Responsibility: Real or Imagined I
Teaspoon stood as Tompkins filled the doorway of the Marshal’s office. He’d heard the man bellowing in the middle of the street before he’d even set foot on the wooden stairs.
“What may I help you with, Mr. Tompkins?”
“Don’t you try to placate me, Teaspoon. You don’t even know what the problem is; you won’t sound so smug when I get done.”
Nodding in agreement, Teaspoon gestured to a chair. “Then go ahead and jump right on in. Don’t be shy.”
The subtle humor was lost on Tompkins. “I’ve been wronged; Teaspoon and I want to know what you’re going to do about it.”
Teaspoon plunked himself down in his chair and leaned forward against his desk. “Were you robbed?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Well, not exactly.”
“What?”
“I wasn’t robbed, really.”
Teaspoon sat back in his chair and rubbed his forehead, fingers digging into his temples. “You weren’t robbed, not really.”
“Yes.”
Shaking his head, Teaspoon gave Tompkins a doleful look. “Just exactly how does something like this happen, Tompkins?”
“People just have no sense of responsibility anymore.”
Folding his arms over his chest, Teaspoon gave Tompkins a look worthy of the sage man that he was. “And what would you like me to do about it?”
“Fix it, Teaspoon!” Tompkins nearly vaulted out of his chair and began pacing around the room. “It’s all because of that girl… Miss Edgars.”
“Samantha Edgars?” Teaspoon shook his head disbelieving. “I can’t imagine that she’d steal from you. Why,” Teaspoon gave the shopkeeper an indulgent smile, “I don’t believe she was in town for more than a day or two? I hazard a guess she wasn’t in your store besides that one time and from what I heard she weren’t wearin’ nothin’ that could’ve concealed any merchandise… really, Tompkins are you sure you’ve got the right girl?”
“Damn it, Teaspoon, you’re twisting my words. That’s not what I said.”
“So,” he gave a little wink to the man steaming across the room, “you didn’t notice the delightful little get up she was wearin’?”
“Whether I did or didn’t, isn’t any of your meddlin’ business. I’m talkin’ about what she ordered!”
“Oh!” He did his best to remain as stoic as possible. It wasn’t fun to get Tompkins in a dither too quickly… it was more fun to draw it out. “She done ordered something from you and now that she’s not here…”
“That’s right.” Tompkins sounded almost relieved to hear that Teaspoon’s mind was on the right track. “She came in and ordered a bunch of things for the school house and now I’ve got no one to pay me what I’m due. It’s horrible.”
“What’s so horrible about it? Now you’ve got more stock to sell. Really, Tompkins, I think you should look at this as a golden opportunity.”
Tompkins was balling his apron up in his hands. “I’ve got me six boxes of textbooks and supplies that arrived in from the East, just yesterday. All those fancy art books and other such frivolous gewgaws are taking up half of my storeroom and I can’t send them back!”
“Why not?” Teaspoon gave a little sigh. “Seems to me a perfect case for a return. I’m sure your supplier will be more than happy to take them back and-”
Tompkins whirled around to stare at the Marshal. “Didn’t you just hear me?” He gave a few steps forward and leaned in real close to Teaspoon and spoke in a loud shout. “I CAN NOT SEND THEM BACK!”
“Alright. Then why don’t we go on over and see the new school teacher. Maybe she can use the books in class.”
Shaking his head, Tompkins mumbled out a few choice words before looking back up at Teaspoon. “How do you stay Marshal without payin’ any attention? The new school teacher is a man. Did you miss that little fact?” He sucked in a huge breath and continued. “Mr. Lon Chase has no more need for art history books than a hole in the head. No one does, come to think of it. This is just a big ol’ mess and as I can see it you’re right in the middle of it.”
“Me?” Teaspoon pressed his hand to his chest in surprise and shock. “What are you sayin’ Tompkins?”
“You were right in the middle of the whole situation. That… that incident at the dance. Then the duel.”
Teaspoon cocked his head to the side. “I don’t see what this has to do with anything. The duel was somethin’ I dealt with, a sad situation, but as far as I can see none of your business.”
“It has everything to do with this! Miss Edgars left after the duel. After you shot that fine man from Georgia. Really Teaspoon, are you plannin’ on scaring away the new teacher?”
Leaning forward in his chair, Teaspoon fixed Tompkins with a stern look. “That fine man from Georgia was about to kill another person. I did what I had to do to stop him. We told Miss Edgars that she was welcome to stay, but she had certain,” Teaspoon cleared his throat, “personal issues that she had to come to grips with.”
“Well, Teaspoon, I want to know who’s gonna come to grips with the fact that I have a ton of books gatherin’ dust in my storeroom and there ain’t no one in a fifty mile radius who would want ‘em. I want to know who’s gonna take responsibility and give me the money I’m out. This wasn’t my fault.”
Teaspoon stood up and gave Tompkins a stern look. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault, Tompkins… things happen.”
“Not to me they don’t… things like this happen and I close up shop… where would the town be then, Teaspoon?” He stalked over to the door, the ends of his apron curving around his knees, almost tangling them in the hem.
Coming around his desk Teaspoon called out for Tompkins to hold for second.
“What is it?”
“I’ll go over and talk to the town council. They’re the ones that hired Miss Edgars… maybe they have a solution.”
“I sure hope so.”
“So, how much was it?”
“Was what?”
“The shipment… how much was it?”
“Just shy of five dollars.”
Teaspoon’s brows lifted high on his forehead. “Five dollars, huh?”
“That’s what I said. Good day.”
Teaspoon sat down on the edge of his desk and let out a long sigh as he watched Tompkins head back across the street to his store. “They’ll never give him the money.”