JD shifted wearily. He risked a casual glance down at his watch. Precisely
two minutes since the last time he'd checked it. He sighed, trying to
focus on the conversation around him.
He listened, more or less, attentively as the conversation shifted to
the latest corporate maneuvers. It was no use. He wasn't going to make
it though the evening without yawning in someone's face. And he couldn't
do that, because Casey had made him promise, under penalty of death, not
to.
When Casey had talked him into escorting her to the opening of the new
wing of the museum, she had made it sound... Well, he'd known it was going
to be political mingling. But she had made it sound like an evening with
her. They'd been here for an hour and a half. He hadn't seen her since
Professor Myers had peeled Casey off JD's arm as they walked through the
door.
He excused himself from the conversation quietly. Casey wouldn't be ready
for quite a while yet, but JD wasn't sure just how much more small talk
he could take. Most of the patrons had turned out to see who had out contributed
who, and had yet to venture into the display area. He took advantage of
that and slipped away unnoticed.
At least the exhibits weren't too bad. In fact, if he let himself admit
it, some of them were even interesting.
He was drawn to the Old West section. A nod to his childhood, when he
had desperately wanted to grow up to be Bat Masterson. He wandered among
the partitioned cases, studying the artifacts with a keen eye. These were
remnants of a heroic age. He had to chuckle at his own melodrama.
He nearly missed it. The case was nestled between the saddle display
and the gun cases. It was unassuming to the point of being camouflaged.
A modest wall plaque the only indication of actual content.
The book was ancient, dog eared and well loved. It was amazing that it
had survived at all. JD gave it a quick glance. Not really a full look
at all. The 'Guns of the Frontier' sign beckoned him from just a few feet
further down and he didn't really want to stop for a book.
Except...
He knew the men on the cover.
Not in that, 'Gee, doesn't that kinda look like so-and-so' vaguely familiar
way.
No.
He KNEW the men on the cover.
They were all there. Chris, Vin, Buck, Nathan, Ezra, Josiah, and... his
own face peered at him across time.
"It's amazing isn't it? Even after all these years, you can still feel
their intensity."
JD jumped as a voice broke the suddenly heavy silence.
An elderly man stood behind him, watching JD with a knowing smile. "Sorry,
didn't mean to startle you. Michael Potter," he said, offering his hand.
"JD Dunne. A pleasure to meet you."
"Have we met? You look familiar."
"I don't believe so, sir. I don't normally attend this sort of thing."
Michael laughed. "Neither do I. I came because of them." He gestured
toward the book.
"What do you mean?"
"I loaned the book to the museum. It was my grandfather's. He grew up
in Four Corners. The town where the Seven rode."
"You mean the book is true?" JD couldn't keep his wonder from creeping
into his voice.
"Granddad always claimed it was. I tried to go back once and research
the stories. But there was a fire in the 1920s. Burned fully half of the
town's buildings. No records of the Seven survived."
"It's a shame too. The stories he used to tell... Truth be told, I've
always been kind of glad that no records exist. If I couldn't prove they
lived, at least I couldn't prove they didn't live. There's no record of
them, other than this book and the stories I grew up on."
JD was entranced. The idea that the book was real fascinated him. "What
do you think happened to them?"
"I don't know. I like to think that they found a sunset to ride off into.
But only history knows, and she isn't sharing. I wanted the book to be
seen, so they didn't fade away entirely. Granddad always made it clear
that our family owed them at least that.."
"They helped his mother. After his father, my great-grandfather, was
murdered. They stood at her side when no one else in town was brave enough.
Oh- the adventures he used to spin... It's a shame that they've been all
but forgotten."
JD studied the book for a moment. "I don't think they've been forgotten.
At least not what they stood for."
Michael smiled at him. "No, I don't suppose it has." He shook JD's hand
and turned to walk away.
JD glanced back down at the yellowed pages. "Mr. Potter," he said, pulling
a business card out of his wallet. "Here. In case you ever want to keep
the stories alive, by passing them down."
"I'd like that, son. I'd like that a lot."
JD watched him disappear around the corner, then he pulled out his cell
phone.
"Buck? It's JD.... No, everything's fine.... Listen, get the guys together....
Tell them to wear suits and meet me at the Metro Museum....That's right.
The Museum. There's something you all HAVE to see."
The End
