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“Courage is in the air in bracing whiffs, better
than all the stalemate ands and ifs.”
1(medium close-up) Buck: What was his name?
lowering his chin, shaking his head slowly, and
staring a hole in Bronson.
2(medium wide shot) Billy, his eyes damp: Jimmy
Dancing Bear; a friend of mine. He held his
long-barreled Colt in his left hand, covering Buck.
Wallace looked worried and weary.
Hop: Let’s scat.
Bronson: Paul; you help your brother down the
street to the Doc’s. Burt, you go with him.
3(sound cue) piano and violins.
The sheriff motioned to the door with the barrel of
his Colt. Buck stepped over the Indian, then
turned back, Adios, Jimmy Dancing Bear. You were
a good man. Be seeing you again one day.
Then he pushed through the red half-doors and left.
Hop, following Buck into the dark: Count ‘em, Billy.
Wallace paused for a moment, staring down at the
Indian, red pulp and pulled pork in a bead shirt.
Then in his arthritic gait he rushed after the others
4(one shot) Cash Bronson stood out on the
boardwalk, struck a match on a pillar, and lit a fat
5(sound cue) banjo and harmonica.
6(three-shot) Paulie struggled out next. He and a
ruffian held Thor up, who was pale from pain and
loss of blood.
7(wide shot) The trembling trio stumbled into the
white dust, making their way toward the Doctor’s.
Cash stood smoking and watching, his arms folded.
8(sound cue) It’s over! someone yelled
9(cut to overhead crane shot) People poured out
of the shadows and alleys between the bank, the
post office, the general store and the Bronson
House Hotel. Folks shuffled around nervously,
talking loudly--their voices echoing back and
forth across the main street.
10(sound cue) banging doors, heavy feet over
violins and accordion.
11(cut to two-shot) Cash and the deputy.
Cash: So what’s the tally, young William?
Billy: I count five, and one badly wounded. A guy
in here tells me they caught Jeb Barnes in a
cross-fire, and he’s over to the Doc’s now. Must
be quite a party.
Bronson smiled: Don’t forget to count the Indian.
He began to walk slowly away, puffing white smoke
against a black sky.
Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub OLN