el ketchupo

beanlikemustard @ 2005-05-02T02:14:00

2005-05-02T09:12:19Z

Chapter 4

Joe Smith

By Andrew Kim

I woke up yesterday morning, with a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. The kind of feeling that gets you riled up and angry. I felt like punching something. I felt like something bad was about to happen. I thought about Deborah, as I always do when I wake up in the morning.

Its been about 3 years since Deborah passed on. Little Charlie and Margaret are so dang tall now. Charlie is 9 years old, and Margie is 12. It’s been so hard with Deborah gone and all, but we manage. I wish she could see them growing up. Charlie is already working the field, and Margaret just stays at home cleaning and doing the laundry, and other household chores, just like Deborah used to do. Everything would be so much better, if it weren’t for that man. The man that ever got away with an awful crime like that when I was a sheriff back at San Jose. That horrible man, that I once called friend. I can’t think about him anymore. That was the past, and I had to get him out of my head
I went to go wake up Charlie. Margie was already awake cooking breakfast. I had to teach the kids. They have been home schooled all their lives. Deborah used to teach them, while I went to work, and I brought home a lot of money. Now, we have to live off of the money that I saved up and put in the bank from my old job. I also have a little job selling some of our corn, but that’s going nowhere. The money in the bank is also running out in a hurry. I had to quit being a sheriff because I had to take care of the kids and all. Boy do I miss my old job, but it’s all worth it to take care of my beautiful children. Little Charlie is so bright. He’s almost ready to be learning on Margie’s level. I taught them in the morning and I let them go off to do their work.

By the time everyone went off, it was around 2 o’ clock in the afternoon. I could hear the train coming into town. It’s been serving for many years now. I always wondered where that train went to. I took the 97 into this town, and have never ridden on it since. One day, I would like to take my children, just get on that train and go as far as it’ll take me. I went to the bank to withdraw a little money. I went back home to get my crate of corn. I told Charlie to go get some pegs from the country store, right next to the train station, although everything seems to be next to the train station, because this town is so small. That train is the only reason this town exists. It’s like a little rest stop for people heading further down south.

I couldn’t really think straight. I was doing what I did everyday, but I just didn’t feel right. I wasn’t sick, but every time I thought of something, it somehow got connected to Brutus. I didn’t want to think about him, but I just couldn’t help it. If he just hadn’t done what he did, we would still be friends, and I would be a sheriff. Sometimes, I just wonder where he went wrong. If he had just stopped being a bandit when I told him, he and Deborah would still be alive. Even though I say that I’m glad that he’s dead, a part of me wishes he were still alive, but I wouldn’t know what to do if I met him. I don’t know whether I would just forget about the past and embrace him, or just lash out and try to kill him for what he did to me.

I walked around the streets selling my corn. The business was horrible.

“Come buy our corn! It’s the best in town!” I would yell over and over again.

Nobody ever buys though. I wish I could still be a sheriff. It was so exciting. I loved that job. I was the best sheriff ever, and Brutus was a damn good bandit. Why did I keep thinking about Brutus? Is it because somewhere deep in my heart, I knew that he was still out there somewhere? I knew that he was too good of a bandit, and that he could’ve easily made up a fake death. After all, I didn’t actually see him die. The station just told me that he died miraculously. All of my suspicions were to come true that night.

I walked out into the cornfield. It was a dark night, and I could barely see. I took out my pipe for a smoke. I was looking out into the distance and I saw smoke rising behind my cornfield. At first, I thought it was me, but I found out it wasn’t when I pulled the pipe away from my face. I ran towards the place with the smoke.

“Whos there?” I yelled.

I heard some noises, like someone trying to put out a fire. They were cooking my corn. Whoever it was, they were going to pay for it. I finally arrived at the scene where the fire was. The fire was out, but I could still feel warmth. I saw the outline of a man. He had pretty messy hair. He seemed pretty weak and disheveled. He seemed ready to fight. He then leaned a bit forward and said,

“Joe? Joe Smith?”
“Yeah, that’s me” I replied.
“I’m sorry” he said

The next thing I knew, I fell to the ground. I regained my senses after what seemed to be a few hours. I was tied down to a chair. I was in a barn. I could tell because of the hay I was stepping on.

