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    Refugium
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Undertaker's Devil - 6. Apart

Ritter and Samael spend much of the day apart, with the added stress of visitors at Ritter & Ream.

Through the front window, Ritter watched Samael disappear down the street, then walked to his office and sat at his desk in a daze.

His head was still heavy and slow. He muttered, “What have I done?” again and again. Whispered imaginings harried his brain — the sounds of gossip, derision, repugnance. They grew louder and circled toward the center. Finally he screamed at them, “Shut up!”

He looked at the breakfast still on his desk, barely touched. He set his plate of potatoes down, brought a forkful of potato to his mouth and chewed it slowly, then tried another. It did help settle his stomach and head. Sammy knew what he was talking about. Sammy did this kind thing for him, even when he was angry enough to walk out. He should be here now. Things would be better if he were here now.

Ritter realized how much he hated the thought of never seeing Sammy again. Right now, I would do anything he wanted, if he would just come back.

Then he laid his head on the desk, closed his eyes, and said softly, “Please come back. Please come back. Please come back.”

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

Ream arrived about noon, his usual time if not his usual day. He surveyed the breakfast wreckage and Ritter asleep at his desk.

“Andy!” Ritter woke with a jerk. “You look like you lost a fight with a boa constrictor.”

“Bill,” Ritter croaked. “It’s Sunday. Take a day off.”

“Just a social call. We’re still friends, aren’t we?”

“Not if you’re going to talk so loud,” Ritter said, pushing himself up to stand.

“You been tying one on, Andy?”

“G.A.R. meeting last night.”

“Gotcha. I see you managed to make breakfast, even if you didn’t quite get around to eating it.”

Ritter grunted.

“No Sammy today?”

Ritter took a deep breath. “No. I don’t know where he is.”

Ream shrugged. “Just as well. You got along without him once, you can get along without him again.”

Ritter rubbed his temples. “No.”

After a moment, Ream said, “No, what?”

“No, I can’t get along without him.”

“Andy, if you need some help with the work, we can hire someone.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Now, wait a minute, Andy. We discussed this.”

“Yes, we did. I tried to keep it on a business basis. I failed.”

Ream shook his head. “Andy, Andy. How much trouble are we in? What did you do? Is he going to blackmail you?”

“No, nothing like that.” Ritter rubbed his face. “What do you want from me, Bill?”

“What do I want from you? I want you to take your rightful place in town. I want you to be equal with the other men who run this little burg. You could be respected. But not if you throw it away.”

“It’s not worth it without Sammy,” Ritter said evenly.

“What?”

“If Sammy’s not here, it’s not worth being respectable.”

“Andy. You’ve known him a few weeks. This is a passing fancy. You’ll get over it.”

“I don’t want to get over it. I don’t want to be half-dead anymore.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to publish it in the newspaper. But if Sammy will have me, I’m not going to turn him away.”

“You’re my best friend and I won’t stand by while you wreck your life.”

“If there’s no Sammy, there’s no life to wreck.”

“You’re talking crazy.”

“I have to go find him. He can’t have gotten far.”

As Ritter began to walk to the front, both men heard the door open and Ream followed his partner to see who it was.

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

Samael walked down deserted Allen Street. Shops were closed and churches were full. Shop windows provided a few minutes’ distraction, but he wanted nothing to do with churches.

He walked west through town and north to the cemetery. There he stood in front of the hastily-assembled grave markers of the McLaury brothers and Billy Clanton. “Hey, Billy,” he said. “I’m sorry you died because of me. Andy says it wasn’t because of me, but I can’t help thinking it was. He’s a good man. But he’s not like you. You were never afraid. He is. I don’t know what to do about it.”

He sat down and thought of nothing for a long time.

Samael shook his head and looked around at the rocks, the bare ground, the few scrubby plants. “Not a very pretty place you picked to move to, Billy,” he said. “Not even any flowers.” He stood and looked around at the graves. “No flowers on the graves, either. I wish I had flowers for Andy. Flowers and chocolates. I could court him if I had something to give him. I could ask him to be my feller.” Then, on a half-dead bush, he noticed a few tiny white flowers, blooming out of season. He bent to examine them. Finally he said, “I guess you’ll have to do,” and picked them. “Chocolates will have to wait till the stores are open tomorrow.”

Samael slowly made his way back through town. He stopped in Hoptown, Tombstones Chinatown, in front of the Can Can Restaurant. Billy used to eat here all the time, he thought. Billy had introduced Samael to Mr. Quong, who ran the restaurant, and to his friend China Mary, who ran the town. At least, she brokered most of the Chinese labor in town and took a cut, and ran several businesses, legal and not so legal. She was a shrewd businesswoman, but also was kind-hearted to anyone in need. Samael stared into the window, remembering.

He was roused by China Mary’s familiar voice calling him. “Sammy!” He turned to see her smiling. She hugged him as if he were a long-lost nephew. Then she pulled back with a look of concern. “Billy. Sorry.” She hugged him again. “You work for Ike?”

