The sun begins to rise in a blood-red sky over the town of Hobbs, situated rather in the heart of the New Mexico Territory. Formed some 15 years before, the town has grown significantly since, largely due to settlers traveling through to California, or gangs passing down towards Mexico for trouble and profit. To the north lie the Territories of Utah and Colorado, still largely inhabited by various Indian Tribes.
Back East, there's a War on. In a matter of weeks, the country itself has split. Being that there are 34 states, it weren't much concern when South Carolina decided to leave on its own. It weren't much either when Mississippi or Florida joined. But as time wore on, it began to be more and more of the Southern states.
Now we find ourselves stuck in the middle. California to our West supports the Union, while our neighbor Texas supports the Confederacy. More and more troops pass through our territory, trying to convince us to join their side, while they march off to their deaths.
Some good men have signed up and gone off to fight for what they believed, leaving their wives to do their best, and their sons to pick up the slack. Can't say whether it's helping or not, but I can tell you about the type of men it leaves behind...
Early on in its existence, Hobbs gained the nickname "The Rock" for a 60' stone obelisk that stands in the middle of town. The Territory's been passed around between the Spanish and Mexicans before, so it may have come from there, but no one can say. No one can say, either, what the symbols engraved on it are likely to mean.
But those who live there accept it as though its part of the natural formation of the land. Sometimes there are rivers, sometimes mountains, sometimes giant obelisks. The nickname has taken on another meaning in the last few months, representing a sort of stability. Even as the skies turn ashen, as rivers run red with blood, as brother kills brother, Hobbs remains unmoved.
Whatever reasons you have for being here, they're your own. Your business is your own. Your past lies where you left it, ready to rear its head when its most inconvenient. You may think of Hobbs as being a boomtown, a place that will thrive even more as the conflicts grow - but it's just as likely to be a powder keg waiting to blow up in your face.
One by one, Benji, Elle, and Talulah open their eyes to face the sobering light of day, and realities of their lives, for better or worse.
Elle quickly rose from bed and with a spring in her step opened the curtains of the sun facing windows of her house. She owned a small 4 room cottage tucked away on a convenient side street two blocks from The Stop. Her daily morning routine consisted of stretches, basic calisthenics, 2 cups of water and a small bowl of oatmeal. She then moved about the bedroom, straightening the sheets and getting dressed while water boiled for coffee. Elle was feeling particularly spry this morning. Last night had featured a particularly lively dance after a wedding party had transitioned from the church to the bar in full ceremonial regalia. If the amount of vomit produced by the newly weds was any indication, they were going to need this coffee as much as Lilly and her night owls. Elle was out the door, tin coffee pot in hand.
Benji wakes before the sun can rise and the rooster can crow. He tries to be careful not to wake Rosie as he slips out of bed, but her eyes blink open after him as he stands.
"Don't you get up yet. Let me make you coffee," Rosie murmurs. Benji shrugs.
"Charlie's fussing," he says. And it's true. Charlie's old enough not to fuss but he's been doing it anyway as of late. Something's upsetting him, but no one knows what. Some of the animals have felt it, too. Stirring and spooking for no reason, not as far as Benji can tell.
Rosie readies herself and makes to go to the kitchen. "Still, you'll need breakfast," she says. "You and whoever else is up."
At that, Abigail pokes her head out of her room. "I'd like some pancakes." Benji half-agrees, but she should've been home early enough last night to already be up and minding the kitchen. His wife seems to agree.
Rosie scoffs. "If you want pancakes, make them yourself. You're old enough to fix your own breakfast."
Little Charlie opens his door as well. "Pancakes?" he asks, in a querulous voice. Benji's heart breaks enough to yield.
"Fix pancakes for your brother," he barks at Abigail. "And coffee for me and your mam."
Benji stares wistfully out the window as his home sputters to life. Even from here, he can make out the foggy shadows of John and George. Good boys. Minding their chores.
Charlie squeals as Abigail scoops him up and races down the stairs. What Benji wouldn't give for a moment of stillness.
