Shackles

Sensitive Content Warning: Violence and Mentions of Prostitution

The morning was early when a small group of boys cautiously exited the shadows and hiding spots where they slept for the night. They were wary of capture since several homeless children have been seen dragged away by force. They came together and gathered around the large iron gate of Gazette Hall waiting for the morning paper to be released. However, as the five o'clock bell rang out, out came a group of girls carrying their newspapers. The boys stood confused as the young women attempted to navigate the crowd on their bikes.

"They're stealing our routes!" One boy realized. The rest quickly chased after the girls and knocked them off their bikes. The boys liberated the morning paper from the fairer sex and began to fight one another over the routes. Amidst the chaos, a Minister and a line of police marched onto the boy's squabble. The police began beating and dispersing the crowd, while the minister was taking note of the children's distinct facial characteristics. 

The children all fled the scene, or as many as they could. Shiloh was among them, and he ducked into an alleyway to catch his breath. He was soon joined by his friends Frank and Paul. 

"The Father was taking notes of our faces, I think he might hunt us down!" Paul panicked.

"Yeah, he got my face, too." Shiloh confided.

"Gazette Hall had to plan this, they already handed our routes off to the girls," Frank joined the conversation.

"How the crowd treated those girls," Shiloh panted, "was not okay. Anyone who does that again on my watch gets it, you hear?"

Shiloh's friends agreed and once the coast was clear, the trio made their way to the docks. They sat on the docks for a while for a cruiser to come in with some wealthy passengers. The boys reenacted the act like they have done so many times before. Paul would pick a target and mark them with a wad of mud. Frank would then offer to carry their bags for them and demand to be paid. The victim would begin scalding Frank for his con while Shiloh and Paul picked their pockets. Frank would run away, and the policeman who worked the dock would give chase.

Shiloh and Paul divided the stolen loot three ways, and Shiloh agreed to deliver Frank's cut to him. Unfortunately, Frank would never receive his pay because Shiloh ran into the fearsome Minister on an errand.

"Boy, I've seen you before! Say, weren't you a part of the Gazette Hall riot earlier?" Shiloh turned away from the Minister's interrogation only to slam into the wide body of a policeman. "I concur it was you I saw! Now son, this doesn't need to be difficult. How would you like to have a family of your own again?"

"No offense, Father, but I got my friends and that's plenty for me!" 

"Listen, you either come with me or you go with the policeman. The choice is yours," The Father demanded. Shiloh saw that he was fixed and obliged the Minister. "What's your name, boy?" 

"Shiloh, sir." 

A week later, Shiloh found himself on a train headed to New Mexico on his lonesome. The Minister had a grand band of children that he escorted from town to town. The children would be put up on a stage and ordered to dance. Prospective parents would prod and pull on their hair, teeth, and arms examining them as if they were slaves. Shiloh always made sure that he made his examiners miserable by biting and kicking anyone who invaded his personal space. The Father didn't know what to do with the wild child, so he opted to send the boy out to an equally wild west.

After five days, Shiloh felt the train begin to slow down and heard murmurs around the cabin. He knew that a missionary was waiting for him, and he cared not to be a slave to God. So, he opened the cab door and jumped car to car until he reached the caboose. When he entered, he saw a group of Union Soldiers playing cards. The leader of the group began to reach out for Shiloh but lacked the proper speed. Shiloh ducked and evaded the soldiers trying to stop him from his dangerous intent. By the end of it, Shiloh jumped off and rolled onto the desert floor.

The initial lift off was easy, but the landing proved to be extremely hazardous. He landed on his legs and felt one slip under the other. Shiloh could hear the crack that sent a thousand bolts of pain throughout his body. He lay down on his back and felt his leg. His hand shook with anticipation for the pain to some as he examined his legs. He sat up straight and struggled to unbuckle his pants. His left leg was covered in deep bruises but did not appear broken. Granted, Shiloh has never seen a bone broken before to compare his leg with. 

He turned around and could not see the orphan train and tried his best to stand up. His injuries proved to be too disabling and so he came crashing down onto the desert floor again. He felt exhausted and tired, so he allowed himself to fall asleep. When he awoke, it was night, and he could hear voices in the distance. It was a mirage, or it was true, but he swore he saw a pirate ship sail across the hot rocky ground! He crawled himself after the great vessel, but once more became too exhausted. He laid his head on the ground, but soon raised it up in a panic as a small crab advanced towards him, with a tail topped with a stinger ready to attack. 

He crawled as fast as he could when he came across a white piece of wood. He leant the stick against a tall cactus and pulled himself up. He struggled to retain his balance with the stick, but he hobbled as fast away from the strange crab as he could. He soon saw more crabs gathering and gave chase. He grew afraid and screamed for help. He didn't even care if he was captured and put on another train, he wanted to be free of this hell!

