Indian friend

The next morning was cold and it took some time before the sun chased the persistent chill from the streets away. It was only the middle of October, but the winter season was always long and tough in Bozeman City, also thanks to the influence of the Rocky Mountains, whose impressive shape could be seen on the west and south horizon. All leafy trees were already changing into red and orange colors, slowly drying up to the brown and the conifers started to play the main part of green in the whole scenery.

Mr. Harada was sitting in his favorite armchair on the veranda, enjoying his first morning cigarette and letting the sunshine warm up his stiffened muscles, while listening to the first chatting on the main street, to the horses neighing from the stalls behind his saloon and to the sound of clinking dishes from the kitchen.

He stayed awake till long in the night, putting all necessary bills and the list of supplies in order. He was not exactly the accountant type and he would like to transfer this annoying job to some of his employees, but unfortunately, it was not possible. Not for now, at least. None of them had any education in the field; he would have to teach them himself first. And there was absolutely no spare time for that.

Unsatisfied because of problems with no solution, the saloon´s owner inhaled the smoke deeply, when the light steps approached him and the greeting was heard.

"Good morning, Mr. Harada."

"Morning, morning…" the man jut murmured, still lost in his thoughts.

*

Kame knew that expression on the saloon owner´s face quite well. He didn´t want to disturb his traditional morning habit, so he just walked into the taproom and then headed to the kitchen.

"Morning, sweetheart!" a loud welcome hit him right in the door. "You´re early today!"

A sturdy little woman with brown hair, which already had some sparkles of grey in them, was performing her usual dance in the kitchen and even though she was busy with the preparation of some dough, she added a bright smile to her greeting.

"Good morning, Miss McBain."

It was already a few years since she had celebrated her fortieth birthday, and even though she was a widow, she insisted on everyone addressing her as ´Miss´. Melody McBain was employed as a cook and maid in Harada´s saloon. She worked since the early mornings and always finished right after the dinner time. Only the evenings and nights were usually Kame´s job, but he sometimes came to help during a day, too.

"When you´re already here, would you be so nice and do some shopping?" she asked him immediately. That was so her style.

"Of course," Kame nodded. "What should I buy?"

Miss rolled her eyes: "Don´t even ask. Our dear boss prepared the whole list!"

*

There was only one convenient store in the city. Its owner Mr. Franko was very moody man in his fifties, with a big stomach and with even bigger greed. The only competition he had was a small drugstore on the opposite side of the town and its female owner was selling only the things, which were usually wanted by women like soaps, towels, candles and perfumes. Therefore, each citizen visited the Franko Store regularly; everybody knew the old man and his wife.

Kame crossed the main street, turned the corner around the post office and headed further to the one-store large building with the green wind shutters. Already from far away he could hear an angry voice from the shop, which made him knit his eyebrows and fasten his pace. Just when he reached the shop´s entrance, a tall figure with long hair was pushed out roughly.

He reacted out of pure instinct and caught the man by an arm, before he could have fallen down to the dusty ground. His eyes met the dark and desperate look of the red man.

"Liwan..." Kame recognized him right away. "What are you doing here?"

Before the Indian could have responded, another loud reaction filled their ears.

"I have exactly the same question!" a yell came from the mouth of a fat man, who appeared in the doorway.

"What´s going on, Mr. Franko?" Kame asked carefully. "Why are you so angry?"

The merchant pointed his index finger to the Indian´s figure so furiously, that his stomach under the shirt shook in one big wave: "I do NOT sell my goods to the red men!"

"I need it," the Indian said in a calm but urgent voice. "Please, Mister Seller."

"No!"

Kame felt the rise of anger after those words. He stepped aside a little, so he covered Liwan behind him partially.

"What is your problem, Mr. Franko? As far as I know, you didn´t mind doing a business with Indians yesterday at all," Kame was forcing his voice to stay calm, not to upset the man even more. But that was a futile effort.

"That was on the square!" the man spitted off a few saliva drops with his response. "But no Indians at my shop! He scares my customers away!"

"I did nothing bad," Liwan dared to defend himself again. "I have money. I will pay you."

"He is your customer too," Kame tried another approach to support his words.

"He is Indian!" Franko´s face turned red from anger as a giant tomato.

It was ironic that he looked much more as a red man at that moment than Liwan himself. But Kame really didn´t want to worsen the situation, so he kept that thought behind his lips.

