine." Ezra panted, then waved Josiah
away. "Go."
Turning hurriedly, Josiah ran down the steps into
the Saloon, the others heads snapped up at his abrupt
departure and at the look on his face, knew something
was wrong.
"Nathan, Ezra started coughing. Bad." Josiah said
into the hushed room. "He can't seem to breathe
right."
"Damn it!" Nathan cursed, dropped his hand of poker
to the table and sprinted up the steps. The others,
likewise followed his example and they all ran towards
the room.
By the time they got there, Ezra was more or less
still sitting up, smothering a cough, and struggling
to breathe while Nathan told him to take smaller
breaths and try to relax.
Maude gasped at the pallor in her son's face, but
knew that this might happen. The Army surgeon who had
looked at him in Branford had told them this. All the
smoke he had breathed in the fire had sat in his lungs
and while he didn't move or take deep breaths, it
didn't have a chance to work itself out of them.
Maude didn't really understand, but now it looked like
the worst was happening. Her son might still die!
Nathan ordered Buck to fetch some hot water for some
tea and then sent JD running for his herbs. He knew a
remedy that would ease the sick man's chest and loosen
the bands that seemed to constrict it.
After the ingredients arrived and Ezra had drunk the
tea, Nathan told everyone to leave and let Ezra have
some room. He would be down when the spasmodic fit
had ceased. Through all this, Ezra hadn't spoken a
word and it looked to all as if he had subsided back
into shock, but Maude knew different, the slight pain
in her sons light eyes told her he was still there,
just fighting to keep it all together. He was
fighting, that was good.
The others reluctantly left the room and all settled
in to wait.
Ezra groaned as another coughing fit pulled him from
the arms of a deep sleep. His entire exhausted body
ached for rest, but it was impossible to achieve when
he couldn't breathe. Half-conscious, he could only
ball himself up beneath the covers and struggle to
regain his breath. It almost felt as if he was still
being tormented by the fiends at the asylum.
As he gasped for air he felt hands on his shoulders,
lifting him up and supporting him. That helped a
great deal, and as his beleaguered lungs worked to
pull in the sweet air, Ezra managed to open his eyes.
It was day, morning by the looks of it, and Nathan
was at his side, holding him up so he could breathe.
At one time, Ezra knew, he would have been repelled by
the thought of a man of Nathan's color touching him;
now his reaction was one of deep gratitude.
"That better?" Nathan asked, as Ezra's breathing
eased. After a few more frantic gulps of air, Ezra
nodded, and the healer carefully lay him back down.
"Good Lord," Ezra moaned as Nathan adjusted the
covers. "What-happened?"
"That smoke you breathed in when the asylum burned
down got into your lungs," Nathan said as he turned to
the nightstand and picked up a tin cup. "It's messed
'em up a bit, but if you've made it this far you'll
most likely be all right."
"Ugh," Ezra replied, weakly rubbing his face with one
hand. "I feel as though...I haven't slept a wink."
"This'll help," Nathan said, holding up the cup.
Ezra eyed it dubiously, then sighed. "Very well, if
it will help."
Ezra drank the brew with Nathan's help and settled
back down.
"I know it don't taste too good," Nathan said as he
replaced the cup, "but we got to get you rested up.
Bet you didn't get much rest at the asylum."
Ezra winced, his eyes dark. "They...weren't too keen
on allowing me to sleep."
Nathan pursed his lips in anger. "Yeah, that's an
old one. My master used t'do it too, to slaves he
wanted t'teach a lesson."
A small cough escaped Ezra's lips, but he quickly
recovered as he turned on his side. "In that case,
Nathan, I believe...I find myself sympathizing more
with your sufferings."
He saw Nathan smile slightly through dimming eyes.
"Glad t'say that sufferin's long over, Ezra, an' yours
will be too if you just pipe down an' rest. That
coughin' should be over soon."
Ezra nodded, closed his eyes, then opened them again
as a new thought occurred to him. "Nathan, is JD
here?"
Nathan looked at him. "Hm? Sure, he's here. He came
back with us."
Ezra's eyes narrowed; he was still convinced JD was
dead and they just weren't telling him. Skeptical,
Ezra pressed on. "I should like to see him, please."
Nathan rose. "He wants t'see you too Ezra, but
you're still gettin' better. Get a few more days' rest
an' then you can see him."
The down pillow rustled softly as Ezra shook his
head. "I must insist, as soon as possible."
Nathan frowned at him as he picked up the empty tin
cup. "Why you so all-fire anxious t'see JD?"
