“You should’ve fought Charlie Blanche.” All of a sudden, she had no difficulty meeting his gaze.
“Wha—are you putting me on?”
“We don’t know if your sheep grazed on his ranch,” she said. “It could’ve been Hurley’s cows. He should have to prove it, and he can’t. So, I dunno … You should’ve fought him.”
“Oh, my God, you’re serious.”
She nodded.
“Louise,” he sputtered, “the guy’s one of the best shots in the whole town! I mean, I look like I have Parkinson’s next to him.”
“What’s Parkinson’s?”
“Oh, just another way God mysteriously shows that he loves us. Look, I tried to psych myself up for the gunfight, but at the end of the day I’d rather not commit fucking suicide.”
And then, from out of nowhere, lightning struck. “Albert … I’m breaking up with you.”
When a parent, a sibling, or a close friend dies suddenly, the mind has an uncanny ability to process the news as a mistake, or fiction, or at worst a temporary reality that will surely correct itself in short order. The same sort of self-defense mechanism was activating within Albert’s mind right now.
“Wh … what?”
“I’m sorry.” She gave him a loving look, but it was all wrong. It took him a moment to realize it wasn’t love he was seeing but rather sympathy. The look was one you might give a hospital patient before you told him the doctors were unable to save his balls.
Albert opened his mouth to speak, and what came out was, “I got shot today.”
“I know,” she answered.
Clearly she didn’t hear what I said, he thought.
“Ow,” he uttered, hoping that would drive the point home.
“I’m sorry you’re hurt,” she said, though to Albert she didn’t sound sorry enough.
His mental gears were now restarting their grind, and he began to process exactly what was happening. He was being dumped. “Louise, I—why? Because of a gunfight?”
“No, it’s not that. I mean, I guess maybe it gave me the little push I needed to finally come out and tell you—”
“Finally? What do you mean, finally? How long have you been planning this?!”
“God, you make it sound so malicious. I didn’t plan this, Albert. But … I have been feeling this way for a while. It’s … Look, you’re a really great guy. I’ve just … I’ve realized I want something else.”
The punches just kept on coming. Albert felt like he might throw up, and he hoped the words would beat the vomit to his mouth. “Louise, I love you! What else could you want? You’re my whole life! I’ve done everything for you for the past year and a half! Look, I know I’m only a sheep farmer, but I’m saving money, and as soon as—”
“Yeah, but you’re not even a good sheep farmer, Albert,” she interrupted. The sympathy in her expression was gone, and it seemed she was now beginning to offer her uncensored point of view. “I mean, your sheep are everywhere. The one thing a sheep farmer has to do is keep all his sheep in one place. I stopped by your farm the other day, and there was a sheep in the backyard, three way up on the ridge, two in the pond, and one on the roof.”
“That’s Bridget—she has a problem with retardation, but she’s full of love. Look, I think we’re getting off-track here,” Albert said, desperation taking over his tone. “Louise, if it’s not about the gunfight, tell me what it is! Tell me what the problem is, and maybe we can fix it!”
“Albert, you’re a good guy, for sure,” she responded, her voice softening once again to counter the sting of what she was about to say. “You’re … not good for me. I don’t wanna date anybody right now. I kinda have to deal with my own shit.”
“Shit? What shit? We live in a frontier town in the middle of the goddamn desert! There isn’t enough shit around for you to have any shit to deal with! My God, Louise, it’s been a year and a half! We talked about getting married!”
“Listen, if I was older, maybe the timing would be right, but I don’t wanna settle down yet. People are living to be 35 these days, so a girl doesn’t have to get married right away. I sorta have to work on myself right now.”
That was too much for Albert. “I have to work on myself?” he exclaimed. “Louise, that’s what girls say when they have a good thing staring them in the face and they’re too up their own ass to know what to do with it. I know you. You’re not up your own ass. You’re out here. Outside your ass. Where I can see you. And … you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”