Dawn in Damnation. Clark Casey

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СКАЧАТЬ a few rounds, some folks expected the baby might just crawl up into the saloon looking for its momma.

      “All this talk of dead babies gives me the willies,” Fat Wally confessed.

      “You’re in a room full of dead men, and a harmless baby scares you?” Sneaky Jim teased.

      “But you can reason with a man, or shoot ’em. A dead baby could crawl up and smother you in your sleep.”

      “Why would it wanna do that?” I asked.

      “Revenge, I expect,” Red said. “Jack Finney was madder than a wet hen ’cause he never got to grow any hair on his balls. Wouldn’t you be cross if you got killed before you was even born?”

      The men continued playing cards, but every so often their eyes drifted to the door. Couldn’t help but wonder where that kid might’ve gone. A few candles burned out and Sal didn’t bother replacing them, so everywhere you looked was a dark corner a dead baby might crawl up in. Amidst the speculating, the doors suddenly swung open and the room silenced. We expected the child really was going to come crawling in. Then the Chinaman appeared in the doorway and everyone laughed.

      “Ah fuck you, cowboy asshole!” he grumbled then walked over to the bar so Sal could give him his wages for hauling away bodies and tending to the pigs. Then he went straight to the poker table and lost it all in half an hour. Afterward, he sat back at the bar and had a few drinks on credit.

      The Chinaman had been in Damnation long before me, so I never got his story for The Crapper. Seemed like a nice enough fella, but I usually called it a night before he came in and never had the opportunity to shoot the breeze with him.

      The boldness of a few whiskeys took hold of me, so I turned and asked him, “What did you do to get here, anyway?”

      He looked at me kind of funny. He knew some English but didn’t seem to understand what I was getting at.

      “Where were you before you was here?” I asked.

      “Ohio,” he said hesitantly. “Work at pig farm. One night I feed pig, then fall… Hit head. Wake up here. Not know how get.” He sipped his drink nervously like maybe I was the one who took him.

      “You mean to tell me you fell down in a pigpen and bumped your head, and you think you got shanghaied and brought here?”

      “No from Shanghai,” he said angrily. “From Manchuria.”

      “Did you ever do anything bad?” I asked. “You know something that might keep you from going to heaven?”

      The Chinaman looked a might bit upset. I felt sorry for bringing up bad memories, but with him not knowing English so well, I reckoned it could help him understand how he wound up in Damnation. He took another sip of his drink. I don’t imagine he confided with many people, so he probably had some desire to unburden himself.

      “Left family in China long time ago,” he began. “Work on railroad to send money home. Then begin drink sometime. Then gamble sometime. No more send money home long time.” He looked both ways to make sure no one was listening. “Also kill brother.”

      Sal placed a small stack of chips in front of the Chinaman and told him it was an advance on next week’s wages. He took it happily and headed over to the poker table.

      “You know, I don’t think the Celestial even knows he’s dead,” I informed Sal. “Nobody ever told him, so he thinks he’s still alive! He fell in a pigpen. Probably got torn to pieces!”

      “No shit, Tom! Don’t tell him though,” Sal scolded. “If he finds out he’s dead, he ain’t gonna wanna work no more. Then there’ll be nobody to haul them bodies away and tend to the pigs. As is, he still hopes he might win a bundle at the poker table and be able to pay for his family to come to America.”

      I scowled at Sal for his rotten four-flushing ways. “It ain’t right,” I declared. “If there’s one thing a man deserves to know, it’s that’s he’s dead. Can’t go on deceiving him just to get cheap labor.”

      “You think it’s just for me? Look at him!” Sal said. The Chinaman’s rosy cheeks were raised in a broad smile as he picked up his cards. “He’s the happiest dang man in the room. He likes working with them pigs, too. And when he gambles, it actually means something to him. Ain’t just a distraction like for the rest of these stiffs. He’s the only one in Damnation with any hope. Hell, if I could trade places with him, I’d do it in a heartbeat. But if you wanna tell him he’s dead and there ain’t no chance of him seeing his family ever again, be my guest! Not sure what good it’ll do though.”

      I had to think on it some. The Chinaman went on a roll and won a few hands. He soon doubled his money, but he didn’t know how to stop when he was ahead. The drink went to his head and he started chasing bad hands with good money, giving it all back just as fast. When it was all gone, he just shrugged and headed for the door. I still wasn’t sure if it was better to let him hope for something that wasn’t ever going to happen. I decided to turn in not long after. As I turned the corner outside the saloon, the Chinaman was down on all fours on the boardwalk. He had spotted a coin that had dropped between the planks and was trying to fish it out with a couple of sticks.

      “Pardon me, sir,” I said and he stood with a start. As he turned, he already had an itty-bitty derringer drawn.

      “There’s no need for that,” I told him with my hands skyward. “I got to tell you something, sir. I’m not sure if you wanna hear it, but I feel it’s every man’s right to know. You ain’t among the living no more, friend.”

      A bewildered look came over his face.

      “You’re dead,” I said plainly.

      His round cheeks lifted in a strange smile. “No shit! Me no stupid.” He giggled playfully.

      “Oh, Sal told me you weren’t aware.”

      “Don’t tell him,” the Chinaman said worriedly. “Me like work with pig. Only friend in town. If Sal know I wanna work, he pay less.”

      Seemed they were both satisfied with their little arrangement, so who was I to spoil it. Besides, I didn’t know any better way.

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