The Daughter by C.B. Cooper (robert munsch read aloud .TXT) 📕

to Zeb, “I thought this god damned town looked familiar. I think I’ve been here before.”
“I reckon you have, and made quite an impression from the looks of it. That feller’s right pissed off, what’d ya do?”
Sam ran a tired hand down his face, “I slept with his wife- a long time ago.”
“Oh damn! A man ain’t likely to forget something like that, no matter how long it’s been.” Zeb noticed that when Sam looked at him, that his eyes were more that just a tad bit crossed. “You best duck on out the back son, your in no condition to fight that big ugly som’bitch. Your flying higher than a two bit whore with a five dollar gold piece.”
The mans voice boomed again reverberating off the clapboard walls, “I said, where’s that dirty rotten son of a bitch, Sam Sharp!”
From somewhere in the quiet crowd someone asked, “What’re ya lookin’ fer him for?”
“Because that no-good, low-down, piece of shit slept with my wife, that’s why!”
Someone else in the crowd mumbled out loud, “Who hasn’t?”
Stifled snickers and low chuckles sounded around the room.
The large hulk of a man looked wildly around the room, his eyes bulging, “Who said that! Who the fuck said that! I’ll fight any man who dares call my wife a whore!” he bellowed like a wounded bull.
Of course no one said a word.
As the events of that perticular night came back to Sam, he figured in all honesty, the man had a right to be pissed. He probably did deserve a good beating for it, but that didn’t mean he was a glutten for punishment, either.
“I’m out of here. Tell Libby that I’ll be back as soon as that jackass leaves.”
His chair scraped louder than he intended it to as he slid it back. Ducking his head he made for the back door. He had just about made it too, but then he heard, “You there! Stop and turn around!”
Shit. He was busted, and he knew it. There was no sense in trying to hide now, even though the last thing he wanted to do was fight the big son of a bitch.
Sam straightened slowly and turned to face the music. “Hello, Bob.” he said sheepishly.
Bob’s eyes narrowed, “Sharp! Get out in the street, I’m gonna beat yer scrawny ass and tear you limb from limb.”
Sam hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans and rocked back on his heels, and almost tipped over, “Come on, Bob. It’s been what, fifteen years? Can’t we just settle this like gentlemen?”
“I said, get outside!” Bob raged. The color of his face was steadily going from a beet red to a dark motled purple, not a good sign.
Sam tipped the brim of his hat back on his head, “You know, to be fair, she never told me she had a husband…or three kids.”
Murmers of agreement went around the bar, they obviously knew what type of woman she was, but Bob looked like he was ready to have a stroke, “Don’t you stand there and play innocent! You might not a knowed she was married at first, but then after I caught your naked ass diving out my bedroom window, what’d you go and do? You went and let all my stock loose. And then when I went out, chasing them from here to kingdom come, you snuck back in to finish the job!”
Zeb, still sitting at their table, snorted and shook his head, “Oh, shiiit.” he drawled.
The men in the crowd snickered again. This time Bob chose to ignore them.
Shit was right, Sam had no recollection of that. In a show of surrender, he threw up his arms, “Alright Bob, you got me. But to tell you the truth, I’ve had a little bit to drunk tonight. Is there anyway we could postpone this hooraw until tomorrow?”
“Out!”
“Really, Bob, tomorrow would be…”
“I said, OUT!”
“Okay, okay! Just thought I’d ask.”
As Sam made his way through the crowd, men were patting him on the back solemly, showing him that they knew the gravity of the situation, but their eyes sparkled with the prospect of blood shed. Life could get pretty boring in a sleepy little north texas town.
Libby was there too. She met him in the middle of the room and planted a big wet one on his lips, “Good luck, cowboy.” she smiled, “I’ll be waiting for you.”
Sam was starting to feel a little like a spring lamb being lead to slaughter.
When he reached the front of the saloon, Bob shoved him roughly through the double doors, then followed closely behind. Out on the boardwalk he pushed him aside so he could be the first one down the steps.
Zeb took the opportunity to pull Sam aside. “You cant fight him in your condition, he’ll tear yer house down fer sure. But don’t you worry none, I’ve got a plan,” he whispered quickly.
Zeb had been around a long time. He had seen and done things that most men only dreamed of doing. He couldn’t have gotten to be his age with learning a thing or two along the way about survival.
Sam was relieved to have someone who could impart some wisdom in this dire situation. “Okay. What’s your plan?” he asked hopefully.
Zeb took a hold of Sam’s shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. “When he hits ya… fall down.”
It took a moment for the answer to fully reach Sam’s alcohol soaked mind, and then another minute for Sam to come to the conclusion that that was the stupidest plan he had ever heard. He stared at the old man incredulously, “Fall down? That’s all you have, is fall down!”
“Ya! Just fall down, pretend yer knocked out, maybe he’ll just give up and leave ya alone.”
