Don't Poke the Bear!

Chapter 6

WHILE I DON'T enjoy killin' people, there's nothin' better for business.

Everyone and his brother comes into the saloon tonight, wantin' to shake my hand or slap my back. By the time the embellishin' was done, you'd a' thought I killed a dozen men, 'stead of the one. Earl Gray saunters in around ten to collect his fee.

"Where'd you get the bear?" he says.

"Won him in a poker game."

"No shit? What'd you have, two pair?"

"Nope. Just bullets."

Earl gives me a funny look, like he thinks I might be joshin' him. Either that or he thinks no one would bet a bear on a hand that couldn't beat two aces. But he's done talkin' about the card game. Instead, he asks, "How's the old man?"

"Not good. But I hear he's talkin' to Gentry some."

An hour ago, after puttin' the sign on the bear's neck, I tried to go up and check on the old man, but Gentry had the door locked. Lou Slips, our oldest whore, told me he'd started his death bed speech, and Gentry didn't want it interrupted.

By now the place is completely full. Them that ain't drinkin' to celebrate my shootin', are drinkin' toasts to the bear. Someone found my gun and brought it to me. I already knew it'd never shoot again, but I buy the man a drink for his thoughtfulness, and decide to keep the busted gun as a souvenir.

Every big time saloon has a piano player they call the Professor. Ours finally shows up, stumblin' in through the back entrance so drunk he walks right past the bear without givin' it a second thought. He gets about ten feet past it when he suddenly stops and turns around, as if his mind just registered what he'd seen. He jumps back and shouts, "Holy Shit!"

Everyone in the place laughs, but the Professor recovers nicely, and strolls on over to the piano, sets himself on the bench, and begins playing a bouncy tune.

Then the most amazin' thing happens: the bear jumps to his feet and starts dancin'! I mean, he steps one foot up, then the other, and twirls and puts one paw up and the other out in front, like he's holdin' a partner!

Everyone in the saloon starts hoo-rawin' and clappin', and I'm startin' to think this bear could be worth a fortune! I run over and start dancin' with him. I put out my hands and he puts out his paws, and we tap each other lightly. He still appears ill, but he's movin' around like a youngster, and just as cute, 'cept for that rope goin' through his snout and cheek.

The others realize what I've got in this bear.

"You're gonna be rich, you're gonna be rich!" they chant, while the music plays and the bear dances, and I hop around grinnin' like the village fool.

Until a shotgun blast is fired from upstairs.

The music stops, and everyone looks up to the second-floor hallway, where Gentry's standin' on the overlook, holdin' a shotgun. I can see the hole in the far wall where she shot the rock salt. While no one's hurt, I can't for the life of me figure out what's gotten into this woman I adore. Gentry points to the Professor and says, "No more music! Not another note!"

"What?" I say, pointin' to the bear. "Did you see him just now? He loves it! He's a dancin' bear."

Every man has his hat off, which they instinctively remove whenever Gentry makes an appearance. So exceedin' is her beauty, most men can't form a single sentence in her presence.

"Emmett," she says in a tone that makes every man go quiet, "This is your place, and I'm just your woman. But so help me, if you let the Professor play one more note, I'm walkin' out of your life forever."

I draw my gun before the first person can think to gasp, and fire six shots into the piano. Shot so fast, the Professor had no time to jump outta the way. Then I shout, "If I see or hear of any man or woman touchin' that piano again, even if you so much as brush up against it, you've breathed your last breath. Is that clear?"

I look around the room as everyone nods. Then I say, "Spread the word!"

Then I yell for Constance and tell her to draw up a sign and put it on the piano so everyone can see it when they come in the front door. I tell her the sign should say, Music Will Get You Shot!

I look back up at Gentry. She gives me a long look, then smiles a grim smile, and says, "Thank you, Emmett."

The way she said it was formal, but tender. Considering the anger she'd shown just before, and how sweet she were to thank me with a smile so soon after, hit me and the others like a warm fire on a frosty day. I look around the room and see tears wellin' up in the eyes of some of the ruggedest men you'll ever find on the prairie. Then, as we all watch, Gentry lowers her shotgun and turns to leave, takes a couple steps, then turns back and coos, "Could you come upstairs when it suits you, cowboy?"

The men start hoo-rawin' again, only now they're thinkin' me the luckiest man in Kansas, which calls for another round of drinks bought by this one or that. As I start headin' up the stairs, I glance back at the bear.

He's lyin' on the floor again, with the most sorrowful expression I ever seen on an animal's face.