The sound of an 88 cubic inch Harley stopping at the door woke 'em all up.

"Whatdafuk" said the mouse? Lookin' through the dusty streams of light coming in the door. They all turned to see the traveler ease off the trail worn seat and come to the door. He was past his prime and the leathers he wore had seen the asphalt a time or two. He had a slight limp to his gait - probably from a wreck somewhere past - but he stood straight up. Blue/grey eyes, a three day dusting of grey and brown whiskers, and a patch on the lower part of his coat that read - "In Memory of the 58,000."

The door creaked slightly as he walked in. With a tight grin he asked for a glass of ice water.

With a nod of approval he motioned to the fiddler near the stage and started tapping his foot in time with the music. The drunks down the bar, and where in the hell did that mouse come from, all smiled a return to his wordless greeting. Seemed if it had been a hundred years earlier he'd of been on a wild assed stallion and carying a 32-20 Colt strapped low to his hip.

As he sipped his water he dreamed of a time in the past when he used to get up on those stages and play for the crowd. But his old guitar had been hocked last year to cover the rebuild costs on a motor gone bad in the Arizona desert.

As his gaze continued to caress the seemingly familiar room he noticed a nice looking lady sweeping up the place - could it be? NO? He hadn't seen or spoken to her for better'n 15 years. But sure as all get out - it was his sister Katherine. She hadn't noticed WHO it was - just that some guy was here making the customers nervous.

He laughed inside - Damn - if she remembers me there'll be hell to pay today. He was bettin' she hadn't forgotten the last time the two of them were together. She had been plenty upset that he hadn't come home for their Dad's funeral. But crap - me and the Old Man didn't get along anyway. But she had still chewed his ass good when she caught up with him. And he wasn't sure she'd foregiven him for dumping his first wife. Sis and Jackie had been good friends - but the woman was a two-timer from the gitgo and he'd done his time for bustin' up the guy he'd caught her with.

Well maybe he'd just keep his gaze down, drink his water, and ease on out before she noticed. But dam - that fiddler is very good. If I just had a guitar - And it's really a nice place. Not fancy - but worn smooth and clean. Maybe - just maybe - - - -