From The Past

Short fiction story

The night felt warm but comfortable and the crickets sang their usual tunes. The stars above seemed extremely bright for this time of year but they lit up the road nicely. I hummed one of my favorite songs as we walked along. One that I know Betsy likes too.

“It’s a beautiful night tonight, isn’t it girl?” I patted the side of her neck.

Betsy whinnied and bounced her head up and down. She is one smart horse indeed, I thought.

Now, Betsy and I have been on this journey together many times before and had never seen what we saw this time. While we were minding our own business and enjoying the night, something very strange happened. I suddenly heard some hootin and hollerin along with gunshots but didn’t see anyone. Not until moments later when they all appeared in front of us. Betsy of course was startled so I had to calm her down. Once I soothed Betsy’s fear we just stood and watched.

There they were, four of them. Cowboys from way back. I only knew that because I recognized one of them from a 1840’s photo I had seen. The leader of this group was Bad Bart. And his reputation was not a good one by any means. The weird thing was that they were sort of transparent. That can mean only one thing.

So, Betsy and I stood as quiet as possible. I had hoped that they wouldn’t bother us and be on their way. But, that hope diminished when Bad Bart, on his glowing white stallion trotted up to us. His horse stood much taller then Betsy and expelled hot air down into her face. I held Betsy’s reigns tight because I could feel her tremble.

“It’s okay girl,” I said.

We both froze and I stared at Bart. What was he going to do, I thought. They are ghosts though so what can they do, I wondered.

The other three cowboys from the group galloped around and shot off a couple of bullets from their guns. But Bart sat tall in his saddle and looked directly at me. I trembled with fear and wanted to run, but I stayed and stood my ground so to speak. I looked upon his glowing bearded face but he had no eyes. There were only dark holes where his eyes once were. Did that show the true nature of his soul, I wondered. Suddenly Betsy moved her front legs. I knew that she felt uncomfortable and wanted to leave. I patted her neck again and told her that it’s okay.

This unusual event felt like a long time because of the fear but they were only about five minutes. Bart didn’t do anything thank goodness except stare at me before he yelled let’s ride. Betsy was startled again when Bart’s stallion turned, but she also handled herself very well. After Bart yelled though, the three others rode ahead and then disappeared. When Bart left me and Betsy, he shot one round from his gun into the air. Betsy and I jumped but then watched as he soon disappeared into the night. It was almost like how fog lifts and dissipates. Only it was a man on a horse.

“You did real good girl,” I said to Betsy and gave her a couple of neck rubs.

From that time on, we never saw Bad Bart or his group again. Sometimes I wonder why he showed up on that night. Could it had been that I was feeling a bit lonely, I wondered. Let’s just say that from then on, being with Betsy on those journey’s was all the company that I needed. I didn’t care to be visited again by cowboy ghosts from the past.

The End

This story was prompted by a fellow writer on Wordpress. Each Thursday he posts pictures to create a story from. I thought that I would share this with you because he writes some wonderful stories and poetry. His site is, The Beginning At Last