Ezra hesitated, not having the power to accuse
Nathan of lying at the moment. "I simply desire it,
is all."
"Well, that's fine, but y'ain't up to it," Nathan
said with finality. "You need t'sleep."
Ezra scowled, but found himself becoming very
drowsy. Damn tea, he thought. "I promise you I will
persist," he said as his eyelids drooped.
"I can be stubborn too," Nathan said with a slight
smile. "I'll check on ya in a few hours."
Ezra heard the door open and close, and sighed as he
felt himself drift off. One way or another, he was
determined to learn the truth-however painful it would
be.
JD climbed the stairs to Ezra's room with a feeling
of increasing dread; it was all he could do to keep
himself from bolting.
This is silly, he kept telling himself as he
surmounted each step, he should be happy Ezra kept
asking to see him, happy that the gambler's coughing
had eased and that he wasn't going to die. And he WAS
happy, just like they all were. He had been so
terrified that Ezra was going to die in that hellhole,
that he wouldn't be able to get help fast enough to
save him. But he had done it, and the resulting
feeling was more deep relief than pride. He was so
glad the asylum was gone, and the people there put
somewhere where they could be helped. And Ezra was
going to be okay.
Then why were his knees shaking?
JD topped the landing and stopped as he pondered the
question; the answer came quickly enough, since he had
done nothing but dwell on it ever since Nathan had
told him of Ezra's repeated requests to see him. No
amount of pleading would get Nathan to tell JD why
Ezra was so anxious to talk to him; the healer had
insisted that Ezra hadn't told him the reason, leaving
JD to wonder. Was Ezra mad at him? Maybe he wasn't
fast enough getting help. Maybe Ezra blamed him for
the fact that he and Chris almost got killed, or that
he had to spend so long in that hellhole.
Of course, JD admitted to himself, maybe Ezra just
wanted to thank him. But he could do that any time,
why had Nathan told him that the gambler was almost
frantic in his insistence? In JD's experience, that
usually meant people were mad at you. Maybe Ezra felt
that JD let him down by being too emotional and
tipping their hand. Was that it? What if Ezra blamed
him for the whole mess? JD couldn't bear that thought.
But no matter what, sooner or later, he'd have to find
out.
JD stood alone in the hallway, trying to work up the
nerve to open Ezra's door.
Behind that door, in the still, warm darkness of his
room, Ezra lay half-asleep, waiting. He knew exactly
what was going to happen.
Sooner or later, he knew, Nathan would have to admit
to him that JD was dead.
The thought tore Ezra's heart out, but there was no
other conclusion possible; he had seen him taken away
with his own eyes, and he knew Jed would never have
let the boy escape. The terrible tale of JD's death
still rang in his ears, still haunted his sleep; it
had to be true, and Ezra was responsible. He never
should have brought JD into so dangerous a situation,
and the guilt he would have to live with seemed scant
punishment for the wrong he'd done the young man.
Of course, he'd seen JD the day the asylum burned,
but he knew now that was just a hallucination; he'd
imagined a lot of strange things that day, none of
them real, including JD. It was too much to hope for,
that he was alive, Ezra didn't deserve that sort of
joy. Not after allowing JD to get himself trapped. He
had been thinking of nothing but his own welfare, and
JD had paid for it, in the way Ezra should have.
Ezra was too weak to fight off the memories of JD,
but they were almost too painful to contemplate. A
young man, intelligent, adventurous, open and honest
in ways which put Ezra to shame. How could he have
told JD to rein in that exuberance, that he should
never trust his feelings? That had been wrong, and now
he could never tell him so. The boy had died cursing
Ezra's name, that's what Jed had said. Ezra knew he
shouldn't believe it, but he did, because it seemed
right. And he had not seen JD since his return.
Because JD was dead, and they just hadn't told him
yet.
Ezra sighed and turned on his side, burrowing into
the covers. Once he'd recovered, he'd leave Four
Corners, he couldn't stay knowing what he had done.
Maybe he'd go with his mother back to St. Louis, or go
to San Francisco. But planning would have to wait
until his mind was more clear, and his heart wasn't so
heavy. His mind would clear soon enough.
He wasn't so sure about his heart.
JD put his hand on the doorknob and swallowed. He
had steeled himself to accept whatever Ezra said to
him; he only wished Nathan was nearby, in case Ezra
got too excited.
He gently turned the knob, vaguely wondering why its
soft clicking sounded like a cannon going off, and
eased his way into the room. He could barely see in
the dim half-light; as he quietly closed the door, he
saw that Ezra seemed to be asleep. He hesitated;
maybe he should go tell Nathan that he couldn't talk
to Ezra, even though Nathan had been very emphatic
that Ezra had demanded to see JD now.
