sam shenan
There was a time I wanted to be Sheriff of Hawker’s Drift more than anything in the world. Save maybe marry Elena May Thompson, of course. But that was a long time ago, a young man’s dreams now seem more like something I once read in a book than the desires and ambition that used to fill my soul. Now I just want to retire, grow pumpkins, sit in a comfortable chair and watch the clouds sail by the sunset.
And remember all those good and golden days I got to spend with Elena.
But she’s gone these last three years to her grave and I guess, if I’m gonna be honest, all I really want to do is join her.
The Mayor, however, has other ideas.
I made a deal with him all those years ago, you see, a deal to be his man, no matter what, if I got the Sherriff’s star. I looked him in his single restless eye, shook his hand and told him I was his man. Didn’t realise it meant my best friend would be run out of town, didn’t realise it meant I’d have to look the other way so much, didn’t realise I’d have a bunch of killers working for me to keep the Mayor’s peace in town.
Didn’t realise much about anything when I looks back at it all.
Blane’s watching me again. Spitting goddamn sunflower seeds on the floor in that same slow mechanical way he does most everything. There’s something odd about that young man. He watches everything with those cold, muddy eyes of his, but he never smiles, never shows any damn kind of emotion for that matter. Like there’s something dead inside him. There’s more expression and life on the faces of the mannequins in the window of Madame Fontaine’s fancy clothes store.
I think he wants my job. Frankly, he’s welcome to it, but the Mayor says he ain’t ready yet. Too inexperienced. Wouldn’t keep the townsfolk placated like good ol’ Sam Shenan more like. Not much reassurance in those empty eyes of his. The Mayor seems to like him well enough though. Seen him a few times heading into the Mayor’s big old house next to the Sheriff’s Office on Pioneer Square.
I wonder what little jobs the Mayor’s got him doing? Whatever they are, I dare say I’ll find myself looking the other way about that too.
Like I usually do…