From West to East

From West to East
By Scott

























Chapter 1 - Sluggish Footsteps In the Woods

Mount Monsoon, Texas January 1870.
It was an odd occasion, Oscar Gonzalez was on his way to a saloon, and he was eager to drink to his heart's content. He had just finished a job, protecting some Stagecoach from robbers; it was transporting some precious jewels. He thought with the money he had just received he at least deserved a few shots of whiskey or maybe a few bottles of beer.

When he arrived in town, he hitched his horse outside the saloon. As the cowboy walked in, the saloon doors swung open, the cool air behind him sending a shiver up his spine. His boots scraped against the floor with agonizingly slow steps. His spurs made a gentle clink as he strolled up to the bar and ordered a cheap beer. Though he had a dislike of alcohol, he toughed it out to meet new people.

He loved meeting new people at the saloon, it gave him all kinds of connections for different jobs.

He scanned the room for someone to talk to his gaze settled on a stranger, and his eyes lit up at the opportunity in front of him. He cleared his throat before he decided to stroll up to the man. The stranger had brown hair and pale skin, green eyes, and a funny beard, his hair was short in the front and the back.

Oscar on the other hand contrasted against the stranger. He had black hair, brown- almost black eyes, brown skin, and eye bags, and yet they remained regardless of how much shut-eye he got long eyelashes and no facial hair. He was about five foot seven to five foot eight, he had an average build, his stomach was a little more pudgy than the average person, he had smaller hands than most men’s, and he had a somewhat feminine appearance due to the way his eyelashes curled upwards. The man was of Mexican origin with hair was long, reaching down to his waist with short bangs and two long pieces of hair on the side that framed his face. He wore a blue collared shirt with a black vest over it with a blue poncho around his neck, he wore jeans that were a bit too big on him, he carried a brown satchel, and wore a black and silver sombrero.
The stranger and he talked for a while, he learned his name was William and he was here on a job (though the man would not disclose the job). Oscar and the man discussed various topics before the shortened decided to move on to the next person.

The next person he approached was a man holding an entire bottle of whiskey. He had a thick accent, one he couldn’t quite place; he sounded like he was from Mon Père but Oscar didn’t dare ask him. The man said his name was Ronan- nothing more, nothing less. Ronan had dark skin and black hair that was tied in a ponytail, he had a maroon vest and a dirty white collared shirt on. He was taller than Oscar, the man towered over him and Oscar had to look up at him to talk to him. He and Ronan talked and talked about what it’s like in Stringsville and places worth visiting. Near the end of their conversation, Oscar spotted a lonely man at the bar, his face lit up. He wished Ronan a good night before skipping over to the solitary figure.

The man had a ridge-top hat with bullets lining his hatband. He was blonde, wearing a white collared shirt and a silver vest. Leather fingerless gloves and a black neckerchief tied in a sloppy bow. He had black rancher pants and boots adorned with silver spurs that completed his outfit. He had blue eyes and a chevron-type mustache. He had a fresh scar over his left eye, a soft shade of pink that almost blended into his pale skin. The man stood about six two, six one and was a white man with a tan.

Oscar admired the man. The man looked tired. He rolled right up, next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “What brings you here?” Oscar chirped with a friendly smile.

The man blinked at him in confusion and wiggled out of the embrace. He fiddled with the cup that was holding his whiskey before looking up at Oscar. He smiled in return and held eye contact with him. “Hmm?” He replied, clearly having noticed the man bouncing around, and prayed that the stranger wouldn’t approach him.

God wasn’t real.

He was also drunk out of his mind but he wouldn’t admit that.

He had heard the stranger perfectly fine but wanted to make him repeat himself to make sure he was being addressed. Despite the eye contact, he was hoping that Oscar would get bored and go away, evidently leaving him alone for the rest of the night.

Oscar maintained his friendly smile before repeating his question. “What brings you here?” He asked once again, hoping that the stranger would hear him this time. He bit his cheek before adding. “You seemed lonely, thought I’d join you.”

