He stopped trying to reach the now-demolished house and turned back to the shattered guitar. There was a woman with her back turned to him dressed all in white with a white scarf covering her hair.
She bent over the pieces and picked them up. He tried calling out to her, warning her that the pieces were sharp, but his voice was gone.
He felt a growing peace as he realized she had picked up all of the pieces. She must not have felt the pain of the sharp edges as he had done.
Just as she was about to turn, he woke with a start, never having seen her face...
He sat in the bed and ran his hand over his face. He needed to get out for a while. His lips and throat were dry. There was only one thing that could slake his thirst and make the dreams go away. Throwing off the covers he got out of bed.
***
Music poured from the Three-Guns Saloon.
Thomas stood watching the building from across the street. It was no different from any other night. Patrons laughed, music played and people gambled. The atmosphere was lively. Most evenings he would already be in the thick of it. Or, more likely, he would be sleeping it off in the cell by now.
But something was different tonight. He had saddled his horse and thought about the beer and cards as the horse’s hooves beat their familiar path to the town, but Now that he was here, he felt glued to the spot, an inexplicable barrier holding him back.
As he stood beside his horse looking towards the saloon, Rosaline’s puffy eyes and his recent nightmare played through his mind. His tongue ran over his chapped lips as he hesitated.
He couldn’t explain why he was so hesitant. It wasn’t as though anyone was stopping him, yet, there was a growing unrest in the pit of his stomach, as if entering the saloon would make the house come tumbling down, and forfeit the peace he felt at the end of the dream.
If only he could see her face, he felt for sure that the meaning of the dream would be clear.
His attention was drawn back to the present when a drunken man came staggering out of the saloon. He fumbled forward with a bottle in his hand and toppled head over heels into the empty street. There was a roar of laughter from inside the saloon.
Was that what he looked like? Did people laugh at him when he fell into a drunken stupor? he questioned himself.
“Why don’t you go home, son?” a familiar voice asked from beside him.
Thomas turned to see Sheriff Ezrah Gideon watching him, wearing his uniform and wide-brimmed cowboy hat. He cut a neat picture compared to Thomas’ dirty boots and stained shirt, making Thomas even more aware of how far he’d fallen.
Ezrah’s eyes were kind. They held no judgment, only compassion.
He’d grown up around the sheriff. The families had spent many nights in each other's company. The thought of how the man who’d been like an uncle to him, seeing him as he was now, caused a pang of shame.
“Evening, Sherriff,” Thomas greeted him.
Ezrah walked forward and gently laid a hand on Thomas’ shoulder. “You don’t belong out here, son.”
Thomas bit back the anger he felt whenever anyone tried to help. He turned back to the saloon, the shame of how far he’d fallen spurring him towards anything that would ease the pain for a while. The reins dropped from his hand as he took a step forward and shook off the hand.
“I won’t stop you if you want to go. But I wish wouldn’t.”
Something in the way the man spoke made him halt in his tracks.
“What do I have to go back to, Sheriff? There’s nothing left.” His words were bitter and full of hurt.
“That’s not true son, you have a boy that needs his father now more than ever. Do you want him to grow up thinking his old man is a drunk?”
The words cut deep into his soul and he clenched his fists and started towards the saloon.
“You and I both know it's not true. You’re a good man Thomas, but how will Robbie know if you don’t show him?”
Thomas turned to address the Ezrah Gideon. “Maybe he will be better off without me, maybe they all will,” he said while he pictured Rosaline’s puffy red eyes. In his mind, he could see how things would be better if he wasn’t around.
Rosaline could move in and look after the house and his family. They could be happy and whole again if he wasn’t there.
Ezrah sighed sympathetically. “Hurt people, hurt people, Thomas. Think about that before anything else. Don’t let your own pain hurt those around you. Your disappearance will hurt the people you love. And I don’t just mean tonight.