“Who are you?” I demanded
“You know who I am” the person replied
“What? What are you talking about?” I said

Then, he walked forward and lit a match. I squinted. I was itching to see who this person was. He slowly pulled the match toward his face.

“Its me Joe. It’s your pal! Brutus.” He said
“IT CAN’T BE YOU!” I yelled
“YOU’RE DEAD! IT’S IMPOSSIBLE”
“I’m fraid its not true Joe. I’m alive and well.” He said calmly.

I wanted to stand up and punch him and knock him to the floor. Was he going to kill me? Why did he tie me up? He lit a couple candles in the room. I just lost it and started yelling and screaming. He then yelled back. He was saying something, but I couldn’t quite hear it that well. He said something about being sorry and coming to ask for forgiveness. When he said that, I started to calm down. He started to cry. He said,

“I’m so sorry Joe. I didn’t know she was your wife. If I knew she was your wife, I would have never killed her, besides, it was an accident.”
“I’ll never forgive you, Brutus. Not in a million years. It’s all your fault I ended up this way. You didn’t have to become a bandit.” I said

He then untied me and handed me a pistol.

“Here.” He said. “Take your revenge. This is the very pistol that killed your wife. Now, kill me. I have nothing left.”

I pointed the gun at his head. This was my chance. Once and for all, I would kill him. I would catch the only man that ever got away from me. I put the gun to his head. I started the put pressure on the trigger. I started to break a sweat. This was my chance. After this, all my troubles would be over and I would be at peace. Why was I hesitating? I then realized what I would be letting go if I didn’t kill him there. I closed my eyes and pulled. The gun was empty. It was not loaded. He grabbed the gun and ran off saying,

“I can’t believe you would do that”

He was just testing me. I sat there for a moment feeling a bit relieved, but also angry that he escaped from me once more. I realized that I was letting him get away so I got up and ran after him. I looked outside and he had vanished. I knew where I was now. I was just outside my neighbor’s barn. I slowly walked back home taking in what had just happened. I could see the sun coming up. Now I had another burden on my shoulders. Brutus was still out there, very much alive. He had also once again escaped my grasp. I was thinking once again when I realized something. He knew where I lived, and Charlie and Margaret were in the house alone. I ran back to the house. I ran inside their rooms to find them sound asleep. I walked into my room and saw an envelope on my table. I walked over and opened it. It read

Dear Joe,
I am sorry that we are no longer friends. Maybe you think that way, but I will always consider you my friend. Ever since that time with your wife, I have never done any bad deeds. The only bad thing I have done since that time was run from the law. I only ran so that I could find you, but after tonight, I guess I have nothing left to live for. I only ran with the hope of your forgiveness. Tomorrow will be my last day alive, and I have something big in store.
Your Friend,
Brutus

He had something big in store? What was that supposed to mean? Does he plan to kill people? Who knows what that man was thinking, but tomorrow would be his last day. I tried not to think about him too much. I woke up the kids and decided not to teach them. I wanted to act normal, but the kids kept suspecting me. What did Brutus plan to do? I felt it was my duty to stop him, if he was going to do something bad. I kept my children close to me all day long. I think they were getting tired of being around me, but I couldn’t risk leaving them alone. What was he planning to do? I was walking around trying to sell my corn. Then, in the distance, I saw him going toward the train station in his wagon. He looked pretty disheveled and dirty, but he was wearing a conductor’s suit. I knew what he was going to do. I grabbed the children and stole someone’s wagon. Knowing Brutus, he was planning on derailing the train. We got the front of the station, and I started yelling.

“STOP THAT TRAIN!!! ITS GOING TO DERAIL!!” I yelled to no effect

I had to go find the place where the rail was broken. I sped off as fast as the horse could go. I could hear the train starting. There was no way that I could reach the rail at the same time as the train, but I had to try.

