THE CHRONICLE

                A Ben Wade short story

                    By Atonia Walpole

 (A collection of interviews conducted by Mr. Thomas Whittaker of the San Francisco Chronicle on the capture of Ben Wade)

Interview #1 – Blind John

 “You gotta have a gimmick, somethin' that sets you apart from the rest, somethin' that defines who, you are or wanna be.” That’s what I told him.  He figured mine out a long time ago. He used to hang around the train station when he was a little tyke. A dirtier, scruffier-looking little kid I never seen before. He was an orphan. Preacher took him in and tried to beat some learnin’ into him, I reckon. Skinny, always hungry ,heh, I turned a 'blind' eye many a time when he slipped somethin’ from my stall here.

I don’t make much money, you know. You  don’t tryin’ to sell pins and ink and paper and a few books at the station. People spent their monies on tickets ain’t got much left for extras, but I make do, have for a long time.

It took him a while.  I’d see him edge a little closer each day. He had his eye on somethin’. I don’t know what it was but the day he reached for it I grabbed his arm. That’s when he figured out these smoked-up glasses was just part of the act. "Can ya read?" I asked him one time and he said, yeah, so I told him he could borrow a book if  he’d bring it back in new condition. You can’t sell dog-eared books, you know. He read everythin' I had and as soon as I got a new book, he had first read.

It was good for him, I reckon, opened up his world a little, showed him there was more than the preacher’s woodshed in life. Along about the time he was changin' a little, oh, I reckon he was around eleven year old, the preacher up and moved away, left him behind. He made his own way, worked a little, stole a little. I know he did cause he didn’t make enough money at the livery stable to buy the things he had. Come up here one time with a silver belt buckle, showin’ off a little. Feller had a hole in his pants the belt buckle didn’t make up for.

I believe the thing that set his course was the time a gang of outlaws rode into town, took over the saloon. They had money, they had women and some of ‘em had some style. He was workin’ in the saloon then, cleanin’ out spittoons, sweepin’ up broken glass, that sort of thing. He come up here tellin’ me about the leader of the gang and how he outsmarted them all at the card table, ‘bout his guns, pearl-handled guns and his beaver hat, finest hat he’d ever seen. He’d wrote down the name he found inside the hat of the hatmaker, some outfit out of San Francisco. I laughed at him and asked what he’d wrote that down for. I know now I shouldn’t have laughed at him. His eyes went cold as steel and he turned and walked off.

I didn’t see him no more for awhile. I heard he left town with the gang, heard he turned into  a right bothersome young man, heard a lot of things. I reckon there might have been some truth in some of it. Anyway the next time I seen him he come through here on the train with a woman on his arm. He was dressed real fancy-like an' stopped by my cart an' handed me an ace of spades, tipped his hat and moved on. I reckoned he was a gamblin’ man now then I looked again at the card. There was a bullet hole through the ace, clean as it could be. A man that could bullseye an ace, well, you best step outta his way. He was wearin' his gun then, you know…The Hand of God.

I had to move my cart along. They got some fancy ideas about train stations now, everythin' on shelves like it was a general store. So I set up here across the road.  I don’t reckon I’ll see another winter. That’s how it is, you know. Time for me to move on…what’s that?

Oh, yeah, it was about five year ago now he come into town with his gang. I’d heard all about him. You know they even got dime novels about him now. He’s famous, oh, yeah, he is and you know with that fame comes troubles. He can’t move about like he used to. He’s wanted for so many crimes they’s always some feller out there wantin' to make a name for hisself. He stopped by like he always does and picked up a cigar.

“That’s a nice lookin’ hat," I says to him. He looked up at me from under the brim, deadly- lookin’ eyes. I tell  you. "Thanks," he says and he knew we was both rememberin' the time I laughed cause he wrote the name of a hatter down.  "Get that in San Francisco?"  I asked him. He smiled a little and turned away, lookin' down the street.

“Goes with the act," he says and then he hunched his shoulders and walked off with one of his men.

"Yep, he’s got his act together. He looks the part and I hear it ain’t all for show. I wish him well.

"Well, I wouldn’t call myself a friend of his. We ain’t talkin', you know, but I always been here. He knew where to come and I didn’t talk down to him or nothin' when he was comin’ along.  Thanks for stoppin’ by and, uh, if you’re gonna print this, just leave out the part about my act. It ain’t over yet…you know?"

