February, 2012

Issue #29

The Willow Garden
by Tony Burnett

Down in the willow garden
Where me and my love did meet . . .
That's where I murdered that dear little girl
Whose name was Rose Conlee.
            ~traditional bluegrass ballad~

My name is Byron Elliot Conlee, christened for my father, for his father, to five generations. Many men have perished by my hand, more than can be claimed by the most heinous outlaw or the most valiant soldier. You will not, however, find my name among the dime novels or academic testaments of our time. I am but a tool of justice. I am the hangman.

I have looked into the eyes of men preparing to cross the river Styx and I have seen many things. The righteous walk the final steps with dignity and grace. It is the men with dark, evil souls who protest. I have dragged these men, crying like a wounded child, clutching at anything, up the gallows stair.

I once chanced to meet a well known gunfighter. He had delivered the body of a notorious cattle thief to the magistrate and was paid five hundred dollars, tenfold the payment I receive for a single death. We were in the local saloon one evening. When he discovered my occupation, we had occasion to discuss men of honor. He claimed they never cry for mercy when faced with death. "These ghosts ride with you throughout your days." The notches on the ivory handle of his revolver numbered seventeen. I countered that I had no such ghosts. I am only an agent in a legal system bringing civilized society to the frontier, an agent of man's law and of God's law. My own mother gave her life to this frontier. She believed a civilized society was God's will. I plan to prove her right. I am not the judge. I am but a means.

The gunfighter professed to know the souls of men. "As I rode into this town," he stated, "mothers pulled their children indoors, men turned their faces away and I was told I was not welcome at the inn. Even the women of the bordello had no bed for me. I was forced to sleep in the livery with my mount. Let me demonstrate the fickleness of the human character." He called the bartender over, purchased a bottle of top shelf Kentucky bourbon and loudly proclaimed, "Drinks all around until this bottle is dry." Not one patron refused his drink. "I have ghosts," he said. "You have them as well. It is only honor that is in short supply."

It was some years before I met that man again. Were it not for our previous encounter I must wonder if he would have climbed the stairs in such a regal manner, asking for no hood, only that he end his life looking into the setting sun. His last wish was that I be given his revolver. At the time of his passing the stock had twenty-three notches and I received my initial ghost.

The sunlight was illuminating the low crests of the surrounding hills. In this lush valley, however, a thick mist sat heavily on the laconic river. We had searched most of the night, my father and I, accompanied by the sheriff and several town folk. She had not returned by the fall of night. Her place at the supper table had not been visited. By the ten o'clock hour we were searching. The night had passed slowly with no results. The dawning of the day allowed a visual benefit but deepened our concern. I was the unfortunate soul to spot the whiteness tangled on the riverbank. I scrambled through the brush with my heart thumping my throat. As I approached, my body slowed as the brambles tore at my legs. My hands were bloodied by branches. I found myself knee-deep in the black water. She floated in the mire, her long black hair tangled in the gnarled roots of a bald cypress. Her wide eyes stared blankly into the unknown. Her white cotton dress hung on her shoulders, ripped wide from the neckline to the knees. A pearl handled dagger was buried deep in her breast. The agony over came me and I fell to my knees in the river clutching her cold, stiff body. My precious Rose, my baby sister, my friend and confidant lie cold and gray in the chilling river. Anger welled in me beyond my physical capacity to contain it for I knew well the owner of the lethal knife. So often I had pleaded with her not to consort with this miscreant. The gaudily tooled dagger was the property of Earl Knox, the poorly chosen beau of my dear sister.

"The man is dangerous," I tried to explain not a fortnight ago. "He possesses an illness of mind and partakes of the fermented grape with great frequency."

"He loves me truly. He told me as much," She pleaded.

"I suppose those are the marks of love settled on your wrists like violet shackles. And why is it you wear your veil though it is not the Sabbath? Do you think me blind, sweet sister? I fear for your safety!"

"It is merely his lust that drives him. Once we wed he will settle into a temperate life. He has great wealth. He promises a balcony overlooking the ocean and servants to prepare my meals."

"Oh my poor dazzled sister, he has no money. The wealth of which he speaks is that of his father. Once he leaves the fold his fortune will dry up like spit on a summer street. What will be your fate then?"

"You are a vicious brother! I do not believe you! You would prefer that I shrivel and perish on this dusty prairie like my namesake, like our dear mother."

