High in the wilds where the rivers run pure and free, the mountain tops are adorned with lily white snow and the fir trees are forever green and gigantic, could be found nestled in a verdant valley, the booming town of Timberland, in the year of '98 - 1898 that is. Besides the gold that old grizzled prospectors sluiced from nearby pebbly streams, grew a vast forest, a wealth of trees that were so wide and tall, they seemed to reach the heavens above. And although loggers from all over the country naturally migrated to and congregated in the area, there was none tougher, rougher, meaner and down right ornery than Spruce-Topper-Jack Malone. He could climb a tree, swing an axe or wield a saw faster than any lumberjack; why hell, he was so strong; he could almost pull a huge tree uphill better than a team of bald-faced Clydesdale workhorses.
Jack Malone was a big man: he stood 6'6" and weighed 240 pounds. He was devilishly handsome, his swarthy complexion and shock of thick black hair that swung down across his forehead caught many the lady's eye. His eyes were the colour of cold grey clouds and when they darkened, you best beware because one fist was made of granite and the other was steel. His nose was slightly twisted from a kick in the face by a wild mustang but legend has it, that when Spruce-Topper-Jack drove his fist into the horse's head, he killed it instantly - yessiree - Jack Malone was definitely a man's man.
Like Samson had his Delilah, Jack Malone had a weakness; her name was Princess Timber-Kitty and she was the owner of the Golden Timber Saloon. She was a tall woman; stood 6' in her bare feet and her skin was as white as Grecian marble. Her long red hair was as crimson as a morning sunrise just before a storm and her eyes were as green as emeralds; they sparkled just like jewels. Her nose was slender and slightly upturned with a host of freckles abundantly sprinkled across the top of it and just below her eyes. Her sensual mouth was full and firm, much like her body; a lumberjack's fantasy; come true.
Princess Timber-Kitty had a peculiar but sexy accent. She told everyone she was highly educated and that she had been forced to flee from a foreign country where she had lived in a palace as a princess. (In actual fact, she came from the east coast, a New York City girl that got her education out behind the barn and in the barn.) However, regardless of where she got her education or where she came from, Kitty (as her steady customers called her) was a classy slut and had a heart of pure gold - she staked many a down and out prospector and helped many an injured lumberjack get back on his feet.
It's not surprising that Spruce-Topper-Jack had a real heart on for Princess Timber-Kitty but no matter how hard he tried to loosen her girdle, she wouldn't have anything to do with him; he was unkempt, uneducated, unrefined, unfriendly, and most of all: underpaid in her eyes. As many times as Kitty rejected Jack Malone's advances, he was determined to make her his gal, even if it meant picking her up, placing her over his knee and giving her a good spanking in front of all the Golden Timber patrons before carrying her upstairs and having his way with her in her personal boudoir.
Now, as legend has it, one Friday night after being paid his hard-earned wages and living out in the bush with a bunch of surly, manly lumberjacks for four months straight, Spruce-Topper-Jack came to town. He was in a snarly mood when the lumber wagon dropped him and the rest of the logging crew in front of the bat-wing gates of the Golden Timber Saloon. He'd had lots of time to think about it and he'd made up his mind that Kitty would belong to him that night or she'd never sing again in her peculiar-accented voice. He'd boasted to his logger pals about making Kitty his gal and they believed him, or even if they didn't, they weren't about to contradict him.
As soon as Jack Malone entered the saloon, many of the patrons left - they could see in his dark grey eyes, that a storm of trouble would soon be underway. While the piano player pounded out a lively tune and Kitty warbled a bit off key in her oddly-accented voice, Spruce-Topper-Jack and his thirsty followers were pounding back the booze. He never took his eyes off her even when he turned his back, because then he could see her every move in the wall length mirror above the bar. They drank many a bottle through the night until one by one Jack Malone's comrades fell to the floor and were thrown out into the street. As usual, he'd drank every last one of them under the table and was still yelling for more whiskey; not the cheap, watered down stuff either. He'd leered at Kitty off and on through the evening and also made some very rude comments about when and how he was going to have his way with her.
At closing time, the only ones left in the Golden Timber Saloon was the bartender, Kitty and Spruce-Topper-Jack but outside, a lot of curious eyes were peering through the windows to see what might happen. The bartender was a big man and could handle almost any ruffian but as he reached for the shotgun resting on a shelf under the bar, Jack Malone grabbed him by the front of his white, starched shirt and hit him with such a powerful uppercut that it broke his jaw in three places and sent him crashing into the full-length mirror above the bar, and falling in a bloody heap amidst the broken glass, he gurgled once and died.
The spectators outside the Golden Timber Saloon were sure that Princess Timber-Kitty would come flying through the bat-wing doors and go running down the street screaming for help from the local sheriff. But no, she stood her ground on the little stage where she'd been singing most of the night and when they looked into her eyes, they didn't see any fear. In a voice as calm as the eye of a hurricane she said with her peculiar accented voice, "I don't know why they call you Spruce-Topper-Jack when just plain old Jack-Ass would be more appropriate."
Spruce-Topper-Jack looked a little stunned by her comment and rolled his eyes. "I gotta give yuh credit fer havin' the guts to stand up there all brazen like and insult the likes of me but yuh got shit for brains is plain to see. Now are we gonna go upstairs all purty and perfect an have us some fun or am I gunno have to come over thar an' pick yuh up like a gut-shot hog and carry yuh up dem flight of stairs?"
Kitty's stare was as cold as ice when she peered straight into Jack Malone's eyes. Determined not to back down, she spread her legs apart and standing akimbo she said, "I've climbed those stairs with many a man but you aint no man. I'd sooner have a frolic on my soft-feathered mattress with a grizzly bear than the likes of you." And on saying that, she turned her back on Jack Malone and looked out the window.
"Why yuh ugly bitch!" he bellowed. "I'll show yuh what kinda man I am!"
Not only could Kitty hear his big boots stomping across the sawdust covered floor, she could see his reflection in the window. And just as his huge hands were about to grab her, she drew her tiny one-shot Dillenger from within the folds of her shiny green satin gown and fired a bullet straight between his eyes.
The look of shock in Spruce-Topping-Jack Malone's eyes as he hit the floor is still talked about today. Princess Timber-Kitty forgot or had intentionally forgotten to mention that besides being a princess from a far away country and a highly educated woman, she was also a crack-shot with a pistol.
FACEBOOK COMMENTS:
Darla D: I liked this one, had me wondering what was going to happen in the end. I thought it was funny how she turned his name around, to Jack ass lol
Len Sherman Hi Darla - Good to hear from you - I'm glad you enjoyed the story.
Darla D: You do a great job...I think you should make a short story book so people can read them while they sit on the toilet. lol
Len Sherman: Hey - and if they don't like the stories, they can use it for toilet paper - hahaha
Like! You had me wanting to get to the next line to see what happened! Good one!
ReplyDelete