Elle quickly gets to the tavern to find it quiet. Even with having completed her usual morning routine, none of the patrons had woken up yet - presumably due to how late the party had gone. Lilly was of course there, as well as Elle's own overnight staff, all of whom greeted her warmly as she arrived.
Lilly in particular seemed as full of energy as Elle felt, despite looking exhausted. There was something about weddings that the excitement was contagious. Her girls had put on some fantastic dances, and while none of them were still present, Elle knew from past experience that it would have raised their spirits as well.
The family sits down to have breakfast together - having given even John and George a short break - in one of those simple moments that are often taken for granted when they're no longer possible. Through breakfast, Abigail is somewhat fidgety, torn between her desire to talk about the wedding party from the previous night, and wanting to avoid a lecture from her father. Eventually, the silence becomes too great, and she bursts, gushing about the dances, the style of dress, and just how much fun it was.
Lilly, I'm putting the coffee on the bar. Make sure you and yours get first dibs. I'm sure the walking dead will be up and about soon. I'll be back in a few. I'm headed out to the Williams' farm for some eggs. If you want to start on some of the meat in the basement I'd appreciate it. Oh, let's do last night again. Elle headed back out into the light. Hopefully it would be a quick trip and back from the Williams' farm for eggs.
Sunlight starts peeking into the opening of the tent, and Talulah groans, rolls over, and reaches into her bag for her tobacco.
She rolls the tobacco, lights it, and takes in her first deep, glorious drag of the day. There's nothing quite like the first morning inhale of tobacco.
She crouches and crawls out of the tent. The fire, while not flaming, is still smoldering, and she grabs the leftover snake from last night, spears it with her knife, and positions it above the coals to cook.
As her breakfast cooks, she rolls up her tent and gathers her things. She needs to be in town early to find out what she can about Quentin's crew, and if anybody's seen them. She figures her first stop will be the watering hole, The Stop. Tavern's usually the hot spot for rumors, and she knows she can't be the only one looking for them, so she wants to be the first to rustle the bushes.
She grabs her knife, wolfs down the snake, and puts her pack on her back.
The early bird catches the worm, or in this case the hunter, her criminal crew.
Lilly nods with a smile, accustomed to Elle's taking charge and doling out duties. "Can't promise another bout of last night, less you want to get yourself hitched, but I'll get my best girls on the meat." Her eyes twinkle as she can't help but make a crude joke about how great her girls are with meat, but Elle is already out the door.
The trip over to the Williams Farm is quiet and uneventful. There are some nods and greetings as everyone goes about their daily lives. Across what passes for a street, you can see Richard Commstock asking a woman holding a reasonably newborn baby some questions. No doubt looking to get an announcement in the paper about the birth.
After a short walk, Elle reaches the farm only to find that John and George are nowhere to be seen - unusual for this time of morning.
As Talulah enters the town and starts on her way towards the Lockwood Stop, she's met with several uneasy glances. A few of the children on their way to school see her coming and even cross to the other side of the street, keeping a reasonable distance, as their curiosity is subverted by lessons burned into their brains from an early age.
It isn't until she is almost there that she receives any kind of greeting. "Mornin', lass." Turning, she can see Sheriff Henry Beauregard standing on the porch of the small building that serves as a police station, jail, and even his home. After his wife's death he'd been spending less and less time in his own house, and jumped at the opportunity to give it away to a young mother who'd arrived with nearly nothing after her caravan had been hit by bandits.
He's standing a bit hunched over, so that his arms can rest on the railing, and his stomach hangs underneath like a cow's udder. His hair's going grey, but his eyes, while red and a bit puffy, still look sharp.
He takes a deep breath of fresh air. "Gonna be a hot one today. Yessiree"
Knowing that gossip can occasionally help Lilly out with her clientele and that Richard could be a little unwelcoming in general, Elle casually crosses the within earshot. She carefully listens to the conversation.
Elle scans the horizon for the Boys as she approaches the farm. Finding none of Benji's kids, she looks for some of his "help".
