Dodge City

“Sure is quiet herein this town, aint it grandpa.”

“Sure is Son.”

“Wonder what they do for excitement around here.”

“Ha-ha, sit around and watch the cows get fat.”

‘Sure is a small town tho’, aint it.”

“Sure is. You hungry, want something to eat?”

“Sure Grandpa, were we gonna’ go?”

“How’s Mason & Daly sound?”

"Sounds good.”

Grandpa parked the wagon. Me and him walked into the Mason & Daly. We sat at a little table off to the side. He told me to order what ever I wanted to have for breakfast. The barmaid asked what I’d like, and I said “Bacon and eggs and pancakes.” Grandpa nodded and he said he’d have the same, with out the pancakes. He also told the barmaid to bring us some butter milk to.

After we finished, he called the barmaid over, and whispered something in her ear. She returned with a bottle of Wiser Whiskey and two shot glasses. She set one down in front of me and 1 in front of him. She filled them both up, then left walked back to behind the bar.
“What are these for, Grandpa?” I asked

He replied, “when your dad was about your age, I give him his first drink of whiskey. It’s a family tradition. Fathers have been giving their sons a drink of whiskey for the first time, for more generations than you can count. It’s to initiate being a man. I’m just sorry your father can’t be here to do it with you.”

I drank the first shot. It went down hard. The second wasn’t as bad, and the third was the best out of the three.

“Thanks Grandpa.”

“No problem son. Now you’re a man.”

Just then a group of men walked through the door. They were tough, mean, ugly, and smelt of cheap stale whiskey and sweat.

“Don’t look at them son, they’ll only cause trouble.”

“What you look-in at boy,” said one of the men.

“He’s not looking at nothing Red. Just leave him alone, we can’t afford no trouble in this town” said another man, “He don’t mean no trouble folks, he’s just a little edgy sometimes.”

“What you mean “Edgy” Rusty”

“Nothin man, just don’t cause any trouble here.”

“Would you like to step out in the Street, Rusty? You yellow belly coward.”

“No since is there, Red?”

Grandpa grabbed my arm and said “we better go son,” as he laid some money on the table.
We ran out the door, as reached the wagon, we heard gun shots, and we hurried out of town, never looking back. We heard later on that Red was shot and killed by Rusty, and that he was to be hung the following Wednesday. We never went back to Dodge City again.