“I was just leaving,” he said as he passed the sheriff on his way out.
“Make sure that you do,” Sheriff Gideon calmly replied before looking back at Thomas. “I think you’d better come with me.”
Thomas swayed slightly as he tried to focus on the sheriff. His vision was blurring even worse from the blow he had received, and he could feel a trickle of blood as it dripped from just above his eyebrow.
“I’ll send for the doctor to take a look at you.” He turned to the men who had been gambling with Thomas. “You boys want to lend us a hand here?”
They nodded and walked over to Thomas, throwing his arms over their shoulders.
Thomas hung limply between the men and the world started to fade as everything went black.
***
Thomas opened his eyes and stared at the iron bars of his cell. The cell was cold and drafty, the single window letting the cool air drift in over the small bed.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he knew for sure where he was. Sleeping it off in the jail was fast becoming his normal behavior.
He a door open in the distance and footsteps growing louder as someone strode towards him. His world was still spinning as he tried to focus his eyes.
He blinked a few times and ran his hand over his face, wincing at the sudden pain that shot through his head. Forcing himself up, he dragged his legs over the metal frame of the bed and placed his dirty boots on the floor.
He hung his head in his lap and grasped at the memories that were just beyond his reach.
How had he gotten here? He could remember going to the bank that afternoon and walking out after being denied a loan once again, and then walking across the road to the saloon.” His thoughts were blank beyond that point.
No financial establishment would come anywhere near him. He had accumulated masses of debt over the past few months because of his gambling. There was no hope of repaying it without yet another loan. He’d blown through all the usurers in the space of a few months.
He turned his aching head to check the position of the moon that was partially visible through the tinny barred window. He estimated that he had been out for at least three hours. Once upon a time, he would have called out to God in moments like these. But these days there was just an empty void. Nobody to turn to when nothing made sense.
How could he call upon a God that had taken his mother and wife? His prayers to save them had gone up and bounced straight back down. Unanswered.
“Evening, Thomas.” His thoughts were interrupted by the doctor carrying his brown leather bag. “Shall we take a look at you then?” He fetched the key from the opposite wall and unlocked the door. The squat, bespectacled man stepped into the cell, the buttons on his coat straining against his chest and belly as he looked Thomas over before placing his bag on the floor in front of his too-frequent patient.
Thomas stared at the top of the man’s balding head as he opened his bag to take out some cotton and ointment to clean the wound.
“Looks like a small laceration,” he said to Thomas as he dabbed the wound with a cotton ball.
Thomas winced.
“Three stitches should do it,” he remarked.
“Is that necessary?’ Thomas groaned, not looking forward to the needle.
“If you want the bleeding to stop. Most of the blood is dry, but the second you bump it, it will start bleeding all over again,” he said, retrieving the needle and thread from his bag.
Thomas bit his lip and clenched his fists as the doctor worked at closing his wound.
“There now,” the doctor said after a few minutes of stitching. “That should hold.”
He repacked his bag and left the cell, shutting and locking the door behind him before returning the key to its hook on the wall.
Thomas’s anger grew as the door slammed shut.
He wasn’t a hardened criminal, yet they had him under lock and key like a common thief. Since when was drinking a crime? He reasoned his behavior away as
his jaw clenched at the thought of being locked up. This was not who he was.
How had he ended up here so many times?
