Cry Little Sister

Charlene Prince-Howard was a twenty-something blonde-haired beauty. She was long, tall, slender, and a hell of a worker. Especially since her older brother, Charlie, left the family for Ben Wade’s band of outlaws. That still wasn’t enough for Charlene’s parents. For when John Howard came calling, the money exchanged hands and Charlene was shoved into a life of hell.

Howard had simply taken Charlene to cook his meals, clean his house, work on the small good-for-nothing ranch, and take care of his eleven year old son, Ethan. When she didn’t do it when or how he wanted it, she got a beating. Sometimes the young woman wanted her brother to come back and shoot Howard right between the eyes. There’d always been something off with her brother, Charlie, something different and unnerving. Like the way he’d shoot a dying cow, it seemed to make him happy. But despite his disturbing personality he always made sure his younger sister stayed out of harm’s way. But Charlene was on her own.

“Charlene!” John barked, barging through the door. “I don’t smell my supper cookin’!”

His ‘wife’ and son had been seated at the table, her helping him with his school work. Now that sat there, looking up at him, tensed.

“Its gone cold, John. You’re late,” Charlene said sharply. She could almost smell the alcohol on his breath from where she was.

“Well, reheat it!” he commanded and spat on the floor.

“You do it!” Charlene snapped, shooting up from her seat.

As big and lumbering as Howard was, he was fast even when drunk. His fist shot out and slammed into the side of her face. “Don’t back sass, you worthless bitch ” he bellowed as Charlene hit the floor. Stars sparked in front of her eyes and hot tears threatened to spill over, but she held them in. She cried in front of no man

Ethan stared down at her wide eyed. “Mama?” She looked up at his terrified face. So innocent and lost in the horrifying world of his father’s shadow. This was the only reason she stayed around. Charlene reluctantly got to her feet and started the stove. John sat down at the table, waiting for his food, like the worthless mutt he was.

--

The next morning was cool and nice breeze blew over the dry land and down to the small valley where the fall-apart shack nestled down. The sky matched the color of Charlene’s calico dress. The whole right side of her face was black and blue. She finished pumping water and hauled the bucket for their one lonely horse to the barn. The old building was in the same poor shape the house was in. Charlene couldn’t figure out how it stayed up when the wind was strong. She poured the cool water into the trough and stood there, watching the peaceful animal drink. She longed to grab Ethan and gallop away somewhere safe. She’d tried before, but had returned only for Ethan, knowing the little boy couldn’t survive on his own. Then, she’d gotten one of the worst beatings ever.

There was a sudden nicker of another horse outside, making Charlene’s eyebrows knit together. She walked to the back wall and peeked through the cracks, slits of sunlight hitting her face. There was a sorrel horse standing there, saddled and lathered in sweat. She quickly backed up, but a gloved hand covered her mouth, stifling her scream. An arm wrapped around her waist, pinning her arms to her side. Panicking, she kicked and yelled, hoping for once, John would come.

“Shhh. Its alright,” the man cooed in her ear. She could feel his scruffy beard up against her cheek. “You’ve turned into quite a pretty thing, haven’t you?”

Charlene’s eyes widened as the voice reawakened a memory, a memory of childhood, of happiness, and betrayal. The arm released her as she stopped struggling. Charlene whirled around on him, faster than a rattler, skirts twirling around her feet.

“Charlie.”

It wasn’t a question to ask of his identity, it wasn’t in surprise of seeing her long-lost brother. There was venom in her voice, she declaring her enemy. An accusation.

Charlie Prince recognized that face of her’s immediately, and put his hands up in defense. “Now, Char. Don’t go doin’ somethin’ stupid, al’ight? We’re all family here.”

Charlene gritted her teeth and took a long hard look at him. “Speak for yourself.” He was the same as ever, long arms, long legs, long body. His filthy face and beard were shadowed by a black wide brimmed hat. But he was wilder, she could see it in his blue eyes. Her own blue eyes flashed angrily to the guns on his hips. How many men had he killed? “Get out!” she snapped.

