Sheriff of Eldridge County Chapter 2

[CHAPTER 2] — THE SHOWDOWN

Morning

The ranch-style bed and breakfast that Leon Birmingham, the sheriff, called home was run by a very charming couple: Martina Olivia Marzette, whom he called Mom for short, and Dacker Avery Danson, whom he called Dad. The ranch was not very far from the city, on the edge of Eldridge County. The two of them were very nice people and did a wonderful job providing the very best service they could. The place was clean. His clothes were always washed and folded, and the food was always great.

Leon stretched his arms high in the air as he yawned. The welcoming smell of breakfast filled his nose, “bacon, eggs, and pancakes,” he thought. He stretched again and threw the covers off him as he sat up in his bed. “I wonder,” he thought as he began to put on his clothes, “What adventure awaits in town today.”

He strode down the hall and down the stairs. “Mornin, Sheriff!” Mom called as he walked into the kitchen. “Breakfast is ready!”

“Thanks Mom,” Leon replied as he grabbed some bacon and headed toward the door. He snatched up his bag and walked out.

The wagon pulled up shortly after and the horses neighed to a stop. “Morning, Sheriff.” The driver called from his seat. Leon tipped his hat and shrugged, “Morning to you.” he said as climbed into the wagon.

The ride into town was a short one, and before long the wagon stopped in front of the town. Leon hopped out of the wagon, straightened his hat, and pulled his saddle bags over his shoulder. He nodded and tipped his hat to every “He, Sheriff,” and “Morning, Sheriff,” that he was offered as he entered the city. He made his way to the saloon and was met at the door by Earl who had an excited look on his face. “Sheriff!” Earl called!

“Earl,” the Sheriff sighed, “I haven’t had my breakfast yet. Can’t this wait?” The sheriff walked over and took a place in the line waiting to be served.

“Howdy Sheriff. What’ll you have this morning?” Cookie asked when it was Leon’s turn.

“The usual.” The sheriff replied.

“Well now sorry Sheriff.” Cookie said with a sigh, “I am all out of salt pork. I have some hot cereal.”

Leon gazed at Cookie with a stare of disbelief. “Hot cereal,” he sighed under his breath.

“That’s what I am trying to tell you!” Earl clamored and grabbed the Sheriff by his arm.

Leon picked up his food and began walking over to his usual table and stopped dead in his tracks when he looked over and saw Curt and his crew sitting there enjoying a helping of salted pork.

The Sheriff stood there briefly in obvious disbelief as he took in the scene. “Howdy Sheriff.” Curt said with a wry grin accented by the chuckles and snickers of the three members of his bunch, “This salt pork is great. You should have some.” Curt chuckled again, “If they got any left.”

“C’mon Sheriff we can sit with Karl,” Earl said and motioned over to the table where Karla was sitting with a smile.

The Sheriff grudgingly and slowly walked over to Karla’s table and sat down with a noticeable plop in the chair and started to pick over his now cold cereal. “This has gone too far,” he thought and began working on the plan to retake his seat. “I have had enough Earl.” The Sheriff sighed, “I’m not hungry.” The sheriff stood up. “I’m going to the office.”

#

The Sheriff walked into his office and dropped his saddle bags beside his desk. The events of the morning were still on his mind as he tipped his hat over his eyes. The clock chimed out eight times. “Heck of a day already.” He thought as Mr. Farwood, the mad scientist, walked in with his boxes of cups and bottles. The Sheriff and most of the town looked at Mr. Farwood as bizarre because of the magical things he was able to create from his boxes of stuff. Mr. Farwood sat the box down on his desk with a clang and began writing on the old chalk board. “Today class,” Mr. Farwood said as the chalk squeaked across the board, “we will be making invisible ink!” Mr. Farwood turned around and threw his hands in the air and clapped them together.

#

The Sheriff placed his finger over his mouth and motioned for Earl to be quiet. “I know what we need to handle Curt and his bunch is in here somewhere.” he whispered. “We just need to find it, so look everywhere.” Leon and Earl tip-toed through the shabby cabin looking everywhere, in cabinets, under beds and boxes. Leon was rummaging through an old chest when he turned around and found Earl staring in his face holding up a piece of paper. “Egads!” Leon jumped back. “Earl,” the Sheriff shook his head, “What are you doing?”

Earl smiled. “I found it Sheriff,” he said shaking the piece of paper.

Leon took the page from Earl and looked at it with a blank stare. “Earl there is nothing on this.” he said and handed the page back to Earl who took the page and waved it in the Sheriff’s face. “Invisible ink.” Earl said tapping the page.