Abby is so engrossed in the recounting of her evening that she doesn't see Benji's fist clenching or Rosie's eyes narrowing. "You went to the Lockwood's?" Rosie asks. "After your pa said he better never catch you around there again?" Benji clears his throat. He hadn’t said exactly that, but he knows better than to interrupt his wife. Charlie squeals and bangs his spoon against the table.
At Rosie's words, Abby begins to shrink in her seat. She protests quietly, "Ma, it wasn't like that. I wasn't alone. A bunch of girls were invited to the wedding, and..." John and George exchange glances before fixing their eyes back to their plates.
Rosie shakes her head, furious. ”The wedding was in a church," she hisses. "Not in a brothel.” Charlie has thrown all of his silverware out of reach at this point and begun to wail. Benji winces. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a brilliant flash of color through the window. Benji excuses himself, pats Rosie once on the shoulder, and heads out toward the unmistakable woman wandering around on his farm.
“Miss Elle,” Benji says, as respectfully as he can muster. ”Can I help you?”
While Elle moves closer to Commstock, she can hear the pair speaking in a mixture of Spanish and English as she listens. The girl's grasp of English is not great, and neither is Commstock's grasp of Spanish, but they're making it work. His typical impatience for wanting to get a story finished "on time" seems to be dissipated by her and her baby's demeanor. His sentences are still short and to the point, but the woman doesn't seem bothered, and may even appreciate the simplicity. Occasionally the two lapse into some Spanish when there's a word that she can't think of.
The conversation is slow going, so Elle doesn't get much, but the gist of what she hears is that the girl's name is Rosalita and her baby is Ernesto, named after her father, who was taken from them while getting them to Hobbs.
While Elle is looking around the farm, she can see the slaves at work, only adding more uncertainty to the situation. Certainly if the help was around, so too should be the family. As you're gazing around, and presumably making your way towards the house, the door swings open, and you're faced with a very red-faced Benji, his knuckles going white gripping the open door.
"Morning, Sheriff," Talulah nods and replies as she tries to quickly pass by. She had hoped to come early enough into town not be noticed by the Sheriff. Being Navajo, there's no chance of just sliding into town entirely without leering eyes, but apparently, she overslept for her entry into Hobbs.
Sheriff stops her. "What brings you into town today..." His sentence trails off as he catches her eye and gives an expectant look, waiting for a name.
"Talulah. Looking for information. Was going to stop by the saloon."
"What kinda information there? Anything I could help with?"
Talulah gives the Sheriff a hard stare while she tries to estimate his trustworthiness. Typically, sheriffs were prejudiced like the rest of the people in these tiny towns against Natives, and the search for The Q Crew might bring some trouble into Hobbs.
"Heard they were looking for a bartender, and I'm in need of a job." Better to keep the hunt under wraps for now.
"Elle sure is," the Sheriff replied. "I'll walk ya over."
"Thanks, but I can walk by myself."
"Oh I'm sure, but I was headin' that way anyway. Gotta talk to Elle," he says as he sidles up next to Talulah.
Talulah nods and begrudgingly accepts the escort.
Looks like I'll be staying longer than I thought, she thinks to herself.
Elle, feeling confident that the woman wasn't being harassed, continues on her way to the farm for eggs. It wasn't worth getting caught up in another of Commstock's line of questioning and Lilly would have to be satisfied hearing that the production of children hadn't slowed down. It was boring gossip, but not everything Commstock reported on was worth reading about.
Se hacia arriba lloviendo bebés en esta perra.
Elle smiles and approaches slowly. Benji looks slightly grumpier than usual. Hola señor Williams. Buenos días. Sorry to bother you, but I didn't see any of your boys around. I was hoping to buy some fresh eggs from you. I'll take some fruit as well if anything is in season.
Benji grunts. ”No fruit.” Rosie is still shrieking, audible even from here. He steps outside and carefully closes the door behind him. ”Got some eggs, though.”
He starts off towards the barn without any confirmation Elle is following. ”Boys are eating breakfast,” he says without turning. Benji wishes breakfast had been a quieter affair but he’s glad for the escape Elle’s offered. He ignores all attempts at conversation and Elle follows him through the barn until they arrive at the chicken coop.