* * *

Now I’m here on this wagon, looking for a spot in the tracks where there should be a broken rail. So many thoughts are going through my head. My children seem very scared and confused. They are holding on for their dear lives. We’re speeding up going faster and faster. I can see a small speck moving closer and closer to us. The train has already left the station. I’m looking ahead for a broken rail. I see it! I see a small piece of metal sticking out from the ground. I can’t get there through here. Darn, I have to take another road to get there. I won’t make it in time! What will I do when I get there? Brutus probably broke the brakes too. I will not be able to stop that train before it hits that point. I’m almost there. I can see the broken rails now, but the train is so close. The wagon is jumping up and down in every direction because of this rugged terrain. Margaret just fell out of the wagon and onto the ground, but I have no time to think about it. I’m determined to stop that train. Oh no… Its here! The train. I can’t stop it. Its too late. Wait… the conductor is jumping out of the train! Its Brutus! Did he actually plan to just jump out and be safe this whole time? I can hear Charlie screaming his lungs off. I can’t stop the horse! I wasn’t paying attention! We’re all going to die now. The horse is whinnying, and Charlie is still yelling. Brutus is standing in front of the horse and is getting trampled, but I still won’t be able to stop it in time. I’m pulling on the reigns as hard as I can. There’s already debris flying everywhere. The train is already starting to derail. This is it. I can at least try to throw Charlie off of this wagon. It’s over. So this is how it all ends. It’s all ending with the wreck of the ol’ 97

Chapter 1
Margaret Smith
By Melissa Colberg
The buggy was jolting every which direction as it sped down the cream colored rocky rode. Every rock or pebble we blasted over caused the three of us to be thrown- our limbs flailing. I clenched on to the side boards of the buggy and held fast but the convulsions were too strong and I felt a sort of weightlessness as I flew off the back of the buggy. A stuffled cracking noise filled my ears as my body seemed to flatten as I hit the ground. All I felt was a sort of numbness ass over my body. I couldn’t hear anything and all I could see was darkness.

When I regained consciousness a couple seconds later I faintly heard Charlie screaming and scrambling with Father for control of the reins. I realized how deeply my heart was pounding as I watched the train quickly clank its way closer and closer towards the break in the rails and the buggie which held Charlie and Father and nothing more.

“Stop Father, stop! The train, the rails,” screamed Charlie.

“What is he doing,” I sat thinking to myself along with the many other thoughts that went through my head so fast I couldn’t even recognize them.

“He’ll stop. I know he will.”

Just then, as I hear the horses whinny in ludicrous a man- the conductor in a baby blue jumpsuit leaped from the main engine car and rolled down the short heap of dirt that lead up to the railing. The horse whinnied furiously and a look of complete fear covered the conductor’s face as father tugged heavily on the reins. The horses managed to trample over the conductor lying motionless on the dusty rode. The buggy started to skid and rotate in a spiral. The harness connecting the horse to the buggy snapped and the horse skid and fell to its side where the buggy rammed into the already bloody masses of the horse’s once shiny coat. Father and Charlie seemed to be grabbing for something that was hidden invisible in mid air as they were thrown by the impact of the collision. The buggy settled upside down next to Father and Charlie who were left lying apart from each other in a mangle of limbs and dirt next to the wrecked pieces of wood.
A raspy scream escaped from my mouth after my stomach gave a lurch that made it seemed to have leaped at least five feet from where I lay. Screeching and grinding took my attention over to the colossal sight of the train being derailed. Gravel, rocks, dust and sparks were flying everywhere around the tons of metal that made the exoskeleton of the tons of the train. A thick cloud of dust was lifted up into the air and blocked out the view of the old buggy and the wreck of the ol’ 97.

* * *

I woke up and tiptoed to the lone window across the room and the cold atmosphere started to surround me as I got closer to the window. The glass was freezing as I pressed the cozy palms of my hands against it. There was a layer of frost covering the vast field of grass prairie that would simply melt within the hour leaving it damp. I took in a long sigh- it seemed to prepare me for the long day ahead. I walked over to the wash basin, washed my face and got dresses. I went into the front room where the cast iron stove was. I arranged some hay and firewood in the stomach of the oven so that I would be able to make breakfast and heat up the slightly chilly room. I shortly heard Father stirring in his room. Charlie slept in his room on a hay stuffed mattress. He soon came out and poured himself some coffee from the new tin coffee pitcher he bought a few days ago.

I almost dreaded this day, not that I expected it to be different from any other but now, the days seem to drone on, and on, and on, doing the same thing everyday. The days blurred together so I’d always have trouble identifying when particular events occurred. You’d hear about some people going crazy in situations like these. Mostly women end up loosing it then killing themselves and sometimes even their families. You don’t hear about it often, especially at my age, but I learned to listen in on adult conversations years ago.

