The Mule Tamer by John C. Horst

Author:John C. Horst [Horst, John C.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2012-01-13T05:00:00+00:00

XI A Deal With the Devil

The young deputy was visited three more times by the man in the mustard suit. He was beaten each time. He did not know why. He did nothing wrong. He did nothing, really but sleep, eat a little and smoke the pipe when they let him, which was less and less often. He seemed to need more of it as time progressed and they gave him less. He could not understand.

One day the old man and the German came to visit. The deputy sat up in bed, put his legs to the side and sat as upright as he dared. He was always about to vomit, it seemed. He received no beating this time. He sat quietly and did not look up. He responded to their questions, but said no more.

“He’s ready, I believe.” The German was impressed. He did not hold much hope and did not really care. The man in the mustard suit was a minor player in his scheme, but he was a zealot for the cause and a zealot anarchist was not to be ignored. He let the man in the mustard suit proceed. They talked with their backs turned to the young deputy. He could not hear what they were saying. He had no energy, and wanted to sleep. He found himself unable to control himself any longer, and fell back on the bed. The man in the mustard suit looked over his shoulder, then back at the German. They spoke some more.

The deputy was jarred from his sleep as he was being pulled by his hair from his bed. The old man threw him to the floor and began kicking him. He kicked him on every part of his body, then grabbed a coal shovel and beat him with that. He beat him until the old man was wheezing and too weak to swing the shovel any more. Great streams of drool ran out of the old man’s mouth as he worked the young deputy over. He could feel it run onto his neck and back. It made him more nauseous. He could feel the beating and the drool but by this time, the deputy could not see. The old man left him there, on the floor of the laundry. The deputy did not understand.

Ging Wa waited until the old man left. She pulled the deputy with all her might, and got him back on the bed. She cleaned him and made him comfortable. Went out to get him some soup. When she returned he was staring at the ceiling. He cried great tears that rolled down his face and onto his pillow. He did not try to hide them from Ging Wa. She fed him, all the while dabbing his tears away, and saying nothing. He shook and cried until his hysteria gave way to exhaustion. He lay still, breathing shallowly, trying to gain control. Ging Wa held him, brushed his hair away and hummed her tune. He was utterly broken.

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