Someone must have heard him, for a large Black man riding a mule shouted at him; "What in hell are you on about boy?!"

"Help, the crabs, they're after me!"

"Crabs? There aren’t no crabs in New Mexico! This here is a desert, and there are scorpions!"

"Scorpions?!"

"Deadly buggers at that. Here, come over so I can see you better." The traveler asked Shiloh. Shiloh hobbled towards the man who helped him up onto the mule.

"So, tell me white boy, how did you get all the way out here with that busted leg? We're two days out of Beckett!"

"I jumped off a train."

"Why would you do a foolish thing like that?"

"I don't have any folks to raise me, so they put me on a train to go be someone's servant. I got tired of being humiliated and show-horsed around, so I made a run for it."

"How'd that work out for you?" 

"I'm free, aren't I?"

"Son, the first thing you need to know about this arid land is there is no such thing as freedom. There's lawlessness and the wilderness. You either kill or be killed."

"I don't see the world as polarized as that."

"How old are you, boy?"

"Fifteen, I was born in 1853."

"So, you saw what the war was like then?"

"No, sir, I grew up in Maine. There wasn't much conflict of skin color up there. Mostly French-British tensions. I moved down to New York to live with my uncle when my parents died, only he was dead too."

"I see. What killed them?"

"My father fell into a frozen river while mining ice, and my mother died of phenomena."

"My condolences, son."

"I'm Shiloh, by the way, what's your name?"

"Gary Shackles. Now listen here, I'll let you take the mule into town on your own. I have business there that you don't want to be associated with, you hear?"

"Yes, Mr. Shackles. Thank you for your help."

"The only thanks I need is a promise you won't jump out of trains anymore!" 

As Shiloh rode into town, many people walking by would glare at him. He did not care for the undeserved hostility for he sought the town's doctor for his leg. When he arrived at the hitching post, he attempted to walk but fell from the pain, spooking the mule who ran away. "Doctor!" The teenager screamed.

"You're lucky you didn't break your leg," the doctor informed him some hours later. You sprained your left ankle, and your left leg is severely bruised, but the good news is it'll only take a few weeks to heal. How'd you manage to do it?"

"My mule bucked me off." 

"A mule, ha! I suppose it's the same mule that ran away from you at the hitching post?"

"It's a gift from my father," Shiloh lied, "he thinks taming that beast will make me a stronger man."

"It shouldn't be that hard, it is a mule we're talking about!" The doctor joked in a condescending tone. "Tell you what, I'll refer you to the Gentlemen's Club down by the railroad. The girls there will fix you up some whisky for the pain and a cheap room. I'm guessing you don't have much money considering those clothes you have on."

"I don't have any money."

"All the same, those women have always been most charitable. They'll take good care of you!" With that, the Doctor called for the undertaker to bring his wagon around and they drove Shiloh down to the railroad. 

For a moment, Shiloh was worried that the orphan train would come by, but he was soon too tired to pay any mind. When Shiloh awoke, he found himself in a small, cramped room. Red curtains swayed as fresh morning air danced in the window, and there were stacks of fancy dresses and lingerie all around. Shiloh attempted to stand up from his small cot when his ankle sent him falling into the pile of clothes. Although it was a safe landing, the thud of his body slamming into the wooden floor attracted the attention of a young lady. 

"You need your rest, young Master!" The girl exclaimed.

"Where am I?"

"You're at the Bentley Gentlemen's Club."

"So, you're a prostitute? You're no older than me!"

"We women of this club are highly respected members of our community! Many of the women of this house provide the funds for the Doctor and Undertaker to operate without charging their clients!" She snapped. 

"I apologize, I meant no offense." 

"But you did!" The girl said as she ran away crying.

"Now why'd you upset the girl?" An elderly man said as he stepped into the room. The elderly man lifted Shiloh up and carried him down to the lobby where several gunmen stood waiting.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" The elderly man inquired.

"We're here to ask the boy a few questions. First being, that mule that bucked you doesn't belong to you. It belongs to a wanted murderer!"

"Sir, I became injured out in the desert and a Black man sold me the mule to take me back to town," Shiloh lied once more.

"Did this Black man go by the name of Shackles?"

"I don't know, he never told me his name."

"Well, considering your injuries I'll leave you be for the time being, but if I suspect any further association with Shackles, you'll find yourself in a pair!" The lead interrogator smirked as he kissed his favorite mistress goodbye. The lawmen left and the girl Shiloh accidentally spooked brought him breakfast.

"So," the elderly man said, "I see you're a real troublemaker. An orphan train came through town earlier and mentioned that a boy your size and age jumped out of the cab!"