When Father and Charlie were finished with breakfast, I cleaned the dining table and dishes with sandy water to get a clean scrubbing effect. Later, Felix the cat came over to distract me from my work. It amazed me how disconnected Felix seemd to be with the rest of the world. Father, Charlie and I have been the only people this small being has known all his life.

“I’m sure you’ve met other people and pets before, but do you know how big the world is? Do you know how many people or cats there are out there?”

I asked these questions expecting no response but waited for one anyways. These questions filled my mind as I teased him with the stuffed mouse I stitched together for him with one of Father’s old worn socks.

“What are you doing today, Felix?” I ran my fingers through his dark blue fur. He of course didn’t answer but continued to claw at the toy mouse.

“Hopefully, you’ll catch a real mouse today,” I said as I slowly got up and pulled the new butter churn out from next to the oven. The main reason Father bought Felix was because we had mouse problems. They attacked the dried beans and corn we had so Father bought the small blue Russian kitty from an old neighbor that lived south of our residence. It took a while before the kitten was big enough o take on one of the pesky mice by itself but when the first one was down they all seemed to come down immediately afterwards.

After an hour of churning butter using the new churn bought at the same time as the tin coffee pitcher, my hands were sore and seemed to tighten up when I flexed them. I felt blisters starting form under the first few layers of my skin. I was bored as usual so I pulled one of Father’s books from a shelf. The book expanded none of my interests so I put it back carelessly, put on some slippers and skipped
outside. There was a fresh breeze out that woke me from the slight daze I worked myself into while I was inside. I barley saw the dark figure of Charlie working its way through the cornfields.

“Is that Charlie? Who… Is that Father over there too,” I asked myself slightly confused.

“Never mind,” I said and slammed the door as I walked back inside. I started violently churning the butter with complete agitation.

“Rrraaaaaahhhhhh,” I complained, “Maybe drinking coffee wasn’t the best thing to do.”

I started to remember my mother. She would drink coffee everyday and it kept her happy and alert most of the time. I remembered the times when we would have to go without it for days because it was on demand. She would lie in bed sick, moaning from an overpowering headache, and sometimes even vomiting. Father and I would have to tend to her and make sure she had plenty of water and a hot, damp towel to place over her brow. Sometimes her sickness would get so bad that Father would have to send Charlie out with money to a neighbor’s house to buy coffee beans to relieve mother’s pain. Father would sit at the dining table at times holding his head in his hands for the longest time. We all knew he was thinking deep and hard about everything. I felt sorry for him but kept my distance. Charlie and I knew we were to keep our distance and stay quiet during times like those. The two of us would usually just go outside to keep steady and play.

Memories of my mother didn’t just stop at that though. Whenever Charlie, Father or I would think of Mother, our memories seemed to go on and on. Mother died during a bank robbery, when she tried to hit the man robbing the bank with her purse. I never got much detail about the whole thing, me being about nine or ten years old at the time. I only remember finding out about her death about five days after she actually died. Father found out the day of her death but hesitated telling Charlie and me because we were so young. When he did tell us neither Charlie nor I moved. We sat on our porch motionless with completely blank, expressionless faces. I don’t know what Charlie was feeling but I was completely numb. I kept on expecting tears to brim over but they never came. Father took us both in his arms but I didn’t sink into it like I would usually do. Instead I remained stiff and uneasy and pulled away shortly along with Charlie which made me think that we were feeling the same new numbness for the first time.

She was buried a few days later with a small number people at her funeral. Her sister, Aunt Margie, stayed with us for a month to keep us in spirits and on our feet and was very successful at that. We never spoke much about her after that. Any thoughts we had about it, we kept to ourselves and seemed to get past the whole thing a month or two later.