“Lonely” he repeated in a mocking tone, a chuckle followed after the word. He thought for a moment, his words slurring not a lot but just enough for someone to notice he was drunk. “Ah- I know the bartender.” He said as he pointed to the man who was pouring out a shot for a drunk. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t necessarily the truth. He had known the bartender by how many times he came here on his way to or from somewhere. The stranger thought for a second before asking the other a question. “You?”

Oscar guessed the stranger was a regular here, probably a local alcoholic. He sighed internally before speaking. “I met most of the crowd tonight.” He answered before continuing. “I already knew some of the people here, I ain’t ever been to this saloon before. I like it, it’s nice. I’m usually by the mountains, not here. I haven’t been to Stringsville in a long time. I think the last time I was in this town I was with my brother.” Oscar rambled on.

The stranger had processed about half of what Oscar had said, mindlessly nodding along with what he was talking about. “Right..” he mumbled. He took a swig of his drink and made a foul face at the taste of it. He called over the bartender and paid what he owed him for the night. “It is nice here.” He said, simply repeating what Oscar had just said. “How long are you around here for?” He asked, stretching his back a little and re-adjusting his elbow that was on the counter.

“As long as I’d like to be.” Oscar hummed out, patting the stranger on the back. The cowboy tensed at the touch, making it obvious he didn’t like how touchy Oscar was being.. “I’ve only been here for a few hours. I might leave tomorrow or the next day.” He rambled. “I like how quiet the streets of Stringsville are, no loud man telling you to repent for your sins, no woman yelling at you to donate to a cause I don’t care about.” He removed his hand from his back. “I honestly don’t want to leave.” He joked, chuckling softly but then realizing that the stranger held the same blank expression, and quickly stopped. “But seriously I might move to the next town soon.” Once he let go he sighed in relief and chuckled nervously. He placed his hand on his belt, standing up straight. He towered over Oscar, the height difference made him laugh internally. He continued to hold eye contact with him

“Traveler” he scoffed. “Enjoy your stay.” He said, nodding at Oscar. He was planning on some way to escape the conversation but with the way the man seemed to be, he wasn’t so sure he could. He leaned back against the bar, the position being more comfortable.

Oscar looked down at the bar and then up back at him. “How ‘bout I buy you a drink, hmm?” He offered, digging in his satchel for some cash. The stranger felt too much guilt letting people pay for him, especially considering the fact he'd had too many drinks as it was. He wanted to say yes but couldn't.

“Too kind. No worries.” He said, smiling politely. He scanned the man up and down, looking like he was checking, though he intended to examine him .”Thank you, though.” He made a desperate attempt to leave, “I should be on my way,” he leaned off of the bar island and tripped over himself, yet, catching himself and chuckling embarrassed-ly.

Oscar shoved the cash back into his satchel. “You’re in no condition to ride.” He laughed, “At least let me help you to your horse.” The man insisted, appearing at his side to help him not fall to the ground.

The man shoved him back, scoffing, no longer making eye contact with Oscar. “I’m fine. I’ll just walk. I’m right around the corner.” He lied.

Oscar shook his head. “And in those few seconds, someone could rob you. I know I would. I’m just saying… when people see a drunken man that can’t even stand up properly they’re most likely going to rob you.” He explained. “So let me walk you home.” The cowboy insisted once more.

The stranger felt more nervous than before. He isn't a good liar. “Ah. I ain’t drunk.” He lied between his teeth with his words slurring ever so slightly. He continued to drag his feet towards the exit of the saloon.

Oscar followed after him. “You’re not sober enough to walk home, cowpoke.” The nickname rolled off his tongue with ease. “Just let me help you.”

The man looked at Oscar and let out a loud sigh. He pushed his way out of the saloon and huffed. Once he was outside, Oscar at his side, he leaned against the saloon wall. He looked over at Oscar and chuckled. “Look.. uh.. whatever your name is. I’m sure you’ve got better stuff you could be doing than following some.. home” he was having a rough time getting a full sentence out. Could it be any more obvious he was lying about not being drunk? “Why are you so interested in me anyway?” He asked with a harsh tone.

