Dignity (by faust)

Summary: Roy Coffee has his reasons for doing what he does. Really, he has.

700 words, rated K

Also available in eBook format — please pm me for that.

My Story Index and reading order for the Art-Universe

 

Dignity

Of course, there are easier methods to get from the Bucket of Blood saloon to the sheriff’s office than to wind one’s way crawling on the belly beneath the planks of Virginia City’s sidewalks. Easier  methods and…um…more dignified. Methods of locomotion more appropriate for a sheriff.

Say, one could just walk on the wooden planks. Or on the street, straight and upright, in a striding gait, as it fit a real and true hero. One could bath in the warm sunlight there (instead of wallowing in the muddy puddles that remained in the shadowy places under the planks even after several days of scorching heat), and in the citizens’ admiration.

One could let themselves be entertained  to a glass of beer, or let a cigar be slid into one’s breast pocket, could smile modestly and ward off the congratulations and the handshakes. Could say that one did only his duty, that one gets paid for it after all, and that one were just happy to hear that all the good people of Virginia City felt safe and protected in their town, on the streets and in their homes. That, at any moment, one would notice each suspicious movement, would pursue each suspicious noise, follow each suspicious character, halt each suspicious, no, each culpable act straightaway.

That in a town where Roy Coffee were responsible for Law and Order, no honourable woman needed to be afraid, no solitary lady would be molested, no reputable widow would be assaulted and robbed within her own four walls. That the sheriff patrolled the streets at night just for the purpose of preventing all such.

And then one would go back to the sheriff’s office, content with knowing one did his very best and was respected and venerated for that, would drink a cup of stale coffee and ponder, if it weren’t such a bad idea after all, to, possibly, only for one day…or a half—yes, certainly one half day would be enough as that man is so mercilessly efficient—so then for just a few hours (meanwhile one could easily have a nap in one of the cells, just so one didn’t have to witness it again and feel one’s blood boil again, unbearable hot, and—) well, if one would ask Adam Cartwright to come to the office, just for a very brief time, to straighten out all the paper work that likes to be left unfinished while one is busy with protecting the town.

And the widows.

Of course, one could simply stop thinking of widows. Just crawl along, on the belly, beneath the sidewalk’s planks, as far as the sheriff’s office, and then slip in unnoticed und think not of widows. At least not of the one. The one whom one saved last night. And who now is so infinitely grateful.

So grateful that she already heralded cookies, and sarsaparilla tea, and a picnic. A picnic, good gracious, a picnic with the widow, just he and she, all alone out there in the wide prairie, without anyone else… Only the sheriff, the widow, and those confounded, teeth wrecking hard tacks and the sickeningly sweet tea and, and…everyone knows what happened to Ben Cartwright after his picnic with the widow Hawkins…and NO! Roy doesn’t want any red artist’s tights hanging from a wall in his house or a poster of Harry Hawkins, strongest man in the world. And he doesn’t want…no, sir’ ee, he most definitely doesn’t want the widow to make true her proposition to come and clean up his office and to rearrange everything for “it’s so bleak and joyless in there, my dear sheriff. Certainly a woman’s touch is needed to remedy that.”

Of course, there are easier methods to get from the Bucket of Blood saloon to the sheriff’s office than to wind one’s way crawling on the belly beneath the planks of Virginia City’s sidewalks—but no safer as long as the Widow Hawkins is on the hunt.

Confound dignity.

*** fin ***

 

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This was not beta-read, so there must be mistakes. If you spot one, do not hesitate to tell me. Honestly, I want you to do it. Future readers will thank you (and I, too).

 

Tags:  Clementine Hawkins, Roy Coffee

Author: faust

21 thoughts on “Dignity (by faust)

  1. At first I thought he must have been drunk. But no: perhaps stalking somebody? But no, wrong again. For a far, far better reason! I laughed out loud and disturbed the drinkers in my local equivalent of the Bucket of Blood, which is where I was reading!

  2. Always knew Roy was a lot smarter than he’s given credit for. No wonder poor Clemmie is still single. I wonder if Benjamin ever tried this tactic?

  3. I have visions of Roy crawling out from under thinking the coast is clear, only to find her there waiting. Poor man, I wonder what his dreams are like? I agree with you though — Clementine deserves a man worthy to fill old Harry’s tights. (Not that Roy and Ben aren’t worthy, but for some reason they don’t seem too receptive of her unique charms…) Thanks for the laugh, Faust!

    1. LOL Oh, yeah, I can envision that! Oh my…

      Glad I gave you a laugh – and I agree: Clementine deserves someone worthy of her charms. For some reason I still think Ben could be it – that last scene in the Burma Rarity, when he takes Clementine in his arms…I think he really sees her great heart and beautiful soul then. (Even though I suspect in that scene Ben is completely Lorne…)

    2. You may be right about that last scene, Faust. I’m sure Lorne was completely charmed by the vivacious Beatrice Kay — who was quite a beauty in her day and not British at all! 🙂

    1. The Widow would inflict the fear of God on all of Roy’s prisoners, so perhaps he should reconsider…. Naw, sorry, Clementine deserves someone like Ben. Really, she does. Roy is too not-Harry for her. She will realise that eventually and set her attention back on Ben.

      But I’m glad I made you giggle!

  4. Oh, how funny! Our intrepid lawman brought low (literally) by the town’s most formidable widow! (Hey, who’s going to launder Roy’s clothes after this little adventure? Unpaved roads…mud…horses…maybe he should just throw them away.)

    1. Well, I’m not going to wash them. Perhaps the Widow volunteers?

      Now were those Adam’s clothes….

      Poor widow, though. Perhaps next time I’ll find her a man. Actually…hmm…the wheels are turning…

    1. If you giggled I succeeded. Thanks a lot for telling me!

      Yes, Roy is going to need a lot of strong, fine men to shelter him from the widow. Or to distract her. Perhaps Dr. Paul… But that might be another story. 😆

  5. Inquiring minds want to know if this story occurred before or after Clementine set her sights on Ben?

    I feel for Roy, poor man. The difficulties in performing his job and avoiding danger. Let’s hope the citizens will understand.

    1. After, BWF, as Roy refers to Ben’s experience.

      I wish they’d have made Old Clementine a regular in the show. She was great, and everyone who inflicts the fear of God in Ben must be applauded anyway.

      Thanks a lot for reading and replying, BWF!

    1. This or taking your oldest son as body guard with you when visiting the widow.

      I love the old flamingo. Really, I do.

      Thanks for reading and responding, Ruth!

    1. If even Ben Cartwright is afraid of the widow… I always wondered why she wouldn’t set her eyes on him after she couldn’t rope in Ben.
      Thanks a lot for reading, Belle! And for replying, too.

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