A light bulb went off in the Sheriff’s mind. “That’s it Earl. Now how do we get the ink to show up again?” the Sheriff asked as he grabbed the page.

“A tincture of alcohol,” Earl said.

“A tincture of alcohol?” the Sheriff asked. “Where do we get that from?”

“The doctor in town should have some,” Earl said.

“Great idea!” the Sheriff bellowed and slapped Earl across his nose.

Earl grabbed his face in disbelief and whimpered, “Why did you hit me?”

“Now don’t you need to see the doctor?” the Sheriff asked? “Now go see the doctor and find out what’s invisible on this page.” The Sheriff turned to walk away. “Meet ya at noon,” he said as he tip-toed out of the shack.

Noon

As was normal for Eldridge city, there was a bustle of activity around the fairgrounds and the town square. The sheriff nodded his head and tipped his hat to all those who greeted him. Karla walked up to him, “Hey, Sheriff.” she said with a smile. “Hey Karla,” the Sheriff replied and nodded his head. Just then the Sheriff heard Earl call his name. He turned to Karla and said, “Pardon me, Karla, I need to be running on.”

“O.k. Sheriff,” she said with smile, “I will save you a seat in the morning.”

The sheriff fumed at the thought of not being in his regular seat tomorrow morning. He sucked his teeth and mumbled, “Thanks Karla.”

The sheriff strode toward Earl who was standing near the watering hole. As he got closer, Curt and his bunch walked directly in front of him. “Howdy der, sheriff.” Curt snickered as he passed. Another of Curt’s bunch walked past the sheriff and chuckled, “Hey, sheriff.” He chuckled again. “Mighty fine breakfast this mornin. See ya tomorrow.”

The sheriff glared at them as they walked past him then continued to where Earl was standing. “Did you get the tincture of alcohol?” he asked.

“I sure did, Sheriff,” Earl replied. “And it worked!” Earl pulled out the page and gave it to the Sheriff.

The sheriff read the page and a grim smile crept across his face. “Earl?” he asked, “Do you know what this means?”

“You found a way to get our table back?” Earl asked with a grin.

“No,” The sheriff said as balled up the paper. “It means that we will never get our back.” Leon said and sucked his teeth. “Curt lives right here in town. There’s only one way we get our table back now,” The Sheriff said walked off with a huff, leaving Earl standing by himself.

Three Hours to Sundown

The corral was busy as usual as the Sheriff walked around the town; his thoughts focused on how to get his morning table back. He spotted a group near the corral that was cheering and laughing. He noticed Earl and Karla among the group of viewers. The sheriff made his way through the crowd and stood next to Earl, and there he was, Curt and his group, in the square battling another group. The sheriff nudged Earl, “Let’s get in the line. We can take them.” He spoke. The Sheriff and Earl walked over and took their place in the line. One after another they watched as Curt and his bunch beat team after team. They were next in line. “Howdy there, Sheriff.” Curt chuckled as Leon and Earl walked into the square. The sheriff sucked his teeth and tightened his fist. “Curt,” he said dryly. He glanced over to Earl. Get ready, his eyes told his friend. Curts fingers twitched, and he rocked back and forth. “Here it comes.” The Sheriff thought.

Curt’s first blow was toward Earl, who narrowly managed to deflect the attack. Earl then swung a heavy hand towards the member of Curt’s bunch and knocked him out of the square. “Nooooo!” Curt roared in disgust. Curt took a swing at Leon and the red ball landed near the edge of his square. Leon dove for the ball, barely able to reach it. He flicked the ball, and it landed directly in front of Earl. “Now Earl!” the Sheriff screamed. Ear raised his fist and hit the ball with all his might. The ball flew toward Curt’s feet, hit his shoe, and bounced high into the air. The crowd watched in amazement as the ball got higher and higher into the air. Curt scrambled back and forth waiting for the ball to come down, and when it did, he swung his arm and slapped the ball back toward the square. The ball rocketed over the Sheriff’s head, landed, and bounced well away from the four-square court. The Sheriff sprang to his feet with a howl of victory, “Great work Earl!” He jumped and shouted and ran over to his friend. They gave each other a loud high five then turned to Curt who was standing wild eyed and alone at the edge of the court. “C’ya in the morning.” The sheriff chuckled and sucked his teeth. The bell rang and the clock chimed fifteen times. The kids all ran and grabbed their bags and lined up for their rides home.

Another day at Eldridge Elementary had come to an end.