Oscar was taken aback by the change in tone and sighed. “My name is Oscar” he responded. “And god forbid I want to make sure a drunk man gets back to wherever they’re staying in one piece. My brother taught me you should never let a drunk man out at night because he’s bound to get mugged.”

The man rolled his eyes, he started to notice how stubborn this man was. “Are you tryna do that to me?” He asked. “I don’t live ‘round here, it’s just an old camp, so scram.” He suddenly stiffened and gave Oscar a cold glare.

Oscar rolled his eyes at the man and scoffed. “You can keep your dollar.” He huffed. “I don’t need anything you have.”

The cowboy shrugged. “Never know.” He slurred as he started in the direction of his camp, stumbling along the path. He never brought his horse in the first place. His plan from the start was to get drunk. Well it wasn’t, but he knew this would be the outcome.

Oscar followed after him, humming a soft tune. “What’s your name stranger?” He asked with a laugh as he wrapped an arm around his shoulder to help stabilize the man.

He stiffened at the touch but was too exhausted to shove the arm away so he just let it happen. “Finn.” He blatantly said. He huffed as he looked down at his feet. “It’s a long walk.”

“It’s alright!” Oscar chirped, happy to finally know his name. “I’ve got all night anyways!” He said, gazing over at Finn.

Finn was too busy focusing on walking to notice him looking at him with such a gaze. He sighed and rubbed his neck nervously. “Do you seriously have nothing better to do? Like you said, it’s prime robbin’ time.”

“It’s almost one in the morning, the best thing I could be doing would be sleeping and like I said, I have enough money for now.” Oscar hummed in response.

“What's a man like you doin' all by himself roamin' around the country?” Finn chuckled, looking at his hands to make sure they were still there before returning to eye contact with the other man.

“I’ve always had a thing for traveling. It brings me happiness. I mean I was stuck in the same town for years. Once I finally left I became free… in a sense.” He hummed softly, looking up at the night sky. “Do you travel?” Oscar asked Finn. Finn smiled and then looked back down at his feet. He wonders why this man is so open to just telling him everything.

"Eh.. yeah." He says. "I guess." As if he doesn't do it for a living.

“Oh~ you aren’t lying now are you?” Oscar teased.

Finn's cheeks turned red with embarrassment. “You can uh.. head back now.” He said as he shifted out of Oscar’s grasp. “I can make it back from here.”

“Are you sure?” Oscar asked in a gentle voice with an expression of concern plastered on his face.

“I've been sober.” He scoffed. “Get some rest and head home, if you have one around here.” He said politely.

Oscar sighed with defeat and stepped back before spinning on his heel. “It was nice meeting ya, Finn” He hummed as he slowly started to walk away.

Finn smiled and watched the man begin off. He turned and started back to his camp, walking very unsteadily, but managing. After a while, Finn finally made it back to his camp. Except it was not a camp, it was like one small tent and a blanket in the middle of nowhere. He lay in his "bed" and fell asleep immediately.

Oscar on the other hand bought a room and a bath for the nearest hotel. He wanted to sleep in ‘luxury’ for the night.


The next morning Oscar needed to pick up a few more things for his adventures. The list was short, filled with random things that he shouldn’t even bother getting. He walked out of the inn and made a b-line for the general store. He made his way in and immediately started to scan the shelves for what he was looking for.

Finn woke up super hungover but didn't get the option to sleep in or relax. He sighed and stretched, looking around and placing his head in his hands. He got up slowly and walked towards his horse, Frankenstein. He climbed onto him and almost fell back asleep on the ride to the general.

Once there he tied Frankenstein outside and kissed the side of his head. “Good boy.” He smiled. He walked inside the store and browsed, noticing the same man from last night and getting nervous. That's embarrassing.

Oscar was grumbling under his breath, they were out of the one thing he needed; gun oil.

