Featured Fiction - July

Griff Harvey and the Moonjig Lad

--- Steven Albers

You must think ye know all about the toughest, boldest cowboys and girls ever to roll across the majestic American West. That there legendary gunfight at the O.K. Corral made Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday heroes, and I’ll be a rat on a spit if you don’t remember the tale of Billy the Kid. Heck, even Black Bart’s fancy pants robberies became famous across the Old West. But there’s one cowboy you prolly ain’t never heard of. He wasn’t the brightest boy I’d met, and he sure as hell didn’t have the trigger to make up for it... But he did have one thing no other outlaw coulda dreamt of havin’: a heart of gold.

The name’s Griffin Harvey, but you can call me Griff. Sit back and relax, friend, ‘cause I’m about to tell you the story of a real hero, the Moonjig Lad.

It weren’t a day unlike any other back in that podunk town Razortail. I’d just come back from a cattle drive and was fixin’ for some brew when I saw a small man I ain’t never saw before sittin’ at the ol’ Noose Saloon. The curious monkey I am, I approached this fellow to see why he’s landed in our town all of a sudden. But soon as he turned ‘round, I could tell he don’t talk much. No, it wasn’t cause he had the face of a swine; he did look tough and rugged, as I figure anyone who happens to hobble into Razortail would be - It’s not the easiest town to find, see? 

“I ain’t seen you around before, cowboy,” I says, “what brings you to Razortail this time o’ year?”

For a while he didn’t say nothing.

“Name’s Griff Harvey. I don’t take kindly to strangers who think they own this saloon.” I spoke up after a good while, but still he was quiet as a cactus. “You have a name, don’t you, lad? Let’s hear it.”

Another silence passed, and finally he spoke up. “Some call me Moonjig.”

“Moon... Jig? Well that’s an odd name, son. But I ain’t one to judge. So tell me, Moonjig, what brings you to Razortail this fine evening?”

O’ course, I wasn’t expecting him to say much for a while, but immediately he spoke up, sounding pretty worried. “You ain’t safe here, Griff.”

“Come again?” I asked. “Where’d this come from all of a sudden?”

“Something bad’s going to happen, and soon.”

“These are some pretty serious words comin’ out of your mouth. Why should I believe you?”

“I’ve been waitin’ here to tell someone important like yourself all day. The Gray Gun is on his way here as we speak, Griff.”

“The Gray Gun, you don’t say... Hah, your story keeps getting more and more wild, Moonjig! Now give me one good reason why I should believe that the most dangerous outlaw who ever lived would want anything from this little hellhole!”

As you could imagine, the rest of the night didn’t go so well. He tried spewin’ lies that the notorious bandit Gray Gun wanted something from Razortail. But I ain’t as thick as he thinks I is. Someone as talented and famous as he is has bigger things to do than rob an old, broke town. Yet Moonjig looked like he was speakin’ the truth, like some kind of psychic. 

Like any sane person would, I ignored the man’s warning and treated the next day like nothing was wrong. After a crazy night like that, I decided to take my horse and ride for a little. The wind on my back and red dirt at my feet were refreshing to my senses, and I felt on top of the world... Until I saw it coming.

Off in the distance, maybe a half-day’s ride away, was a cloud of dust, and the faint sounds of horses galloping. First I wanted to say they were just passin’ through. But who am I kiddin’? Nobody “just passes” through Razortail. I didn’t want to believe it, but Moonjig was right.

I went and hightailed it back to the saloon to find him, and sure enough, there he was, sittin’ right where he was the night before.

“I’m sorry to have doubted you, Moonjig.. But he’s comin’... Gray Gun’s comin’! How did you know, lad?!” I questioned.

“Well... It’s kind of embarassing,” he started, “But I-I’ve gone and stole his gun by accident.”  He spoke as he flashed the matte gray handle at me from his holster.

“So, that’s it? You took his gun and tried to run? Son, there’s no way that’s gonna work; you know that.”

“I... I really didn’t mean to, Griff. That night’s still blurry, but all I remember is that I woke up the next day with his gun. I-I tried givin’ it back, but I’m afraid he’s gonna put a bullet in me...”

“You want to give it back? That’s crazy talk, lad! You’re in possession of one of the finest guns this land has ever known! You’ve gotta prove that to him! You’ve got a quick trigger, right?”

“No, actually. I can barely hit a buffalo from ten feet away.”

“You’re truly somethin’, Moonjig.” I paused for a second, and spoke again when I’d hatched a brilliant plan. “Hows about we pretend you already passed through? I’ll hide you in the cellar, and when he comes I’ll tell him you’ve already left town!”

“That... Sounds great, actually. You’d do that for me, Griff?”

“To be honest, I’m doin’ it for the sake of Razortail. We don’t got much time though, let’s get you to the cellar. He ain’t never gonna look for you there.”

Nightfall came, and with it, Gray Gun and his posse.

“He’s here. Let me speak to him,” said Gray Gun, standing in the middle of town.

“I’m sorry, Gray Gun, but he’s already le-”

Before I could finish, Gray Gun drew and shot the gun right out of my holster.

“He’s here! Tell him to bring me my revolver and I won’t have to burn this town to the ground!”

Keeping my composure, I spoke again. “You can search this place all you want, but Moonjig left this morning.”

“Pssh. It takes real balls to lie to my face,” he said, “so I’ll believe you for now. But if he’s really hiding in this garbage heap, you’ll regret ever getting on my bad side, cowboy.”

And just like that, he was gone. I went to fetch Moonjig, but when I reached the cellar, he’d gone and run off too. Angry as I was, I noticed that he’d left something behind: Gray Gun’s revolver.

I didn’t see Moonjig again for quite some time, and until we met again, I thought he was nothing more than scum of the earth, setting Razortail up to be destroyed. I feel I’ve told you enough of this story for now, though, but maybe if you beg hard enough, I’ll tell you what happened when the Moonjig Lad finally came face-to-face with that villain Gray Gun.

**all fiction is property of the author and EAL Magazine, please do not use or copy in any form without permission**