Dream Of Sunset
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The sun was setting in the west when Johnny and Landon rode into the corral. The horses were calm, which made Johnny think they were hungry. He went to the feed bin and gave them each a handful of oats. “You boys go on,” he told his nephews. “I’ll take care of the horses.”
Johnny rode out of the corral and turned toward the house. He had just passed the barn when he saw a man walking down the road toward him. He was tall, and thin, and wore a gray suit with a black tie. His hair was parted neatly to one side and hung in waves to his shoulders.
It was so dark it looked like black smoke. Johnny wondered if the stranger was going to stop by the house for dinner or if he was here to see Miss Martha.
He was halfway up the hill when Johnny heard a horse whinny. He turned to see that Landon had come from the barn and was riding toward him. “Who’s that?” Landon asked as he pulled up beside Johnny.
“That’s Mr. Blaine.”
Landon nodded. “Mr. Blaine,” he repeated. “I don’t know him.”
“Well, you will tonight,” Johnny said. “He’s going to stay at the house tonight.”
“What are you going to do?” Landon asked.
“We’re going to have dinner with him.”
“Why?” Landon asked. “What did he want?”
“He wants to talk about the shooting of the old man,” Johnny said. “I told him I’d invite him over for dinner.”
“Are you going to tell Miss Martha?” Landon asked.
“No. She’s not going to like it. But she can’t stop me. And besides, Mr. Blaine is paying for the meal.”
“But what if he’s here to arrest you?” Landon asked.
“I’m not going to be arrested,” Johnny said. “And anyway, I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Maybe not,” Landon said. “But Miss Martha will say you have.”
Johnny smiled. “You don’t think so?”
“Yes, I do,” Landon said. “She always says you’re too headstrong.”
“Headstrong?” Johnny repeated. “Headstrong? Is that what you call it?”
“Yeah,” Landon said. “If you hadn’t been so headstrong, the old man wouldn’t have gotten shot.”
“The old man got shot because he was crazy,” Johnny said. “And you know it.”
Landon shrugged. “I guess so.”
“Now, listen,” Johnny said. “You keep quiet about this dinner with Mr. Blaine. Tell your mother that you don’t feel well and go back to bed.”
“But—” Landon began.
Johnny held up his hand. “No buts. I’ll take care of Mr. Blaine.”
Landon didn’t argue anymore. He dismounted and walked toward the house. Johnny went to the barn to check on the horses. They were eating their oats. “You boys behave yourselves,” he told them. “Mr. Blaine’s a good man. You’re lucky to meet him.”
“What are you going to do?” Landon asked as they rode out of the corral.
“I’m going to talk to him,” Johnny said. “And then I’m going to ask him about the shooting.”
“Will he tell you?” Landon asked.
“Maybe,” Johnny said. “But I won’t be able to find out who killed the old man if I don’t ask him.”
“Can you do that?” Landon asked. “Ask him?”
“I’ll try,” Johnny said. “He might tell me something.”
They rode down the hill toward the house. It was just starting to get dark when they reached the porch. “You can leave your horses here,” Johnny said as he stopped his horse. “I’ll bring them in later.”
“Why?” Landon asked. “Do you want to talk to Mr. Blaine alone?”
“No, I don’t want to talk to him alone,” Johnny said. “It’s just that I don’t want my nephews to hear what we’re saying.”
“Oh,” Landon said. “All right.” He turned his horse around and led it into the corral.
Johnny got off his horse and tied it to the hitching post. He took a lantern from the hook near the door and went inside.
Miss Martha was at the stove, stirring the pot. “How are you feeling?” she asked as she looked up.
“Fine,” Johnny said. “You cooked an excellent meal.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Are you ready for dessert?”
“Not yet,” Johnny said. “I want to talk to you first.”
She put her wooden spoon in the pot and turned to face him. “What about?”
“Mr. Blaine,” Johnny said. “He’s coming over for dinner.”
“What did he want?” she asked.
“To talk about the shooting of the old man,” Johnny said. “He wants to know why I shot him.”
“That’s right,” Miss Martha said. “And how are you going to explain that?”