"There are many strong, honorable men in this town. You are a beautiful young flower. Is there no real man here for you?"

"They are dusty and course like this town!"

"So you prefer this effeminate, lace encrusted fool who wishes to own you? I must warn you, the wine he thirsts for is evil!"

"And you, dear brother, I know you imbibe in the pleasures of rye whiskey."

"That is so, but the clear liquor does not alter the sensibilities."

"So you say, but wine is the blood of Christ."

"When sanctified by the Church! Many things of God, when used in a sacrilegious manner, are but tools of the Devil. I have seen men drunk on the nectar of the grape lust for the loins of other men. That, my sweet sister, is against God and man. Your prissy beau, with his lace trimmed blouse and snug breeches, frankly, I do not understand your fascination."

"No, my brother, I suppose not, for you are as course as this outpost of civilization we inhabit."

"Please, sweet Rose, let us not quarrel. You are all I know of love and beauty and I will be beside you forever. I only ask that you not rush blindly toward this Earl Knox. I am afraid he may have a perverse plan for you. I do not want to see you disgraced."

The conversation played through my mind as I wrapped her cold, wet body in my waistcoat. My father and I transported her to the waiting buckboard, the lines in his face deepening with each step. I had but one goal at that time and it was vengeance.

The scoundrel awaited us at his father's estate. He was contrite as the sheriff bound him for transport. He sneered and taunted us with the statement of his father. "Worry not, my fair-haired son, for the power of wealth shall set you free."

I waited as he fretted in his iron cage. I visited him regularly. "You were the chosen of my dear sister," I told him. "Fear not, I will stand beside you throughout this ordeal." I fixed my eyes upon him as I watched the color drain from his features.

The forthcoming arrival of the circuit judge was postponed as fall degenerated into a grizzly winter. I had ample occasion to visit young Earl Knox. Through my friendship with the sheriff, bail was denied. Though the Knox family wealth was great, our township was one of few administered by men of integrity. Useless attempts were made to bribe the sheriff and the magistrate. The Knox family hired mercenaries to orchestrate a jail break. Three men fell to the weapons of the constabulary. Two of them perished and the unfortunate survivor is but a shell of a man. Earl Knox remained a prisoner.

On the eve of the winter Solstice I received a communiqué from a gentleman in St. Louis. It had come to his attention, through means not revealed to me, that I was in possession of a revolver formerly owned by a famous gunfighter. He was prepared to pay me six thousand dollars for the weapon. Though tempted by his offer, I could not leave my objective unfinished. I responded that I would consider his offer but travel through the territory at this time would be ill advised.

Through the course of the winter I called on Earl Knox regularly, pleasing his palette with rare steak, fine mutton and wines of his choosing. It was my intention to gain a rapport with him for I had an enigma gnawing at my soul. I wanted, no, required an explanation. Why? I was aware that his testimony in court would be slanted. Before I took his life it was imperative that I discern his motivation.

The day came, as I knew it would, when he called me into his confidence. "Come to speak with me after the sheriff retires. We have many things to discuss." Time attained the consistency of blackstrap molasses as I anticipated the setting of the sun. From the inn, I acquired a medium rare rib eye steak complete with a bowl of fresh snow peas. I resisted the temptation to spit on the dinner plate. Offering the meal to Earl Knox, I requested of him the reason for my visit. He gushed over my offering and asked me to sit with him as he masticated the rib eye. Upon completion of the meal he turned to me. "You are aware, of course, that my father has great wealth. He is a powerful man and yet he has approached the magistrate, the sheriff and the circuit judge. He has had no success in gaining my freedom. You have been unusually and unnecessarily kind to me. I have a discreet proposal for you."

"You know why I have lingered by your side. I want the true reason for you ending the life of my precious sister. I claim no friendship or affection for you. My goal is only that knowledge. Any consideration that you receive from me will, of necessity, require that knowledge."

Earl Knox considered my request briefly. "I have had a long time to ponder that while I endured my incarceration here. Though my mind was confused at the time, I feel I can explain the justification as I saw it. First, however, I would like to propose monetary compensation in return for you arranging my escape. You are my final contingency. If you would consider assisting with my freedom, what would be my cost?"

"I would think the amount would be obvious. The method of payment would need to be arranged."

"You say the amount should be obvious and yet nothing you have said answers the query. What would be your compensation?"

