Marcus Wildhaber Final Portfolio Creative Writing December 18, 2012

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“I believe I have.”

“Yeah that’s her boy. She got pregnant probably from that fat man who drinks whisky all day at the bar. She has sex with all them men down there. She don’t even have the right mind to claim that poor boy, everyone knows it’s hers, that dirty slut.”

Mr. Warren with an angered said “Alight now that’s enough talking from you now you here?”

Mr. Adams unsure of what to say said “So if I may ask what was the ordeal about after church yesterday?”

Mr. Warren’s wife chimed in “Oh Lord.”

To which Mr. Warren responded “shut your mouth women! Me and the rest of the town are tired of being oppressed by the tyrant Mr. Turner is. He owns this town and everyone in it. We are trapped here and trapped unda Mr. Turner. We are forced to work under Mr. Turner, we have no other choice, he employs us all and we have no other job to choose from except from him. And you saw he stole the donations from the church yesterday. He has more money than all of in the town combined and he insists that he needs more of our money for the sake of the town. That is why come election day this Thursday we is going to vote him not be the sheriff no more so we can get some law and order in this here town.”

“Not to be rude Mr. Warren but you should be thankful to have some like Mr. Turner to employ you and be thankful that your town is one of democratic nature. There is no need to slam Mr. Turner for your economic stature; if you really wanted too you could be in the same position as Mr. Turner but due to your lack of a work ethic and ignorance you are in the place you are in. You cannot call it unfair that Mr. Turner holds the position he holds whether you truly have the idiotic believe that it is unfair or you are blinded by jealously. The fact is, Mr. Warren, that there is no inequality between you and Mr. Turner there is only inequality in your foolish mind.”

“Mr. Adams I find your comments to be very offending and distasteful I may not be schooled and privileged like you and Mr. Turner but I know oppression and inequality when I see it!”

“You are as blind as you are ignorant Mr. Warren.”

“Get out of my house you worthless excuse of a man!”

“There are no castles burring here Mr. Warren, so don’t let it bring you down. You have a pleasant night, Sir.”


The clock in the bar struck 12 noon as Mr. Adams walked in gave the room a discussed glance and took a seat at the bar. The bar was filled with the usual: Mr. Gohl stood behind the bar cleaning shot glasses from the night before and from earlier this morning, Crud and his group of drinking buddies sat drunk eating their lunch, Johnny boy sat in the corner chewing on a small piece of cornbread and Mr. Warren was nowhere to be found.

“What can I get you sir?”

“A cup of your finest coffee and whatever is for lunch today.”

Crud upon noticing Mr. Adams presence in the bar yelled “Well God damn look who it is Mista Business Man!” Everyone at his table burst into laughter. “I almost didn’t see you come in ‘ere, must be ‘cause I ain’t have my afternoon whiskey yet. Wheres you think you been alls day Mista Business Man? See here Mist, Mista Turner thinks he owns dis here town but I do, I do and my friends here. We is the workers of dis town we do all the work and Mista Turner don’t do a God damn thing. Justa sits at his estate and counts his money ‘dat he takes from us here. Me and my boys here figure if we are the workers of this here town then we owns it right? Not Mista Turner.

Mr. Adams sat with his back towards Crud not acknowledging a word he said. “Hey boy you goin’ talk me or am I gunna have to come over there and beat it into you?

Mr. Adams slowly turned in his bar stool to face Crud. “Now now Sir, that will not be necessary. But I will tell you that I find it quite humorous that you and your fellow workers think that you own this town because you are simply the workers. I have been in Black Hill for three days now and I have not seen a single person lift a finger, unless it is your job to sit in the bar and drink yourself to near death every day. You people to open your eyes and realize Mr. Turner is the sheriff of this town. From what I understand Black Hill is fairly democratic, you vote for your sheriff. If you should be upset with anyone it is yourselves for voting him in.”

“Das why tomorrow everyone ina town ‘s gonna vote him ou- not the sheriff no more. Gohl bring me and my boys some whiskey to celebrate Mista Turner ain’t no sheriff no more.”

Mr. Gohl walked out of the back of the bar with Mr. Adams’ lunch and brought Crud and his friends the entire bottle of whiskey expecting them to finish it. Mr. Adams turned away and began to eat ignoring Crud’s rambles.

Crud turned to Johnny and yelled “Hey boy where your mama at? He just lifted his head and glared. “Yeah haha boy you don’t know who your mama is do ya? Haha I’ll tell ya boy… what’s ‘er name boys ughh yeah haha oh well it’s Warren’s wife. Best fuck I’d have in a long while but at don’t make me your daddy boy could be anyone of us now haha. You run along now boy.” Johnny eyes full of tears run out of the bar. “Poor bastard” Crud and his drinking buddies burst into uncontrollable laughter.


The next morning Mr. Adams stood on the front porch of the in drinking a cup of coffee watching the empty town which was deader than usual. Mr. Connaughton walked out the inn next to Mr. Adams. “Mr. Adams I have a letter for you this morning”

He handed the letter to Mr. Adams who tucked it in his pocket and responded “Thank you sir. Today is my last day in Black Hill Mr. Connaughton.”

“Is this so? Well Mr. Adams I hope you enjoyed yourself and we all hope to see you again.”

“Yes a trip back west would be splendid. But for now Mr. Connaughton.” Mr. Adams shook Mr. Connaughton’s hand and Mr. Connaughton walked back into the inn. Mr. Adams walked down to the bar and sat down once again at the bar. The bar was empty except for Mr. Gohl and Father Mills who was passed out in the corner with a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

“Do you happen to know the outcome of the election?”

“Well no one went out to vote so by default Mr. Turner remains sheriff.”

“You did not vote Mr. Gohl?”

“No I was here at the bar all morning I couldn’t seem to find the time. I was hoping everyone else woulda went and voted for Mr. Warren for sheriff. But I can’t be dissatisfied with the outcome because I’m just glad to live in a democratic society. Mr. Adams please excuse me I need to finish cleaning up after last night.”

Mr. Adams sat alone pulled the letter out of his pocket read it and after reading it sat in silence staring at the letter. Mr. Gohl walked back into the room. “Mr. Adams is everything alright now?

“I got a letter this morning; it said my love is dead.” Mr. Adams, letter in hand walked out of the bar and started walking down the town’s dirt street. Walking towards him was the old man clapping out of time signing “Don’t you mind people grinnin’ in your face? Don’t mind people grinnin’ in your face, O’ Lord. Just bear this in mind, a true friend is hard to find.”

But my current emotional state is none of your worries. My time in Black Hill was one of most distaste; I now can understand your eagerness to sell it to me. Which I am glad we came to an agreement where you and I are both satisfied. I have hired a group of men that are willing to move with me to Black Hill and begin mining. I am sure by this time next year when I have made the final moving arrangements and you have done moved east, the people of Black Hill will have surely died off. Thus allowing me to establish a new mining town where you and I both will heavily invest in. Mr. Turner I wish you the best of luck.

Your friend,

Benjamin A. Adams

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