Rattler. Barry Andrew Chambers

Buck’s elbow had slid over to the McMahon half of the bar. Any neutral stranger who could sit where he wanted, would have gently nudged the elbow away to give himself room. But a neutral person did not show up.

      Around noon, Buck was snoring loudly as his body listed to the right, into McMahon territory. Two McMahons, Asa and Creighton, came through the swinging doors. They’d been to town to buy feed. When they saw the slumbering Buck leaning on their side of the bar, their tempers were pricked.

      “Lookee here, Creighton. We’ve got ourselves a trespasser.” Sam came in from the back, polishing a glass. His face went white when he took in the situation. He held his hands up at the two McMahons.

      “Now wait a minute fellas. I don’t want any trouble. Buck here fell asleep. He didn’t mean no harm.” Sam made a move to pull Buck back over to the Spurlock side of the counter.

      “Leave him be,” growled Asa. “This piece of Spurlock cow patty needs a lesson in geography.” Asa’s leg reared back to kick the stool out from under Buck. At that moment, a voice came from the bar’s entrance.

      “Better not, lessin’ you intend to take us all on.”

      Standing in the doorway were Elmer and Keenan Spurlock and their cousin, Odie. They had come to town to look for Buck since he had not come home the night before. The three men came through the wide swinging doors, shoulder to shoulder.

      Asa, who was the biggest man in the room, withdrew his foot and met Elmer halfway.

      “Look at him!” shouted Asa. “He’s on our side of the bar!”

      Creighton joined his brother. “He ain’t got no right to be lying on our counter, droolin’ all over it.”

      Sam was in a quandary. He stood there like a statue, trying to figure out what to do. The sheriff was out of town. That meant that Deputy Lawson was in charge. And if things hung true to form, when the sheriff was out of town, Deputy Lawson was most likely up at Beggerman’s Creek, fishing. Sam calculated the possible damage and decided on a plan that would save money.

      “Drinks are on the house,” squeaked Sam, “if you men promise not to squabble.” All five men turned their heads to Sam. Buck mumbled something in his peaceful bliss. Creighton licked his lips and rubbed his chin. Free drinks. It was a powerful argument against fighting. Elmer took off his hat and fanned his face. Asa had a tense smile on his face.

      “Well…maybe we could see our way to let you slide on this one. But you’d better remove that Spurlock from our spot.” Odie and Keenan looked at each other and nodded. They warily walked past Asa and Creighton and went over to Buck. Keenan tapped Buck on the shoulder.

      “Buck. Time to get up,” he said softly.

      Buck mumbled again and started to move away from Keenan, which put him farther on the McMahon side. Quickly, Keenan and Odie pulled Buck over to their end of the bar. “Come on Buck, wake up.”

      Buck opened one eye and spoke in a husky voice, “What are you doing here Keenie?”

      With shaking hands, Sam poured whiskey into a glass. The light brown liquid corkscrewed out of the bottle into the tumbler. Keenan took it and held it in front of Buck’s opened eye.

      “Free whiskey, Buck.”

      With that, Buck opened his other eye. “Is it Christmas?” he asked.

      “No, free whiskey,” said Odie.

      Buck snatched the glass and took it in one gulp. At that, the Spurlocks and McMahons took their respective sides of the bar as Sam poured glass after glass.

      Within half an hour, the piano player showed up and began playing a rousing medley of bawdy songs. The bar was filling up with regular clientele. Katie, the hostess, entered from her upstairs parlor and filtered in and out among the customers. Every Spurlock and McMahon in the place was drunk.

      Just as the church bells chimed one o’clock, more Spurlocks and McMahons showed up, looking for their brothers who had not returned from town.

      Buddy McMahon, a hot tempered man known for his knee-jerk reactions, was told by a drunk Asa about Buck Spurlock’s “crossing the line”.

      “I’m going to beat Buck to a pulp,” threatened Buddy. “We can’t let them hornswoggle us.”

      Asa tried to hold Buddy back. “Wait…wait…we got free drinks.”

      Thinking he had diverted disaster, Sam had started charging for drinks after the feuding families had gotten drunk. This made a very sober Buddy McMahon extra angry.

      “Free drinks, huh? I’ll get my own free drink.” Truth be known, Buddy was more upset that his brothers got free drinks than of Buck Spurlock’s indiscretion. He brushed off the drunk Asa and walked over into Spurlock Territory. He stopped at a table where Elmer and his brothers were playing poker. Before anyone knew it, Buddy grabbed the whiskey bottle off the table and took two generous gulps.

      The piano player took his hands off the keyboard. Katie, the hostess, stopped in mid-giggle at Odie’s dirty joke about a nearsighted donkey. The whole place was suddenly a tomb.

      Buddy slammed the bottle back down on the table and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Even the liquor tastes rancid on this side of the room,” he declared.

      Elmer glowered at him. Buck, who was snoozing over in the corner, woke up and looked around. “Wha’s matter?” he slurred.

      Sam sighed. He pulled out the ledger that was used for recording damages. He licked the lead tip of his pencil and held it poised over the DAMAGE column.

      Buddy folded his arms and stood there, challenging everyone at the table. Eight Spurlocks locked eyes on seven McMahons.

      Outside The Blue Hog, Minnie Haskell and her twelve-year-old daughter, Nina, were passing by. They heard the explosion of wood on wood. They stopped short of the swinging doors. It probably saved their lives as a forty pound keg of beer flew out, missing them by inches.

      “My lands!” shrieked Minnie. Shouts and cursing mixed with banging and crashing assaulted the woman’s ears.

      “Look, Ma!” cried Nina. Nineteen-year-old Herbie Spurlock crashed through the window and rolled out onto the street. His face, arms and legs were scratched as he lay stunned.

      Nina waved. “Hi Herbie!”

      “It’s those Spurlocks and McMahons,” said Minnie. “Let’s go dear.” She pulled her reluctant daughter away from the roiling Blue Hog.

      Katie ran out with her dress torn down the front. “They’re killing each other!”

      A curious crowd was gathering in front of the noisy bar. Reverend Madison, Bible in hand, started toward the swinging doors. “This is unseemly,” he said. “I will play the role of peacemaker.”

      Katie put both her hands on the Reverend’s shoulders. “It’s the McMahons and Spurlocks!”

      Without hesitating, Reverend Madison turned and headed up the street. “I’ll be in my office,” he muttered over his shoulder.

      A chair with one leg missing was thrown out the door, followed by Buddy, who was pushing Keenan and Buck. They fell into a tangle of arms and legs. In the confusion, Keenan kicked his brother Buck in the face, leaving a dusty print of his boot. Buddy hammered Keenan in his left eye, accompanied by colorful insults regarding his family.

      Trudy ‘O Dell held her hands over her ten-year-old son’s ears.

      A loud clang echoed from inside. Still holding the ledger and pencil Sam the bartender backpedaled out of the swinging doors and hit a support beam. “Oof!” He fell on his butt and groaned. He put his hand to the bump that was swelling on his forehead and scrawled out something with the pencil. “That’s one bent spittoon”—he looked down at his torn apron—“and one work vest.”

      A spine chilling shatter of glass erupted from The Blue