Suddenly, the batwing doors of the Silver Dollar Saloon flew open with the blur of The Kid’s body literally flying about fifteen feet through the air. He appeared to arc right over the crowd, transcending the width of the double boardwalk, ending up in the center of the street. Upon landing, he tucked and rolled, finally balling up in a heap amongst the dust and grit. No one dared to blink. There wasn’t time for the unsuspecting onlookers to catch their breath before the fast-moving figure of Ed came running through the same doors. And, using the boardwalk to spring, he took a flying dive onto The Kid. They collided with a grisly thud, rolling over and over, creating balloons of powdery dust until they came to a halt in front of the barn, where the two of them slowly pulled themselves up to face one another.
They began circling and taunting. Finally Ed lashed out with a right.
Followed by a left cross.
And again, with a right.
The Kid stood his ground, taking each punch with a flick of his head. He countered with a quick punch to Ed’s stomach and a left cross of his own. Ed feigned taking the hits. He threw another right, which The Kid blocked expertly. Then The Kid delivered a resounding right.
“Remember, it’s the plam of the hand against the shoulder,” Charley reminded the crowd, while Ed was sent ass-over-tea-kettle to the ground. He staggered as he got to his feet, backing up against the table. The Kid moved in, throwing a right cross, which Ed ducked. Then Ed came up and around with the whiskey bottle in his hand. It was a breakaway. He smashed the bottle over The Kid’s head. The candy glass shattered, showering the crowd. They ooohed and aaahed as The Kid crumbled, sent sprawling by the “force” of the phony container. Ed moved in, sending a kick to The Kid’s face. The Kid took Ed’s boot in the shoulder, flinging himself backward into a roll, coming up near the chair.
As Ed moved toward him, The Kid grabbed the chair, a balsawood mockup, bashing it over his attacker’s head. Pieces of chair flew in all directions. The audience squealed with delight. Ed lay flat on his back where he had stumbled and fallen. The Kid dove on him, only to be caught in mid-dive by Ed’s upraised feet. And with his momentum to carry his full weight, The Kid was flipped right on over Ed’s head. For a brief moment he was airborne. Instead of tucking and rolling the safe way, The Kid deliberately took a twisted header into the soft dirt, landing with his arms and legs going in every direction at once. The crowd loved what they were seeing, and they ooohed and aaahed again to prove it.
The two gunfighters got to their feet, facing off once again. The Kid threw another right. Ed ducked, catching The Kid by his coat collar and the seat of his pants, flinging him toward the barn where the force of his body took out the entire balsawood table. The Kid landed in a pile of lightweight boards and harmless splinters. He got to his feet shakily, then turned tail and began to stumble as he ran toward the sheriff’s office. Ed chased after, finally tackling him to the ground. The two struggled and fought, pulling one another to their feet. They exchanged a few more blows. Ed did most of the swinging while The Kid took the brunt. The Kid was ultimately backed up against the hitching post in front of the blacksmith’s shop. It was there that Ed caught him with a gut punch, followed by an uppercut that sent The Kid backwards, up and over the railing in a controlled flip. When The Kid staggered to his feet, Ed stepped around and slammed him into the double doors of the shop, making a tremendous clattering noise. Then Ed grabbed him by the lapels, spinning him around, plastering him with a punch that sent The Kid reeling into a nearby watering trough, which had been filled to the brim solely for this event. The Kid’s body sent up a gigantic backwash that got Charley and some others wet.
The fight was over. The audience broke into some outstanding applause. They didn’t need Charley to encourage them at all. They had loved every, exciting moment. Charley turned to Wheeler.
“Hey
Wheeler took a final puff from his roll-your-own and then ground it out on the boardwalk. He returned Charley’s wink as the two of them joined the cast in their own personal applause for the two new boys.
Ed and The Kid beamed with delight upon hearing their peers giving them all that attention. Charley moved to the microphone. “And there you have it, folks,” he said. “Let’s hear it for young Ed and, uh, The Kid ... two of Corriganville’s finest stuntmen.”
The applause wouldn’t stop. It felt to The Kid as if it rang and echoed forever. Ed reached down and offered his hand to The Kid. “We did it,” he said under his breath. “Now we’ve got a specialty.”
“Yeah,” said The Kid with a big smile. “And just maybe ... we earned some respect. Did you hear what Charley just called us? ‘Two of Corriganville’s finest.’” Now he was grinning, the biggest grin he’d ever grinned. “One more thing,” he said to Ed. “I think we just learned ‘the ropes,’ don’t you?”