BOYS

TRIO CHALLENGE: El Camino Real, pocket watch, scissors

~~~~~

Helm sat in the patio of the cantina sipping his sangria when he saw Grisham stalk past from the jail to his personal quarters. Helm timed it so that Grisham would be as close as possible to the rail that the doctor leaned upon when he muttered, "Never underestimate a man scorned...," as he took another swallow. Just as he had guessed when he uttered such a line, Grisham stopped in his tracks, took a slow turn to the right and glared at the doctor.

"Did you say something, doc?"

"Yes I did. I was wondering if I'd have to make another house call to the jail. I have this," he lifted his glass, "to finish first. You have been keeping me busy. All those men who had done nothing except exist, except for their crimes of course. Do the words cruel and unusual mean anything to you? When will you finally get over the rejection?"

Grisham tensed, even more than usual, and slowly looked around. A Don and his wife were eating lunch at a nearby table and Helm was sure they had heard. The extra set of ears were the only reason that Helm had left out the name of the woman who had done the impossible. Dona Hidalgo had turned Grisham into an even bigger ass. Helm had known of their affair and had watched them the last time Grisham and Vera had been in public together, at one of Montoya's fiestas, right after the Captain started using human punching bags for exercise. Vera had tried to keep her attention on her husband, soon to be proud father, and be joyous with the other Senoras and Senoritas at the party while Grisham would corner her to persuade Vera to speak with him in private, which she would not do.

Helm swallowed the rest of the contents of his glass and put it and the bottle on another table and waited for Grisham to react. Do something. Anything. He was ready. Helm waited. Grisham just glared at him, his nostrils flaring, his fists tightening and closing.

Helm took out his pocket watch and said, "Ah, look at the time." Helm stood, looking up at the clear blue sky. "It's a nice day, Grisham. Why don't you enjoy it?"

"Why don't you mind your own business, doc," Grisham said as he turned and walked away. "When I hurt you, there won't be anyone to tend your wounds."

Helm laughed. He smiled good day to the Don and Dona and walked off the porch, in the direction of Grisham's apartment. When Helm had started to be called to the sudden rash of men falling down hurting themselves at the jail, he wasn't too upset about it. The men, who were in fact beaten up, were actual criminals or traitorous soldiers. The extent of their injuries were black and blue marks, sometimes a loose tooth, cut lip, or a slash large enough to need stitches. What worried Helm was that Montoya had departed that morning down the El Camino Real and had left Grisham in charge of the pueblo for a week. Grisham in a bad mood was one thing. Grisham in charge was another. Put them together and Helm knew he'd continue to be one busy doctor.

"Hey!" Helm yelled, then caught up with Grisham before he could enter his room, and grabbed him on the shoulder.

Grisham's reaction wasn't verbal, as you would expect. Grisham's fist slammed hard against Helm's left cheek, flattening him to the ground. Having anticipating something like that, he immediately kicked up. The tip of Helm's boot connected into the nether regions of the Captain, who slumped forward trying to catch his breath. Then he fell over on Helm in a fetal position. Helm pushed him off and stood. He leaned down to speak, rubbing his cheek and working out his jaw. "Good shot, Grisham. I commend you. You're a good fighter."

Grisham nodded, looking up at Helm out the corner of his eye, that was surrounded by blazing red skin. "Yeah," he managed to utter.

Helm smiled. "If you're in a lot of pain, I could go get my bag... I have a scissor in there."

"No," Grisham immediately grunted. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Oh yes," Grisham painfully said, smashing his face into the dirt.

Helm put his hands on his hips and looked around, almost disappointed that no one had witnessed it. He told Grisham, "What would probably be more productive for you, my friend," the word friend coming out as ironic as Helm had meant it, "Is to write a note to the Dona apologizing for your behavior and telling her that you wish her well and that you will not be bothering her anymore. Then look around you, Grisham. This pueblo is filled with beautiful women, who... might...." Helm shrugged. "Find you attractive. If you treat of one of these Senoritas correctly, you could actually have a chance at happiness. What do you think?"

"I think you should get as far away from me as humanly possible, doc."

As Grisham got back to his knees, hunched over, getting his strength back, Helm agreed.

END

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