“I’m not going to have to,” Johnny said. “He’s paying for the meal.”
“You’re going to let him pay for dinner?” Miss Martha asked.
“Yes, I am,” Johnny said. “Because I’m going to ask him about the shooting.”
“But you’ll tell him why you shot him?”
“No, I won’t,” Johnny said. “I’m not going to tell him anything. But I will ask him.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to know who killed the old man,” Johnny said. “And I’m hoping Mr. Blaine will tell me.”
“So you’re going to let him pay for dinner and then ask him about the shooting?”
“Yes,” Johnny said. “I’m going to do that.”
“Then I hope you find out something,” Miss Martha said. “Because if I hear you’ve been arrested, I’ll be very disappointed.”
Johnny smiled. “I think I can take care of myself,” he said. “But don’t worry. If I get into any trouble, I’ll let you know.”
“Well, good luck,” she said. “I hope you find out what happened.”
Johnny went to the dining room and sat down at the table. He took a piece of apple pie from the dish on the table and ate it. Landon and Benji came in carrying their plates. “Dinner smells great,” Landon said.
“It is,” Johnny agreed. “You boys eat up.”
Landon and Benji sat down at the table. They started eating.
“Do you want to talk to Mr. Blaine alone?” Miss Martha asked.
“No,” Johnny said. “I don’t want to talk to him alone. I’m going to ask him about the shooting.”
“But why?” she asked. “Why are you so interested in the shooting?”
“Because I was there when it happened,” Johnny said. “And because I was the one who shot him.”
“You were the one who shot him?” Landon asked. “How did you shoot him?”
“I don’t know,” Johnny said. “I just pulled the trigger and it went off.”
“Did you kill him?” Benji asked.
“Yes, I killed him,” Johnny said. “I didn’t mean to. It was an accident.”
“Are you sure you killed him?” Miss Martha asked. “I don’t understand how you could have shot him with a gun you’d never seen before.”
“I’m sure,” Johnny said. “I didn’t know how to use the gun. I was just aiming at his chest and it went off.”
“Well, it’s lucky you weren’t killed,” Miss Martha said. “What if you had hit someone else?”
“Someone else would have been shot,” Johnny said. “Or the bullet would have ricocheted and hit the house.”
“Maybe you should take the gun back to town and let them check it out,” Miss Martha said. “That way you won’t have to worry about it.”
“I don’t want to do that,” Johnny said. “If I do, they’ll ask me about the shooting. And I’m not going to tell them anything.”
“Then maybe you should ask Mr. Blaine about it,” Miss Martha said.
“I will,” Johnny said. “After dinner.”
***
Johnny was sitting in the dining room when Mr. Blaine came in. He hadn’t shaved yet and his hair was still damp from a bath. The room was filled with light from the lantern hanging on the wall.
“How are you feeling?” Johnny asked as he rose to greet him.
“I’m fine,” Mr. Blaine said. “How about you? You look like you’re in good shape.”
“I feel good,” Johnny said. “But I’m hungry. I’m going to go fix something to eat.”
“Oh, I can do that,” Mr. Blaine said. “I’ve got a lot of energy today. I’m sure I can handle it.”
“Good,” Johnny said. “You want to come to the kitchen and help me?”
“No, thanks,” Mr. Blaine said. “I’d rather wait for dinner. I think I’ll have some pie. Why don’t you join me?”
“I can’t,” Johnny said. “I need to get something from my room.”
“Okay,” Mr. Blaine said. “I’ll see you later.”
Johnny left the dining room and went upstairs. He opened the door to his bedroom and saw a rifle leaning against the bed. It looked like the one he’d used to shoot Mr. Blaine.
Johnny picked up the gun and put it in his room. Then he went downstairs. He walked into the dining room and took a seat at the table.
“I’m ready for dinner,” he said.
Miss Martha served them each a plate of food. Johnny ate a piece of roast beef and a slice of apple pie. After he finished eating, he waited until she cleared the dishes.
“Mr. Blaine wants to talk to you alone,” Miss Martha said. “He’s waiting in the parlor.”
