Free In Calamity's Wake by Natalee Caple

burials.
    Tears mapped her cheeks.
    No, I said.
    Yes! she shrieked. You have robbed me! You have robbed me!
    I did not. I looked. The well is deep. I do not even know if it is dry, but there are no shelves, no places money could be hid. You said you were young; if the bodies were ever there I don’t think I could find them now.
    I raised my hands in a gesture of peace and between my fingers I saw the little black O of a gun muzzle shaking at the end of her arm. Her whole being was aiming itself at me through the mouth of that gun. I thought of the little gun tucked in my belt but I could not bring myself to draw on her.
    I swear I have not robbed you. I looked hard. There’s nothing in the well, I said. It’s not the right well!
    I heard a clap and I looked at the ground and watched the grass and stones get sucked back into the earth as I reached up to hold my ear.
    You shot me, I said as I fell.

Martha
    T HESE ARE THE KILLED (BY B ILL ): D AVIS T UTT , a good friend; Bill Mulvey, tried to sneak up on Bill; Samuel Strawhun, a foolish cowboy causing a disturbance in a saloon; John Lyle, a disorderly soldier of the 7th U.S. Cavalry Regiment; Phil Coe, a saloon owner with whom he had an ongoing dispute; Special Deputy Marshal Mike Williams, by mistake when the man rushed to Bill’s aid. Also, Indians, a number debated depending on the politics of the day.
    T HESE ARE the killed (by the international shooting sensation, Calamity Jane!): No one.

Miette
    I WOKE FACE DOWN WITH MY MOUTH FULL OF dirt and blood. The pain in my ear was so great it was almost beyond feeling. I lifted my hand to touch my wound and I could not be sure if the raggedness dried into my hair was complete or if I had lost the ear. It was perfectly dark, perfectly silent. I dragged myself to a sitting position.
    My horse, seeing me rise, walked over to me and touched my head with her muzzle. I rubbed her face and held her to help myself rise. I was weak and bleary-eyed.
    Together we stumbled towards the fort thinking to sleep in shelter until sunrise. Near the entrance was a burnt-out firepit with wood piled beside it. I set a fire and peeled off my bloody clothes. I used water from my canteen to try and clean the wound but the pain was such sharpness I could not force my hand to finish. Idid not want to stand long, naked in the firelight, so I pulled the black dress from my pack and drew it on.
    As I dressed I felt so bitter, I conjured and twisted that beloved voice.
    Make her pay, daughter, for all of the years that she put you out of her mind.
    Why don’t you turn around? another voice said behind me.
    I spun and saw the Hag standing there. Did you follow me? I asked.
    She nodded. She was dressed in trousers and a man’s shirt and a hat, all the fabric dusty and falling apart. The clothes must have belonged to another of her long-ago guests.
    What do you want from me?
    She smiled and stepped forward.
    Go away, I said. You turn back and don’t follow me. I don’t care that you knew him.
    I loved him, she said.
    No. I loved him. I loved him so much and that’s why I came here, because he asked me to go to her.
    I know that, she said.
    For a moment I thought I could see through her.
    Go away, I said.
    But a lot has happened. He didn’t know what he was asking of you.
    I shook my head and began to pull her dress off my body. It caught on my ear as I yanked it over my head and I screamed. I heard it rip. I threw it at her and she caught it. We stood looking at each other until I covered my eyes with my fists, leaning the heels of my hands on the cliffs of my eye sockets. After a few seconds of brilliant stars I lowered my hands and turned to my horse and swung my body up into the saddle and we rode away from her as fast as we could.
    After twenty minutes, forty minutes, whenever it was that it started hurting to run, we stopped. I looked behind me to make sure she wasn’t there. The crickets were silent. The dark was