"Thirty pieces of silver, thirty silver dollars would ensure my cooperation. I will need your confession as to your motivation for the bloody murder of my sister as well. Consider these demands and I will arrange for a method of payment." As I parted his company he reclined on his bunk, fingers entwined behind his head, and bid me adieu.

The evening brought no rest as I pondered the greed and dishonor eating my soul away. Was I, as my dear sister stated, a course and ruthless man? Could I experience a reformation? Did it matter? As the sun lightened the eastern horizon these questions remained unanswered and sleep had not come. I allowed a week to pass before revisiting Earl Knox. It was a week of torment and introspection but a solution was forming in my mind.

I arrived at the jail just before sunset as plans such as mine should never see the light of day. I fought back the disgust upon confronting Earl Knox. I presented him with a silk kerchief belonging to my sister Rose. It had been doused with her chosen perfume. I cringed as the lout held it to his face. Tears welled in his eyes.

"Wrap the thirty pieces of silver in the kerchief and have your agent leave it under the willow tree where you assassinated my sister. Now I will hear your confession, then I will explain my plan for your earthly salvation. I cannot, nor would I, do anything about the fires of Hell that await you in the afterlife."

Earl Knox sat on his bunk and pondered a moment as if he were sitting around a campfire preparing to spin a yarn. " Byron, it was never my intention to kill Rose. She was a lovely maiden and I planned to make her my wife. Sitting in the willow garden by the river, her beauty and precociousness overcame me and lust boiled in my loins. I asked her if she would share a bottle of burgundy wine with me, hoping it would loosen the laces of her corset. She refused me as she had many times before. She said that our union should be sanctified by God. She then teased me with stories of how she was rubbing cream on her skin and studying the art of lovemaking by talking to older women with successful marriages. My passions were inflamed. I had to get her to drink of the grape so that she would not resist me. I drew her to me and we began kissing. As she began to push away, I clutched her throat and squeezed until she fainted. As she slept, I tried to pour the wine down her throat. She awoke with a start accusing me of trying to poison her. She began screaming like a banshee that her brother was right, I was a pervert. She insisted that I take her home. When I refused she became a shrew such as I have never known, lunging at me with teeth bared and nails at the ready. I feared for my safety. I had no choice but to defend myself with the dagger hanging from my belt. Do you see? It was my life or hers."

"You took her life for your foibles?" I asked. "And I suppose you violated her as she lay dying?"

"She was quite deceased when I enjoyed her pleasures," he bragged.

The room was spinning. I forced my hands to grip the iron bars to keep them from ripping him apart. I stepped out of the cell onto the street to regain my composure. It was difficult to breathe. I stood as a wooden Indian would on the porch of the jailhouse for what seemed like an eternity. It was hard to remember my promise to myself but new ideas were forming in my mind. After I finally relaxed I reentered the jail.

"I have no reason to spare you from the gallows save my honor," I stated. "However, a promise is a promise. You will need to follow my instructions to the letter and you will survive your hanging. When I measure you for the rope I will give you enough to allow your feet to touch the ground. It is imperative that you stand erect as the trap is opened. As you know we enclose the area below the gallows in canvas so as not to shock the women and children attending the event. I will have a buckboard with a coffin on it placed underneath. The coffin will be loaded with rocks approximating your weight. After I pull the trap, I will go below and cut you free placing you among the rocks. I will put two small nails in the coffin lid. I have agreed to transport the body to the undertaker as he has family coming into town to participate in the festivities and he wishes to take them out for a meal afterwards. Once I give you the signal you can force your way out of the coffin and go free. Remember to securely nail down the lid. You will need to leave the territory and assume a new identity. If fortune smiles on us no one will know. Otherwise, you should at least have several hours head start. This all depends on my stipend being delivered as per my demand."

"Have no doubt you will be rewarded," Earl Knox assured me.

"Remember, I can make the gallows quick and efficient or I can assure a slow and painful death." I fixed him in my gaze and spun on my boot heel, exiting without further conversation. I made no further contact with Earl Knox prior to his scheduled day of execution.

As the day of execution approached, I watched my father sink deeper and deeper into the void. He no longer spoke nor attended to his hardware and mercantile operation. I did what I could to keep his business open as it helped to alleviate the dread and shame my future held. The sunset of my father's life was at hand. I had watched him fade since the untimely death of his wife. With his daughter buried it was as if his soul had vacated his body, leaving only a shell. For him, for God, it was my duty to deliver Earl Knox to the fires of Hell.

