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Blackthorne
Episode 115
Boil
“My experimentation with cinematic poetics has
come full circle. I have been successful at merging
the two arts, but it occurred to me last night that
what really matters to my readership is the actual
narrative, not the filming techniques. So from this
episode onward I’ll present the prose straight up.”
Buck looked up and saw Paul Bronson in the middle
of the stairs with his arms around two saloon whores.
He was drunk. Do you still want to buy my horse?
He cackled and choked and coughed.
Buck moved three steps closer to Thor. The big
Indian had his rifle at the ready.
Buck: Where’s Cash?
Paul: He’s out to the ranch. What the hell do you want
with him?
Buck: I’ve got business with him
Thor: Really? I thought your big pow-wow was
supposed to be tomorrow: being caustic, stepping
away from the bar, flexing his right hand, his .38
moving on his hip like a part of him
Buck: Things have changed.
Thor, smiling: We heard about this ruckus you had
out at your place. So what happened out there?
Buck: I think you know what happened.
Thor: No, all we heard is third hand gossip a couple
of hours ago.
Buck, setting his jaw: The Sheriff is out there as we
speak. He figures someone hired it done.
Thor: Do tell. Do you have any enemies?
Buck: Yeah...a couple.
There was an awkward taunt silence.
Thor: Uh-huh, so just what are you trying to say?
Buck: I think you had something to do with sending
those men to bushwhack us.
Thor: Well...that is quite an accusation. He put his
hands on his hips, and began to speak louder: Now,
let me get this straight. You come in here, without a
shred of proof, and you’re bristling to tangle, to take
the law into your own hands?
Buck, his eyes narrowing: Eat shit, hardcase,
you’ve been begging for this...and now you got
it. So let’s cut out the preamble and get to it.
Everyone in the saloon stood up, with a great
shuffling of chairs and scraping of boots, but no
one spoke.
Indian: Buck...cool your anger. Do not forget
what we came for.
Buck blinked and sucked in a big breath. The
sweat from his forehead stung his eyes. The
bullet gash on his temple now scabbed over,
swollen up and throbbing. He chewed his lower
lip, staring into the ink-black eyes of Thor
Bronson, his own Thunderer ready to match
powder with a Lightning Colt.
Buck: Where is Ramos?
Thor, shaking the cramp out of his right hand:
Ramos? How the hell should I know? Turning to
the crowd hugging the walls. Has anyone seen that
scruffy-assed Ramos here tonight?
No one stirred. No one answered. The Indian
scanned the short guard on his left, the two men
still standing at the bar, and Paul on the stairs, who
was now sitting down, hanging on to a soiled
petticoat with one hand, and sipping from his thin
silver flask.
Buck: He was seen coming in here not thirty
minutes ago.
Paul, from the stairs: Someone must be mistaken.
That poor bastard doesn’t get around so good any
more. He rarely goes out at night.
Buck: You fellas are running out of rope. Just tell
me where that slimy sonofabitch is.
Thor: Are you calling my brother a liar? his forced
smile fading, his right hand beginning to hover over
his Colt again.
Buck: Oh, I could call him a lot more than that.
Paul pushed a laugh.
Indian: There’s twenty men out in the street backing
our play. He stepped away from Buck, his Winchester
cocked at the level.
Thor: I think you owe my little brother an apology .
Glenn Buttkus
Posted over at d'Verse Poets Pub OLN
10 comments:
I love the tension... though I do miss the sound-effect... but I keep waiting for the narrative each week... I think the Bronson's had this coming a long time. Still I had hoped they would be brought to real justice and rot in jail.
Nice build up of the tension.
I agree that it is easier to read without the cinematic details. The narrative stands out better and I can see more clearly who is speaking what lines.
I hope you still write it with the cinematic effects but post an edited version here at dVerse also. Or post both and let the reader choose. I like the effects part of it. You never know when this is going to be discovered and made into a movie.
The tension is unbearable! Blast that MOFO! He's a cancer on the community. The whole town hates his guts except for his paid lackeys -- and they probably hate him too!
you capture the Western very well in your writing! I feel like I am back watching Black and White TV again. I like your new format!
I am a bit conflicted now, endeavoring to think outside the box. Perhaps for those who have stayed with this saga for years, they have accepted the cinematic form, and the "movie" plays out clearly in their minds. That is, of course what I hoped for when I invented this form (Cinemagenics). So let's consider this episode an anomaly, and we'll snap back to the screenplay mode for the next episode. I have to admit, it was hard for me to leave the effects out.
I think we're all agreed: can the room hold any more tension?
I'm conflicted about the effects too...this is easier to read, and yet something is lost.
I must admit, I’ll miss the filming techniques, Glenn, but I do love the narrative! I love the way you characterise Bronson – it seems only right that he’d have his arms around two saloon whores, and the use of onomatopoeia in the list of three ‘cackled and choked and coughed’ is perfect. I can hear him. The dialogue is electric, as is the atmosphere in the saloon! It was a good job he had the Indian with him.I agree with Dwight, it's like watching black and white TV again!
Ah, I have been away too long so will have to look back on the filming techniques but the dialogue creates the tension and sense of characters. A Magnificent Seven Moment.
The dialogue paints the scene well, but reading your original style literally transports me into your work. I really enjoyed the chance to sample the difference.
Greatt read thankyou
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