I’m Just a Science Teacher, Not a Sheriff

Ellen Pas opens her door, trying to shoo away the drone as if it was a bug. The drone evades her attack, depositing a package on the lawn. Checking to see if it’s ticking, she brings it inside.

Paxton Pas stares at the return address on the box. “Do we know anybody in Paradise Valley, Nevada?”

“Well, are you going to open it or are you going to use your x-ray vision to see what’s inside?”

Reaching for the box, she opens it.

Inside the standard cardboard box is a wooden box.

“Whoever sent this has a twisted sense of humor,” Ellen comments. “So that excludes your fellow science teachers.”

Carved into the lid of the handmade box is a scene of two gunfighters facing off in the street. Inside the box are a gun, a badge, a photograph, and a feather.

Paxton holds up the gun. It’s see-through, with no visible moving parts.

“Hmm… A toy space gun,” Ellen says. “What kind of feather is this?”

“An eagle feather. It’s supposed to bring good luck.”

“I’m sure the eagle would disagree,” Ellen replies, picking up the picture. “Wow, fire the photographer. This picture is really blurry. Do you recognize this woman?”

“No, but judging by the way she’s dressed, I’d say it was taken in the 1880s.”

“Well, somebody thought this stuff would mean something to you. I’m going to check the U.S. Mail. I’m sure there are some meaningful bills waiting to be paid.”

Ellen pets Elmer, their cat, as she leaves the study. Jumping up on the desk, Elmer swats at the feather.

“Leave that alone, you fur-bearing fleabag,” Paxton scolds. Picking up the feather, he puts it in his bushy hair.

Paxton picks up the gun, playfully pointing it at Elmer.

“Say your prayers, you felonious feline.”

He pulls the trigger. A beam of light shoots from the gun. Elmer disappears with a surprised “meow.”

“Yikes! Well, I never did like that lazy critter.”

Reaching into the box, Paxton pins the badge to his shirt.

Looking at himself in the full-length mirror, Paxton poses like a gunfighter, pointing his gun at his reflection.

A flash of blinding light forces him to close his eyes.

“They sent you?” a woman’s twangy voice asks.

Opening his eyes, Paxton finds himself in a different room.

Paxton gapes at the short, zaftig woman, who is dressed in long pants, a blue denim shirt, and a wide-brimmed cowboy hat.

“So, you’re the new Sheriff, “ she says. “You ain’t what I expected. Kinda skinny. No muscles. You need muscles ‘round here. And jumpin’ Jehoshaphat, those glasses are mighty thick. Can you shoot with them things on?”

“How did I get here?”

“You put on the badge,” the woman replies. “You from the future or the past?”

“What year is it?”

“1888.”

“A hundred thirty-four years in the future. And where am I?”

“Paradise Valley, a minin’ town with a little over a hundred folks. Used to have five times that, but we’ve had a lot of deaths recently. And by the by, you been sent to save us.”

“You seem to know a lot about me,” Paxton says.

“Not you, your mission. I guess you could say I’m your guide. I helped the last two sheriffs try to kill Mauvais.”

“Mauvais?”

“He’s the leader of the Largato. They come to steal our silver.”

“So, call the law.”

“I did. And here you are.”

“I’m a science teacher, not a sheriff. I don’t even know how to shoot a gun, although I did accidentally vaporize our cat before I came here.”

“See, you’re learnin’ quick. Just so ya know, the Lagarto killed the last two sheriffs who tried to stop their minin’ operation.”

“Why me?”

“You was picked. It all started about a year ago when Wheezer Pickens came ridin’ into town sayin’ some lizards had jumped his claim.”

“Lizards?”

“Yeah, the Lagarto are seven-foot lizards. Anyway, this man shows up soon after, sayin’ he knows how to kill the lizards. He said he and the Lagarto are from the future, and we thought, well, why not? We’d never seen nothin’ like them lizards or him before.”

“What was so different about him?” Paxton asks.

“He was eight feet tall, and his skin was gold.”

“Called himself Goldfinger, did he?”

