Mama Lee & Mayflower
Unfinished, August 2016
It was high noon outside, but the saloon was much much darker inside. The building had all windows and doors heavily covered; the darker rooms made the customers lose track of time. They had to be ushered in and thrown out, both competently done by Mama Lee.
The girls all thought Mama Lee was a vampire. She was incredibly pale, seemed to sleep very little, never ate, not that the girls ever saw it happen. That was enough to fuel the gossip. Nevermind the way she blushed, whenever she was around her outlaw, or the way she fanned herself when it was summer.
Mama Lee wasn't a vampire. What she was, indeed, is a woman who understood the power of the myths built around her. So she did nothing to dissuade her girls of their ideas.
Mayflower, Mama Lee's best friend, was the first to encourage that image. She understood the power of images herself. Mayflower was a tiny woman, a free soul so filled with rage, her only chance for true happiness in that charred land was becoming a mercenary.
But who would hire such a tiny, sweet looking lady as a gun, as a bodyguard?
Mama Lee did, when she got to the wasted lands on the outskirts of Complex 31. She got a ruthless enforcer and a friend for life.
Mayflower got her image as a ruthless psycho with a penchant for violence when she started using unnecessary force with some of her targets, for apparently no reason. What people didn't know was that Mayflower researched each and every one of her targets, not only to find the best way to get them, but to find out if they deserved punishment.
She took every assignment, took every bounty. She also helped relocate more than one family. Mama Lee used to say she delivered justice where justice was much needed.
Mama Lee established her saloon, met an outlaw to call hers, he became the enforcer, Mayflower moved away, started taking bounties further away, but she often stopped by the saloon for a good chat, for a hot meal, for the alcohol and the chance to sleep in a warm, comfortable bed, surrounded by warm bodies.
So it wasn't a big surprise to Mama Lee when she saw Mayflower entering the saloon. The women smiled at each other and tipped their heads in recognition; Mayflower's hand moving to her hat in a mockery of masculine etiquette that always made Mama Lee laugh.
The surprise came when a big guy grabbed Mayflower's arm, making her turn to him.
“Here she is, here she is... 've always wanted ta meet this Mayflower people talk about.”
“Oh yeah?” Mayflower said, pulling her arm from him and stepping back. “How do you know I'm this Mayflower you're looking for?”
“They say Mayflower is a tiny and cute as a button maid who walk like a man, talk like a man, lay like a man and tip her hat ta whores.” The big guy glances at Mama Lee for a second, a crooked smile tilting his mouth up. “I ain't seeing no one else here tipping their hats to that whore over there.”
Mama Lee stood up, red as a branding iron ready to use. Mayflower smiled and raised her hand.
“Your info is wrong. I ain't no maid, I lay with whoever the fuck I want and I tip my hat to all the ladies that happen to make my acquaintance.” Mayflower smirked and tipped her hat to the big man. The whole saloon laughed, Mama's girls even hooted and clapped happily.
“Ain't no woman gonna smartass me.” The big man muttered, then threw a punch. She stepped back, avoiding the contact, then forward, gun in hand, moving her hand up until the barrel of the gun was pressed against under his chin. The man suddenly stopped moving and stood very still.
“What's that?”
“The Devil's right hand.” Mayflower said softly. “And if you don't wanna see the rest of him, you shut the fuck up and get out of here.” The man grabbed his hat from his table and put it on his head, clearly angry, then he turned to the door. “No, no, not yet. Pay your due.” The man growled, threw a few coins on the table and tried to get on his way once again. “No, no. Not yet. Turn around and tip your hat to Mama Lee. Thank her for the hospitality. Call her Ma'am.”
“Thank ya, ma'am.”
The man walked to the door under the aim of Mayflower's gun. The whole saloon was tense, silent, only Mama Lee and Mayflower smiling softly.
“Before you go, let me share some advice my daddy shared with me when I was a kid.” The man looked back, his hand on the door. Mayflower was still pointing her gun at him. “My daddy always said there ain't no good in an evil hearted woman, you don't go using bad credit down in Complex 31, there ain't no good chain gang and you don't fucking mess with Mama Lee. You ain't cut out to be no Jesse James, son. Now fuck off, I don't wanna see you here again.”
The moment the door closes, Mayflower places her pistol back in the holster and goes back to Mama Lee's table, smiling. Some of the girls pat her shoulder, whispering thank yous; one even kisses her cheek. Other girls watch her from afar, shocked. They must be new in the saloon.
Mayflower sits just besides Mama Lee, facing the saloon; the other people in the table just leave, silently. Mama Lee holds her good friend's hand and squeezes it, smiling.
“Evening, Mayflower.”
“Evening, Mama Lee.”
“First and foremost, thank you. I just got a few questions about that monologue of yours.” Mama Lee opened her fan and used it to hide her amused expression from the saloon.
“Shoot.”
“Which of The Highwaymen is your daddy?” Mama Lee giggled when Mayflower exploded in laughter.
“Aw, hell, you got me. For someone who doesn't like Old Country music, you sure can recognize a lot of songs!”
“My dad liked Old Country. I was raised on that stuff.” She answered softly, patting Mayflower's hand. “It's always good to see you.”
“I'm afraid I can't say that... Not today. I don't have good news. They found me.”