Interview #2  - Mrs. Howard Standish

How do you do Mr. Whitaker. I do occasionally help him out in the dry goods store. That’s him, that’s my husband over there. We’ve been married for ten years now.

Who? I’m sure you’re mistaken…that’s my husband over there.

I can’t imagine you think I would know him. Yes, he did live here for a time when he was a young man. Of course I wasn’t acquainted with him.

At the saloon,  he worked at the saloon. He might have worked in the stables. I’m sure I don’t know.

My husband was a widower at the time I first met him. I worked in his store to help out my mother who was poorly. I handled the fabrics. Um, the store was right over there by the saloon. Of course it's not there anymore. We have a much larger and nicer store here, as you can see.

Well, yes, I suppose I might have met him since we're right next to the saloon. He was only a boy then.

Ha, ha!  Oh, no, sir!  I was well into my twenties and on my way to be an old maid until I met Mister…yes, he would have been younger. I’m not sure. As I said, he was only a boy, not even shaving then…smooth-faced but tall…strong…lovely hands. I made him a shirt out of some blue broadcloth…I’m sorry, what did you say?

Of course I didn’t know him, not in that way, not in the way you imply, Mr. Whittaker. I’m quite shocked that you would even ask such a thing! Why would I know him at all and to imply that I knew him, knew him in the biblical sense…you brought up the Bible, sir. Well, I’m sure you did when you asked if I knew him well. I’m certainly smart enough to understand what you’re asking me and I am shocked that you would ask such a thing of a lady. He was only a boy, I say, only a boy! He didn’t know anything. How dare you bring up that whole revolting afternoon!

I’m afraid I can’t talk to you any more, Mr. Whitaker. That’s my husband over there.

Interview #3 Tim Wootman

Wooty, I say they calls me Wooty…don’t know why. What can I do for ya? I got a nice Indian pinto in here this week, fine animal. I can make you a good offer on it. What do you say? Oh, not looking for horses? Well, then, what are ya doin’ down here in the livery?

Well, that woulda been my Daddy that had the business back then. Yes, I remember him well. He was a few years older than me. He slept here. Did you know that? Yes, he did right back there in stable number three. I thought it was fascinating that a boy could live on his own like that, do as he pleased. He used to spit tobacco in a tin can and keep a bottle of whiskey in his bag. I never saw him take a drink but I don’t doubt that he did.

Oh, he was about ten or eleven, a good sized boy for his age. Daddy used to say, you’ll learn your lessons or end up like Wade, mucking out stables all yer life. Well, I’m still mucking out stables, heh, heh, and he’s had a life to consider, ain’t he. I read about him and his exploits. Oh, I know these dime novels ain’t nothing but fiction but I like to think about him out there doing the things they write about.

No, we wasn’t buddies or anything. Mama wouldn’t allow me to associate with him.

He was quiet, always quiet, like he was thinking up something.  He was always reading. Daddy used to worry about him burning down the stable with his lantern cause he’d read way into the night, not like me, who had to go to bed with the chickens and without a lantern. Yeah, he did as he pleased. I reckon I envied him in a way. He never had to answer to anybody.

I think they had a falling out. Wade was working some up at the saloon and still living here in the stables. Oh, this was later on. He was about thirteen or so then, maybe older. Anyhow one morning I came out here in the stables and he was gone, all his stuff was gone.

I don’t know. I just remember words like scoundrel, blood will tell, no good no account, that kinda thing. I never saw him to speak after that. I mean I saw him sweeping off the walk in front of the saloon so he was still around town.

I reckon he stayed at the saloon. You know, funny thing happened the day the outlaws left town. Ben went with them and  Daddy had a horse go missing. He blamed Ben, of course, but I don’t know if there’s any truth to that. We never saw him about the stables that day.

Interview #4  Mrs. Lonny Castle

Yeah, I used to be Molly Miller. What do you want?

You come all the way out here to talk to me about him? Law…have a seat here on the porch.

What is it you want to know, Mr. Whittaker? It’s been a long time ago. I haven’t seen him in years.

Stubby gave him a job cleaning out the saloon every morning from the night's fights and otherwise drunken mess. He said he was fourteen but I ain’t sure he knew how old he was.

Ha,ha! Yes, well, I do remember that. If Ben found a bottle with anything left in it ,he’d finish it off. I know he did cause I caught him at it one time. Stubby woulda beat him senseless if he’d known. No, I didn’t’ turn him in. I helped him drink ‘em off. Old Mr. Wootman took offense to a drunken stable lad and sacked him.