"Get out before I pull my gun out!"

That was something what finally made the Indian change his so far composed expression.

"I do not accept threats. I will fight back," he said coldly.

"Liwan," Kame turned to him. "Stay calm."

"What did you say?!" Mr. Franko´s yelling was already attracting the attention of some people on the street, who stopped and stared at them, but nobody intended to interfere in the quarrel. "How do you dare?!"

Kame was already angry enough to punch the man right into his face, not to mention Liwan´s mood, but he froze on the spot, when an acerbic voice was heard behind their backs.

"That´s enough, I´d say..."

The man, who spoke at that moment, was the last person they needed to appear. Kame turned his face to the broad-shouldered yellow-haired man in dark clothes – Math Grenet, the sheriff´s deputy.

"Math! Thank God!" Mr. Franko exhaled as if he had just finished a marathon. "Finally, some order came."

"Take it easy, Franko or you´ll have a heart attack. Again."

There was a disgusting grin on the man´s face. Kame couldn´t help but feel sick, anytime Grenet was around.

"Hey, redskin. How about you stop bothering the decent citizens of our town and go back from wherever you popped out?" Grenet´s words were supported with the shotgun in his hands.

Liwan clenched his fists and Kame noticed the familiar coldness in his face. The situation was getting quite dangerous.

"I don´t think this is necessary, Grenet," he watched the man´s face, but was ready to stop Liwan from doing anything stupid.

"I decide what´s necessary and what isn´t, Kamenashi. You," Grenet pointed the barrel of the gun at the Indian. "Get lost."

"Not before I get disinfection," Liwan was deadly serious.

"Really? Well, then we have a problem. I think I have to use force against you..."

"Put that thing away, Grenet!" Kame requested, stepping forward.

"You should care about your own business, baby boy," the man growled. "Before you get hurt because of some dirty redskin shit."

Kame wanted to jump on that bastard and teach him some manners, even though he knew it wouldn´t have solved the situation, but suddenly another voice joined their ´conversation´.

"I think you really should put your gun down, Mister."

The merchant, Indian and Kame looked at the new participant on the scene surprised. Grenet stiffened under the cold touch in his back. It was a newcomer from the day before and he was aiming with his own pistol at a very unpleasant place of Grenet´s body.

"You don´t want anyone to get hurt, do you?" the young man asked calmly.

Grenet gritted his teeth, but he lowered the shotgun slowly.

"Good," the stranger said satisfied and stepped back from him with the gun still in his hand.

Grenet turned immediately: "Who the fuck you think you´re? You´ve just threatened the sheriff´s deputy, dumbass!"

The black-haired gunslinger raised his eyebrows, looking quite honestly confused.

"I thought that this position is supposed to keep order and peace in town. Not to kill the unarmed."

The pissed off deputy spitted to the ground. There were too many people around listening to them for saying something careless.

"Is that disinfection all you need?" Kame looked at the Indian. Liwan nodded, so he turned back to the merchant. "I will buy it. I suppose you don´t have problem with that, Mr. Franko."

For a few seconds, the merchant seemed to be on the edge of outburst, but then he went into the shop and brought the small ampoule without a word. Kame gave him the requested amount from the money he got for the shopping. Franko pulled it from his hand roughly and marched back into his store.

"I will pay back to you," Indian lowered his head in the sign of gratitude, when Kame gave him the disinfection.

"Don´t worry about it," Kame assured him.

Liwan gave the last cold glance to the deputy, jumped onto his horse without a saddle and rode away with his head held high.

All that time the newcomer in their town and the deputy were having their match in who of them would have a sharper look.

"Don´t you have something in your eye, Mister? You keep blinking," the young gunslinger noted.

Kame was amazed by the stranger´s insolence, but it almost made him laugh at the same time.

Grenet narrowed his eyes: "I´ll watch you, stupid face."

The newcomer smiled at him without any sign that he took the insult personally: "Same here, Mister."

The deputy spitted out some saliva again and left the scene with the shotgun leaning onto his shoulder. The gunslinger returned his gun back to its sheath only after Grenet disappeared from their sight completely.

"Thanks for help, Mister," Kame appreciated.

"None needed," the black-haired one waved his hand. "I just don´t like the types like him..."

"Well... I think you had just made an enemy for yourself."

The young gunslinger shrugged, but it seemed too forcefully careless to Kame.