”How many? Benji asks, gesturing at the hen house. He shifts uncomfortably. Before Elle can respond, he adds, ”Abigail was at your place last night. She get into any trouble?
Talulah's walk over to the Lockwood Stop is an uneventful and quiet few minutes. The Sheriff makes a few sidelong glances at her, whether curious or looking for something specific, she can't say, but he remains quiet.
When they reach the Lockwood Stop, the Sheriff holds the door open for Talulah to enter first, something she's very unaccustomed to. Walking in, she can see three girls. There are two young ones, perhaps late teens, seated at a table with mugs in front of them, and a third seated at the bar, leafing through the morning paper. She's clearly older than the others. "Morning, Henry" She says warmly. After looking intently at Talulah for a second, she greets her a "Good morning." as well, though not nearly as warm.
The Sheriff nods to her with a smile. "Lilly." He looks around for a second, his eyes passing over the younger girls fleetingly. "Elle around?"
With a shake of her head, Lilly puts down the paper. "She's over at the Williams's, getting eggs. Something I can do?"
"Maybe." He nods to the Navajo standing next to him. "This is Talulah, says she's coming in looking for a the bartending job."
Lilly slightly raises an eyebrow, looking at the dirty woman with a pack and a giant axe on her back. "That so?" Lilly asks, though her intonation makes it sound far more like a statement. "Well, Elle should be back soon." Reaching over the bar, she picks up a half-full coffee pot and swirls it around a bit. "Coffee?"
As soon as Benji begins his trek towards the eggs, Elle's eyes shift over to the house where she hears Rosie yelling. That poor girl is really getting it. She imagined Rosie lifting a man over her head and clearing him across a table.
Her eyes shifted over to the back of Benji's head. It had only been a matter of time before they found out Abigail was hanging out around The Stop. Elle appreciate her presence there and had grown somewhat fond of her. She was smart, strong willed, and seemed like she could take care of herself. If only she could avoid a conversation with Benji about it...
”How many? Benji asks, gesturing at the hen house. He shifts uncomfortably. Before Elle can respond, he adds, ”Abigail was at your place last night. She get into any trouble?
Elle moved closer to meet Benji's eyes under the brim of his hat. She let her smile fade into a serious visage and without hesitating said slowly, "Yes sir, she was. And no trouble. I can understand if you're worried, but you know she's a smart girl. I want you to know that we look after those who might need some looking after, señor Williams."
There was some small hope in her that maybe some of the more wholesome stories of the Stop had floated out this way. At one point Elle had shot a man in the leg who was hell bent on "fighting every mother f+%~er" in the Stop. Lilly had broken a bottle over his face to knock him out cold which cost him his eye as well. Through the wind between mouths and ears the story had turned into Elle shooting a man in the back of the knees and Lilly shoving the broken fragments of his teeth into his fingernails and eyes for threatening one of the workers. We aren't that mean...and that would require us to find all those little fragments...
Her bright smile returned. "I'll have 24 eggs if that would be ok." She looked back towards the sounds coming out of the house. "Everybody needs a little escape...Why don't you come down to The Stop? It might put your mind at ease."
Benji snorts. “No." He politely turns it into a small cough. "No, thank you, Miss Elle. Don’t imagine I’ll be needing... your kind of escape any time soon.” He sets himself to work gathering eggs. Henrietta is laying less than usual. Must be stress. He sighs. And of course Miss Elle hasn’t brought any basket or some such with her. Benji sighs again, softly, to the eggs. “‘Course,” he mutters.
He can still hear Rosie shrieking from the house. Unkind things about miss Elle. Most true, some not. Having collected her two dozen, Benji straightens. ”I do apologize about that,” he says, nodding towards the house. ”Rosie’s none too happy about Abby-- about Abigail running around all by herself.”
Benji doesn’t hold anything against miss Elle. He knows how hard it is to make a living in this place, building something out of nothing. He understands she’s not a bad sort, but also he knows the kind of talk that stirs when a young girl’s around the Stop, unsupervised, unmarried. ”Your eggs,” he grunts, proffering a small satchel. ”Plus a few for yer trouble.
