Interview with a Cowpoke Riding in a Posse (Excerpt)

….Funion: Now, Mr. Johnson, I just finished your book, which I love by the way. I have to ask: what are the major influences behind your writing style? Where did you pick up such a succinct, individual second-person voice?

Cowpoke: OOOoooo WEE boys! We got ‘em on the slide now, yes we do! Bobby! Bobby. Where in the hell’s bells is that bo—oh Bobby, there you are. Good. Now listen, hear? You ride on back to Hadleyville and get Pepper Joe and Sam Waters and the marshal, don’t forget the marshal, too. I want to see you fly boy. I want you riding faster than a jackrabbit’s pecker at high moon. Go on now, get! What’s that? I told you what to do boy and you better get on and do it. Right as my left elbow. You ain’t but sixteen, son, they’ll be plenty a’more posses for ya. Sure as I’m breathin’. I’m going to send Frank and Jimmy around that steppe there and me and the rest will circle ‘em down at the pass. We need that marshal’s big-balled Peacemaker all right—cut those turd cows in half. And we need Pepper Joe’s rope. Now get!

Funion: Interesting. I take it that wasn’t something you acquired, it was just a natural voice for you?

Cowpoke: [Sound of hoofbeats]

Funion. That’s what I thought. Fascinating. Well, what struck me most about your book was the use of light imagery. Very subtle, very controlled. Especially in the jailbreak scene—the figures coming out of light, moving into dark, moving into shadow. There is a sense there, I guess, of imprisonment in life. Life in general, in its totality. The jail is lit, the night is moonless. Very profound, I thought. Any comments?

Cowpoke: Will you look at that! Sonuvasteer’sdick! Look at those rustlers move! Riding for keeps, they is. Keep those six-shooters smokin’ boys, we don’t ketch ‘em at the opening there we’ll lose ‘em for the night. That’s for sure. Where is that cabbage-headed boy, Bobby? GAAAAWD-damn! That boy's a turkey gullet. Looks like we’re by our lonesome’s boys, keep those sixers loaded, keep ‘em hot. Lordy, my crotch is burnin'--like a limestone on the sierra at noon. It's baking all-right. But I ain't lettin' Frank Miller get us beat. No sir. That lowdown rustlin', high brow cussin', ankle-bitting, shoulder scrappin', head boppin', steer's ass wrapped in butterscotch cream son of a snakeskin ain't makin' it out of Hadleyville again! Did you get a sight of Cap Johnson's face? Did ya see what the man did to it? Made it look like a baby's bottom after a hot springs soak! No sir. He and his boys ain't a goin' to make it now, no way.

Funion: Oh, my. That's right! I had never seen that connection before-- between the jail break sequence and the final scene...truly fascinating. Well, I'm a huge fan, as you can probably tell. Thank you so much for sitting down with me Mr. Johnson. 

Cowpoke: Mary Lincoln Todd and the Pope's Nose! We've been had boys! That ain't Frank Miller a'tal just came out of the pass. By the holy ghost's yellow belly, where'd that rustler go? There ain't but two ways outta there and we just as well took the one. That is daring, boys. I'll give him that. No two ways around it. Daring for sure. Sure as I'm plum drunk. Let's make it back, this posse ain't a going to make no purchase tonite, riding in the black. Better go on and tell the Marshal we been--what in hell? Frank Miller is that yo---