Story of the Week

Second story choice this week -
Excerpt from "Through the Mist"

       Friday night came and things weren’t no better. I know’d my brothers were going in to town to a social but neither had asked if I was going. I guess they figured that I was gonna be poor company and they didn’t want me along. Well that suited me just fine. I’d go alone and have a few drinks. Maybe a whisky or two would help me sleep. Though I’d been nipping at Pa’s brandy and that hadn’t done much except give me a headache come morning. My dream had moved on a little, I now saw a cliff the way you’d see it if’n you was on a ship. I heard a noise that sounded like the cry of a seagull but it didn’t mean anything. We was hundreds of miles from the sea and the nearest gulls were over Lake Tahoe and there sure weren’t no cliff there like the one I saw in my dream. The thing that scared me most was the cold clammy mist and the fear in my belly as I rode. The dream was so regular and so real that I couldn’t forget it even during the day.
            I waited until my brothers had left for town then took the back stairs and made my way out to the barn. I didn’t want Pa to question me. It made me feel like a kid sneaking out when I had no business to. I saddle Chubby and took comfort in the closeness we had. He was solid and reliable and wouldn’t let me down, we’d been through too much together. I left him with Lafe at the livery stable. He’d have Cochise to keep him company but Sport was nowhere to be seen. For a moment I wondered who big brother was visiting tonight, but soon forgot him as I drowned my sorrows in a whisky bottle. I ain’t usually much on whisky but tonight I hoped it would blot out that dadblasted dream.
             I could hear voices but they sounded far away and I felt real sick. I couldn’t see nobody, just the mist, that goldarn mist again. Slowly my senses came back to me and I wished they hadn’t.
            “C’mon Hoss you gotta help yourself a bit. You’re too heavy for us to carry. You gotta get on Chubby by yourself.” Joe’s voice seemed to be inside my head.
            “You’re gonna have to get Adam. I can’t lift him and anyways I need to get home before my Pa comes lookin’ for me. Its almost dawn.” Mitch Devlin’s voice sounded anxious and a mite frustrated.
            “I ain’t going nowhere near Adam. He’d kill me if I fetched him from… well from where he is.” I heard Joe finish.
             I tended to agree with my little brother. Hauling Adam out of bed in the early hours of the morning wasn’t a good idea under any circumstances. Hauling him out of the particular bed where I suspected he’d spent last night was likely to get us both killed. I made a supreme effort and managed to grab a hold of Chubby’s saddle horn. It took several attempts and a lot of pushing and shoving by Joe and Mitch but finally made it into the saddle.
              I don’t recall too much of the ride home but I do remember Pa yellin’ somethin’ awful when we got there. He musta bin pacing the floor all night, ‘cos he was fully dressed. I’d stayed out all night before so I guess it was Joe he was worried about. He sure went on a lot about me and Adam being responsible for our little brother. My head was pounding and I was pleased when he shook his head in exasperation and pointed to the stairs.
            “Go sleep it off.” He growled. “But don’t think you’re missing out on your chores.”
          Joe helped me to my room and then let me collapse on the bed. He pulled off my boots but left me fully dressed and didn’t even put the quilt over me. I don’t remember anything else until I woke up feeling cold and with a sore head. The sun was high in the sky so I guessed I’d slept for maybe seven or eight hours. My head might be hurting but at least I hadn’t dreamed that dadblasted dream again.             I staggered out to the barn, not even stopping by the kitchen. I was feelin’ real sick and didn’t want to see food, let alone eat anything. Now anyone as knows me will tell ya that if I ain’t eatin’ them I’m sick.