We kept rooms, me and the other girls. You know how that is, don’t  you, Mr. Whittaker? Ha, ha, you ‘re blushing! Well, anyway Ben had a place to sleep. We kind of passed him around. I don’t think Stubby ever knew he slept upstairs for free.

He was a handsome young man and a delightful student.

There was one girl I think he was a little sweet on. It was a hopeless situation, Mr. Whittaker. She was a working girl.

About three years I think. Yes, about three years he was with us.

Diamond Jim’s gang came through. They swept through. You had to have been there. They were flush with money, just took over the saloon and half the town. Even the sheriff was afraid to come out of his jail house. Everybody got rich off of them, well, rich for us anyway.

“They cleared out one foggy morning headed for Mexico. Ben went with them. Stole a horse from the livery stable. I saw him packing up. He said he didn’t even have to go in the stable, just whistle and the horse came out to him so he didn’t figure it was stealing . I never saw him again.

I got married the next year and quit working on my back. Lonnie was good to me right till the end and I was surprised to find he’d left everything to me, this ranch…an' everything.

Thank you for asking but it was a cancer…yes, doc said he wouldn’t last a year when we got married and he was right.

Anytime, you come back anytime and if you see Ben tell him Molly remembers him.

Interview #5 Bill Crewe

I can’t think why anybody would be interested in reading anything I might say about Ben Wade. I didn’t know him that well. I was a bartender at the saloon when he worked there.

I guess he did his job all right. I’ll tell ya, Mr. Whittaker, he was a smart mouth, yes, he was. You couldn’t tell him nothing but he didn’t have a come back ready.  He wasn’t afraid of nothing. You couldn’t threaten him with anything. He didn’t care.

I think he was there for about three years. I was there for one while he was there. Stubby had him working when I come to town.

They needed a bartender. The last one caught a bullet and I needed a job. I’d been in the army till I lost this eye.

Friends? I don’t recall ever seeing him with anybody except the girls upstairs. He never paid for any of it, never paid for a drink or a meal, nothing.

Well, you’re right, Mr. Whittaker. I never much cared for him. Don’t have anything else to say about him.

Interview #6 Jelly Dormand

Why do you want to know about him?

There’s really not much I can tell you, Mr. Whittaker. I knew him when he was about sixteen or seventeen. I was about the same age.

It was when he lived here at the saloon. I saw him again after that. Some years had gone by…I was still here but he had moved on with his life, had something going for him. He offered to take me with him, said it would be different and how he could give me all these things. I wish now I hadda gone with him. I ain’t never gonna get out of this place. Men like him don’t come around that often and decent men don’t come in here looking for a wife. I’m stuck here.

 Love? Hah! What’s that do, you know? It might have been love we had going, could have been if we’d given it time, but we didn’t have time. He rode out of here with Diamond Jim’s gang. Four years later he had his own. He had some money in his pocket and he was on fire. Do you want a drink? Sorry I…I forgot. A lady shouldn’t drink alone.

He was on fire. It could have been me with him. I saw her when he came through town, fancy woman. I kept hopin’ he’d come by and see me but he never did. He probably forgot me by then. I didn’t go with him because I was afraid. He was wanted by the law and I thought if he got caught I’d be stuck in who knows what hell hole. I stayed in the hell hole I knew instead of looking for another.

I don’t know who she was, never knew her name. She didn’t stick anyway. He came back a few years later without her so I reckon he’d moved on. He just kept movin’ on. He don’t stay nowhere long. You sure you don’t wanna drink? Truth is, if I was ever gonna love somebody it would have been him, but I ain’t  lovin’ nobody, at least not for long. I could love you. It only cost five dollars.

Interview #7 – second with Blind John

Did you find what you were lookin’ for? There’s a few of us still around from them days . I’ll look forward to readin’ about us in the paper.

No, I don’t know if I’ll even read that. I think if I don’t see it in the paper it didn’t happen. I don’t want to think about him hanging. I know he’s done a lot of bad things but he ain’t all bad, Mr. Whittaker. And you know what, I ain’t so sure he’s gonna hang, nope. He’s been near the gallows before and got away.

Nope…them gallows is just part of the act…cain’t you just hear him sayin’ that?

Submitted by Thomas Whittaker, SFC

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