One does not sell the land people walk on (Justice, Montana)

[Harold Alexander Truss]

"There's the whole veneer of respectability, no matter how thin the coat is spread on the surface."

He smiled.

"We're smarter than that, but others aren't."

He looked back to her, and then to his cigar as he exhaled.

"Simple people call me a hypocrite. Like I said, it's water under the bridge."

[Andy McCall]

Her coy smile turned to one of cunning.

"Ah, that's just it though, innit. It's the money is what it all comes down to."

It was one of those rare moments for Andy - whether drugged up on laudinum or not - where she could converse without too much slander or scandalous intentions. Odd, how these moments only surfaced with Mayor Truss about. Perhaps it was because he'd included her in his statement about bein' smart like him; who knew.

Either way she knew what it was all really about.

"The money. Diff'rence 'tween you an me though... " a grunt, as Doc began fishing the bullet out, "... is that you're wantin' money and power. I jus' want money an' fun."

[Harold Alexander Truss]

The smile faded somewhat from the mayor's lips.

"Money is power. They're transferrable. They're also not an end unto themselves. People who say they're after one or the other without any other intuition are unimaginative. You can't take it with you."

[Andy McCall]

"Alright then," Andy leaned back a little, suddenly wishing that she had a glass - or better yet a bottle - of whiskey in hand.

"What is it you really want."

Was this the sort of conversation that Mr. Truss was expecting to have with someone like her? Probably not, she guessed. For the first time ever, Andy found herself genuinely curious about the inner thought processes that made up Harold Alexander Truss, and what drove him onward.

[Harold Alexander Truss]

That was a chestnut of a question. The mayor savored his cigar, letting the unanswered query linger for a minute or so like the smoke.

"I figure when I'm older and a little more grey, I can leave this town to somebody better off than when I found it. I want to be able to work my plot of land with my wife, and raise my children, and not really give a damn about tomorrow. Let that be somebody else's problem, since I took care of today."

He laughed, a bit abashed at his own metaphysical absurdity.

"I figure it would be hubris if I just cashed it in on a statue, wouldn't it?"

[Andy McCall]

"I dunno. I bet a statue of you would be a sight to see in this tow- ow!"

Doc Lenard had prodded enough for the pain to briefly spike through the laudinum, and Andy had to keep from swatting him away as he continued to work.

She instead settled for grinding her teeth and trying to ignore the pain.

"I seen yor wife 'round town. Quiet thing. Don't say much."

Andy found herself enjoying the haze of cigar smoke.

"Yor girls are hellions though. Watch out or they'll end up lookin' for money an' fun like me."

[Harold Alexander Truss]

The mayor grinned and bore the little jab, cocking an eyebrow as he considered it.

"I come home every day and leave Mayor Truss at home. That's the most important thing I can do for them. I can't guarantee they'll be for the better because of it, but it's my yearning."

It was like teaching greek to a mute. Mr. Truss wondered if she could comprehend that sort of familial reckoning. Either way, he felt like he'd spilled his entrails on the table for her to read some sort of fortune that was best left unsaid. Regret wasn't the word. He wondered if she could understand that for all of his cynicism, there was at least some austere feeling in him.

[Andy McCall]

"Long as you leave yor job at the door then, I've got some faith that yor girls'll straighten 'emselves out."

Andy was watching Doc Lenard with a detached air now, something far out of character for her.

"My old man was a history teacher - maybe not so important as a mayor, but that don't matter. He was a teacher for a school back east, an' a teacher at home. He told me 'bout lots of ancient stuff and empires and people, but he never really acted like a dad. Just a teacher."

Whether she took anything from his words or not, that was up to him to decipher. In her own way she could understand what he was saying without using exact words.

"Long as yor a husband an' dad to your family and not 'Mayor Truss', s'all that matters in the end."

[Harold Alexander Truss]

It was a common thread he was glad to have, especially so that it was in relative private. On the streets, they wouldn't have this sort of talk, and they'd pass with the minimal amount of interaction.

"I need to go."

The time had presented itself for him to be excused. He really didn't care to linger when the Doc brought out the needle and thread. Rising to his feet, he regarded the woman of ill repute.

"Don't put yourself in front of any more bullets, Miss McCall. That would be a shame."

He glanced out at the street. The deputies and Crawfish Mullins weren't to be found. He wasn't concerned though. He knew where they had absconded to.

[Andy McCall]

The sight of needle and thread was enough to make Andy's face grow pale, but she put on a brave face regardless.

"Ain't something I normally aspire to do, Truss."

She saw his eyes looking out the window. She knew what was on his mind now, and her thoughts went back to Mullins even as she turned back to watch Doc thread the needle.

"Tell that dumb ox I said hi."

[Harold Alexander Truss]

Behind his cigar, the mayor smiled.

"In less words, I'll do that."

He tipped his hat again, and exited the doctor's office. From here, he had a decidedly darker task at hand.