“Now listen, sister–”

“Get out!” she screamed, grabbing the pitchfork leaning on the wall. In a blink, there was a pistol in Charlie’s hand, aimed at her. They stood there, glaring at each other for several seconds, dust flying around them into the sun light.

“You’d pull a gun on your own sister?” Charlene sneered, standing in a crouching position, the prongs of the fork pointed right for her brother’s belly.

“God forbid a Prince gets roweled up with a pitchfork on hand.” Charlie smiled sadistically, but never lowered his gun.

“Just. Get. Out.” Charlene snarled.

“I can’t.” Charlie’s lips didn’t seem to move.

“Why the hell not?”

“I need a place to hide out for a while.”

“What did you do?” Charlene demanded.

“Sister, I don’ have to do nothin’.” Charlie un-cocked his gun and lowered it to his side. “They jus’ need word that I’m here and the panic rises.” He sounded overly glad of himself.

“And I should be proud of that?”

“I ‘ear you got a man now?

The suddenness of his question brought her up straight, like a puppeteer was pulling her strings from the rafters. “How did you know? How did you even find me?”

“Sister, I’ve got my ways.” He stepped over casually next to the horse. “I never expected you to marry.”

“I didn’t get married ” Charlene snapped. “After you left, I tried and tried to fill the space you left. But that wasn’t good enough Ma and Pa sold me, Charlie They sold me to this miserable excuse of a man ” Tears burned her eyes, but she still held them back.

Charlie stepped up, Charlene instinctively took a step back. He lifted her chin with his index and middle finger, staring at her for several moments, then turned her face to the side with his thumb to get a look at the gruesome bruise. “That miserable son of a bitch did this?” he finally asked.

Charlene jerked away. “It can’t be helped,” she mumbled. “You stay here in the barn.” She said after a long moment. “I’ll be out later with something to eat.” She walked over to the door, then turned back to her brother. Charlie placed his hat on one of the random hooks hugn on the walls and sprawled out on the hay, making himself at home. His sister rolled her eyes and slipped out the door.

--

Later that night, when John had finally drank himself to sleep, Charlene put Ethan to bed and grabbed the plate she’d prepared for Charlie. She lit a candle against the darkness. The moon was full and air cool ans she walked out of the house. A lone coyote howled in the distance. The door opened and she stepped inside. Charlie was sitting on his saddle in the dim light cast by the candle, his elbows propped on his knees, and a gun ready in one hand. He’d been ready for someone else to walk in a pull a gun on him. She could see it in his wild eyes.

“I’m unarmed, Charlie,” Charlene spoke.

“I made sure the pitchfork stayed a’ a safe distance,” Charlie smirked. Charlene silently handed him his supper and coffee and he swallowed it down in a minuet. “You ain’t a bad cook,” he said finally.

“You welcome,” the young woman said, standing with her hands folded in front of her.

Charlie patted the hay next to him. “Sit down, sister. We need to catch up.” Charlene looked at the spot next to him wearily and then at the door. “C’mon. I don’t bite.” There was his sadistic smile again.

She sat down beside him finally. Adjusting her skirts nervously, she spoke, “What have you been up to?”

“Stealin’, killin’, the works,” he said, taking a swallow of coffee. His voice was so casual Charlene couldn’t look at him. Here brother truly was the cold blooded killer just like she hoped he wouldn’t be. “What about you?”

“Me?” Charlene looked at him, angrily. “What does it look like?”

“Why haven’t ya left then?” he contradicted, raising an eyebrow.

“Because of Ethan. I can’t leave him, Charlie. He’s–”

“Take ‘im with then. God, Charlene! Get the hell out of this rat hole and go to New York like you always wanted!”

The fact that he remembered that made her speechless. “I can’t...”was all that came out.

“Can’t or won’t?”

“I want out of here. You don’t think I don’t want to leave?”

“You’re a chicken shit, Charlene! I raised you differently!”

“Then you left!” Charlene shot to her feet. “You left to go kill people and steal every dime they had! You tarnished the Prince name! Thanks a lot for that, you good for nothing bastard!” With that she was out the door and into the house.