WANDERERS. Spring 2017 | Page 13

Then Amos’s gaze found Sam’s, and the wanderer locked eyes with him for a long moment. Amos broke the tension with a chuckle that sounded of rust and dry wells. “Kid? You want something from me?” His voice easily carried over the clanging piano and low murmur of conversation in the rest of the saloon. “Come here, kid.” Sam slid along the bar until he was next to Amos. He doesn’t smell like a man. The thought rose in Sam’s mind, quick as a striking rattlesnake. He smells like… the d esert. He tried to squash that line of thinking, in case Amos could read his thoughts. On the trail, you shall know the truth and the truth will set you free. “How’d you know I wanted something, sir?” Amos shrugged, the movement fluid and powerful despite his ragged appearance. “It was plain enough to anyone with eyes. There’s a question gnawing on you, kid, like a coyote gnawing on a dry bone.” He laughed that rusty chuckle again. “Go on, ask it.” “Sir, there’s—” But Amos cut him off with a wave of a blunt-fingered hand. “Don’t call me ‘sir,’ kid. Just ask your question.” “Alright kid, tell you what. You’re young, got nothing in this town to hold you here.” He held up his hand as Sam opened his mouth. “Yes, I know you’ve got nothing here in this town. I know things, remember? You’ve got a partner who will stick with you no matter what.” He jerked his thumb at Abe. “So, why wouldn’t you go?” Sam opened his mouth, and then closed it again. “If I go, what will I find? Can you see what will happen?” Amos studied the whiskey glass in his hands. “The sun will scorch you,” he said at last, in a deep voice that carried into ev- ery corner of the saloon. “And the rains will drench you. There will be thunder, and ice storms. There will be rivers crawling with snakes and packs of wolves stalking the herd. But you may find something on the trail that can be found nowhere else.” Sam waited. “Truth,” Amos said. “On the trail, you shall know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” He flipped Bill a coin, gathered his dusty coat around himself, and was gone before Sam could say another word. Abe held out a glass of whiskey. “So, partner, what do you say now?” For once there was no mockery in his tone. “Yes or no?” “Let’s take the job,” Sam said. David Ferranti is a sophomore concentrating in Biology. Sam took a deep breath and felt a bead of sweat slide down the back of his neck. “There’s a cattle drive leaving town in three weeks,” he said. “The rancher is offering good money. And I want to—” “You want to know if you should take the job, huh?” “Yes.” Sam caught himself before he could say “sir” this time. “Kid like you, asking an old man like me if he should go on a cattle drive? Most of your lot wouldn’t even bother.” Sam tried to think of a response to that. “Well I heard—” “You heard that Amos here knows things, is that right?” Sam nodded mutely. Amos laughed again, a real laugh this time, not the rusty chuck- le from before. The piano in the back of the saloon was silent. 13