Gus walked around the town of Slightcreek and tried to put his finger on the issue. The paint on the mining town’s buildings was fading. One of the saloon doors made the only sound in town, swinging off its hinges. A town like this would serve as the inspiration for a million Westerns someday, but no dreams were being made right now.
“Willie!” Gus screamed down Main Street. “Mandy! Jeb! Noah!”
No one replied. Not even a tumbleweed greeted him.
Gus sat on the front step of the general store and thought. His boots were muddy, his beard full of dust, aging him.
No one was left. He was Slightcreek’s last resident.
Gus loved Slightcreek. He loved the memories. He loved chasing down outlaws and the piano at the saloon. Of course, the piano was gone—as was every bottle in that place. Gus checked. Mostly, he loved the people. And now the last of them had moved on.
“Well, I have a decision to make,” Gus said to no one. “I either become the first ghost here, or I leave and let the ghosts move in.”
Gus went to get his horse. He couldn’t believe that the remaining townspeople hadn’t told him they’d left. Of course, he’d been so stubborn, why would they tell him? He’d shot out wagon wheels of people as they were leaving. He’d thrown rocks at those abandoning the place.
Dusk arrived as he walked down Main Street for the last time. He stopped at the town sign and wrote “vacant” under Slightcreek. He did not want to stay one more night. Gus would make a fire somewhere on the road to someplace else. Maybe Gus would go back east and get out of the cowboy game.
The road was darker than it should have been. His light seemed to only illuminate a few feet in front of him. He felt as if people were passing him just out of sight.
Gus stopped suddenly. He thought he heard laughter coming from the town. He turned back, but saw no lights on and heard nothing more. If he really tried, he could imagine the subtle clinks of a piano.
Gus turned back and was shocked to see a woman in front of him. She was hard to see, even with Gus’s light.
“There’s a town ahead?” the woman asked. Her voice sent a chill down his spine.
“Just a ghost town,” Gus assured, “I’m leaving.”
“Perfect,” the woman said, smiling. “Thanks for giving it to us.”