I went to sleep that night just rubbing the pain and aches away from my hands. Churning the butter sure was a pain. I woke up the next morning to find dad awake, but he had a certain look in his eye that told me something was wrong. He seemed really tired and looked worried. He decided not to do teach us that morning. He just wanted right near us. We had to stay close to him the entire time. He didn’t want us to go out of his sight. He was acting so strange. He even wanted us to go out with him to sell the corn. It was so boring. Then, all of a sudden, he looked off into the distance toward the train station. His eyes widened and he grabbed both of us and ran. We took somebody’s buggy. The horse was a white beautiful horse that looked very strong. Father whipped the horse and made it go faster. I was scared and held on as tight as I possibly could. Where were we going? Why were we in such a hurry? These were some of the questions running through my head. We kept riding along the railroad track. I asked father what he was doing. He then said

“I’m sorry Margaret. I love you, but I have to do this”

I was confused, but we kept racing down faster and faster. Little did I know that father and Charlie, were racing to their doom.

bandit story

2005-05-02T07:57:36Z

Period 2 English
5/1/2005

“The Wreck of Ol' 97”

The sun was high in the sky, burning the backs of working men. I hopped off the train, “Welcome to Reseda,” the sign read. People were unloading their baggage in an unfriendly ruckus; kicking, cussing, and whining. It would of made you think that they were returning to prison. Well, I wasn’t happy to be here. This place was worse than a prison to me. This place is where I would confront my best friend, Joe Smith. He was sheriff in San Jose. I don’t know if he is now in Reseda but he was in those old days. He was a good friend, never betrayed me once despite our differences in work. Him being a sheriff and all and I was a bandit. We were good old friends.
“Excuse me Mister,” a boy stumbled into me.
“No problem son,” I responded. He looked hurried, lines of worry on his face. The boy quickly moved on and rounded the corner. We had been friends ever since we were no bigger than that boy that ran into me. After I robbed a bank and killed his wife our friendship was over. I ran away and he ran away. Both of us not willing to confront what happened on that day. It has haunted me till this day I cant imagine how it has effected him. Could he forgive me even after the sins I have committed? I would have to hope so.
I left the train station after the crowd left. It was quiet now, the crowd seemed to have rushed home to see there loved ones. I was all alone, looking for forgiveness in my only friend left. At least, I hoped he was still my friend. I wouldn’t blame him if he did not want to be my friend anymore. Really, I understood why he would not want to be my friend, but I didn’t think I could take it if he rejected me. The bank robbery and all the other little petty crimes I did. He would of let me get away with that, but could he really forgive me for killing the one person he loved; The person that he married and shared two children with. I would be asking for a miracle. Could a man so infuriated be asked for forgiveness. I have changed but has he? I have been crime free ever since I ran. It has ruined my life, the murder, living in regret. My desire to live has vanished. The last thing I have left is the hope I have of renewing our broken friendship. I got all of my luggage, the clothes on my back and a unloaded revolver, I walked around the town.
The air was dry, hard to breath. The dirt roads were strewn with horse droppings. It looked as though there had not been rainfall from a long time. Dust billowed with the wind. People were no where in sight. They must of rushed off to their homes as if the train station was hell.
It is important to understand that in Reseda there are two major roads that cross in a X. The intersection between the roads is the busiest part of the town, the saloon was on the east corner, a bank was on the north corner, the train station was on the west corner, and the county store on the south corner. This is literally the whole town besides the few houses on the outskirts of the town the whole town amounts to these two roads.
“Excuse me sir, do you know what time it is?” I asked a man who was casually walking by wondering why I was stopped in the middle of the roads.
“yes, it is about half past 5,” he answered.
“Thank you,” I thanked him. By this time the sun was setting. The sky was brilliantly illuminated in an array of colors. Orange, purple, and pink were reflecting off clouds. The air was cooler and was a sharp intake. I was hungry now, I didn’t eat anything on the train ride over here. So I decided to go to one of the local cornfields. I set up camp in a pretty decent plot of land. It had high stalks of corn in rows and rows. I ripped up a few corn stalks and used them to start a fire. I ate the roasted corn and sat back and gazed at the stars.
The fire started to dim when I heard a voice. It was near by, “Who is out there?” it demanded.
I jumped up and smothered the fire. Just as I did this a man stumbled out of the corn field. He was tall and sturdy. With the limited light I could make out his face.
