100 COFFINS

“You can’t drink liquor in here,” a woman shouted out.

Cadman, flushed with anger, pulled a pistol from his side. “I’m taking a drink,” he said to whoever wanted to listen, and there were a few. “Any man or woman tries to stop me and I’ll shoot them dead.” He smiled caustically. Removing a full bottle of Kentucky bourbon from the shelf, he looked around the room, watching, wondering if anybody would call his bluff. They lost interest quickly, though. There was no fight in them beyond the battle in their own minds. They let Cadman break the rules without any further objections. Not even Joseph, who Cadman eyed in the far corner, protested.

Cadman downed a mouthful, then offered the bottle across the bar to Alexander. The old man looked tempted, but torn. “I can’t,” he said mournfully.

I don’t remember Trinity being hit so hard by the temperance drive, Cadman thought to himself. It doesn’t seem natural. A man used to fight not to buy vice around here. Cadman watched the weary crowd, then downed another quick drink.

#

Joseph Henriksen had his own way of dealing with unruly strangers: he told the higher-ups in hope that the responsibility would pass him by. He was a man of God, after all. And violence, he felt, was no one’s friend.

Joseph watched Roth Cadman from across the room -- watched him drink whisky insolently. The man is boastful and arrogant, he thought to himself, and fumed inside. But he’s dangerous, too. Joseph got a sense of the latter from the look in Cadman’s eyes. They had an animalistic nature, wary and unmoving. The look was enough to unsettle Joseph and push him away from a confrontation. He brooded in silence.





About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)