My feet are frying on the sun-baked clay. They feel like cakes in a skillet.

I told Vendosa, my deputy, to chug down a cold one as I walked down the town’s streets. Nothing up. No sense in both of us getting sunsick.

I sought action. I wanted to be the Town Sheriff. Action is an unknown word here.

I had been sheriff of Traverstown for so long I was wearing a hole on the desk where I stretched out.

This town was so slow, it seemed the very dust on the ground pleaded for action. In my mind, I began calling the town, Travesty, a town that is a mockery of what it should be.

Dirt farmers work the land to feed their folks. Sometimes, those less fortunate tread upon their crops. There’s a small bit of trouble, then all is settled again. And that’s the action!

Why the people aren’t confounded out of sheer boredom is beyond me.

But, this is the kind of life that satisfied Mara. She didn’t want to be the wife of a hero. She wanted a providing husband to put in his work hours, then return home and act the role of a genteel family man.

So, that’s how the story unfolded. Till that afternoon, when the sun decided it had put in enough hours, and disappeared. Gone, too, was Vendosa.

He had never returned.

Sometimes I pretended to act like a real cowboy and drive my cayuse, but the old crowbait knew the way so well I could sleep in the saddle and return home safely.

When I reached the old oak just beyond the bend to my home, I found out why Vendosa hadn’t returned. Someone had invited him to a hanging party. His contorted corpse indicated he wasn’t pleased to have been the honored guest.

I didn’t have to search far for clues. On his broken neck, carved with a knife: The letter T.

Tonteria. His mark.

When I was the town Tamer in Silverton, Tonteria was a buscadero, a gunfighter. Absolutely without fear.

He ran me a merry chase till the noose finally caught up with him. Or so I thought.

Tonteria had escaped the noose.

He must’ve followed my trail till he found me. This was a warning.

I hightailed it to my home. I had to protect Mara.

She was always on the porch, waving me in and greeting me with a kiss.

Today, no sign.

I should’ve been more cautious, but all I could think of was Mara. The shadowy light performed strange and ominous pantomimes upon the doorway and inner walls.

I called out to Mara, but all I got in return was a few muffled shrieks from the bedroom. I scurried there as fast as I possibly could.

I had hoped she was spared the pain I did not even want to imagine, but the walls did bear the signs of a dire struggle.

She lay there, tied and bleeding, with Tonteria sitting beside her, as if he was biding his time till I returned.

I peeked inside, then tried to rush in. Tonteria fired a shot. I moved just in time for it to crease my right shoulder.

Still suffering the fire inside me, I lunged upon Tonteria, but saw it was already too late for Mara. She breathed her last.

Suddenly, I went savage. I don’t exactly remember all my actions at the time, but I tackled Tonteria with everything I had.

Tonteria managed to slide out quick enough to jump through the bedside window.

I followed, so closely behind.

Tonteria's pistol was empty. He dropped it, pulled out a carving knife, and heaved it through the air. It found its mark just below the bullet crease, compounding my pain.

Blood was pouring faster than the spigots at the Long Branch.

Tonteria ducked behind a tree, pointing his gun, with me as the target.

By this time, I was in so much pain, I could barely move.

The only thing that kept me going was the beautiful image of Mara and knowing what she went through.

As he fired, the pain caused me to drop to my knees. The bullet missed its mark.

I struggled to draw with my right hand, my side now throbbing with pain.

I felt a spectral hand supporting my arm, lifting it up. Its finger gripped mine and I pulled the trigger.

Tonteria fell. Then, the spectral figure seemed to form into the face of Mara.

I heard her say, “Goodbye!”

Some days later, my right side bandaged, I led the solemn march with the drum banging so slowly.

I had ached for action.

My few moments were enough to last a lifetime.

Her life wasn’t worth it, at all.

My ambitions were a Travesty.