“No, not any more.”

“You work for me! My house! Men pay for you!”

Samael blushed. He knew the type of house she meant. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You keep half!”

“Really, I don’t think so.”

“You keep three-quarter?”

“Mary, I got a job. At Ritter and Ream, the undertakers.”

China Mary tilted her head, looking at Samael’s little flowers. “New fella already?”

“Maybe.”

“You work fast! Good-looking?”

“I think so.”

“Rich?”

Samael ducked his head and grinned. “You don’t just come out and ask a question like that.”

“Why? Money is important.”

“All I know is, I like him. I don’t know if he likes me near as much.”

China Mary squinted at him. “Undertaker?”

Samael blushed again.

China Mary nodded knowingly. “Andy!”

“Mary, it is no use trying to hide anything from you.”

“No! No use!” She laughed. “Good men, Andy.”

“I wish I was good enough for him.”

“You make him happy? Good enough.”

“I don’t know how to make him happy. The flowers don’t seem like much now that I look at them.”

“Sammy. For girl — flower, candy, pearl, diamond, gold. For men, you make him happy.” She laughed, raised her eyebrows, and leaned in. “You know. Happy.”

“You make it sound real simple.”

“Uh-huh. Men is simple. Men see, men like, men want. Andy want you?”

“He wants me, but…”

“So no worry. Just a matter of time.”

Samael smiled. “Just a matter of time, huh?”

China Mary laughed again. “Uh-huh. Go. Make him happy.” She gave him a push eastward toward his destination.

Unreasonably encouraged, Samael stumbled forward.

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

Ritter pulled himself erect to greet his guest. “Sheriff,” he nodded.

“Sheriff Behan,” Ream echoed. “What brings you here on a Sunday?”

John Behan removed his hat and smoothed it. He took a breath and let it out. “Just, uh, following up. I understand that boy Sam who was working at the Clanton ranch is staying here.”

Ritter opened his mouth, but Ream answered first. “Well, he was. Is he in trouble of some kind?”

“Trouble? No, nothing like that. You know the hearing is still going on, calling all kinds of witnesses. Never knew a preliminary hearing to go on so long. I’d like to ask him a few questions, see what he knows. I don’t think he was a witness to the actual shooting, but I have to ask. Is he here?”

Ritter stepped forward. “No, he took off this morning. I don’t know where he is.”

“Well, will he be back?”

“I don’t know. I think so. I hope so. I mean, he still has his things here, I expect he’ll come back some time—”

Samael entered and saw the suddenly crowded room. “Sheriff?”

Behan turned. “You must be Sam. Samuel Higgins, right?”

“It’s Samael, but yes, I’m Sam.”

“I’d like to ask you a few questions about the events of a couple of weeks ago. Do you want to go someplace private?”

“No, Mister Ritter and Mister Ream can hear anything I have to say.”

“All right. Did you see the shootout?”

Samael fiddled with his bunch of tiny graveyard flowers. “No, sir. I was at the ranch.”

“Did you hear anything said about it, before or after?”

“Billy said there was trouble, there was gonna be a fight, and he had to go. I didn’t want him to, but he said he had to. Didn’t say anything more than that. And then afterward, Mister Ike came back to the ranch and fired me.”

“Why did he do that?”

Samael looked at the ceiling for a moment. “I guess he thinks I’m bad luck.” His gaze shifted out the window, and he started moving toward the back of the store.

“That’s about what I thought.” Behan sighed. “Just to let you know, you might be called as a witness at the hearing.”

“Can I go, Sheriff?”

“Sure, Sam, I’m really just here to let you know.”

“Thank you, sir.” Samael slipped into the back of the store.

The door opened and in came Ike Clanton. Ritter moved to block the passageway into which Samael had disappeared.

“Ike,” Behan acknowledged.

“Sheriff Behan. I thought I saw you in here.”

“What can I do for you, Ike?”

“Got a bone to pick with you, Johnny.”

“Don’t you always.” Behan brushed off his hat, put it on, and turned to leave.

“I hear you told Virgil Earp that he done the exact right thing. That true?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Meanwhile, he took a bullet to the leg and you don’t have a scratch on you, so how about if we let the law take its course and confine the arguing to the courtroom?”

“I would have thought you’d have a little more spine, at least against Wyatt after he stole your wife.”

Behan tensed visibly. “You have no idea why so many people hate you, do you?”

“Because I tell it the way it is? Here Wyatt is saying the shootout was all your fault for telling him that my boys was all disarmed, which don’t make no sense at all, since if they thought we was disarmed why would they still be coming for us? And you’re still on their side?”

“I’m not on anybody’s side, Ike. Virgil is a US Marshall and he deputized all the other men, including Wyatt. Wyatt was representing the law.”

