The Tale of Mister Caloway

Bayou Shadows: A Frontier Tale (prelude)

A man came dashing out of the water, wandering into town. Wet, Cold, Shivering, and the like, said he and a couple of his boys had been ambused just outside Houma and that he was the only one who made it. That was my first introduction to one William "Willy the Gator" Foreman, as he would soon be known. Now William here, was a small man, stood about 5'6, looked no more then 190 pounds with the wind at his back, maybe 195 soaking wet. Told me he wanted getback for the men who had taken him and his associates down, said he knew where they were headed, and was looking to get a crew together to help him. "I dont know anyone who can shoot better than the broadside of a barn", i told him; "but the way i see it, youre a mans been wronged, and ill do my damndest to help make it right." i continued. His face lit up with thankfullness, and I took him in and gave him some new dry garments.

These men who had taken down Willy's associates went by many names, "The Serpents", "The Mangrove", even came across one man who called these lot "The Buzzards", but behind all this mystique stood 3 men, and a bunch of other hired guns. Willy told me he had a plan to take down each man seperate, and told me every part of his plan:

"Alright now, the first bastard we need to get rid of is likely the one who tipped the rest off about whereabouts i was headed." He told me; "Benjamin Rutheford, former aire to the Rutheford Family Farm buissness, decided to uproot himself at 17 and get into alot of trouble. He'll be headed out to Bogalusa, wanting to get as far away from his family as possible, should be a relatively easy target, the boy rides alone, usually doesnt carry more than 1 six shot."

It took us damn near 4 days to get from the small town of Layawa Grove out to Bogalusa, but luckily for us, mister benjamin was about to make our lives a whole lot easier. The day we strolled into town Benjamin was drunk as a skunk layed out in the middle of the street, all we had to do was pose as a couple of his friends, and get him as far away from that saloon as possible. We rode out on horseback, and about an hour later, when we thoght we were far enough outside the city, dropped him, and put three slugs in his head, and then dumped his body right into the Louisana river. I took the boy's six shot as a personal prize, and Willy chuckled and said "that six gun was about as useful to him as a fishing pole is to a fish." After setting up a small "camp" just off the riverbank, Willy told me the next part of his plan:

"This next no good snake is gonna be a little tricky, i hear he's somewhere upriver a bit. Goes by the name of "Ricky Ridgewell" Word is someone told him i made it out alive and now hes scrambling back and forth up and down the river making sure he is where im not. We find this bastard, you leave him to me. I may not be the best at stayin dry, but one thing for damn sure is i aint afraid to get a little damp if it means taking this son of a bitch out."

I asked, "If hes scrambling up and down river, why not just wait for him to cross us? Eventually he'll have to.". Willy agreed to stay at the camp for a few days and test our luck. Three days passed, not a damn sight, we decided to pack up the camp and move upriver a bit, see if we would catch him earlier, but as we had just finished, three little rowboats passed us, and Willy sprung off his horse, and jumped right into the river, no firepower, only weapon he had on him was a little gut knife he was using for fish, but now he was fixing to run it across this bastards neck it would seem.

I stayed on the riverbank, taking out the men that mister Ricky had brought down for "protection", and soon enough like a god damn alligator, Willy rose from the water, sprung on the boat, and gutted the poor bastard right on it. The boat ran ashore just south of where we were staying, Willy took the now blood soaked body of the man, and dumped him right in the bulrush.

It was at this point, i realized that Willy might be more crazy that i had initally let myself beleive. Riding away from the camp i joked that he had come up out the water like an alligator at feeding time, and he chuckled. For the rest of the day he started refering to himelf as "Willy the Gator" , and i guess he liked it so much the name just stuck.

We set up camp far down south, out there in the wetlands, and were fixing to set out to New Orleans the next morning.

"Now this man, this is the man that took my boys from me. John Barry, calls himself "Big Bad John"", he said mockingly. "He runs a bar down in the city, what do you say we go burn the place down?" He then asked. I laughed it off as if he was joking, he looked me dead in the eye and told me word for word:

"This man has been after me and my boys for 5 years, and now that hes finally got them, im gonna make his last days hell. Either that building burns down with him in it or i burn him to death myself."

We packed up camp, head to this bar the next morning, flaming moonshine in hand, and set the place ablaze. Immediately John rushed out of the building and shot two rounds at Willy's head, narily missing both. Willy took his reapeater from the side of his horse, and fired back, striking John right under the chin. "You took everything from me, now im taking everything from you, including your damn life." As Willy stood over johns trashing body, he failed to see two gunmen standing on both sides of him, waiting to fire, and with a final yelp, John let out "FIRE!" and just like that, Willy had died, body fell right next to John's now freshly lifeless corpse. The two men then looked at me, and I said "I aint know of any quarral those two men had, fella just said he needed directions into town." Their eyes darted back and forth, looking at me, and then eachother a dozen times. One of them pointed to Willy's Lifeless body and said "You take yours, we'll take ours." I then lifted myself off of my horse, dragging willy's body over to it, and tied it down to the horses back.

I didnt know a thing about willy other then the fact he was a man wronged, so i did the best thing i could, and laid him to rest on the same riverbed we had set up camp on no more than a week earlier, took off his boots and his hat,laying the boots beside him and his hat on his chest. With one final kick of the dust, i said goodbye to him and walked away, i can only assume his soul went up to the better place, where him and his boys were re-united.