"Thank you," says Talulah as she takes a cup of coffee from Lilly.
She takes a seat at the bar, receiving sideways glances from the two teen girls who start giggling and whispering.
This is nothing new to her, but still annoying.
She shifts in her seat, sips her coffee, and waits for this Elle to show up.
Elle shrugs and gratefully takes the satchel. She fishes around in her own satchel for a moment before presenting the required money to Benji. I'll see you around, Mr. Williams. One of these days he'll take me up on that. A stiff drink and a few laughs with the girls would set him up right. She takes one last glance in the direction of the house and begins the journey back into the town. Without any additional stops, it was time to get back to the Lockwood Stop.
As Elle takes a last look at the house, she can see Abigail peeking through a window at her, and flashes a huge smile and an enthusiastic wave. As Benji also turns back towards the house, her eyes go a bit wide and she tries to drop out of sight, but it's too late, and he notices her.
As Talulah sits and waits, she can see Lilly and the Sheriff making talk across the room, but in hushed tones, and it is drowned out by the giggling girls. After a few seconds of Talulah drinking the coffee, the girls come up to her. "You're not here to become one of Lilly's girls, are you?" one asks. "There's good reason that only one of us is a Injun."
The other girl nods. "The few men that want a Prairie Nigger ain't the kind you wanna be with. Most of 'em are violent, got somethin' to prove."
The first girl looks at Talulah more closely - how dirty she is, the giant weapon on her back, and the general wear and tear of living on the fringe. It occurs to her that Talulah would indeed be quite attractive were she cleaned up, but she also notices a look in Talulah's eye that assures her that the girl is not looking to steal her life. "Bet you could handle yourself, though." She adds quickly.
Elle turns her head to the side just enough so that Abigail can see the slightly curled lips and teeth of a grin, but makes sure that Benji couldn't have caught it from the angle. She really shouldn't be encouraging the girl, but she couldn't help it. She picks up her pace and softly sings a verse from a war tune she had once begged a soldier passing through to teach her.
Daughters of freedom, the truth marches on,
Yield not the battle till ye have won!
Heed not the "corner," day by day
Clouds of oppression roll away!
To the Lockwood Stop
"Nope. I'm not that kind of girl," says Talulah, looking the first girl straight in the eye. "One of the girls here is a Native?"
Things will be even more complicated if it's someone I know. Where is that owner?!
"Yeah," The girl replies, feeling slightly uneasy. "Her name's Quanah"
Before the girls can speak further, Lilly stands up from her table across the room. The sheriff remains seated as she calls out to the girls. "Girls! Leave that one alone, she's Elle's." To Talulah, Lilly gives a barely perceptible nod.
Looking completely admonished, the girls suddenly remember that they have chores to be doing and start to dash off. The Sheriff stands up just as Lilly is about to sit down again. "I should be getting back." He says quietly. "I'll catch up with the Lady Lockwood another time".
Lilly flashes him a smile as they give cordial, if awkward, goodbyes. The sheriff tips his hat to Talulah on his way out. "Ma'am."
With just the two of them left sitting in the tavern, Lilly gives Talulah a more studied look, narrowing her eyes with uncertainty. She opens her mouth to ask a question, but before she can, Elle walks through the door.
Elle entered The Lockwood Stop with a small flourish. She smiled and then chuckled quietly at the strange awkwardness that was before her. She tried to break the silence. "Honey, I'm home!" She raised an eyebrow toward Lilly and then looked toward the stranger in the room.() She walked behind the bar and smiled toward the Indian girl sitting, trying to catch her attention for a moment. () "For a story and a song I'll give you a shot of whiskey on the house." She gently set the satchel of eggs up on the bar and looked to Lilly once again. "Eggs?" Elle shrugged, setting an empty shot glass on the bar and swinging the strap of a banjo over her head. She lazily tuned, plucking a string at a time. It was second nature at this point. "So stranger, story and a song for that glass filled? Es muy temprano en la mañana de este tipo de silencio."