"Sir, please don't send me back!" 

"Then you better be honest with me, what is your true association with Shackles?"

"Nothing, he honestly leant me his mule," Shiloh spoke honestly finally!

"Well, you best mind him. He was a dangerous abolitionist during the war, and he's been going town to town attacking our veterans."

I minded the elderly man's words with little respect and just as I opened my mouth to speak my mind, I felt a scorching hot liquid pour down my injured leg! "Dammit, Rachel!" The elderly man yelled at the young woman who served me breakfast and tea. 

"Hey!" I protested, "It was an accident so how about you calm down old timer! You're going to give yourself apoplexy!" The elderly man stormed out of the building muttering all sorts of profanity.

"Now look at what you've done! He's going to kick you out now!" 

"I don't care what he does, no one needs to be crying over spilt milk!"

"Spilt tea," she said as she patted my pants dry with her handkerchief.

"I don't like how he was talking about Gary, or the lawmen either."

"Gary?" 

"Gary Shackles. I'm telling you now, that man saved my life. I was about to be killed by scorpions when he saved me!"

Rachel held back a chuckle, "You needed saving from scorpions? Then you truly need help if you're going to survive out here in the west! Do you even know how to use a gun?"

"No, and I don't want to know how, either. I'm not a violent man."

"You're a man?" She teased, "Not yet you're not. Don't worry, I'm sure a helpless little girl like me can show you a thing or two!"

Shiloh eventually apologized to the elderly pimp and continued to heal his leg over a series of weeks. In the time that passed, Rachel and Shiloh grew close together and began to court one another. In the morning, Shiloh would teach Rachel to read, and, in the afternoon, Rachel would teach Shiloh how to shoot. They both proved to be fast learners and fast lovers.

There was still plenty of paranoia in regard to Shackles amongst the local law enforcement and the mayor. Shiloh learnt of how the mayor has been overtaxing the people and organizing militias to attack and target the native population. Shackles made himself known through the occasional terrorist attack that often humiliated the Sheriff and his deputy. Shiloh, too, grew a desire to join such an effort for the betterment of both the natives and settlers.

Such an opportunity did come when Shackles was captured finally! The entire town crowded the street and many a fool heckled and taunted the defeated warrior.

Among many racial motivated insults, the town was well expressed in their praise for the rise of Jim Crow. Men in white pointed hoods arrived and began throwing stones and whipping the back of Shackles as he was dragged through the streets. Shiloh had seen enough and fired into the crowd of Klansmen. He emptied his entire revolver's spool and killed nine. The sheriff tackled him, placed him into chains, and dragged him along with Shackles to the local prison. When Shiloh awoke from his abuse, he was locked in a cell with an extremely injured Shackles. 

"Gary, can you hear me?" Shiloh held Gary's bleeding head in his lap.

"Boy, run free of this cursed place! Find my son in Santa Fe and tell him what we have done. He will be proud! In my pocket, you will find two certificates. They are mining claims I've taken out in the name of Shackles. You're welcome to my claim but see to it my son gets his. No matter what, Shiloh, promise me this; Do not seek revenge alone." Shiloh pulled the papers out of Gary's pockets and confirmed their authenticity. "Thank you for your help, my son. Live a good life for me, Shiloh Shackles," Gary adopted Shiloh.

Shiloh wept as he shut Gary's eyes to rest and felt him pass on. The sheriff came in the cell an hour or so later and dragged the corpse out to be lynched. Shiloh watched the lynching from the cell window, feeling a sickening rage boil inside. 

"Shiloh, hurry!" Rachel said as she unlocked Shiloh's cell. 

"How did you get those?!"

"Shackles has been causing all sorts of chaos in the town, and many of the townspeople tired of the racism have joined his cause. They want you to be the Sheriff!"

"What about the current Sheriff?"

"They want him gone. He wasn't elected, he was chosen by the mayor who was a slave trader well into the Confederacy!"

"I can't fight them alone; I promised Shackles that much. Shackles had a son, he said he lived in Santa Fe!"

"Damion Shackles, he's a veteran of the war. I've served him a few times at the Club. He is a kind and gentle man."

"A merciful man is what I need, for without him I will have no restraint against these murderers!" 

"I will send a telegram, but you must kay low!"

"Where will I go?"

"Go with the Tribe, they will keep you safe. They are my people; they will welcome you if I tell them to."

It took Damion three days to arrive and join the ultimate battle of the civil war. By the end, over seventy souls were lost. The people elected Rachel as their first female mayor, and Damion and Shiloh Shackles as their Sheriff and Deputy. Rachel organized a city council consisting of the Undertaker, Doctor, the Bartender, and a Reverend who came to help bury the dead. As for the mining claims, the Shackles buried it with their father.