Governor Lew Wallace, a tightly-wound man with a sharp white beard, sits at a table in a Taos hotel room before an untouched breakfast of steak and eggs, while three armed marshals wait by the door.
He glances at his pocket watch, rises from the table, leaves the room and makes a beeline towards the lobby, where Pat Garrett and his two Marshals are waiting.
Lew ignores Pat and the marshals and blows through the door and across the street to the undertaker’s establishment with his own marshals in tow.
Pat catches up and takes the lead down a dark hallway, sliding a heavy metal door open for Lew to enter the undertaker’s workshop.
He closes the door behind Lew and stands facing the five marshals, exhaling through his thick moustache with a sawed-off double-barrel shotgun across his chest.
Inside the workshop, Lew looks to the metal corpse slab and is stunned to see Billy sitting at a table, “Welcome to Taos, Governor Wallace.”
“Fuck you.” Lew spits on the floor and makes a move to exit.
Billy sharply whispers, “Sit.”
Lew walks to the table and sits.
When Lew is settled, Billy sits and stares at Lew, “I must have sent you twenty letters providing a strong case to pardon me. You ain’t wrote back to me once.”
Lew stares.
“Aside from the information and facts, it hurt my feelings. I’m worth more than nothing.”
Billy takes a strawberry candy from his pocket, unwraps it and pops it into his mouth, “I’m willing to put all that behind us and move forward.”
Lew glares, “Are you, now.”
Billy settles into his chair, “Absolutely.”
Lew feels a single ball of sweat slowly travel from the nape of his neck, clear down his back.
Billy leans in, “I got an opportunity for you, Governor.”
“You ain’t got shit, you little prick.”
Billy leans back, “I’ll tell you what I got, I got a mind that’s over-active. If I don’t keep my mind busy, I run into trouble. You want more trouble?”
Lew’s lip curls, “No, thank you.”
“I did what I did and I’m done.”
Billy sits up straight, “My name is Henry McCarty. And, I got a way gonna keep my mind busy for the rest of my long life. Wanna hear it?”
Lew places his hat on the table, “Do I have a choice.”
Henry centers his boots flat on the floor, “Roads.”
Lew cocks his head, “Roads?”
“I’m gonna build a network of cargo hauling roads that will be mine to own, organize, operate and earn from for as many generations as my bloodline flows.”
Lew stares, “Come again?”
“You can keep the railroad, you and your pals. I don’t want no part of the rail. It’s an old man’s game. Obsolete.”
Lew tilts his head, “Railroad’s obsolete?”
Henry nods, “It is now.”
“Why?”
“Rails are linear. Roads go wherever they want.”
Lew’s eyes dart from side to side.
“You’re gonna help me build roads, Lew. Here’s how.”
Henry rolls up his sleeves, “I been traveling the old trails over this territory and further since I was a kid. I learned them trails out of necessity, I been surviving on them all my life. Got them mapped, too. Drew them on paper.”
He draws an invisible map with his finger on the table and illustrates, “Your tracks can only reach towns along the rail line. That’s fine for big towns like Santa Fe, but take a town far from the tracks, like Taos. Taos is fucked and outta luck. That’s how come I asked you to meet me here.”
Lew stares at Henry in disbelief, “How are you alive?”
“That ain’t the fuckin point. Listen.”
Henry runs his hand through his curls, “How long did it take you to ride to Taos from Santa Fe?”
“Three days. Well, four.”
“It took you four days. That’s right. Know why it took you four days? Because there are no railroad tracks running to Taos.”
Henry watches as a fly lands on Lew’s bald head and seems to be looking straight at him.
“There are no proper roads, neither. You had to fight your way over wild country and rough trails, through hard passes and over mountains, like a fuckin donkey. But, you’re not a fuckin donkey. Are you, Lew. You deserve proper roads. I’m gonna build them for you.”
Lew unbuttons his starched collar.
Henry flashes a smile, “My roads will have you traveling smooth and on time through all that wild in all the right places.”
Lew opens his mouth to speak, but Henry continues, “My roads will reach the people where they live and provide them with the goods they need. That’s commerce.”
He winks, “That’s good business. Right?”
Lew endures as a stream of sweat now streams down his back, “Are you talking about laying a local road from Santa Fe to Taos?”
Henry grins, “My roads are gonna lead back to my hometown.”
“Where’s that?”
