"Well, not too bad," replied Cowboy as he was buttoning up his collar and adjusting his hat. A cool breeze had begun to pick up in their little desert town, and everyone was beginning to feel it. "Guess I'll have to watch what I kick, huh?" he said with a grin.
"Yeah, you be sure and nurse that foot a bit, ok?" Doc finished, continuing on the wooden sidewalk.
"You got it Doc." Cowboy opened the door to the weapon's smith and entered. As soon as he let the door slip out of his hand, a cool wind flung it back into the doorway, sending a cloud of dust into the shop.
"Boy, that winds're makin' thin's all going strange, ain't it?" Gunmaker asked in his half sensical manner.
"Yeah, you can say that again. I just came outta my room and practically froze myself half over just getting here." Cowboy said, looking out of the dust covered window. The wind had brought more dust and more tumbleweeds into their valley, causing the land to loosen, and roll with their brethren that the wind brought. He could see past the town limits to a small patch of earth over by a large grouping of sticks.
Gunmaker, noticing Cowboy's stare broke into his reverie. "Yeah, was shame bein' that happened what, nobody none fault you for it, knowin' everybody said had to be done." He noticed that Cowboy's attention hadn't drifted so he continued. "So what shall I doing gettin' for you this now?"
"Well... I need a bullet." Cowboy said, turning around slowly.
"Bullet? Just needin' be of one?"
"Yeah, just one."
"Um.. just for one? Not gonna horse to make dead're you?" Gunmaker asked, a bit puzzled by Cowboy's request."Nah, you'd know I'd give her away before I shot her." Cowboy smiled slightly.
"Well, iffin' you want to say just one, one you can just have. What'll kind needing though?"
"Make it a nice one," Cowboy said, mulling over the question. "I think I need a smaller one, something.. something small." Cowboy said smiling, never really having been one to be able to put things to words easily.
"Ah, I gots one to think that'd be very perfect for you!" Gunmaker replied, visibly happier. He quickly went into the back room of his store and returned with a small blue box. "I specially got this one recently yet! 'Spensive right, but nice!" He opened the box and pulled out the bullet, examining it in his store's dusty light.
"Hm.. lemme see, will ya?" Cowboy leaned over the counter to get a closer look.
"Here, careful got to be this one here." Gunmaker carefully placed it in Cowboy's open palm.
"Hm, give 'em credit, this surely is a beauty. So how much's it?"
"One there be bein' two dollars."/p>
Cowboy blinked. "Two bucks? For one bullet?" He asked in half disbelief.
"Yeah! Knewed it was steep, but you be lookin' for a special bullet says like you are, that's a nice one."
"You know," Cowboy started wistfully, "I've never really looked a bullet my whole life. Sure, bought hunnerds of the things, but never really stopped to see one. This is the prettiest bullet I've ever seen in my whole life.." Cowboy paused, turning it over in his hands. "I'll take it."
"Ah! Good! Hold on and ringing it up I will!" Gunmaker hurried to the register and rang up the total. "Being two dollars and one cents please."
"One cent? How do you figure?"
Gunmaker looked sheepishly. "New stupid taxing on bullet or something."
"Eh, alright." Cowboy counted out two dollars in quarters, and added the single penny to the pile of change on the counter. "Thanks," he said. "You take care of yourself, ok?"
"You will betcha I will!" Gunmaker said happily. He watched Cowboy walk slowly out the door. Then towards the end of town, to the mound of dirt and the pile of sticks. Seeing Cowboy stay there for a few minutes, Gunmaker's attention wandered until it found a small bug on his counter making it's way across to the edge.
Cowboy found himself standing at the end of the mound of dirt. He felt a certain relief. He couldn't explain it, and he wouldn't try. Not to himself. He lowered the brim of his hat till it met his eyes, keeping the twilight sun from them. "Well, I guess it's been a year. You were right I suppose. I did need you. Now look at me. I look old, I feel old. Not even yet twenty three, but I'm old. People look at me funny, remembering how I was young. Just a year ago, I was young. Not sure how much wisdom I've gotten from all this, but it's enough."
He turned his head towards the empty desert, mulling over his thoughts. "I know," he began. "I know now that you were right. I hope you can still forgive me. I'm sorry for what I've done. You don't know how sorry. I know I have to make amends, too. This ain't gonna be one of them 'I'm sorry, forgive me now' sorta deals, I know."
Cowboy pulled the bullet out of his pocket, carefully loading it into his gun. "I knows what has to be done, and I'm gonna do it. I'll be darned if people think I gots any regrets though, I know what I'm doin' and I'm happy about it! Won't have people thinkin' I'm weak either. This is penance, I know that. It's somethin' that has to be done. I hope you can forgive me.. please, please forgive me." Cowboy slowly pulled the gun up to his chest, placing the barrel end at his heart, and pulled the trigger.
Gunmaker heard the shot, and raced to his window in time to see Cowboy fall over the dirt mound.