It was high noon outside, but the saloon was much much darker inside. The building had all windows and doors heavily covered; the darker rooms made the customers lose track of time. They had to be ushered in and thrown out, both competently done by Mama Lee.
The girls all thought Mama Lee was a vampire. She was incredibly pale, seemed to sleep very little, never ate, not that the girls ever saw it happen. That was enough to fuel the gossip. Nevermind the way she blushed, whenever she was around her outlaw, or the way she fanned herself when it was summer.
Mama Lee wasn't a vampire. What she was, indeed, is a woman who understood the power of the myths built around her. So she did nothing to dissuade her girls of their ideas.
Mayflower, Mama Lee's best friend, was the first to encourage that image. She understood the power of images herself. Mayflower was a tiny woman, a free soul so filled with rage, her only chance for true happiness in that charred land was becoming a mercenary.
But who would hire such a tiny, sweet looking lady as a gun, as a bodyguard?
Mama Lee did, when she got to the wasted lands on the outskirts of Complex 31. She got a ruthless enforcer and a friend for life.
Mayflower got her image as a ruthless psycho with a penchant for violence when she started using unnecessary force with some of her targets, for apparently no reason. What people didn't know was that Mayflower researched each and every one of her targets, not only to find the best way to get them, but to find out if they deserved punishment.
She took every assignment, took every bounty. She also helped relocate more than one family. Mama Lee used to say she delivered justice where justice was much needed.
Mama Lee established her saloon, met an outlaw to call hers, he became the enforcer, Mayflower moved away, started taking bounties further away, but she often stopped by the saloon for a good chat, for a hot meal, for the alcohol and the chance to sleep in a warm, comfortable bed, surrounded by warm bodies.
So it wasn't a big surprise to Mama Lee when she saw Mayflower entering the saloon. The women smiled at each other and tipped their heads in recognition; Mayflower's hand moving to her hat in a mockery of masculine etiquette that always made Mama Lee laugh.
The surprise came when a big guy grabbed Mayflower's arm, making her turn to him.
“Here she is, here she is... 've always wanted ta meet this Mayflower people talk about.”
“Oh yeah?” Mayflower said, pulling her arm from him and stepping back. “How do you know I'm this Mayflower you're looking for?”
“They say Mayflower is a tiny and cute as a button maid who walk like a man, talk like a man, lay like a man and tip her hat ta whores.” The big guy glances at Mama Lee for a second, a crooked smile tilting his mouth up. “I ain't seeing no one else here tipping their hats to that whore over there.”
Mama Lee stood up, red as a branding iron ready to use. Mayflower smiled and raised her hand.
“Your info is wrong. I ain't no maid, I lay with whoever the fuck I want and I tip my hat to all the ladies that happen to make my acquaintance.” Mayflower smirked and tipped her hat to the big man. The whole saloon laughed, Mama's girls even hooted and clapped happily.
“Ain't no woman gonna smartass me.” The big man muttered, then threw a punch. She stepped back, avoiding the contact, then forward, gun in hand, moving her hand up until the barrel of the gun was pressed against under his chin. The man suddenly stopped moving and stood very still.
“What's that?”
“The Devil's right hand.” Mayflower said softly. “And if you don't wanna see the rest of him, you shut the fuck up and get out of here.” The man grabbed his hat from his table and put it on his head, clearly angry, then he turned to the door. “No, no, not yet. Pay your due.” The man growled, threw a few coins on the table and tried to get on his way once again. “No, no. Not yet. Turn around and tip your hat to Mama Lee. Thank her for the hospitality. Call her Ma'am.”
“Thank ya, ma'am.”
The man walked to the door under the aim of Mayflower's gun. The whole saloon was tense, silent, only Mama Lee and Mayflower smiling softly.
“Before you go, let me share some advice my daddy shared with me when I was a kid.” The man looked back, his hand on the door. Mayflower was still pointing her gun at him. “My daddy always said there ain't no good in an evil hearted woman, you don't go using bad credit down in Complex 31, there ain't no good chain gang and you don't fucking mess with Mama Lee. You ain't cut out to be no Jesse James, son. Now fuck off, I don't wanna see you here again.”
The moment the door closes, Mayflower places her pistol back in the holster and goes back to Mama Lee's table, smiling. Some of the girls pat her shoulder, whispering thank yous; one even kisses her cheek. Other girls watch her from afar, shocked. They must be new in the saloon.
Mayflower sits just besides Mama Lee, facing the saloon; the other people in the table just leave, silently. Mama Lee holds her good friend's hand and squeezes it, smiling.
“Evening, Mayflower.”
“Evening, Mama Lee.”
“First and foremost, thank you. I just got a few questions about that monologue of yours.” Mama Lee opened her fan and used it to hide her amused expression from the saloon.
“Shoot.”
“Which of The Highwaymen is your daddy?” Mama Lee giggled when Mayflower exploded in laughter.
“Aw, hell, you got me. For someone who doesn't like Old Country music, you sure can recognize a lot of songs!”
“My dad liked Old Country. I was raised on that stuff.” She answered softly, patting Mayflower's hand. “It's always good to see you.”
“I'm afraid I can't say that... Not today. I don't have good news. They found me.”
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