Disclaimer: The characters used are the property of MGM and Trilogy. No financial or creative rights are claimed to the characters from the Magnificent Seven television series.
Rating: G
Notes: This is my first attempt at fan fiction. Please be kind. I have been inspired by many gifted writers that I would like to acknowledge: Painted Eyes, Jann, Estevana Rey, Mel, Joan Curtin, etc. Your writings have prompted me to create. I hope you find it worthwhile. A special thanks to Joan for her kind words.
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She had come into his thoughts without warning. It had been almost fifteen years since Vin had pondered on her. Margaret Ann Kelly. Pretty as a picture. Wild as a prairie fire.
His friend when friends were not forthcoming. His friend when he had wanted none. She had come to the tree. His tree at the orphanage. He would walk the roots. Over and over, keeping balance and humming to himself. Over and over.
Vin heard words like simple, dim-wit. “Something is wrong with that boy.” He didn’t pay them no mind. He didn’t care. They left him alone. That was fine. That’s what he wanted. They would only hurt him. They had already hurt him. They had taken him away from all he knew. They had taken him away from his ma. So, he would walk the roots and hum a song, alone. Bits and pieces of songs he could remember. Not a complete song, because he couldn’t remember a complete song. That made him sad in his heart. That things were not complete, would never be complete.
Margaret Ann Kelly smiled at him and said nothing at first. Just watching. He wanted her to leave, to leave him alone with his songs and his tree. “Can I play too?” He looked at her awhile. Looked at her long and hard. And she smiled. He remembered her eyes. Nice and green and deep, deep down full of friendship for him. For him. “Okay.” was all Vin had offered her. “Okay.” And they walked the roots, together.
She had long blonde hair, tied back into two braids. She would make him grab hold of them and they would run and run. She was his pony in the wilds. Running free and far, until they could run no further. Not from exhaustion, but from captivity. So they would go to his tree and walk the roots and sing.
It happened one winter day. Margaret Ann was taken to the doctors. No one told Vin why she went. He couldn’t bring himself to ask. Vin never talked to anyone but Margaret Ann. When she came back that night, she was tired. She told him that she might be sick. That she might be gone away a lot so she could get better. “Okay.” That was all he had to offer. “Okay.” Vin knew if he had said more he would cry. And that would make it real. Make all of it real. So he didn’t.
Vin waited for her to come back. Weeks went by and one day, Margaret Ann Kelly was at his tree with him. They played that day with a fear deep inside like it might be the last. She had a Bible with her. Vin wondered why. Was she getting ready to talk to Jesus? Would he be ready to talk to Jesus? He never read the Bible. He couldn’t read. “Let’s ride!” She yelled to him. And they ran and ran together.
That night he asked her to promise to say good-bye. She knew what he meant and she promised with a cross to her heart. She left again and it seemed liked months went by before Vin had heard any word of her. One morning they said a prayer for Margaret Ann Kelly. She had died during the night. “ Ten years old. What a terrible shame”. They said. “What a pity. Beautiful Child.”
That week they had cut down his tree. They needed to add another room to the orphanage. More children coming. So, Vin left. And never looked back. And never thought of her until tonight.
He remembered it like a dream within a dream. He remembered her coming to him while he was sleeping. She was all bright and white. He remembered that, now. There were people with her, one on each side. They were dark. He felt their presence, but couldn’t see their faces. He could only see Margaret Ann. His Margaret Ann.
“Where are you going?”
“I have to go away. Lay down, go back to sleep.”
“Can I come?”
“No.” She smiled. “Go to sleep.” He did with a sigh of resignation, a sigh of deep loss.
Vin had not remembered that she had come to say good-bye, that she had kept her promise until tonight. What had triggered his memory? He couldn’t say. But it made him happy to know that she had kept her promise and she was safe with Jesus, maybe.
Chris came out of the saloon, offering a bottle. Vin took it silently, thoughtfully.
After a time, Vin spoke.
“Hey Larabee, would you walk the roots with me?”
Chris looked at him curiously, knowing there was more to that question, strange as it was. After a few swigs from the bottle and a deep contemplation, Chris replied.
“Always.”
Vin smiled at Chris. Each looking into the others eyes, carefully,thoughtfully. Not wanting to lose something so fragile, so precious. Vin had seen those eyes before, a lifetime ago. The eyes of a friend.
Dedicated to the memory of Peggy. A dear friend.
Please email (KBJ) Kimberly with any comments.