"That smell, fresh tanned leather and sweat. You girls have perfumed my establishment with the scent of a whorehouse. Thank God!"
In the Desert it rarely rains, but when it does, you can see it coming for hours. Keeng glared at the darkening sky off in the distance. He slowly withdrew his watch from its nook in his waistcoat, glanced at it and noted that it was far too early to be this dark. The sweat on his forehead was lingering, a strange feeling in the dusty climate that told him it was certain to rain.
"About three hours I would estimate" Keeng said without taking his gaze off the horizon.
"This will be bad for business hun" Regina said peering over Keeng's shoulder.
Their gaze shifted to the main street. Men were running about desperately. They quickly ran around carrying armloads of equipment and supplies. Off in the distance several men were filling bags with New Mexico sand and loading them on a wagon. The springs on the wagon groaned with the increasing weight of the filled bags.
"They are preparing for a big one deary" Keeng said watching the spectacle.
"They will be too busy for pussy then, guess the girls and I will wash our hair tonight." Regina said glumly.
Keeng knew she was right. The men in town would be busy trying to stave off the floods that are certain to come. They will be bracing beams in mines and sandbagging entrances. There will be no drinking tonight, no celebrating. The men will find company in each other's presence and while it will be a long wet night for them, the dryness of the desert will be preserved in the Promenade.
Keeng turned around slowly and looked at the empty bar. He will keep the doors open until the rains come but he was not expecting any clientele. He slowly walked to the bar, withdrew a bottle of fine Kentucky rye, and a glass. He held the glass up toward a nearby window, and marveled at how clean the glass was. He was very proud of how clean he managed to keep the glasses he had been in far too many places with filthy glasses and he would have none of that in his place.
"Even the cheapest whiskey tastes better with a clean glass." he mumbled to himself.
"Since when is that cheap whiskey?" McRae asked with a chuckle in his voice nodding at the bottle Keeng held by its neck.
"I thought you were to be in LaGrange." Keeng said reaching for a second glass.
"I am." Replied the Hardcase. "I just stopped in for a quick drink and to look in after y'all. I think this will be a bad one. I'm glad I am riding away from it to be honest." McRae finished somberly.
The two sipped the fiery-sweet liquid, gazing out the window watching the darkness slowly advance on the small town. McRae finished his drink, dutifully placed the glass up-side-down on the bar top and touched the tip of his hat.
"Thank you for the drink. I'm off to chase my bounty. I'll see y'all in a few days if I aint dead." The Hardcase said as he slowly walked out into the ever growing darkness.
The sky had now evicted all of its remaining light. The first drops began to fall. Large, heavy drops weighted with the water that had grown over the winter months. The first wave of droplets beckoned the rest and with a fury of ancient times, the sky opened and let spill the deluge.
Regina sat at the vanity, slowly running the brush through her hair. She hated how the humidity made her curls interlock. Surrounding each tangle her hair formed a misty fog inciting her rage and invoking her accomplished use of invectives.
She was instantly blinded in mid-brushstroke. The long strand of electricity seared across the sky like a forked snake striking at its prey. The light so incredibly bright against the contrasting blackened sky that Regina doubted an eye in the small New Mexico town could focus at that instant. She sat, waiting, with her ear cocked toward the sky.
"two thousand, three thousand..." She counted under her breath.
For an instant she felt the distance between her butt and the chair, she felt every hair on her body stand up as the thunder clap shook the picture frames loosely hung on the wall. She remembered the sound of the cannons in Atlanta during Sherman's siege. She did not want to think about that any longer and dutifully continued cursing her brush through her hair.
She was more prepared for the next clap of thunder than she was for the gentle knock on her door. "Not a customer" she thought. They rarely knocked softly and she didn't hear a drunken body slump against the door before the knock. This knock was the voice of a softer hand.
"Who dare?" Regina Answered the knock with a sharp tone.
"Ccccarol, Regina" Said a soft voice at the other end of the door.
"I aint know any Carol Regina's" Said Regina biting her lip to stifle the smile.
"No nnno its just Cccarol...Ccccarol Ppparch."
