SMARMSLUT QUEEN: Hello, and welcome to the
next-to-last installment of our story. As you can
tell, everything is fine here now.

MYSTERY VOICE: Yes, the place has been cleaned up and
all of the Spam is out of the bathtub.

(Very long pause)

GUS THE JANITOR: And you're all friends now.

MYSTERY VOICE: And, uh, we're all...friends...now.
Boy that's hard to say!

SMARMSLUT ADEPT: Harder than trying to pry dry Silly
String off the ceiling?

GUS: Right. So y'all behave now.

(Very long pause)

GUS: And what ELSE are you going to do?

SMARMSLUT MASTER: Oh, c'mon! Do we have to?

GUS: Yes, it was part of your plea bargaining.

QUEEN: Okay, okay-we're going to be telling you all
who we are at the end of the final part of our story.

MYSTERY VOICE: But that wasn't our idea!

QUEEN: Yeah, well-so get out your scorecards and see
if you can correctly guess who we are. The answer is
coming soon!

GUS: That's better.

QUEEN: Thank you. Say Gus, I never noticed you had a
Southern accent before.

MYSTERY VOICE: Or green eyes...

GUS: (very quickly) That's all, enjoy the story!
*click*

****************************

Ashes of the Mind, pt 27
by the Smarm Sluts



*****************

The saloon clock ticked loudly in the deserted
silence of the barroom. Its monotonous heartbeat was
intermittently joined by the gentle thwapping of the
cards being tossed about as Maude, Vin and JD played a
late-night game of poker.

"Won't be too much longer til Ezra can come down an'
take our last dimes, huh?" JD said hopefully.

"Might be a while yet," Vin said in a serious tone,
shifting in his seat. "A tryin' time like that can
hurt a man in places where it don't show."

"I know what you mean, Vin," Maude muttered as she
studied her hand. "I saw many men come out of the war
total wrecks, simply because of the horrors they
witnessed."

"Yeah, but Ezra's better now," JD continued as he
folded and tossed his cards back on the table. "He's
been sleepin' a lot an' eatin'."

Vin shrugged. "Sure hope so, JD. But I'm afraid he's
still got a long road ahead of 'im."



Josiah glanced up from his book as he kept watch on
Ezra, studying how the gambler's sleep was
progressing. The lamp was turned down to a very dim
glow, and in its light he could see Ezra curled up in
the quilt, almost hidden in the yielding folds of the
featherbed and down pillow. Things seemed fine;
Josiah smiled a bit and went back to reading.

A few moments later a soft moan caught his ear. He
looked up; Ezra was stirring, his hands clutching at
the bedsheets in an agitated manner as he began to
groan louder.

Uh oh, Josiah thought as he dropped the book and
bent closer. "Ezra?"

Muffled sobs escaped from Ezra's throat as he buried
his face in the pillow, his writhing becoming more
agitated. Josiah heard him mutter in a weak and
pain-filled voice, "God...no..."

"Ezra, wake up," Josiah said in a firm voice,
reaching out and touching his friend on the shoulder.

The response was more wordless, agonized moaning as
Ezra began to thrash in the bed, his bandaged arms
clawing desperately to escape the agony. His eyes
were open now, but seeing something Josiah shuddered
to think of. Finally Ezra paused, drew in a deep,
rattling breath and let out a scream of
soul-shattering anguish.

"Ezra!" Josiah cried as he tried to grab Ezra's
wildly flailing arms. "Wake up!"

The other man emitted a choked wail and with all of
his might struck out at what he imagined to be the
source of his suffering. One fist connected solidly
with Josiah's nose, and the preacher staggered back
for a moment as blood began to pour down his face.
Ezra's violent contortions landed him on the floor
with a heavy thud, still gasping and sobbing
incoherently as he relived the tortures of the asylum.

The door flew open, revealing a horrified Maude. JD
stood behind her, his eyes wide with shock.

"What's the matter?" Maude cried, stepping towards
the contorting figure of her son on the floor.

"Don't, Maude!" Josiah yelled as he stood and went
between the con woman and Ezra. "He's out of his mind.
JD, get Nathan!"

Maude gasped and stepped back as Ezra shrieked in
pain. "Is it-he sounds like he's in agony."

"He is, but it's agony that's long past," Josiah
said as he tried to get close to Ezra. The gambler
still moaned and wept, his voice racked with anguish
and occasionally rising into a scream of torment.

Josiah glanced at Maude. "Maybe you better go,
Maude, he's in an awful bad way."

She hesitated, then set her jaw, her eyes blazing.
"He's my son, Josiah. I-I'd like to help, if I can."

Ezra's moaning became louder, mingled with
heartbreaking sobs and half-coherent pleas for help.
Josiah finally grabbed Ezra's arms, forcing the
gambler as gently as possible into a rough embrace as
he knelt on the floor beside him.

"Ezra?" Josiah said in a loud voice as he wrapped
his arms around the gambler. "Ezra, it's Josiah. Can
you hear me?"

Ezra's struggles were renewed as he tried to get
away. "No...I...God, no..." he murmured, the sentence
ending in another wail of pain.

Josiah tightened his grip. "Ezra, listen to me!
Nobody's hurting you. We want to help you, you're
home in your room. Wake up!"

Ezra tried once more to pull away, the cries
breaking down into racking sobs. He grabbed onto
Josiah's shirt with one hand, burying his face in the
preacher's shoulder as hoarse sobs poured from his
heart. Josiah's face was somber as he held onto
Ezra's trembling form, waiting while his friend
released the horrors of his suffering.