“Joe!?” I spurted. I grabbed him and punched him in the face. He went out cold, collapsed onto the floor. I dragged him to a near by barn. It looked as though it was on someone else’s property but I didn’t care, they wouldn’t be in there at this time at night and we wouldn’t be in there long. I tied Joe up with some rope I found in the bar and propped him up against a barrel. After what seemed like a hour or so he woke up.
“Brutus!?” He gagged as he rubbed his temples. Anger filled his eyes, “What are you doing here… I thought you were dead!”
“Joe, I am dead,” I told him. “I haven’t been able to forgive myself for ruining our friendship and killing your wife. I’ve been completely legit since that day, always having to run from the authorities though. I’ve never been able to settle down anywhere. I have no friends, I feel so distant from everyone because of that day. The pain I’ve caused on you and upon myself. I’m sorry man I really am,” I confided in him. I watched his eyes, saw the anger only dwell as I talked about that day. It must have been seven years ago, but the anger still looked fresh. He wouldn’t forgive me, but I would still have to find out for sure. I advanced on him and pushed him forward.
“Uhh, what are you doing?” he questioned. After I finished untying him I dropped my revolver on the ground. This revolver was the one I shot his wife with, Deborah.
“Joe here is your chance to take your revenge. Go ahead kill me if you want. All I want is your forgiveness, but if you think you cannot give me that then you might as well kill me,” I told him. He looked at me quizzically for a second. Then he reached down picked up the gun and pointed it at me and pulled the trigger.
“click,” is the sound it made. He pulled it twice more. “click, click,” He gazed at me confused. I exploded with rage. He rejected me, he would not forgive me. Even though I understood it, I did not expect him to reject me. Well, yes I did, I knew he was going to reject me from the moment I killed his wife. There was no way possible that a man could forgive the man who killed the person he loved. Even though I knew this it still angered me that he would take my life.
“Why Joe, why do you still want to kill me?!” I screamed at him. Even though I knew his answer I still asked the question. “Why do you want to kill me even though I’ve told you that I forgive you, I’ve told you that I am sorry, I told you that I cant live without your forgiveness, and still you want me dead. I am sorry! For heavens sake, I am sorry.” Without waiting for his response I ran up to him and hit him again. Then I took my damn gun and stormed out of the barn. This is not the way I had planned this event to happen. He was suppose to forgive me not try to kill me. He has killed me; taken my purpose, my desire to live and he is going to know what he has done. I ran to his house. Crept in silently, and went into his study. I jotted down a quick note, and left as quietly as I had entered. I was furious, intent on making him pay for his action. I was going to go out with a bang.
The next morning I went to the train station. I bought a ticket that would leave that afternoon. After with my remaining money I went and got a bite to eat. I hid in the saloon until it was time to depart to some random town. But this train wasn’t going to arrive to the random town. This train was going to be the bang. The bang I was going to go out with. I boarded the train and got a seat closest to the head of the engine.
When the conductor called, “all aboard,” I was prepared to commit my last sin. The train huffed and with a lurch was off to the random town. I waited till we departed the station before I got up and headed to the engine. I had my gun in my pocket, unloaded of course. I had not loaded it since that day when I ruined my friendship. I had been suffering since that day, but no longer. I was not going to feel the pain of that action. I was going to end my misery, and the misery of everyone else on this train.
After the “incident” last night I hiked to the train tracked about 3 miles away from the town. I spent the whole night removing a slab of track. I was dead tired after but it would be worth the revenge on my “friend”. He was going to pay. Everyone in this town was going to pay for his action last night. I was going to be free from the misery of my actions. This was the plan, and I intended to follow the plan.
The train was about a mile out when I made my move. I snuck up behind the engineer and smacked him on the back of the head with the butt of my gun. He was out cold. I went up to the controls of the train and broke the brake handle. Now this train was on a crash course for destruction. Everyone on the train was going to pay for my “friend’s” action. I put some more coal in the boiler and sat and waited.
We were about two miles out, when I started to doubt myself. It was to late to save the people, but was it to late to save me. Why should I die? Could I still live a normal life? I haven’t been able to so far but maybe I can if I work at it. Without one more thought I jumped off the train. To my surprise there was Joe and his son on a carriage, charging at me and the train at full speed. I don’t think they will have time to stop! I hit the ground and rolled forward. The train whizzing behind me. The last thing I saw was the carriage advancing on me, when my head hit the ground and I blacked out.

beanlikemustard @ 2004-12-08T20:14:00

2004-12-09T04:14:13Z

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