“New York fuckin City.”
Lew maintains, “I have got six armed Marshals outside that door.”
Henry smiles, “I have a knife in my boot and a pistol in my waistband. I’m much quicker with the knife.”
He folds his hands on his lap.
“I need your influence. You and your pals in politics. I need to build legitimate and stay legitimate. It’s got to be legal. Signed paperwork, documented, from territory to territory.”
Lew wipes sweat from his head, “What’s mine in return?”
“I’ll make you a rich man.”
“I’m already a rich man.”
“Not this rich, you ain’t.”
He offers Lew a strawberry candy.
After a moment, Lew takes the candy, unwraps it and pops it into his mouth.
“Dreams too large for most folks to comprehend have shaped the world. Dreams and visions turn the tides beyond what most folks can imagine. This vision’s mine and it’s my birthright to see it through. And, I will see it through, Lew.”
Lew sucks his candy.
Henry takes his time rolling his wax candy wrapper into a perfect ball, “Wherever I ride, Lew, I meet folks who work the road. We share the same trails in all kinds of weather over vicious terrain. Outlaws and ramblers, we take care of ourselves, but the haulers are working. They’ve got to make time. They need rules. Organization. Protections. Structure. Fair pay. I care about them and how they survive. They’re the lifeblood of the system.”
Lew speaks forcefully in a low whisper, “Who do you think you are and where do you come off with any of this?”
“I’m smart as a whip, plus, I got vision.”
Lew sits back, “I expected you on a slab, you little bastard.”
“You see the sense in this, I know you do. I know you see how it fills a need, and how it’ll help folks, no matter where they are. It’ll encourage growth of all kinds.”
“I know you can’t see what I see, and that’s fine. Some day, though, you will.”
Henry gently takes a tintype photograph from his shirt pocket and carefully hands it to Lew, “My wife, Paulita.”
Lew takes his time with Paulita’s photograph, then hands it back to Henry, who carefully slides it back into his shirt pocket, “I’m looking to my kin not yet born. Gonna put food on their table. Put them to work. Give them purpose.”
Some flavor of respect comes over Lew, as he studies Henry, “Where were you educated?”
“My Mama taught me to read and write, taught me math. A pal from England taught me all else. Gave me books. Homer. History books. Taught me science. Law. That’s how come I was able to make all that sense in all them letters I sent that you never replied to. His name was Henry Tunstall. You know the name?”
Lew decides to change the subject and talk business, “How do you earn?”
“Anybody who sets wheel to road for commerce pays a toll. Beyond that information, my business is my own.”
“With all due respect, Governor, I ain’t asking permission. I’ll build my roads regardless of you. I’m offering you opportunity.”
Henry leans in, “I need your skills and resources in policy and politics. I need funding and the right doors opened at the right times. That’s all. Politics.”
Lew is silent.
Henry clasps his hands on the table, “What’s your answer?”
Lew picks up his hat and begins to stand, “I’ll take it into consideration.”
Henry’s eyes flash, “You will decide in that chair.”
Lew’s face flushes as he places his hat back on the table and sits.
Henry sucks his candy, “Deal?”
After a moment Lew stands, extending his hand, “Deal.”
Henry remains seated, his hands folded on his lap, “Why?”
“It benefits me.”
Henry clasps Lew’s hand and pulls him forward, “Don’t ever lie or steal from me. Never work against me. Don’t never mention my name or allude to knowing who I am. I’ll be watching you.”
He lets go of Lew’s hand, “You’ll never be able to trust anyone again.”
Lew wipes the sweat now dripping into his eyes, “Why is that?”
“Out of every five men around you, I’ll own at least three.”
Lew cocks his head, “Is that so.”
Henry grins, “Judging from the number of marshals outside that door, it’s rightly fuckin so. In this case, I own all six.”
Lew glances down to the table, “I thought you were a common bandit.”
“I ain’t a thief.”
Henry brushes a curl from his eyes, “I sparked and fought a righteous war for my pal Henry Tunstall, who your men assassinated while he was riding alone and unarmed. You lost that war. To me. Remember that.”
Henry stands.
He adjusts the cuffs of his filthy blue shirt, “Meeting’s over.”
Lew stands awkwardly a moment, before sliding the door open and leaving the room.
Henry turns his face to the morning sun beaming in through the window, warming a deeply satisfied mind.
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