Old Watering Hole // [Willow Ann & Mace]

Willow Ann was content to believe that her life was unremarkable.

She grew up part of a ranching family, and learned how to ride with the best of them. There were the little things gone missing, when times were tough they’d eaten horse meat, and when her father was made lame by one of the ornery mustangs, it was Willow that stepped up to take care of what needed doing. To Willow Ann, life was about the little victories, the bits of sunshine that you could pocket and share with those you loved. She learned that hate wasted too much energy. Indeed, every morning was another beautiful moment she got to share, and why shouldn’t she have appreciated the chance given?

Her pride and joy was Elias—now just twelve, but growing bigger every day—and she credited her pith and cheer with having to raise the boy on her lonesome. No one knew much about who’d been the father but, Willow Ann made it known she didn’t need to rely on a man for Elias to have a good life. She spent enough time working on herself to know that love started from the inside out, and not the other way around. If she could teach that to her own boy, that would be enough. That was the spark that got her thinking she could make a change, or at the least, show her son that the world was worth fighting for.

Elias got plenty sick with his cousin during the winter, and there wasn’t enough medicine to go around. Whatever fever he’d had struck his left ear mostly deaf. By some small chance he’d not expired, and Willow Ann knew she wouldn’t waste another moment with him. But more than that, she stepped back from her quiet little life, and started to see (even through all the sunshine and rainbows), there were things that needed changing. Granted, the capitol would always hold them down in some way, but capitol be darned if Willow Ann couldn’t pull herself together to make sure they were fighting to make things better.

The world smiled down on her when they opened up the Mayoral races. Then it laughed, throwing in Mace—just about the only name anyone knew from district ten—and the contest seemed over as soon as it began. There was another gentleman too, and by the by minds seemed made up. But Willow looked at little Elias and decided that whether or not she won or got any other votes besides her own, the least she could do would be to try.

She spent days in the town square underneath a handwritten banner, with the scraps of whatever she’d been able to pull together put into sweet smelling pies. She shook hands and complimented faces, and reminded folks that there was a race to be won, and if they could only please consider her in full she’d be grateful. And they nodded in that same district ten way, ruminating on a lady Mayor and mumbling about a difficult choice.

Slipping away in the heat of the afternoon, Willow went to the watering hole to get a sarsaparilla. Not a drinker herself, she went for something sweet and cold to drive back the heat of the summer. Of course she nearly spat out her drink when she heard Willow Ann Lexington, ain’t you a sight. She took Mace’s hand with a smile.

“Well you old so-and-so,” She started, but it was too late. We’re gonna have ourselves a proper debate. Even Mace couldn’t quell their curiosity. Instead, he nodded and offered the gentlemanly ladies first.

“Well—” Willow Ann stood from her stool by the bar and cleared her throat. Her heart thumped in her ears, and she took a breath. “It’s not that I don’t think you been doin’ a fine job representing us. But…” She looked at their long faces, and the sweat on their brows.

“I got a son of my own that nearly went this past winter. And it about scared the life out of me. There ain’t enough medicine for all of us. Or doctors, either. We deserve a kind of place where we don’t have to worry about putting someone in the ground, or falling over in the heat. I think we need to work together for that. Mean’s more than just having someone stand up for us… mean’s ideas and solutions, like training folk, and working with what we got to remedy the ill. Or digging more wells for fresh water—or coming together to make sure farm walls straight and keep the cattle where they are.”

She flushed. Did she speak too much? Was this even what they wanted.

“Uh… don’t you think? I mean, you seen more of this world’n most of us. How would you fix this?”