"Ezra, listen to me," Josiah continued in a gentler
voice, holding him tighter. "You're safe. The asylum
is gone, Maxwell is dead."

The sobbing grew louder and more pained. Ezra's grip
on Josiah tightened violently as if he were trying to
draw closer to the comfort in the midst of his
anguish.

"Ezra, it's your mother," Maude said, taking a few
steps forward, bending down and gently putting her
hand on his head, stroking his damp chestnut hair.
"Please listen. Josiah's telling the truth."

Silence fell in the small room, except for Ezra's
painful sobs. He convulsively gripped Josiah's shirt
as the nightmare played itself out, and the preacher
held him in a strong embrace, trying to reassure the
half-conscious gambler that he was safe. Eventually
the sobs died away and the grip loosened, and Ezra
slowly relaxed against Josiah's chest, his eyes
closed.

Maude gazed at him in worry. "Is he all right now?"

Josiah sighed; blood still ran from his nose, and
his shirt was damp with Ezra's tears. "I think so.
Reckon he just had to get it out."

He remained kneeling for a few minutes, unwilling to
disturb the gambler's rest. Finally Ezra stirred a
little and half-opened his eyes, looking up at Josiah.
There was no longer any torment in those ice-green
depths, only profound weariness.

"You know me, Ezra?" Josiah said in a soft tone.

Ezra gasped a little, trying to get a breath as he
blinked the tears from his eyes. "Now...is not the
time...for guessing games, Josiah," he whispered.

Josiah laughed a bit, relieved, and glanced at Maude
with a smile.

Ezra looked around, his eyes filled with confusion.
"What...happened? Why am I on the floor?"

"Bad dream, I guess," Josiah replied. Ezra frowned,
thinking, then suddenly shuddered and involuntarily
shrank back into Josiah's arms.

"Oh..yes..." he whispered. "Good Lord..."

Maude leaned forward, taking Ezra's hand. "You can
tell us, son. We'll help you."

But Ezra shook his head, his eyes full of horrible
memory. "No..never. It's not something...you should
have to bear."

"Well, how bout you let us put you back on the bed?"
Josiah asked with a gentle smile. "This floor's gotta
be mighty cold."

"An excellent suggestion," Ezra replied. With
Maude's assistance Josiah managed to lift Ezra back
onto the featherbed; the gambler tried to help, but
his emotional outburst had left him exhausted. He
sank into the soft embrace of the featherbed with a
weary sigh, glancing up at Josiah's bloodied face as
Maude pulled the quilt over him.

"Did I do that?" he asked, his eyes widening.

"Oh, don't worry about it," Josiah shrugged as he
wiped his face with his bandanna. "When you get
better I'll just punch ya back."

"My thanks for the warning," Ezra murmured as his
head sank into the pillow; he was already falling
asleep again. Maude looked up at Josiah.

"Should we let him sleep? What if he had another
nightmare?"

"I'll be by if he does," Josiah assured her,
watching as Ezra drifted back off. She gave him an
unsure look, and they walked to the door.

She paused and looked back at him, framed by the
glow of the hallway lamps. "And after he gets better,
Josiah? Will these nightmares come back then? How can
we know he'll ever be truly free of what happened?"

Josiah's expression became thoughtful. "It's up to
him, really, ma'am. But he's a strong one."

"Yes, but..." Her voice trailed off and she sighed.
When she looked back at him, her eyes were sharp.
"This is not the life he was bred for, you know,
Josiah. Keeping the law, and getting shot and beaten
for it. It's not his calling."

Josiah studied her closely before answering. "Yes,
ma'am, but it's his choice. An' I bet every inmate who
survived that asylum is damn glad he made it. I sure
am."

Maude hesitated, glanced again at her sleeping son,
the tears still wet on his now-peaceful face.

"Maybe I can be too, some day," she sighed. "But not
now. Thank you for your help, Josiah. Good night."

She walked back downstairs, passing Nathan and JD on
their way up. Josiah stood in the doorway, watching
her go as they came up to him.

"Sorry we took so long, Emily Adams was deliverin',"
Nathan said, looking past Josiah into the room. "He
all right now?"

Josiah nodded. "Yeah, bad dream. Thought he was back
at the asylum, from the sounds of it."

"God," JD whispered, then peered closely at the
preacher's face. "Your nose looks busted."

"Oh-" Josiah gently touched it, then pulled a cloth
from his pokcet and began wiping away the blood. "It
got in the way of Ezra's fists while he was havin' his
dream. Just a little bloody, it's fine."

"Hmm." Nathan peered at it, then stepped back. "You
want JD t'stay here for a while?"

Josiah shook his head and straightened. "Naw, I can
watch Ezra. I think he'll be all right now." He looked
back at the staircase. "I think Maude's not too happy
about all this."

"Well, Ezra did almost die," Nathan observed
solemnly. "An' he's all she's got. Can't blame her for
wonderin' if this is worth it."

The other man glanced at Ezra's slumbering form.
"Each of us have to answer that for ourselves, Nate.
Maybe one day she'll have one, too."

Nathan nodded and left the room. Josiah dabbed at
his nose a bit more, wincing at its soreness, then sat
back down and went back to his book, his mind far away
from the words as he contemplated in the quiet
darkness. Ezra's sleep remained deep and undisturbed
by further nightmares, but the unanswerable question
remained.