“Huh? No, Ander. He had a strange gun; the same one you’re holdin’. Ander took over when the sheriff was killed. He led a group of us to the mine. We killed a dozen lizards. One of ‘em wounded Ander pretty bad. He’d already showed me what to do in case he was killed, so I put his gun in a box and said the right words that would send it on to the next man. Jobe Cooley was our last sheriff. He said he lived during something called ‘the Depression’, that even the prospect of gettin’ killed here was better than livin’ there.”

“I take it he’s dead.”

“Yep. The lizards was raidin’ the town once or twice a week. They’d take whatever they wanted and kill whoever got in their way. Jobe caught a bunch of ‘em tryin’ to steal horses from the livery and shot it out with ‘em. He got three with that gun before one snuck up behind him and killed him. He’d told me just the day before that if he was killed, you was to get the box.”

“Of all times to win a lottery…”

“Ander had said you was part of the town’s history. The most important part.”

“So, the outcome has already been decided.”

“At least in Ander’s history book.”

“It would be nice to know if we win.”

“My mama said we make our own history,” Kate replies.

“She was a wise woman.”

“Yeah, she was. She was killed the first time the Lagartos raided the livery stable. Now I run it. Name’s Katerina Rosemenko Federov, but everybody calls me Kate.”

Exhaling heavily, Paxton sits down behind a desk. “This is a lot to unpack. Can I count on the townspeople for help?”

“The brave ones are dead. You can count on me, Sheriff. I can shoot the eyes out of a prairie dog at fifty paces.”

“Then I suggest you join a wild west show. I’m going back to my classroom.”

Paxton taps at his badge. “How does this thing work?”

“It’ll send you back to your time when you kill Mauvais and his lizards. Otherwise, it’s a one-way ticket.”

“Fine. I’ll talk to the Lagarto.”

Kate laughs. “They don’t talk to us, they kill us. We’re nothin’ to them, no more than flies on a burrow’s butt. Mauvais makes all their demands. But you might as well try and talk to Satan himself. In fact, the townsfolk are certain he’s the devil.”

“Has he got red skin, horns, and a tail?”

“So, you’ve seen him,” Kate replies.

The door darts open. A skinny man with a dark, full beard rushes in.

“There’s two of ‘em comin’, Kate.”

“They’ll be tryin’ to get at my horses.”

The man looks up at Paxton, noticing the feather in his hair.

“He don’t look like a Shawnee.”

Kate grabs a hat from the coat rack. Plucking out the feather, she puts it in the hat, slamming it on Paxton’s head. “He ain’t no Indian, Tudor. This here’s Sheriff Paxton Pas. And guess what Tudor? He just made me a deputy.”

“Well, la-de-da,” Tudor teases. “The west’s first gal deputy. Too bad you might set a record for the shortest length of service too.”

Kate grabs a shotgun from the gun rack. “Not if I can help it. Let’s go, Sheriff. You comin’, Tudor?”

“With all due respect to the newly appointed authorities of the law, I need to wet my whistle before goin’ into battle,” Tudor says, backing out of the office.

“What did you say his name was?”

“It’s a mouthful. Tudor Esselinkpas. He’s a good horse breeder when the liquor ain’t in him. Might push him down the aisle someday.”

Kate reaches in the desk. Finding a blood-stained deputy’s badge, she proudly pins it to her shirt.

Paxton and Kate move up the dusty street. Paxton gazes up at the rough wooden two-story buildings, squinting from the glare of the roasting sun.

A crowd of scruffy, curious townspeople gather behind them.

Turning to face them, Kate says, “This is your new Sheriff, Paxton Pas. He’s barely here an hour and he’s already willin’ to risk his life to protect you.”

“…Well, not exactly…”

“Shush. Who’s gonna stand with us?”

The procession halts. Paxton and Kate scan the petrified, hollow-eyed crowd.

A heavyset man in a rumpled black suit says, “We’d be more inclined if we could be surer of the outcome.”

“Thanks, Mayor Boulware.”

“We seen this matinee before,” a slim cowboy with a handlebar mustache says.

“You too, Hugh Horne? I would think the best wrangler in the territory and a former blue belly would show some sand.”

