Nowhere Men

Chapter one: Murphy

Note: This chapter contains violence, language, and gun use. All chapters will have a trigger warning at the top.

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"Careful there! And stay outta them nettles, y'hear?"

"Sorry Sheriff Murphy!"

Despite my warning and their apology, the two boys continue running around town, dodging other men and women, who call out reprimands of their own. The boys are, of course, ignorant to the remarks and continue their game, leaving me in the dust. I don't mind too much though, they are children, after all.

Plain Hollow is in its twilight hours now; a soft pink color paints the sky, with the faintest specks of stars. Other than the children running amok, the town is at its most peaceful. Families settle in for the night, shops begin closing up, and younger folks hide away at the saloon for a fun night out. Lights dim into a faint darkness, and Plain Hollow is completely bathed in the glow of the ending day. A cloudless dusk sky would lead to a star-filled night, and so I eagerly prepare for my post.

"Good evenin', Sheriff Murphy."

Pulled out from my thoughts, I glance at my Deputy Sheriff, Bill Porter, and offer him a polite nod. He's an excitable younger man with a rather inquisitive nature. Not the smartest, and certainly young and foolish, but an incredibly hard worker. My gaze returns to the sky and I concentrate on the changing colors. The pink's turning more purple now. I hear Bill join my side and, with a quick glance, I catch him staring upwards as well, though this only lasts a moment, and he looks back at me with a questioning look. He wants to talk, and clearly does not want to interrupt my reverie. A smile tugs at the corner of my lips, and I shake my head, amused. "How are you, Porter?"

He shrugs and, with that, we begin walking down Main Street. "Fine, fine. I ain't too bad, Sheriff. How're ya?" His voice sounds muffled and I notice that his cheeks are stuffed with something. Before I can predict what he's chewing on, he spits out a glob of tobacco that lands near the porch of one of the shops. I thank the stars that no townsfolk saw it, and elbow his side, giving him a stern look.

"Hey. What'd I tell you about that stuff? Rots your teeth, and it's mighty rude. What if you did that in front of a nice lady?"

Porter, embarrassed, wipes his mouth with his sleeve, and gives me a defensive look.

"Well, I ain't ever thinking of doing that in front of a pretty gal. Besides, you smoke! Ain't that worse or something?" I can tell he's teasing, and I scoff.

"I'm not interested in whether or not it's worse," I reply, "what I'm saying is spitting that stuff out isn't gonna help you find a girl."

"I ain't interested in any broads. Who cares?"

"They're not broads, they're ladies." I correct him. "And I think I saw something different when you were talking to Miss Abigail Spade yesterday. Or am I mistaken?"

Porter's face turns bright red, and I nearly laugh when he attempts to sputter out some excuses about the fact. He finally admits defeat, and gives a bashful smile. "Yeah...she's real pretty. Smart too! Smarter than me for sure."

The phrase 'Everyone's smarter than you' lands on the tip of my tongue, but I decide to say nothing, noticing the tint in his cheeks and the way his eyes dart back and forth. So I hum in response. He looks back at me and a cheeky smile spreads across his face.

"What about you, Sheriff? Ain't there a pretty gal you've been eyein'?"

I sigh, already aggravated, the question having been asked so many times. Porter knows this, clearly from his shit-eating grin, and I answer with the same honesty I've always given. "I'm not interested in finding a lady. I have no interest in marriage."