“All right,” Johnny said. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Johnny went upstairs and closed his bedroom door. He stood in front of the mirror and looked at himself. He was wearing the same clothes he’d worn the day before. His shirt was wrinkled and there were two buttons missing from his pants.
“What am I doing here?” Johnny asked. “I should be back in town. I should be working with Landon.”
He didn’t want to be here. But he was stuck. If he left now, he’d have to tell Mr. Blaine where he’d been all day. And he wouldn’t do that. Not when Mr. Blaine had so much to say about the shooting.
Johnny turned and walked toward the door. He opened it and stepped out of his room. The parlor was filled with light from the lantern hanging on the wall.
“Come in,” Mr. Blaine said. “We need to talk.”
Johnny closed the door behind him. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes, we do,” Mr. Blaine said. “But first let me introduce you to my wife, Miss Martha.”
“Hello,” Miss Martha said. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine,” Johnny said. “I’m glad to finally meet you.”
“Please sit down,” Mr. Blaine said. “Why don’t you join us?”
Johnny sat on the sofa. He’d never been in the parlor before. It was small and there were a few bookshelves along the wall. The furniture was old and very plain.
“You know Miss Martha?” Mr. Blaine asked.
“Yes,” Johnny said. “She’s the cook. She’s the only other person who lives here.”
“That’s right,” Miss Martha said. “I’m the only one. Mr. Blaine works in town. That’s why he likes to have dinner here every night.”
“It’s nice having company,” Mr. Blaine said. “Do you mind if we talk for a while?”
“Not at all,” Johnny said. “I can listen to anything Mr. Blaine has to say.”
“Good,” Mr. Blaine said. “Now, as I was saying, I want to talk to you about last night.”
“Sure,” Johnny said. “I don’t think there’s anything to worry about.”
“There is,” Mr. Blaine said. “You were involved in an accident. You almost killed Mr. Blaine.”
“I did not!” Johnny said. “I would never shoot a man unless he tried to kill me. I’m not like that.”
“Well, it seems to me that you are,” Mr. Blaine said. “You shot me. And then you lied about it.”
“I didn’t lie,” Johnny said. “I told you I was aiming at the ground.”
“Yes, but you weren’t,” Mr. Blaine said. “You were aiming at my chest. And when you shot, your gun went off. There was no way for you to know how many bullets were in the gun. You could have hit me with one or two of them. Or none.”
“I know what I saw,” Johnny said. “And I’m telling you that I didn’t aim at you.”
“No, you’re not,” Mr. Blaine said. “You just don’t want to admit that you fired the gun.”
“I didn’t,” Johnny said. “I was aiming at the ground.”
Mr. Blaine sat on the sofa and folded his hands together. He looked up at Johnny. “All right, let’s take another look at what happened. You were in the woods hunting. You had a loaded gun in your hand. You went into the woods by yourself. It was dark and you were shooting at something.
“I’m not saying you were trying to kill me,” Mr. Blaine said. “But you should have been more careful. You could have hurt yourself or someone else. That’s why I want you to promise me that you’ll be more careful.”
Johnny felt trapped. If he said yes, Mr. Blaine would leave him alone. But if he said no, Mr. Blaine would call the sheriff.
“All right,” Johnny said. “I’ll try to be more careful.”
“That’s a good boy,” Mr. Blaine said. “Now, as I was saying, I want to talk to you about last night.”
“About the shooting?” Johnny asked. “What about it?”
“Why did you do it?” Mr. Blaine asked. “I’ve known you since you were a boy. I taught you to shoot. And I can tell you that you’re not a killer.”
“I’m not,” Johnny said. “I swear that I’m not.”
“You never used to be this way,” Mr. Blaine said. “We didn’t have any trouble with you when you were growing up. You were always polite and respectful. We trusted you. That’s why we let you go on these trips by yourself.”
“I’m sorry,” Johnny said. “I guess I’m just not like other boys. I don’t know what happened to me. I didn’t mean for it to happen.”
“It was an accident,” Mr. Blaine said. “But accidents do happen. You need to be more careful. Next time, please use a rifle.”