“Lady, I fought at Gettysburg. I seen a thousand men die in one day. I thought I seen the devil do his worst on that battlefield. Then Mauvais came here and proved me wrong.”

Two giant lizards with light green skin pointed heads and wide red eyes ride toward them. Their horses appear to be made of steel and gleam against the bright sun.

In between the lizards, slapping at his horse is the devil.

His eight-foot, muscular, crimson-colored body is adorned with tattoos and symbols. His pointed chin juts out in defiance, and his stark white teeth are grit together in anger. Two long, pointed horns jut from his skull, but it’s his eyes, yellow, bottomless, and lifeless that make Paxton reach for his gun.

“Why do they want horses? They already have better ones.”

“They’re hungry,” Kate replies. “Of course, if they kill us, they’ll eat us too. You still think we can parlay with the devil?”

The riders pull up a few feet away.

Mauvais’ dead stare slices through Paxton. His voice booms. “It is futile to try and defeat me.”

“I’m just a science teacher.”

The two lizards laugh so hard they nearly fall off their saddles.

“You and your kind are finished here, Mauvais,” Kate says.

“You Terrans are always brave up until the second before you are vaporized,” Mauvais replies.

Mauvais pulls out a gun that looks identical to Paxton’s.

Screaming, the townspeople scatter.

Two young boys remain in the street, shivering as they hold each other. Their mother calls out to them, but they’re unable to move.

“You wouldn’t,” Paxton says.

Mauvais presses the trigger of his gun, vaporizing the two boys.

Kate screams “…Son of a…!” Her last word is cut off as she blasts one of the lizards from his saddle.

Surprised by the noise, the second lizard’s horse rears up as he fires at Paxton. The laser beam from his gun burns a black line in the sand, singeing Paxton’s shoes.

Paxton fires at the second lizard. The beam hits the lizard between the eyes, vaporizing him.

Kate points her shotgun at Mauvais. “Looks like we got the drop on the devil.”

Mauvais laughs. “You amuse me, Terran. You have stood against me once before…”

“You killed my mother.”

“Yes, a spirited Terran like you. She was delicious.”

Kate raises the shotgun.

“Wait!” Paxton yells. “Maybe we can come to an agreement.”

Mauvais looks down at Kate. “I know you Terrans have the capacity for something called humor…”

“I’m not joking. I’m sure the townspeople would be willing to give you several mines as long as you leave in peace.”

“I will leave them in pieces! The mines are just the beginning. We are extracting the substance you call silver for fuel. When we return home, we will have enough fuel to bring our population here to occupy this planet.”

“Ask him what he’s going to do with us,” Kate says.

“The healthy ones will be our workforce. The rest will be consumed.”

“Not as long as I can draw a breath,” Kate says, firing the shotgun.

Mauvais holds up his left palm. The bullets stop in mid-air, then fall harmlessly to the ground.

Paxton raises his gun, aiming for Mauvais’ head. Pressing the trigger, he watches the beam dissipate before it reaches Mauvais.

“A force field,” Paxton realizes.

Mauvais spies Mayor Boulware peeking out of the doorway of the saloon.

“You! Mayor! Bring me two horses, now!”

“Anybody who makes a move toward my livery stable will be blown apart like that ugly lizard layin’ the dirt,” Kate warns.

Mayor Boulware glances at the horses tied to the hitching post outside of the saloon.

“Hal Summers, Billy Bixby, I’m gonna need your horses. I’ll see you get new ones.”

“Yeah, if we live long enough,” Bixby replies.

Bixby pushes Summers toward the horses. Known for his prowess with a knife, the portly cowboy reaches for his weapon, but Bixby pushes his hand back down.

“Ain’t worth gettin’ blasted into dust is it, Hal?”

“Spider’s been a good horse, saved my life twice. He deserves better than bein’ turned into grub.”

Bixby leads his horse to Mauvais, cautiously offering him the reigns. Summers follows with Spider, but drops the reigns on the ground, spitting a wad of tobacco juice at Mauvais.

Mauvais waves his right hand. Summers combusts. Flames envelop his body as screams and collapses to the ground.

“Insolence is not bravery,” Mauvais declares. “One way or another Sheriff, I will tattoo your name on my skin the next time I come back.”

