William Callahan | The Desert Wastes
There was only one woman in the world that William Callahan loved, and her name was Sally Masters. She was a short, curvy firecracker with big hair and a bigger mouth. She could handle a pistol, or a shotgun and could pop wheelies on her motorbike well enough to make everyone nervous. She had always made him nervous, and that was not an easy thing to do. She had had the accent of a southern belle, but the vocabulary of a sailor. Which was perfectly suitable for a bandit. But when she showed up at his doorstep with a wiggling bundle wrapped in rags, William realized that Sally was much more generous with her affections than he.
"Yah, gotta take'er, Billy. Please."
He visibly flinched at the nickname, and took a step back when she offered the bundle to him. He rubbed a rough hand over the back of his neck and looked away from her. "I don't know, Sally. What am I supposed to with her?"
Sally pulled the child back to her bosom and her gaze on him hardened, as if he was the one who had done her some great misdeed. "Jus watch'er! I can't keep'er."
"No," William's reply was fast and firm.
"Billy, they'll kill'er!" Sally's desperate shriek rang through the darkness, shortly followed by the cries of a woken child.
He was quiet then. Still standing on his ragged porch, staring down at the woman he loved and the child he couldn't see. He didn't need to see the child to know it wasn't his. If it were, she wouldn't be here, pleading with him so desperately. She'd gone off and broken his heart and now she wanted him to raise the consequences.
"Give her to me," he says, quite sometime after Sally's shrieks had echoed off into the distance, countered by the still wailing child. He held out his massive hands and the bandit woman eagerly deposited the child into them. The relief on her her face and her posture was immediately visible and William was sickened by it. "Get out of here, Sally," he didn't look at her as he pulled the child closer to his chest. "I don't ever want to see you again."
Sally Masters got on her motorcycle and disappeared into the night without another word.
William Callahan stood on his porch, and stared down at the child in his arms. She had pale skin like the light of the full moon, and her mama's cinnamon colored locks.
There was only one girl in the world that William Callahan loved, and he named her Cashmere.
There was only one woman in the world that William Callahan loved, and her name was Sally Masters. She was a short, curvy firecracker with big hair and a bigger mouth. She could handle a pistol, or a shotgun and could pop wheelies on her motorbike well enough to make everyone nervous. She had always made him nervous, and that was not an easy thing to do. She had had the accent of a southern belle, but the vocabulary of a sailor. Which was perfectly suitable for a bandit. But when she showed up at his doorstep with a wiggling bundle wrapped in rags, William realized that Sally was much more generous with her affections than he.
"Yah, gotta take'er, Billy. Please."
He visibly flinched at the nickname, and took a step back when she offered the bundle to him. He rubbed a rough hand over the back of his neck and looked away from her. "I don't know, Sally. What am I supposed to with her?"
Sally pulled the child back to her bosom and her gaze on him hardened, as if he was the one who had done her some great misdeed. "Jus watch'er! I can't keep'er."
"No," William's reply was fast and firm.
"Billy, they'll kill'er!" Sally's desperate shriek rang through the darkness, shortly followed by the cries of a woken child.
He was quiet then. Still standing on his ragged porch, staring down at the woman he loved and the child he couldn't see. He didn't need to see the child to know it wasn't his. If it were, she wouldn't be here, pleading with him so desperately. She'd gone off and broken his heart and now she wanted him to raise the consequences.
"Give her to me," he says, quite sometime after Sally's shrieks had echoed off into the distance, countered by the still wailing child. He held out his massive hands and the bandit woman eagerly deposited the child into them. The relief on her her face and her posture was immediately visible and William was sickened by it. "Get out of here, Sally," he didn't look at her as he pulled the child closer to his chest. "I don't ever want to see you again."
Sally Masters got on her motorcycle and disappeared into the night without another word.
William Callahan stood on his porch, and stared down at the child in his arms. She had pale skin like the light of the full moon, and her mama's cinnamon colored locks.
There was only one girl in the world that William Callahan loved, and he named her Cashmere.
I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you.
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