On the day of reckoning I arose before the sun, holstered the gunfighter's prized weapon, packed a saddlebag and headed for the river where my sister had met her fate. As I approached the blood stained boulder I saw the lily white kerchief bundled on the rock. I untied it and counted out the thirty pieces of silver. After sitting on the boulder contemplating the trading of justice for personal gain, I took the coins to the river and skipped them one by one across the calm water as would an innocent child with smooth, flat stones. I tucked the kerchief into my breast pocket and mounted my horse, turning back toward town.

Upon reaching the jail I encountered the padre in contact with the accused. I asked for a moment with Earl Knox. The priest seemed relieved to relinquish the attentions of the prisoner. The father met my eyes with a look of thanks. Upon the departure of the priest I informed Earl Knox that the agreed payment had not been found.

"That is impossible!" He screamed. "My own father was to have placed it there!"

"How is it to finally realize your monetary worth?" I mocked.

"Bring my father to me. There must be some mistake."

"The time is nigh. We have but minutes."

"Please, I beg of you. I have my own money hidden. I will pay you double if you will spare me!"

"And how do you propose to make this happen?"

"Spare me and I will bring you a generous bag of gold. I will meet you at the rock one hour after the scheduled hanging, on my honor."

"Your honor? I have seen no evidence of honor! I should slice you open and let you watch your entrails spill before you! I will, however, give you this last opportunity. If you fail I will spend my life tracking you down. Your death will be slow and painful and all time before it will be filled with fear and apprehension. As God is my witness, I will prevail!"

"Yes, certainly, thank you my friend."

"You will survive your hanging. I am not your friend." I tied his hands behind his waist. "Would you care for a blindfold?" I asked.

"I see no need for one."

I led him to the gallows. The boisterous crowd grew quiet as we climbed the gallows stair. I placed the noose around his neck. He stood solemn without speaking. The padre spoke a brief prayer over him and descended from the platform. As I pulled the lever the silent crowd gasped in unison followed by a raucous cheer. I left the platform taking the receding steps slowly. Under the gallows I found Earl Knox suspended from the noose, his toes touching the ground, the rope snug around his throat. His face was inflamed as he gasped for air. I pulled his pearl handled dagger from my belt and flashed it before his eyes. I grabbed the strap cinching his hands and pulled down, tightening the noose. I stood behind him pressing my body firmly against his. I wrapped my free arm around his shoulder holding the shiny knife against his throat just below the noose.

"My blood and my being are screaming for vengeance. Even my loins want you to feel the degradation experienced by my sister. My love! Not yours!" I hissed, acknowledging the swelling pressing against his buttocks. "It is only my honor that frees you." I took the dagger from his throat and sliced through the rope above the knot. I picked him up and threw him forcefully into the rock filled coffin. I finally cut the strap from his wrist. As tears streamed from his eyes, I tacked the coffin lid closed. Taking my seat on the buckboard I drove to the undertaker's barn and pulled into the shadows where my mount waited. I pounded on the coffin, mounted my steed and rode toward the river.

I am sitting on the rock speaking face to face with the ghosts residing in the barrel of the gunfighter's revolver. They are explaining to me about blood and honor. I have sold my honor for knowledge. I am told by these ghosts that my only hope to reconnect with my sister is to mix our blood on this rock where she died. Just as these apparitions are about to assist me with this magical union, I hear a rustling in the brush. I look up to see my nemesis, Earl Knox, holding a leather pouch. I holster the haunted weapon and take the bag.

"You should have pulled the trigger," Earl Knox taunts. "You can never return to your home. You are now as much of an outlaw as I am."

"I should have let you hang. We would both be free."

"I am as free as a bird. Only your honor binds you in shame."

I pull the pistol from my holster. The first shot finds his groin, doubling him over.

"Your promise!" he screams.

"My promise was fulfilled when you survived the noose!" I exclaim. I pull the white kerchief from my shirt to place under my nose, inhaling the last faint hint of my sister, Rose. Upon realization, Earl Knox attempts to lunge at me. The second shot finds his chest, knocking him off his feet and into the river. Although the third shot misses, the fourth removes his flawless face from the front of his head. As Earl Knox joins the silver coins, I use the pearl handled dagger to carve another notch into the revolver. The ghosts are silenced. I holster the weapon, mount my horse and begin the journey to St. Louis.

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