"Thank you, anyway. Can I do something for you in return?"

"Yes, actually. You can show me that barber´s place you mentioned yesterday."

*

The bartender led Jin through another narrow street, where the nice white building was located and the smell of soap was filling the air in front of the main door. He wouldn´t have had many troubles to find this place himself - Bozeman City was not so big - but he rather asked for the guide. He was interesting, that youngster from the saloon. To stand up for an Indian like that, it took guts.

"Here it is. Have a nice day, Mister."

The bartender was ready to leave right away, but something made Jin stop him.

"Wait a second," he caught him for an elbow.

The young man turned back to him surprised and stepped away a little, so Jin let his hand slip down.

"Anything else, Mister?"

"Yes," he nodded determined. "Can you please stop with that ´Mister´ thing already? There´s not such a huge age difference between us, you know. It makes me feel like an old man," he complained half-serious, half amused.

The bartender´s eyes widened after this. He probably surprised the younger one, but Jin felt the way that guy talked to him was stupid and he didn´t like it at all.

"Well..." the bartender obviously didn´t know what to say, so he decided to simplify it and reached out his hand toward him.

"I´m Jin," he introduced himself with an assuring smile.

The other one hesitated, but then accepted his gesture. His palm was warm and small in Jin´s grip.

"You can call me Kame," he didn´t repay the smile, but Jin didn´t mind that.

"Nice to meet you."

"For me too," Kame took a step back and continued observing him, but quite curiously this time. "But... Don´t you mind people calling you by your first name?"

"Well..." Jin put his hands into the pockets, suddenly not so sure about why he had introduced himself like that. "To be honest," he said slowly. "I don´t mind you to call me like that."

Kame was the one lost at words this time.

"Why?" he just managed to ask after a while.

Jin shrugged: "Simply because I like you," he grinned satisfied that he found the answer, which corresponded to the truth. "Can I ask you about something, too?"

The younger one was too surprised to react in any other way than nodding his head.

"Why did you stand up for that Indian? I don´t want to imply anything prejudiced as that asshole but… You know that you´re bringing yourself into troubles like that, don´t you?"

Kame was studying his face for a moment, probably wondering if Jin was worth a reply or not.

"He´s not just any Indian for me. He´s my friend," he said in the end.

"Wow… That´s…"

Kame´s face and voice became cold with the next words: "Weird? Crazy?"

"No!" Jin raised his hands in the air for defense. "I have nothing personal against Indians. I´ve met good ones as well as bad. It´s just surprising."

The young bartender calmed down and his expression changed after that, which made Jin feel relieved.

"Well…" all of the sudden Kame felt the urge to explain his attitude to Jin. "His father, a shaman of their tribe, saved my life when I was a kid. I´ve spent some time in their village, they taught me many things, took care of me. I´ll never stop paying them back for what they did for me. And Liwan happened to be my very good friend during that time."

Jin nodded with a serious face, wondering what could have happened to this likeable man in the past that it threatened his life itself.

"I understand… I didn´t want to offend you in any way, all right?"

That was the first time Kame smiled a little: "No harm done."

"What was that Indian´s name again?"

"Liwan."

"Sounds nice... Does it mean something?"

"Yes. Bear Sleeping."

Jin blinked in amusement.

"Well, that´s concise," he admitted. "He definitely seemed to me as a sleeping danger. I wouldn´t want to piss him off."

"And I wouldn´t recommend it to you either," Kame reacted.

"I´ll remember that," Jin laughed shortly.

It was surprisingly easy and pleasant to talk with Jin. It was very unusual to meet a stranger like him and Kame realized that thanks to that he had completely forgotten about his duties…

"Excuse me, but I have to go. Thanks for your help, once again."

"You´re welcome."

"Have a nice day, Mr… Ehm, Jin."

It was both weird and natural to say it aloud, but it made the young gunslinger smile widely: "You too, Kame."

The bartender left him in a hurry and Jin watched his slim figure until he disappeared behind the corner. To his inner surprise, he realized that he had never met someone like Kame in his life.

He grew up in a big city, surrounded by tough men, gunslingers and cowboys. They didn´t go far for a rough word or a bullet. The Wild West was not any safe or peaceful place to live in. Who was not able to adapt to that, was doomed to misery and death. That was why people were tough, rude, suspicious, while pretending to be strong, even though they weren´t. There was no other choice.

