Bad Day at Grand Junction

GRAND JUNCTION, Colorado (AP) -- It was just another hot, sleepy morning in this little Colorado mining town. Jake Barnes was sweeping the dust off the boardwalk in front of the Grand Vista Hotel, and Bill Boyd, the saloon keeper, was washing glasses inside. Sam Walker, mayor, county assayer, and editor of the Daily Sentinel, all rolled into one rotund, balding, middle-aged businesman, was sitting on a chair outside his newspaper office. He was squinting into the bright sun as he looked down an empty street. Just sitting all peaceful-like, watching and waiting for some news to happen.

And, also as usual, the same bored idlers were lounging around the train station, just loafing and talking and watching for the daily 11:50 from Frisco to come thundering into town. Once in a blue moon, some dandy from the Coast would get off in Grand Junction. That was always good for a chuckle, they thought, something new to talk about over beer later that night.

But today, Mr. Walker really should have gotten off that chair and strolled on over to the station if he was out after news. Today, the usual noisy crowd had grown suddenly silent, not a sound to be heard except for the mournful sound of a harmonica some boy was playing softly in the background. Because this morning, some other men -- not just the customary loafers, talkers and watchers -- had just showed up at the station. Sober men. Men also anxious for the Frisco train.

U.S. Marshals. Tough hombres in dark suits, their stetsons pulled down low over their faces, shielding their eyes.

They were waiting for Norman Hsu, an outlaw wanted out on the Coast for fraud. A bail jumper. A fugitive from justice. "Well, golly jimminy," one bystander muttered, spitting onto the tracks, "guess there ain't no one in America, even here in Grand Junction, that ain't heard of Mr. Hsu by now."

A telegraph had reached the stationmaster ahead of the train -- Hsu was on the train, and Hsu was sick. He'd be getting off in Grand Junction.

The feds were waiting for him.

The 11:50 from Frisco pulled in and shuddered to a stop. One door opened, and a sallow face appeared, eyes blinking in the mid-day heat. Mr. Hsu. Mr. Hsu felt a powerful lot sicker when he saw the U.S. Marshal and his deputies waiting as he stumbled down off the train. As he stepped off, he found himself looking down the barrels of several drawn six-shooters.

The game was up, that was for sure. The dapper little man didn't have any fight left in him. Two deputies grabbed him by each shoulder, and bundled him onto a waiting wagon. They hauled him off, down the dusty county road, to St. Mary's Hospital. He remains in St. Mary's today, in federal custody.

As soon as he gets well, Norman Hsu can enjoy another train ride. Right out of these parts and right back to California. They've got a courtroom waiting out there for Mr. Hsu.

And Sam Walker? The mayor, assayer, editor? Well, he half-way dozed himself right through all the excitement. He never did get the story that made his little town famous, coast to coast. He had to read all about it himself, as it came into his office -- off the AP news wire.

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DISCLAIMER: The foregoing post is fiction. It was intended as humor. The arrest of Norman Hsu was a real event. The event has been presented to readers in the form of a parody, an attempt to imitate in journalistic prose the style of a classic Western film. ["Bad Day at Black Rock" starring Spencer Tracy.] The illustration is a still taken from that movie. (© 1955 MGM) Aside from Mr. Hsu, none of the characters depicted above is real or is based on any actual person. Any resemblance to any real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Some place names are real, based on the author's cursory search of the internet. Places so named in no way correspond in reality to the physical descriptions presented in the post. No offense has been intended to the fine people of Grand Junction. The people of Grand Junction speak standard, literate English. They spit no more frequently than citizens of Seattle or San Francisco. Perhaps less than San Francisco. Grand Junction is a modern American city with shopping malls and fast food outlets and excellent high schools. Its streets are paved and do not have boardwalks. The Daily Sentinel is a modern, professionally staffed newspaper. Other apologies will be supplied upon demand. No animals were harmed in the writing of this post. "There ain't nothing more to write about, and I am rotten glad of it, because if I'd a knowed what a trouble it was to make a book I wouldn't a tackled it, and ain't a-going to no more." --Mark Twain