Turning away, Mauvais leads the horses out of town.

“Maybe you should feel honored,” Hugh says. “He only tattoos the names of the victims he respects on his skin.”

“Funny, I don’t feel honored. Hugh, if you and the others don’t help me, how long do you think it’ll be before Mauvais tattoos your name on his skin or vaporizes the whole town? I need leverage, a way to defeat him.”

Mayor Boulware scratches the stubble on his chin. “There’s nobody else in Mauvais’ clan like him. Nobody with that kind of power. Nobody that’s got a shield to protect him.”

“He ain’t afraid of nothin’,” Hugh adds.

“He was afraid of Ander,” Kate recalls. “When Mauvais had him trapped, he couldn’t touch Ander. He couldn’t kill him. He had the lizards do it.”

“So, what made Ander so special?” Paxton asks.

“Him and Mauvais are from the same neighborhood,” Mayor Boulware says.

“That’s right, Ander told me they were from the same part of their planet,” Kate remembers. “Ander said his family and Mauvais ruled the planet together, and the lizards was their servants. But there’s been bad blood betwixt ‘em for centuries.”

“So, they brought their private war here,” Paxton says.

Kate’s eyes brighten. “Gold! It was ‘cause Ander’s skin was gold. Ander said if Mauvais touched him, he’d lose his power.”

“So, what are we gonna do the next time Mauvais comes to town?” Hugh asks. “We gonna show the devil our gold teeth?”

Paxton snickers. “Something like that.”

Mauvais rides toward town at the head of a troop of a dozen lizards.

Paxton stands alone at the end of Main Street, his hand poised above his laser gun.

The snorting steeds pull up in the center of town. Mauvais slides off his horse, gliding toward Paxton.

“Is this really the way you want to die? Pointlessly fricasseed in the street?”

“What makes you so sure I’m the one who’s going to die? I’m a science teacher! Just one small favor, Mauvais… Could you move ten feet closer? I’m sure you want this to be a fair fight. I don’t see very well.”

Huffing, Mauvais steps forward.

Paxton and Mauvais reach for their ray guns.

Paxton drops to the ground. Rolling away, he hides behind a stack of crates. The laser beam from Mauvais’ gun scorches the ground he’d been standing on.

Popping up from behind the crates, Paxton fires at Mauvais.

Mauvais laughs heartily as the blast harmlessly dissipates when it hits his protective shield.

Paxton fires a second blast above Mauvais’ head.

“Your eyes and your aim are both poor, Sheriff. Is it because your hand is shaking?”

The ropes holding the dry goods sign above Mauvais’ head snap. The sign swings sideways, hitting Mauvais on the side of the head. Stunned, Mauvais drops to his knees, keeling over.

Paxton shouts, “Now, Deputy!”

Hiding on the roof of the dry goods store, Kate, Tudor, and Hugh move a caldron to the edge of the building, pushing it over. A stream of molten gold pours over Mauvais’ body.

Mauvais screams as his body begins to dissolve.

All that remains of Mauvais is the image of his massive body burned into the sand.

“Your master is dead!” Paxton shouts. “Now it’s your turn!”

The windows of the buildings above the surprised lizards open up. A fusillade of bullets cuts half of them down. The remaining Lagarto speed away in retreat.

Kate, Tudor, and Hugh rush from the roof to join the townspeople mobbing Paxton.

“Before I leave, I wanted to say thanks for your show of bravery.”

Removing the feather, Paxton tosses his hat and gun to Kate.

“I hope you’ll all support Kate as your new Sheriff,” he says, tapping his badge.

Ellen rushes into the study.

“Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you for the past ten minutes! I can’t find Elmer either. We have an important decision to make.”

She holds up two menus.

“Chinese of Italian?”

Paxton puts the feather back in the box, picking up the photograph.

The once blurry image is now clear.

“Kate,” he says, recognizing the woman.

He turns the photo over, reading the inscription. “Katarina Rosemenko Federov Esselinkpas. First female Sheriff, Paradise Valley, 1889.”

“Did you figure out who the woman in the picture is?”

“It’s my great-grandmother.”