Clanton’s laugh could have poisoned a river. “Wyatt, a lawman? Virgil, maybe. But Wyatt? The Peoria Bummer? He’s a horse thief, a pimp and an easy rider, is what he is. Other than living off a whore, he’s never had a livelihood he didn’t get set up in by his daddy or one of his brothers. My, how he has come up in the world! From bouncer at his brother Jim’s whorehouse to lawman, thanks to Virgil.”

“Now, Ike, you got his bail revoked, the hearing is proceeding, time to drop back and let the court handle it.”

Clanton snorted. “Don’t matter. When the easy money runs out, he’ll pull up stakes and look for a cushy situation in some other town, like he always does. Wichita, Dodge, Tombstone or Timbuktu, don’t matter to him, as long as he’s got cash and he don’t actually have to work. Must be nice, having all those brothers to look out for him. Maybe I should call my brother Phin into this. Cuz you may have noticed, I’m one brother down after recent events. One brother murdered for no reason.”

Behan brushed past him and opened the door. He called over his shoulder, “You never know when to stop talking, do you, Ike?” and slammed the door behind him.

Clanton turned to address Ritter and his partner. “What did he want here?”

Ream put himself between Clanton and Ritter. “He just wanted to ask some questions. Sheriff’s business.”

“Was he looking for that boy Sam?”

Ream hesitated. “Maybe. Come on, Ike, let’s go outside and cool off.” He put an arm around Clanton’s shoulder and guided him to the door.

Clanton turned his head back to Ritter. “That boy is bad news. You should have that figured out by now.” Then he allowed himself to be led out to the street.

Ritter locked the front door and went in search of Samael, who stood in the back hallway. “They’re gone, Sammy.”

Samael looked at the floor. “I brought you these flowers. I know they’re so small you can hardly see them. They were on a bush that was almost dead, but there it was, blooming, so late in the year…”

He felt Ritter’s body smash into him and his arms wrap around him. Ritter kissed his mouth, his cheek, his neck, his temple. “You scared me,” Ritter said.

“You scare too easy,” Samael whispered.

“I didn’t know if you’d come back. I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t.”

“I’ll do everything you want if you’ll just stay. All the vile, immoral things you said. I’ll even fall asleep with you and wake up with you.”

“I thought you wanted to be a solid citizen. Respectable.”

“I thought I did, too.”

“I thought you were afraid of what other people think.”

“Oh, I am. I’m terrified. I’m more terrified of losing you.”

“But the things we would be doing are bad.”

Ritter sucked hard on Samael’s throat. “Completely. They’re evil.”

Samael grabbed Ritter’s head and pulled him in. “You bet.”

Ritter rubbed Samael’s cock. “Immoral.”

Samael returned the favor. “Damn right.”

Ritter swirled his tongue around Samael’s chin. “Illicit.”

Samael’s eyes rolled up. “Whatever that is.”

Ritter grabbed Samaels ass. “Deplorable.”

Samael joined his hands behind Ritter’s neck. “I like the sound of that.”

Ritter bucked into Samaels crotch. “Wicked.”

Samael’s feet left the floor. “And how.”

Ritter lifted him. “Iniquitous.”

Samael wrapped his legs around Ritter. “Huh?”

“I give in. I surrender. I yield my soul. Now let’s see if an old man can carry you.” Ritter staggered to the doorway of Samael’s makeshift bedroom.

“But the bad things I want — you want them too, right?”

Ritter set Samael down. “More than I can say.” They kissed deeply, holding each other tightly.

Ritter turned Samael to face the wall, grinding into his backside. “I swear you’re a devil sent to tempt me,” he said, biting Samael’s neck.

“I think you’re a devil sent to tempt me,” Samael replied.

“You don’t know what it’s like, seeing you every day, you demon.”

“My mama said I was her little angel.”

“Huh,” Ritter scoffed. “Fallen angel, maybe. How can you be an angel and want to engage in such depravity?”

“Because I love you.”

Ritter froze. He whispered tenderly, “You would besmirch the word love by associating it with the sordid things we’re contemplating? How can you put such blasphemous thoughts in my head? I refer of course to the preposterous idea that I love you too?”

Samael turned his head. “Do you?”

Ritter’s chest heaved. “Do I?! Oh, Sammy, you’ll be the unmaking of me. Such a beautiful man, possessed of such a wicked spirit. I believe I must perform an exorcism.”

“A what?”

“A ritual to cast out the demon in your soul.”

“A ritual! Now just how do you plan to do that, Reverend?”

Ritter reached around to unbutton Samael’s trousers and slip off his suspenders. “I’m going to fuck the Hell out of you.”

I have taken historical liberties in writing Ike Clanton's diatribe against Wyatt Earp. From what I have read, the real Ike Clanton never spoke so truthfully or coherently in his life. To be fair, Wyatt Earp's service on the Wichita police force was well-regarded.
Next: Samael's peculiar talents blossom.
Copyright © 2023 Refugium; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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