Tombstone Tales

Tombstone Tales: 

Stories from the Town Too Tough To Die… and Beyond

 

Written by: Gary Ledoux

Illustrated by: Joyce Aros

 

 

Available Now! 

 

In the grand tradition of story-telling, Tombstone Tales is not truely fiction, nor is it purely non-fiction, but a unique blend of Tombstone's colorful past, present, and possible future.  Thirteen chapters tied together with a central character, Ezra T. Thornton, will challenge the reader to define which is more intriguing; the simple facts, or what might have been... or what could be...

 

Chapters include:

 

Chapter 1: The Prospector

 

Wednesday, August 20, 1877 3:00PM Goose Flats, Arizona Territory

Ezra T. Thornton’s enclosed circus-style wagon moved slowly over the desert floor; the four, large yellow wheels creaking and groaning with each turn over the uneven ground.  Despite a team of six hardy mules, the wagon lumbered slowly along.  With its short stairway leading up the back to a small, glass-paned door, and its overall bright red color, the wagon looked more like the caboose of a train rather than a mule-drawn conveyance.  The bright red color seemed very fitting as red is the color usually associated with hell and the devil; and the day’s heat made Ezra feel he must be getting closer to hell than the paradise he sought.

Fancy lettering splashed boldly across the length of the wagon’s sides in yellow, gold leaf, and blue as if it were an advertising poster for the Barnum and Bailey circus, announced to the world how Ezra made his living - “E.T. Thornton – Mercantile”. 

 

Chapter 2: The Gunfighter

 

Saturday afternoon, April 15, 1994   Riverside, California

Bobby delivered the first Earp line as Wyatt, “You boys have been looking for a fight.  Well now you can have it!”

            Harold then spoke as Virgil, “Throw up your hands.  We’re here to disarm you!”

Just as they had rehearsed, the next few moments were tense as both sides eyed each other with their hands on their pistols.  The click of a .45 being cocked could be distinctly heard as the crowd stood deafeningly quiet. Finally Harold, acting as Virgil, and holding Doc’s walking stick in his left hand, held the stick high over his head and spoke those famous final words before the shooting started, “Wait…that’s not what I want!”

            That was the cue.  Some people in the crowd stuck their fingers in their ears as the loud gun-blasts filled the air with acrid smoke.  Some smaller children got scared and began crying, some mothers looked horrified, some men were smiling being so close to something they had only read about or seen on TV and in movies.

Bobby began firing his pistol, pulling back on the hammer and then pulling the trigger, one-handed as he thought Wyatt would have done.  He tried to “aim” at his “assailants”, but also tried to aim down and to one side of the opposing man as he was trained to do for a re-enactment.

Suddenly, Bobby felt a sharp pain in his chest, like he had been stabbed with a hot knife, and he was blown back on his heels, falling to the ground flat on his back.  At first he wondered if he had taken a direct hit.  “But even a direct hit with a blank should not feel like this!” he thought.  “Beside, those other guys were at least 15 feet away, just as they should be for a re-enactment shooting! What the heck…?”

Bobby felt something wet on his chest.  His free left hand went instinctively to his burning chest.  He felt something wet and sticky.  Blood…and then, everything went black.

 

Chapter 3: The Man Who Saved Wyatt Earp

 

Wednesday October 26, 1881   1:50PM  Tombstone, A.T.

Henry had been wandering around Tombstone all morning, taking in the sights and sounds of what appeared to him to be… Tombstone.  It sure looked like a new mining camp in southeastern Arizona Territory – new for 1881!  It all looked so real… the buildings… the people… the way they dressed and talked.  If it was a hoax, he thought, it was a darned good one.  He walked to the edges of town, north south east and west, perhaps hoping to find some trace of the twentieth century that would tell him it was all a sham.  But there were no traces – only endless desert beyond the town’s fringes.  All he could do was play along for the time being.

 

Chapter 4: The Stage Driver

 

Tuesday, March 8, 1881, 8:55AM Tombstone, Arizona Territory

A faint smile crossed Phin’s lips, “With all those contacts you have, do you suppose you can find me a stage driver?  I mean… someone that will stay more than a few weeks?  Hell…maybe you can order me one from one of those suppliers of yours?”