Johnny nodded. He didn’t feel comfortable talking about the shooting. He’d been caught off guard. His finger had moved on its own. There was no way he could have stopped it.
“You don’t mind if I ask you some questions?” Mr. Blaine said.
“Sure,” Johnny said. “Ask away.”
“When did you get the gun?” Mr. Blaine asked. “How long have you had it?”
“I got it about a week ago,” Johnny said. “The first day I shot it, I thought I’d shoot at something. So I aimed at a tree. The next time I shot, I wasn’t aiming at anything. It was just a reflex.”
“Were you planning to shoot at anything?” Mr. Blaine asked.
“No,” Johnny said. “I was just fooling around.”
“You must have been excited,” Mr. Blaine said. “I think you should take your gun apart and clean it. I want you to take the bullets out of it and put them in a safe place.”
“Yes, sir,” Johnny said. “I’ll do that right away.”
“Good boy,” Mr. Blaine said. “Now, I have a few more questions for you. Did you shoot at anything else besides the ground?”
“No,” Johnny said. “I didn’t. I only shot at the ground.”
“What did you shoot at?” Mr. Blaine asked.
“I don’t remember,” Johnny said. “It was dark. I couldn’t see anything.”
“Did you hear anything?” Mr. Blaine asked. “Was there anyone else with you?”
“No,” Johnny said. “There was no one else there.”
“That’s what I thought,” Mr. Blaine said. “But I wanted to make sure. Now, why don’t we talk about something else? How about that trip you took to the mountains last month?”
“Oh, yeah,” Johnny said. “That was fun.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” Mr. Blaine said. “I’ve heard all about it from Mr. Slade. He told me that you were hunting for mountain lions. But you came back empty-handed. No mountain lions.”
“We didn’t find any,” Johnny said. “But I saw a bear.”
“A bear?” Mr. Blaine asked. “Did you shoot at it?”
“No,” Johnny said. “I wasn’t aiming at anything. It just happened.”
“I hope you didn’t hurt it,” Mr. Blaine said. “If you did, I’ll have to tell the sheriff.”
“No, sir,” Johnny said. “I didn’t shoot at the bear. I was just lucky.”
“It’s hard to be lucky,” Mr. Blaine said. “Sometimes it’s better not to be lucky. You’re lucky that you didn’t hurt yourself or anyone else. Now, I want you to promise me that you’ll never shoot at anything but a target.”
“I promise,” Johnny said. “I won’t ever shoot at anything except a target.”
“Good boy,” Mr. Blaine said. “Now, I’d like to ask you some questions about the shooting. Why did you shoot at the ground?”
“I don’t know,” Johnny said. “I can’t explain it. It was just a reflex.”
“Do you think it was an accident?” Mr. Blaine asked.
“I guess so,” Johnny said. “But accidents do happen.”
“They do,” Mr. Blaine said. “You need to be more careful.”
“Yes, sir,” Johnny said.
“Now, let’s talk about something else,” Mr. Blaine said. “How are you getting along with your brothers?”
“Fine,” Johnny said. “They’re good boys.”
“Are they respectful?” Mr. Blaine asked.
“Of course,” Johnny said. “We treat them the same way we treated you when you were growing up.”
“That’s good,” Mr. Blaine said. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ve heard good things about you.”
“Thank you,” Johnny said. “I’m glad to hear that too.”
“I have a few more questions for you,” Mr. Blaine said. “What did you do after you shot at the ground?”
“I went into the house,” Johnny said. “I thought I might be able to get it out of my system by taking a bath.”
“And did you?” Mr. Blaine asked.
“No,” Johnny said. “I didn’t.”
“Why not?” Mr. Blaine asked.
“Because I was too scared,” Johnny said. “I knew I couldn’t stop myself if I took a bath.”
“You didn’t take a bath?” Mr. Blaine asked.
“No, sir,” Johnny said. “I don’t think I could have taken one.”
“You’re right,” Mr. Blaine said. “You couldn’t have taken a bath. That would have been a mistake. You should never take a bath when you’re in that kind of a state.”
The End