Southend U3A

Writing for Fun

November 2017

Things That Go Bump In The Night - Jeff Kebbell

The old cowboy made his way to Last Chance. It was Spring and he had spent the Winter in a line cabin in the base of the Rockies tending the cattle with hay in the worst of the Winter. He was worn and tired and looking forward to a few beers and a hot tub. He would retire after he was paid. He had a small patch of ground to grow vegetables and keep a few cattle for income. There were plenty of wild cattle in the brush he would tempt to his land and brand for a future income.

It was dusk on a Saturday evening as he approached the town and he was surprised to hear no sound of celebrations – had he got the day wrong? Then he noticed a lot of lanterns bobbing up and down and coming towards him. He loosened his shotgun in its case in front of his saddle and pulled to a halt. It seemed the whole town was coming towards him. Had he done something wrong or had they mistaken him for someone else? The fear of a lynching shuddered through him as the riders in front reached him.

‘Turn round mister and get on your way before it’s too late. Don’t go into town. He’ll kill you.’

Nobody explained what was happening and the looks of fear told him that whatever it was, was pretty dreadful. He didn’t want to turn round, likewise he didn’t want to die. Perhaps he could go into town, grab a glass of beer and leave before the catastrophe occurred. Was it an earthquake, a coming forest fire; it was unlikely to be an avalanche from the nearby Rockies. He saw an old man pushing a wheelbarrow with a few worldly possessions on it.

‘Say old timer, what’s the problem? Why the panic?’

The old man stopped, took a few gulps of air and gasped, ‘Big Eddy’s coming to town.’

The cowboy had heard of Big Ed. He was the wild son of a mountain family that created havoc wherever they went. Murderous, mad and enormous in size they took what they wanted and heaven help anyone who tried to stop them. Big Eddy was seven foot high, thirty stone and the most dangerous of them all. He had strangled a mountain lion that had jumped his horse and when the Kid, a local gunman, had fired three bullets into him, he seized him and broke his neck. Not a man to tangle with or get anywhere near.

What to do? The urge for a beer or two was overpowering and the old cowboy kicked his horse into a trot and entered the town. Tethering his horse round the back of the saloon he entered the front and walked to the bar. If he hurried he could get his drink and get out. The saloon appeared empty but a slight cough and behind the bar was a skinny frightened bartender who asked him what he wanted.

‘Beer,’ said the cowboy shortly, looking around and feeling rather frightened.

‘I guess you know about Big Eddy’ said the bartender.

‘Big Ed – Thickhead,’ thought the cowboy but just nodded his head. He took his beer and drank it down quickly wondering whether he had time for a second when the boardwalk outside gave a loud creak and bump, bump, bump. Huge footsteps made their way towards the saloon door. He remembered his mother’s stories when he was small in bed when at night time she told him dreadful things that went bump in the night which gave him nightmares.

The bumps in the night stopped at the saloon door and the cowboy dived behind the piano and the swing doors smashed back as a giant burst into the saloon. One door remained swinging when the top hinge on the second broke off. It hung there drunkenly as the giant strode in. He went to the bar.

‘Grrr’ he roared and the bartender fell to the floor in a dead faint. Behind the piano, but peering out the side, the cowboy, despite what he had been told, could hardly believe his eyes. Like the proverbial rabbit frozen by the snake’s glare, he watched fortunately unobserved.

The bartender had filled a pitcher of beer ready to fill the glass on the counter.

‘Grrr’ said the giant picking up the pitcher and pouring it down his throat, then ‘Grrr again.

The bartender staggered to his feet and said ‘Did you want another drink, Sir?’ The stranger’s beard rasped as he ran his hand across it.

‘Nope, I guess I’ll be moseying along now. I hear that Big Eddy’s coming to town.’