Both men chuckled at the strange thought of simply “ordering” a person through a mercantile supplier.

Ezra leaned over the display case and with a sly smile and wink replied, “Well, with my contacts, I can get most anything - most anything.  I’ll see what I can do!”

 

 

Chapter 5: The Writer

 

Monday, October 11, 2003 8:00AM Tombstone, Arizona

“Your first time in Tombstone, I presume?”

Rod Livingston had been standing for several minutes in front of Ezra’s Mercantile store on Tombstone’s Allen Street, staring at the Bird Cage Theatre across the street.  It was an early Saturday morning and the throngs of tourists in shorts and baseball hats had not yet ventured out to taste the heat of a rising Arizona sun.

Ezra stood in the doorway of his store, impeccably dressed as always in his usual 1880’s-style attire, boiled white shirt, red brocade vest festooned with a rich gold-watch chain and high-top shoes. 

The man standing before him, just off the boardwalk, turned about, knowing that he was the only one on the street at this early hour.  Facing the well-dressed man, he suddenly felt under-dressed and out of place in his blue jeans and ragged tee shirt.  Moreover, carrying a lap-top computer under his arm, as opposed to the usual camera carried by Tombstone’s tourists, the man seemed particularly out of place.

Stepping up onto the board walk to shake Ezra’s hand, Rod replied, “Why, yes.  It’s that obvious, huh?”

The two men smiled warmly.

“Ezra T. Thornton.  I’m a merchant.  This is my store – and welcome to my town.”

“Rod Livingston from Los Angles. Seeker of the truth” came the reply.

 

 

Chapter 6: The Immortals

 

February 1882  Tombstone, A.T.

Ezra leaned forward in his chair again and moved closer to George.  His countenance took on an eerie, fiendish grin and he spoke in a low tone so that no one could hear.  “You’d be surprised at what I can do.  Be at my store tomorrow at precisely noon.  Don’t say anything to your uncle.  I’ll make both your dreams come true.”

George was shocked, almost stunned at the claims made by his new friend.  It seemed impossible that this man, just a man… could make dreams come true.  Mr. Thornton was a merchant; nothing more.

Before George could collect his thoughts and comment on Ezra’s wild claims, Clum returned and again took his place at the table.  “And how are you gentlemen getting along?”

Ezra smiled and replied, “Splendidly!”

 

Chapter 7: Brunckow

 

1929, September 15  3:15PM  Tombstone

Ezra looked quizzically at the old man standing before him with a sense that he should have known him…but could not place the face or voice or any instance where he would have run across such a man.  The Indian spoke again, “You are Ezra Thornton.  I remember you as if we met yesterday.  But do you remember me?”

Ezra’s quizzical look turned suddenly into a faint smile and almost in an instant, into a wide grin, “Of course.  Noglee – Runs with Coyotes – orphan of Camp Grant and Geronimo confederate.  I was wondering if I would ever see you again.”

Noglee’s grin widened as his eyes, at first dim, began to sparkle, “And I thought the same thing about you.  Do you remember a late night meeting at your home – almost 50 years ago?”

“I do indeed” said Ezra quick and certain.  “…like it was yesterday.”

Ezra’s face then lost much if its wide smile.  “And I also remember a request you made of me all those years ago.  I have not acted upon it, but have not forgotten it either.”

 

 

Chapter 8: Justice and Redemption

 

Monday, August 26, 1929  7:30PM The Gem Boarding House  Dallas, Texas

Michael O’Rourke had a made a life for himself, such as it was, over the past 48 years in Dallas, Texas.  Starting out as a sometime saloonkeeper, sometime stock handler, and occasionally performing odd-jobs, O’Rourke was only consistent about one thing – he was a gambler – and a darned good one at that.  Being careful who he “fleeced” he wanted to make sure that he never cheated or angered the locals.  He had made a mistake a long time ago – angering people in the place where he lived – and didn’t want to repeat that portion of his life.

