a night at the ten high saloon

We were all sitting around the table at the ten high saloon,now the ten high is the sort of place that now a days you only see in old cowboy movies or at a dude ranch,it had a long wooden bar with a huge mirror on the wall behind it,and wooden tables and chairs scattered about here and there around the hard wood floor,with a large wood burning stove in the middle of the room,and yes,it even sported a spitoon or two at a couple of the tables.
We called our selves the "lucky seven"we called ourselves this because we were the only ones that had returned alive from a group of about ffifteen of the local boys that had volunteered to go over seas and fight in the last war.
After returning from the war we had formed a sort of survivors club and we met once a week here at the ten high to play poker and reminis about what had happened to us during war.
Now originally we had been the lucky eight,but old one eye jack had passed away last year from a massive heart attack during the evening news,his wife had said at the time,that he just had kelled over and died,although his name was really jack winslow,we had just called him one eye jack because of his fondness for calling one eyed jacks as the wild card in our weekly game.
Funny thing was,that jack had always thought that he would just "know"when it was his time to die,he was always seeing signs,if a bird flew over head it was a sign that he was going to die,
if a fish flopped in a stream that he was fishing in it was a sign that he was going to die in three days,to jack,death was always just around the corner,waiting to get him,guess old man death had finally just got tired of jack's moaning and finally decided just to get him out of his misery,so to speak.
Well since old one eyed jack had died,we had kept an empty chair turned over and propped up against the table and an empty glass at the place where he had always sat.
Tonight,it was a really bad night,it was snowing and the wind was blowing and we had a real nice fire going in the old stove in the middle of the saloon,the usual crowd was here and there was one or two of the locals in for a beer,Mable,the owner and incidently the waitress/cook and dishwasher was bringing over a tray of glasses and a pitcher of beer for us at the lucky seven table when the front door of the ten high blew open with a loud crash,she dropped the tray and pitcher,i was so startled that i jumped up,over turning our table and scattering it's contents all over the floor.By the time we got it all sorted out,i noticed that a total stranger had enterd the saloon and was standing around looking like he was wondering where he was and how he had gotten there, i was at the bar getting more drinks for our table and still trying to get my heart slowed down from beating so fast after the start that the crashing door and falling pitcher and glasses had caused it.
Now i have always been the friendly sort,always tried to make everyone feel at ease no matter what the situation was nor how i was feeling,i guess it is sort of an outlet for me,to feel responsible for my fellow man i guess.Anyway,i walked up to this fellow and ask the obvious question,are you new here stranger?he didn't say any thing,just nodded his head in the afirmative,
so i said,do you want to join me at our table over there?pointing in the general direction of the lucky sevens table,again i recieved no reply,the stranger just sort of glided toward our table in the corner.He did not sit down as i anticipated,but just stood there looking around as if he were still lost and not knowing where he was,it wasn't untill then that i noticed how pale and wan looking he was,sort of sickly and thin,really thin with dark hollow eyes,those eyes looked as if they could devour you,like he had seen things that no mortal man should ever have to look upon and live to tell about.
Unthinkingly,i ask him if he were hungry and if he would like some of mables beef stew,about this time,i realized that i was hungry myself,i felt that i could eat a horse if it were set before me,it was a ravenous hunger,a hunger like i had never felt before nor since and hope and pray to never feel again!The stranger raised a hand in protest,inadvertently i mistook this as a gesture to shake hands and took his hand in mine,intending to give it a purfunctory shake,
but upon grasping his hand,i felt as if i were shaking hands with a skeleton,i mean i could SEE flesh and bone,but all i could FEEL was bone,it felt as if i were holding a dead persons hand,i had to conscioulsly refrain from wiping my hand on my trousers,i felt as i had touched somthing unclean!
The stranger suddenly proclaimed in a loud hollow voice I DONT EAT MEAT!that startled all of us into gaped mouth surprize,and it seemed to get cold in the ten high,really cold,as if some one had opened a door to all the winter air in the world,it was a bone chilling cold,a cold so deep that seemed to sear your very soul.
I glanced uselessly at the stove in the middle of the floor to see if it had some how gone out,but no,it was glowing cherry red but the wind out side was crying out like the proverbial banshee and the snow was tapping at the glass window beside our table like a finger trying to get your attention,or to beckon you out side.
I blurted out to the stranger,WHATS YOUR NAME! my own voice sounding a little hollow to me and the question sounded more like a statement than any thing else,but by this time,the stranger had started toward the closed door of the ten high,i walked toward him almost in a trance from the cold,your name,i stuttred,whats your name?The stranger turned in the open door,looked into my eyes once again,and before disappearing into the blowing snow and wind,he whispered his name... ...DONNER...he said....DONNER!

Story ID:	1531
Written by:	Bobby O'neill Mitchum (bio, contact, other stories)
Story type:	Fiction
Location:	Phenix city alabama U.S.A.
Year:	2007
Person:	SELF