But JD's hopes of escaping confrontation vanished
when Ezra started a little and slowly turned over to
look at him. As the gambler's eyes opened to inspect
his visitor, JD saw them widen in shock; Ezra's
expression turned from drowsy curiosity to outright
wonder. JD stood awkwardly underneath that stare, as
Ezra remained motionless. God, I knew it, JD thought
miserably. He's so mad at me he doesn't know where to
start.
It can't be, Ezra thought wildly, as he recognized
JD's dimly lit form in the shadows of his room. His
body was swamped with a cold, terrible numbness,
sorrow and guilt consuming him. It's another
hallucination, or a dream. Or JD's vengeful spirit
come to torture me. Maybe I really am mad now.
He began to shake.
JD stood clutching his hat, surprised at how Ezra
just lay there looking at him. His fear was giving
way to concern; shouldn't he have started yelling by
now? Maybe I should get Nathan, JD thought, he
doesn't look so good.
Clearing his throat, JD said softly, "Uh, Nathan
said you wanted to see me."
Ezra said nothing, but now JD saw small tears
glistening in the corners of his eyes. Concerned, JD
stepped forward and put a hand on Ezra's shoulder.
"Hey, Ezra, are you-"
Ezra let out a loud gasp and pulled away, dragging
himself halfway across the bed. JD gasped too.
"Oh, damn, Ezra, did I hurt you?" he said, angry at
himself. "God, I'm sorry! Want me to get Nathan? He's
right downstairs."
Ezra remained where he was, in a half-sitting
position in the bed, propped up on his hands, staring
at JD. Even in the dim light, JD could see him
trembling, and his wide green eyes gazing at him in a
strange sort of disbelieving, terrified joy.
There was silence in the room for a moment; then JD
heard Ezra whisper, in a small, tremulous voice, "JD?"
JD looked at him, unsure. "What?"
Ezra said nothing else, but his breath began to come
very fast. Now becoming frightened, JD reached out
and gently pushed Ezra back into bed.
"Now look, Ezra, Nathan'll kill me if I get you all
riled up, so why don't you just, uh, just lie back
down here and I'll get him, OK?"
He quickly rearranged the blanket and was about to
go and get Nathan when Ezra suddenly reached out and
grabbed his hand. JD looked up, startled at the
strength of the gambler's grip.
"Ezra, are you OK? What's wrong?"
The other man began to shake his head as he stared
at JD; finally he whispered, "You're alive."
JD almost laughed. "Sure I'm alive! They tried to
throw me in that scorpion pit, but I got away. Didn't
they tell you? Well, uh, no, guess they didn't."
Ezra slowly released JD's hand, never taking his
eyes off of JD. "They...they told me you died in
agony cursing my name. That they threw your body to
the vultures."
"Oh my God," JD gasped, amazed at such cruelty.
"No, no, Ezra! That's all a lie, see? You saw me when
the asylum burned down, remember?"
Ezra nodded. "But...I thought I dreamt that. Things
have been rather, um, confused lately..."
JD was silent for a moment; he had never seen Ezra
so emotional, and it was strange, especially since it
was Ezra who had told him to go by thought, not
feelings. He wasn't quite sure what to say.
"Well," JD said finally, "don't worry, I got out
just fine. I remembered what you told me, to use my
head, and I think it worked."
Ezra had settled back into the bed, exhausted; now
he sighed and said, "Yes, well, JD, I've discovered
that...your tendency to act on your emotions...is not
as mistaken as I originally thought."
JD smiled. "You must be feelin' better, Ezra, your
words are gettin' longer."
The door opened, and Nathan peered in. "Everything
goin' OK, JD?"
JD looked from Ezra to Nathan. "Oh, yeah, we're
just talkin'."
Nathan nodded, giving Ezra a small smile. "Couldn't
wait to start gabbin' away again, huh?" His smile
faded a bit as he studied Ezra more closely. "Hey,
you look mighty tired. You better get some rest.
C'mon, JD."
JD put his hat back on. "See you later, Ezra." He
paused, then said in a quiet voice, "I'm glad you got
out OK."
Ezra nodded, too tired to speak; but JD could see
the emotion in his eyes which echoed his words. JD
nodded back, gently gripped Ezra's shoulder, then
stepped away and sped out of the door. Nathan gently
pulled it shut, enveloping the room once more in
darkness. And in that darkness, Ezra turned his face
into his down pillow, and wept with relief and joy
until he fell asleep.