 

Chapter 9: Nantan

 

Thursday  July 10, 1882  8:45AM

John Clum sat on a wooden bench outside the office of the Sandy Bob Stage Lines.  Two bulging suitcases sat on the wooden platform by his side, the contents of which represented everything he owned in the world.

 

Clum was dressed, as he always was, in a dapper business suit, clean white shirt and a derby hat – all of which had been perfectly crisp just a short time ago, but now began to look a bit wilted in the growing Arizona heat and dust.

“So… you’re really leaving I see!”

Clum turned toward the familiar voice.  It was his friend Ezra Thornton, standing at the edge of the waiting platform, holding a small, black leather satchel.

“Leaving…?  Yes.  Mostly because I don’t have a reason to stay!”

 

Chapter 10: Return to Tombstone

 

Wednesday March 18, 1953  Albany, California 

George Ellis McGurk lay on his bed, in his small rented home in Albany, CA, wheezing and choking, his emaciated body showing every hard day of his 81 years.  His grown son, best known as Kid Bronco was by his side waiting – waiting for the end that he knew was inevitable.

            George Ellis McGurk never had any formal education, roaming from town to town throughout Arizona, New Mexico and California, working ranches, occasionally tending bar, but generally bumming aimlessly about.  His son, a love-child of a short and tumultuous affair followed in his father’s footsteps, holding only odd jobs here and there, settling for a while riding in a rodeo where he acquired his sobriquet.

The two seemed to just muddle along throughout their lives, keeping each other out of trouble – and out of jail most of the time.

If Kid Bronco didn’t have anything that drove him in his life, Arizona Slim had enough driving force for the both of them.  He always talked about returning to Tombstone, to repay a debt, although his travels never seemed to head in that direction.  

 

Chapter 11: The Bad Man

 

Saturday, May 3, 1882 10:15AM  Tombstone, A.T.

Working in the back of his store, Ezra heard the front door open, and the sound of heavy boots on his wooden floor.  A deep and authoritative voice called out, “Is anyone here?”

Russian!  The voice was distinctively Russian. 

Ezra stepped from the deep shadows into the light of his store-front and was greeted by a well dressed, and obviously very refined middle aged man with a broad dark moustache and a walking stick.  The man started, “Are you Ezra Thornton?”

 

Chapter 12: The Death Of Johnny Ringo

 

Friday June 20, 2008   12:05PM  Tombstone AZ

“Can I interest you in a book today, Mr Thornton?”

Ezra looked at Martin, smiled, then turned to Lilly and gave her a wink.  Turning back to the smiling author Ezra said, “The death of Johnny Ringo is quite a controversy, Mr. Hickman – and has been since he died in 1882.  Does your book dispel any of the rumors or controversy surrounding that unfortunate incident?  Have you finally discovered who, in fact, killed Johnny Ringo?  Or was it suicide?  Do you reveal how that poor young man died?”

Martin Hickman smiled rather sheepishly, and suddenly looked boyish.  “Well Mr. Thornton, there are many different theories as to how Ringo died.  Are you familiar with them?”

 

Chapter 13: Too Tough To Die

 

Saturday June 1, 2028, 4:15PM

“Headed over to the committee meeting, Ezra?”

Ezra Thornton was just locking the door to secure his mercantile store for the day.  Dressed, as always in his finest frock coat, red brocade vest and top-hat, Ezra looked as elegant and regal as ever – a stark contrast to the growing dinginess and decay of Tombstone.  The Arizona sun was still shining bright, warm and inviting along Tombstone’s Allen Street - but not inviting enough to draw the tourists of past years.

Several shop owners stood in the doorway of their stores looking forlornly at the almost empty street.  A few reenactors stood on street corners, has they had for years, hawking local restaurants but their “barking” simply drifted off with the summer breeze down Allen Street and into the desert.

 

 

 

Available in paperback only  (available for Kindle readers in the near future)

 

324 pages

Illustrations and photos

Officially listed as Fiction... but read it... and decide for yourself!

 

Launch Date:  July 27, 2010

Price:  $19.95 includes domestic shipping

 

Send check or MO to:

 

 

 

Clum & Co. Old West Productions

PO Box 581229

North Palm Springs, CA  92258

 

 

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