This account is based on a true story from the very recent past. Some names have been altered and events dramatized but other than that, this is pretty much what really happened.
Li’l Gerr stood staring out the saloon window, his mouth agape, partially blinded by the flashing lights of the three black and yellow Expeditions dispatched to handle the dust up. A single tear formed in his slightly smaller right eye and began its trek down his unevenly stubbled cheek when it was spotted and wiped away by Barelythere Barb. Barelythere looked down at him and mournfully murmured: “Well, this really sucks”.
Li’l Gerr looked away from Barelythere and watched as the Deputies came through the saloon door surveying the gang and asked himself: “How could it all have gone so wrong?”
This was supposed to be his big night. The votes were going to come in and it was going to be clear to everyone that he would win by a landslide! Hoagieman and Tuton would hoist him on their shoulders, parade him around the room and sit him on the bar where he would perch, as the whole gang lined up to shake his hand and pat his head.
It hadn’t worked out that way. The liquor had flowed freely and the gang was giddy with anticipation. But then, the first report came in. It was clear there would be no landslide. The gangs’ mood darkened. There was blame to be placed, there were fingers to be pointed and there were scores to be settled.
There was bad blood. So much bad blood.
O’l Joe started it. Why did he have to be so damn selfish and stubborn? Why couldn’t he just hang up his saddle and mosey on into the sunset? Sure, there would be sacrifices. O’l Joe would have to give up those five-dollar contributions from the poor folks in Louisiana, Arkansas and Mississippi. He wouldn’t be able to use his campaign money to pay for his fancy dinners or to pay Dev and Guido to keep him company. He would have to give up driving down the Boulevard, admiring the giant signs with his name on them. He might even be forced to give back or give away his nest egg.
But it was time. O’l Jo had lost six elections in a row. How long did he think he could ride this horse? He might have come around and seen the light. He might have been convinced to do the right thing, for the good of the gang, if it hadn’t been for Miss Ashleigh, that conniving little vote-splitter.
Li’l Gerr knew that Miss Ashleigh had used her wiles to convince O’l Joe that he could win and return to his glory days. She had him believing that he would be leading a posse down the Avenue during the Holiday Parade! O’l Joe riding in the front, on a white stallion with Santa at the back, atop a shiny, red firetruck.
It was Ms. Ashleigh who put those ideas in O’l Joe’s head, sidling up to him like that and praising him.
It was no wonder that Ranger Rick got so mad with Miss Ashleigh for interferin’. He got so mad that during one of the gangs’ group calls he said (according to Big Ma and Hothead Earle ): “If she was my kid, I’d take a baseball bat to her!” Others recollected that he said: “If she was my kid, I’d take her out behind the barn and take a bat to her head”. It didn’t really much matter what the exact words were. Ranger Rick’s meaning was pretty darn clear! Ashleigh had got out of line and needed some sense beat into her!
It was just too bad that Big Ma was on that call. Big Ma didn’t appreciate Ranger Rick tellin’ her how to discipline one of her kin. Hothead Earle was madder than a wet hen when Big Ma told him about the baseball bat. Nobody was goin’ to suggest taking a bat to his woman behind a barn or any other locale!
Next thing you know there’s the Red Ruckus at the Meetin’ House. Ms. Ashleigh and Hothead Earle dared Ranger Rick to say to their faces what it was he would do with a baseball bat if Ms. Ashleigh was his kid. Hothead Earle and Ranger Rick were nose to nose and fixin’ to “take it outside” when folks told them to settle down and not go makin’ fools of themselves at the Meetin’ House.
But Ms. Ashleigh and Hothead Earle would not just let it go. Last night, Ms. Ashleigh had been posting all manner of nastiness on the Facebook. Telling everyone not to vote for Ranger Rick and if they wondered why, they should just call her up and ask her. But then Ms. Ashleigh couldn’t wait for people to call her up. She was so worked up she just had to put it all out there – the stuff about the baseball bat and all – where anyone could read or take a screenshot of it. Miss Ashleigh went on and on about than damn baseball bat and how Ranger Rick had threatened to beat her with it.
Miss Ashleigh claimed that she was so scared about Ranger Rick coming after her with that baseball bat that she turned him into the Sheriff and there was a report to prove it! Some folks questioned Ms. Ashleigh trying to get a better feel for what had happened. They asked: “What color was the baseball bat?” And, “Could they get a copy of that Sheriff’s report?”
Then Miss Crystal gave Miss Ashleigh the “what for” for making such a fuss on the Facebook. Miss Crystal said that Miss Ashleigh’s story about the baseball bat wasn’t “quite accurate” and it was Miss Ashleigh and Hothead Earle who started the ruckus at the Meetin’ House. Miss Crystal said that she was downright disappointed in Ms. Ashleigh for bringing up this whole mess, the night before an election, when she was an outsider and didn’t even live in town. Miss Ashleigh said she was disgusted with Miss Crystal for not standing up for women who were being threatened with baseball bats.
Looking back, Li’l Gerr had to admit that there was bad blood, but it might have all worked out if it wasn’t for the vote not being a landslide and Ms. B showing up at the saloon.
Just as the crowd was starting to boil over and looking for a way to let off some steam, someone reported that Ms. B had just been spotted going into O’l Joe’s office and there was a picture to prove it! The camera with the picture got passed around and there it was, all digitized and ready for sharing. A picture, taken through O’l Joe’s office window, of Ms. B sitting with O’l Joe. Li’l Gerr thought they both were looking kind of forlorn, but the gang didn’t see it that way. Ms. B had already made them real mad with all her flip flopping and such and she was going to be real sorry for consorting with that vote splitter.
Even so, the dust up might have been avoided if Li’l Gerr had not sent that picture and all manner of mean thoughts to Ms. B. Looking back, Li’l Gerr realized that was a mistake and he was asking for trouble. He should have figured that being the kind of gal she is, Miss B would see that picture and read those mean thoughts and head right on over to the saloon to set things right. Clear the air! After all, she was just trying to cheer up O’l Joe, make him feel a little bit better about hanging up his saddle and having to pay Dev and Guido to hang out with him out of his own pocket. Folks would understand.
But folks didn’t understand.
When Ms. B and her gentleman friend swung open the door of the Saloon things got real ugly-real fast.
As he watched the deputies make their rounds, Li’l Gerr shook his head and tried hard to remember who did what and who they did it to. He knew it was just a matter of time before the Deputies would ask him for his story. But it had happened so fast it was all kind of a blur and he couldn’t see over all those heads.
Li’l Gerr did remember that there was yelling and shoving. There was a lot of red faces and angry words directed at Ms. B. He remembered that Barelythere said mean words to Ms. B and gave Ms. B’s arm a good tug or twist. Li’l Gerr also remembered that the gentleman friend didn’t take kindly to the gang going after Ms. B like that and got himself all mixed up in fisticuffs until he was tossed out the door looking kind of battered and beat up.
Li’l Gerr boosted himself up on the bar stool waiting for the Deputies. He looked in the mirror and tried the best he could to clear his head. He was pretty sure that his usual approach to these types of things (denyin’ and deceivin’) wouldn’t work.
His only hope was to keep this thing quiet. He could only pray to Tony’s god that word of the dust up didn’t get out. The only problem with that was the folks in a meeting just up the street. Those folks didn’t much like Li’l Gerr or the gang and he was pretty sure that one of them would have spotted the black and yellow Expeditions and those damn flashin’ lights.
Barely there was right, Li’l Gerr thought: “This really does suck”.