Finn quickly grabbed what he needed. He grabbed some food, just small things like apples and pears. He then grabbed some thread, he'd been meaning to sew up a piece of his clothes. Then he rushed to the cashier and tried to check out quickly but of course, he had to chat him up.

He huffed as he stood up straight, they were out of gun oil. He had everything (except for gun oil) he needed for now. He had a can or two of peaches and some bait for hunting. He strolled on over, noticing Finn was there as well. He smiled at the sight of him. He walked to the side of him and tilted his head, scanning his face. “Is that you? Is that Finn?” He asked.

Finn got extremely shy and looked down, avoiding eye contact. “Hey..... you.” He forgot his name.

Oscar chewed on the inside of his cheek. “You forgot my name.” He stated blatantly.

Finn smiled at him. “No, I did not.” He said, making eye contact with him. “Of course not.” he scoffed as he looked away from the other.

Oscar hummed in amusement. “Alright then, what is it?” He asked.

Finn smiled and chuckled. Unfair. He tried to change the subject, turning his attention back to Oscar “Funny running into you here, anyway,” he chuckled.

Oscar shook his head. “Come on, what’s my name?” He asked once more. “If you know it, you won’t avoid the question.”

Finn sighed, keeping eye contact as he rolled his eyes. “You got me.”He finally admitted, then continuing and giggling, “I remember your story though.”

Oscar hummed softly. “My name is Oscar.” He said. He looked away from Finn and looked at the cashier. He started to ask about the gun oil that he needed urgently. The cashier only told him that they were out of stock and that they wouldn't get another shipment until next week. Oscar paid for his stuff and sighed.

Finn's eyes lit up, he turned to Oscar and almost hummed himself, “Ah- well,” he huffed, he cleared his throat and looked down to his thumb which was rubbing the palm of his other hand. “I mean- if you need some I do suppose I have a favor to pay forward.”

Oscar smiled at the words. He wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “You would do that?”

He smiled and wiggled out of his grip. His voice softened. “I owe you.” He waved to the clerk as he walked outside, leading Oscar. He stuffed his food and other goods in Frankenstein's satchel, petting him and then reaching inside the other side, pulling out gun oil. He grabbed two and wrapped them in a small thread. Then he walked back to Oscar and handed it to him. “Here.”

Oscar smiled at the sight of the gun oil. “Thank you so much. You are truly a life savior.” He hummed, taking the oil and stuffing it into his satchel.

“Ah, it's nothin',” he chuckled. He unties Frankenstein and holds onto the rope, turning to look at Oscar. “I best be off then, got stuff to pick up for work.” He smiled, attempting an escape from this painfully awkward encounter.

Oscar nodded. “Me too.” He hummed, walking over to his horse, Bellbottom. He untied him and then climbed on. “It was nice meeting you.” He chirped softly.

Finn smiled, “You too, Oscar.” He nodded in response. “Hope to see you around.” In reality, the chances of seeing each other again were low. He was leaving back to his mom's tomorrow morning and then had several towns to hit to finish a job. He doubted he'd see him again. But he would admit the man was nice to meet. “Pretty horse.” He mentioned before climbing on his own. He smiled at Oscar one last time and nodded, "Better be gone." He stated before riding off.

Oscar waved Finn off as he started towards his brother's lodge. His brother, Cass, or Cassidy Mackin took him in when no one else would.

He liked Finn. He liked that he listened to him.. sorta. He thought it was funny that the man didn’t remember his name but remembered his life story. He also found him mysterious, in a way. If he ever met him again he’d probably interrogate him like hell.

Finn headed off to a couple more stops. He grabbed stuff for his guns and knives. He decided to head back to his mom's early since he had nothing better to do. And the ride was relatively long. His mom lived in Fenne. He began his ride, thinking about that Oscar guy. He was talkative, it was almost nice but he's not sure he could live past the interactions they've had so far. Maybe if Finn was just a little more confident he would be able to make real friendships.