“Where in the hell did you come apon that little bit of wisdom?”
“I heard it somewhere…” Zeb scratched his temple, “Although, I think it had something to do with a bear… ya! It was definatley a bear.” he shrugged, “Same thing. It’s worth a try though, aint it?”
Sam thought about the plan, and then smiled a bit lopsided, “You know, that might just work, Zeb.” Sam took Zeb by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes, “I just want you to know- that you’re my best friend. But, I have a funny feeling, that when I look back on this tomorrow, I’m gonna figure out this is all your fault somehow.”
Zeb nodded his grey head solemly, but his eyes sparkled mischieviously, “You probably will, at that.” he admitted, “But I’m not the one that diddled that man’s wife, either. Now, you best git down there and git it over with. Makin’ that giant wait wont improve his mood any.”
As Sam turned reluctantly and walked down the stairs, he watched Bob pacing angrily back and forth in the street, his gigantic feet kicking up little dust clouds with each step. He could tell the man was rapidly working himself into a mad frenzy.
“Shit.”
Unbuckling his gunbelt, he handed the rigging to Zeb for safe keeping. “You hold on to these, and don’t sell them off as suveniors till your sure I’m dead.”
Zeb smiled and winked, “I wont. Now, go git ’im, tiger.”
Sam walked slowly out into the dusky street. He was readying himself to face his opponent, when he heard a high, trilling voice call, “Yoo-hoo, Sam! Over here.”
He looked across the street to the woman standing in front of Hank’s barber shop, smiling and waving.
It was Bob’s wife. “Hi, Sam!” she sang again.
He gave her a half-hearted wave in return and grumbled, “Hi, Lorraine.”
Jesus, what had he been thinking? She was as ugly as a mud fence, and almost as wide. He couldn’t believe he was about to get clobbered over that. Now, someone like Libby- that he could see. Hell, he’d gladly hand over over a couple of ribs and some spilled blood for a night between the sheets with her.
Movement caught Sam’s attention and he crouched as Bob came towards him.
Then he heard the high pitched voice of Lorraine yelling, “You leave him alone, you big bully! Your just jealous cause I told you he has a bigger pecker than you!”
Sam’s jaw dropped as he turned to stare at the mud fence in disbelief. He was shocked she would say such a thing to her husband. Did she have no shame?
Caught off guard, he never even seen the big fist flying at him. With the first bone crushing blow, Sam’s world went black.
When he came to, he was vaguely aware of people yelling and cussing, and it took a moment for the searing pain to register in his spongy brain. All at once, two things became very clear in his mind.
One, Zeb had been very wrong. Bob didn’t care if he was unconscious through the beating, just as long as he was getting beat.
And two, if the pain and blood were any indication, his nose was probably broken, as well as a rib or two.
At present, Bob was holding him up by his shirt front with one beefy hand, while he delivered blow after vicious blow with his other. Sam’s head lolled uncontrollably to the side as he tried to throw his weight backwards to break the hold.
Bob’s arm was cocked and ready to fire again when a loud gunshot pierced the early evening air and froze everyone in their spots. Only their eyes moved to the person standing in the middle of the street holding a mean looking scatter gun.
Libby, looking downright sexy in her red silky dress, eared back on the second hammer and steadied a bead on Bob’s head. “He’s had enough, Bob. Let him go.”
Bob hesitated, fighting to reach a decision, until she yelled again “I said, let him go!” She meant business, and she had the make and mettle to back it up.
Bob let go, and Sam crumpled to the hard packed ground like a sack of spuds. His head was spinning, and his vision was blurred, but he managed to look up at Libby and smile, “I think I love you.”
Libby winked and smiled back, then turned her attention back to Bob, “Your done here. Get your wife and go home.”
Bob was infuriated at the interuption, “I don’t have to listen to no whore!” He yelled, breathing hard and glaring at her defiantly.
“You’ll listen… or,” she lowered the barrel of the gun, “I’ll blow off that tiny pecker between your legs- your choice, Bob.”
In the end, a frustrated Bob decided that a little pecker was better than no pecker at all, and left with the squalling mud fence in tow.
Libby picked a couple of men out of the crowd told them to carry Sam up to her room. “Don’t you worry, cowboy, I’ll be gentle,” she whispered into his ear when he finally regained his feet with help of the two men.
Sam looked into her beautiful blue eyes and teased, “I still think I love you.”
She leaned forward, and whispered in his ear, “If you only think it now, I promise- you’ll know it by morning.”


Libby’s room was on the upper deck of the Red River Saloon, last door on the left, facing the main street. Sharp let his eyes roam around the small, cramped room. The ceiling was just dark exposed rafters, and the walls were old faded grey, rough-hewn boards. There were only two windows, both facing the noisey dusty street, and both were cracked, hanging slightly askew