Casey Grey vs. Helena Handbasket

Dust flies up around the rented white Corvette Stingray as it comes to a stop on the dirt road. Casey, wearing sunglasses, her black hoodie, jeans, and her baseball cap, opens the car door. She steps out onto the street. If it wasn’t for the car shining in the sunlight, and many others like it, it would look as if she’d stepped back in time a hundred and thirty-five years. A group of cowboys, or at least they look that way, walk by. Two doff their hats. Casey nods in return. A horse drawn coach rolls by. Casey takes a picture of a building across the street, then a selfie in front of the building behind her.

“I would never forgive myself if I actually visited Arizona and didn’t come here. Nor would I be forgiven. This place is famous, ya know?”

Casey walks along the road. Crossing a side street, she steps up onto a wooden porch and keeps walking.

“There’s movies about it.  I think everyone’s heard of it even if they don’t know where to look on the map to find it. My dad, brothers…huge fans of the place but they’ve never been here before. They’re gonna kill me when I send ‘em these pics.  Now, not to cheapen any of the other legends that have come through here but the reason the place is on the bucket list for the Grey family is because of a certain dentist from Griffin. Not too far from home, but we’re not kin or anything.”

Casey takes another picture and keeps walking.

“Lots of mystery here, too. You know, things like what really happened on that October day. That’s a big one, but I like the lawman version so that’s what I’m going with if I have to answer the question. Mystery, like you, Helena. Who do I address? Is it Haley, the talker? Or is it Bastila, the fighter? Am I talking about your wrestling ability or are we having a debate? It almost feels weird referring to you as “Helena” at all, truth be told. I mean, is it even…I don’t know…within the rules for you to be doing what you’re doing? Can I push the position that I want to fight the one that’s doing the talking because she’s the one that’s letting her battleship mouth write checks her rowboat backside can’t cash? You should be ashamed of yourself, putting your sister in the situations you do. I don’t mean to sound so…”

Casey looks to her left and appears, for lack of a better word, star struck. Four men in long black coats are walking down the street. One has what should be an easily recognizable mustache.

“Ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod…picture time!”

Casey runs up to the men.

“Oh. My god. Can I please get a picture with you guys?”

The four men answer in the affirmative, Casey takes several selfies with the four men before allowing them to continue on their way. Casey watches after them for a moment and shakes her head to clear her thoughts before continuing.

“Anyway, like I was saying. Battleships and rowboats and Elysium's legal system. There is probably a rule somewhere I could exploit to make sure I get the talker, but I’m not one to go to cops, juries, or courtrooms. Or even bosses. That’s why I was fired from McDonalds when I was seventeen in what became known as the College Park French Fry Incident. I’m from a long line of people that are more than willing to handle any sort of dispute on our own, so you’re lucking out there-” Casey pauses and shrugs dramatically, “Helena, I guess? I can play along if you want and it makes everything easier.  For me, I mean.  You've been signed to this match and you've got a tough row to hoe."

Casey takes more pictures of the buildings and people around her.

“Now, it’s not like I hate or even dislike you. We’re cool. We can even go to the Waffle House after the match. But if you’re between me and my win in the ring, then it has to be on. I don’t want to hurt you, but you have to stay down for three. I don’t want to wrench on your neck, but you have to slap the mat like a trained seal. I don’t want to make you spend part of your salary on a dental bill, but it’s a distinct possibility. I don’t doubt that you’re a good wrestler and you’re unpredictable as a rattlesnake and tough as a coffin nail. It’ll be a great win for me but at the same time, you might be the one that has my number.  Any given Sunday.  If that turns out to be the case well…you’re a daisy if you do.”

As Casey continues walking up the street, she walks under an awning and next to an old cart. A sign starts to descend into view. The first words that come into view, at the bottom of the sign, read “Gunfight Site”.

“Now, if you watch the nineteen ninety-three movie about this place, you’ll hear a sayin’ from that ol’ Griffin dentist and that sayin’ basically means “I’m the one”. You know, “Look no further”. I’ll go ahead and repeat it because it’s so damn cool and we got a fight comin’ whether you want it or not. I’m-”

Casey keeps walking. The next word on the sign comes into view. “Corral”

“Your-”

The Final word comes into view, larger than the rest and only two letters. “O.K.”

“Huckleberry.”

Black.