Kame was different. He was quite likeable; Jin had to admit that. With a slim figure, his brown hair almost reaching the shoulders and kind eyes he looked kind of girlish and it surely gained him a lot of mockery. It could have made him a coward doing everything just not to be noticed, but he was rather the opposite. Standing behind his opinions firmly, opposing the dangerous man with gun for his friend. It was quite admirable behavior.

Jin did not think that anyone in this city would have caught his attention like that. He just wanted to solve his business and leave. Kame happened to be a very nice surprise.

Finally, he turned to the barber´s place with the tempting idea of a bath in the hot water. Unfortunately, his dreamy expression disappeared right after he saw the price list on the wall.

"Thirty dollars for the hot water?!" his jaw dropped.

He was more than willing to pay more money for booze, but for the damn water? And another ten dollars were necessary for a soap and towel. Nevertheless, after the whole week of bathing in a damn cold river, he was eager for it.

So, despite the overpricing, Jin entered the house with an unsatisfied huff on his lips. Damn, he was about to skip his favorite drink that evening, or the savings he had with him would disappear faster than the steam, which was leaking out from under the door.

*

Mr. Franko wasn´t very helpful to him, when Kame came back to the store, but in the end he got everything necessary and returned to the saloon, where he got scolded by Miss McBain for being so late, as she had to hurry with the lunch preparation for their guests.

After that, Kame went to apologize to Mr. Harada for using his money for disinfection. He explained the whole situation and waited for the judgment from the strict man.

"I will deduct it from your salary," Mr. Harada said without any sign of annoyance. "Now help Melody with lunch and then you can go home. I will need you in the evening again."

"Yes, sir."

Harada didn´t say anything else and Kame was grateful for that.

"Can I ask you for one more favor?"

The older man narrowed his eyes: "What is it?"

"I´d like to take a day off tomorrow. Can I?"

The saloon´s owner put the rest of the cigarette down into the huge ashtray.

"What day will be tomorrow?"

"Sunday, sir."

"That´s all right then, everybody will be out of cash. You have my permission."

"Thank you, sir."

"I want you back on Monday morning."

"Of course," Kame nodded and almost turned away, but there was one more question from Mr. Harada: "How is your mother doing?"

"Still the same. Thank you for asking, Mr. Harada."

"At least it´s not worse," the man tried to sound encouraging.

Kame just nodded and walked inside the taproom. Harada was right; it was not worse. Yet. But he was afraid that it was just the question of time…

*

Jin left the barber´s place a few dollars poorer, but quite satisfied not only with the bath itself, which washed away all that smell and dust he had collected on the way to Bozeman City, but also with the information he gathered. The barber was quite a talkative man. During the bath and shaving, he talked almost all the time and it wasn´t even necessary to ask him anything. Just a little sign of interest was enough for the man to let go of the waterfall of famous gossips and the latest news.

Without any big effort, Jin found out that the man he was chasing after – Mr. Raynold Karnaka – hardly ever visited the city himself. He only had his deputy in the town – Math Grenet. He had the real authority around here, not the sheriff. That old man chose to shut up and live another day, before opposing the will of Karnaka´s right hand.

The boss spent most of the time in his mansion, a few miles east from the city, surrounded with huge property and tens of bodyguards. His name was feared within hundred miles radius and he was known for his cruelty, intelligence and power over people. It also seemed true what Jin had found out in the city he visited before. That Karnaka appreciated courage and skills with a gun a lot. There were many men, who wanted to join his ´employees´, but not many were able to gain Karnaka´s respect. Most of them were kicked out of his lands, lucky if with their clothes on, unlucky if on the hearse.

Jin was thinking a lot about a way to attract this man´s attention and there was one thing that he came up with. It was said that Karnaka had the collection of beautiful furs and animal heads. He was a hunter in his younger years and he was enjoying it even now. With regard to this fact, Jin thought that bringing a bear´s head as a gift wouldn´t be in vain. Nevertheless, it would have to be a grizzly bear and nothing less.

For Jin´s luck, Montana was well known for the scary tales about always-hungry gigantic bears. He had even spotted two of them himself when he was a kid. He was determined to track down and kill the animal. It was a great excuse for coming here, believable cover story and it could have taken him close enough to that man. And that was all he needed to put a proper bullet into his thousand times cursed head.