Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Chapter One: The Bet

Charles Peterson fixed his gaze on the two-story clapboard gaming hall and saloon known as Lucy's. Located halfway between the San Juan mines and Pagosa Springs, Lucy's always attracted a colorful set of characters. At ten in the morning, however, Charles didn't figure he'd find too may folks lingering around, but he had a few hours to kill before he was expected on the mountain and Lucy's was as good as any place to order up a cup of coffee. He trotted up the three steep steps to the spit-stained boardwalk and swung open the heavy oak doors to the saloon.

As Charles entered, he smelled the musty odor of old smoke sticking to the barstools and beer-drenched tables. He noticed a couple of drunks along the far wall slouched over what he could only imagine was coffee. He wondered why they were still there. He knew Vera would never allow them past six. Maybe she's playing, he thought hopefully. Sure that something was amiss, Charles ambled past a few dirty tables and kicked open the door that led to the gambling hall. As he walked toward the private lounge, he could hear fits of laughter reverberating off the pine planks of the hallway. Then he heard what could only be the deep, coarse growl of Judge Henry Dugan.

"He's a liar! He's a liar, I tell ya! Dead to rights. There's no way. No way."

Charles reluctantly opened the door and peered into the thick, dank smoke. There in the middle of the floor, in a drunken stupor, lay the body of Cus Dayton. He was laughing and with him the rest of the room; Vera Black, Jacob Sorrentino, Cole McBride, Sally Forester, and Miguel Lopez. Only Henry wasn't at that very moment doubled over fighting to catch his breath. Charles thought Sally was going to pass out if she didn't watch herself and Jacob was almost there himself.

"Chuck," yelled a progressively more animated Henry. "You be the judge. There ain't no way. I got fifty bucks he can't do it."

"Do what?" asked Charles, a tad perplexed yet intrigued at the wildness of the scene.

Vera Black was the first to catch her breath and, as she wiped the sweat from her pale forehead, she yelled as if no one would be able to hear her if she didn't. "A handstand! A cotton-pickin' handstand!" As the words escaped her mouth she exploded again into another fit of laughter. Miguel, too, exploded and fell off his chair clutching his stomach.

"You make it a hundred, old man," cried the drunken Mexican, "and you got a deal."

"Done," bellowed Henry holding his wallet above his head like Lady Liberty with the torch. "Cus can't stand on his feet, much less his hands. Look at 'im, Chuck. You gotta know he can't do it."

Chuck had to agree with the judge. Cus weighed well over 300 pounds and despite the fact that he was a fairly spry cowhand, he looked more like a sow in heat in his current condition. The sweat on Cus' face slid down his porky cheeks like butter on a fresh cob of corn. He was a mess. He finally stopped laughing, but every time he tried to get up, he tumbled over in a huge heap of lard.

"Seriously, Miguel," began the judge as Cus again floundered like a fat catfish on the grill, "you can't believe he can do it."

Yet, just as Miguel was about to concede the bet, Cus shifted his girth into a rotund ball of gluttonous muscle and placed his meat-cleaver arms firmly underneath him and then, with a grunt heard all the way in Alamosa, he kicked his enormous legs straight in the air. Layers upon layers of fat cascaded toward the floor like a sick waterfall. Henry gasped audibly and Vera let fly with a few well-timed expressions of horror. It was a sight none of them hoped to ever see again, but the show was not over. Cus exhaled and then with an effort that none of them could have possibly expected, he pressed himself fully into the air. His arms shook like quaking aspens but he held steady for nearly twenty seconds before they finally gave out and he plunged to the floor.

The sound was deafening. Charles thought the floorboards might literally give way from the force of the fall, but they withstood the blow and just squealed in agony. Charles had to admit it was as miraculous an event as he had ever seen. Vera screamed victoriously at the top of her voice, Jacob howled in disbelief, and even Henry stood up and applauded the outrageous feat. Cole, who had been mildly amused with the morning to that point, wiped tears from his bloodshot eyes and sent Sally off to fetch him another beer. Miguel lay on the floor beneath his chair in a state of complete shock or complete giddiness. Charles couldn't tell. Cus, for his part, just lay in the middle of the room exhausted and spent and soaked in his own sweat.

"So, Judge?" began Miguel with a twinkle in his eye. "You gonna pay the Mexican all your money?"

Henry still couldn't believe what he had just seen, but he was a man of his word. He slowly reached into his wallet, pulled out a wad of twenties, counted them out, and placed them reluctantly in the Mexican's hand. A bet was a bet.

"Sally!" yelled the Mexican clutching his money triumphantly. "Bring the judge one, too!"

* * * *

2 Comments:

Blogger Joanne said...

What an interesting array of characters! I'm looking forward to the next chapters...and I can't wait to see how they all relate. BTW-thanks for the congrats! :-) We are pretty pleased ourselves.

7:33 AM  
Blogger Kim said...

A headstand? I don't think there are any headstands in my book, but I may have to put one in now.

2:10 PM  

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