Dead Man Page #2

I want that bastard's head.

And make sure you include

a full description of my pinto.

I want that horse back.

Goddamn pinto is a stupid damn animal.

Stupid as the day

is long.

Got his heart so set on one.

Buy yourself a sorrel horse...

and paint some white spots on him

as far as I'm concerned.

Jesus Christ.

Course, ya can't put much stock

in a man who spends the most

part of a conversation...

talkin' to a bear.

Talkin'

to a goddamn bear.

The round stones

beneath the earth...

have spoken

through the fire.

What?

Things which are alike,

in nature, grow to look alike,

and the speaking stones have lain

a long time lookin' at the sun.

The speaking stones?

Some believe

they descend with the lightning,

but I believe they are on the ground

and are projected downward by the bolt.

Did you kill the white man

who killed you?

I'm not dead.

What name were you given

at birth, stupid white man?

Blake.

William Blake.

Is this a lie?

Or a white man's trick?

No, I'm William Blake.

Then you are a dead man.

I'm sorry. I d...

I don't understand.

Is your name really

William Blake?

Yes.

Every night...

and every morn',

some to misery

are born.

Every morn'

and every night,

some are born

to sweet delight.

Some are born

to sweet delight.

Some are born

to endless night.

I really

don't understand.

But I understand,

William Blake.

You were a poet

and a painter.

And now, you are

a killer of white men.

You must rest now,

William Blake.

Some are born

to sweet delight.

Some are born

to endless night.

Makin' biscuits, Mommy.

Sweetheart.

You didn't touch it,

did you?

- Huh?

- No.

- You swear to me.

- I swear.

Swear to me you're

tellin' the truth.

Yes, I swear I'm

tellin' the truth.

Not a goddamn word

to no one, ever.

You understand?

Don't ever ask me

no questions.

Where are we?

You are being followed,

William Blake.

Are you sure?

I mean, how do you know?

Often the evil stench

of white man precedes him.

Why don't we, uh...

Maybe we should, uh...

What should we do?

The eagle never lost so much

time as when he submitted

to learn from the crow.

Ever wish you were the moon?

Geez, my Henry's cold.

Aw, come on!

My britches been open

like that how long?

Only been ridin' a couple

of days together, but Jesus,

one of you fellas could've

mentioned the fact that...

Unsaddle

your goddamn horses.

Unsaddle

your goddamn horse.

Go on.

- Geez.

- An Injun dug this fire pit.

Oh.

Oh, an Indian.

We ain't trackin' no goddamn

Injuns, Cole. I mean, uh,

hell, Dickinson didn't say nothin'

about trackin' no goddamn Injuns.

I mean, the boy's name

is William Blake.

You know a lotta Indians, do ya,

named William Blake? I mean,

"Howdy, Chief Billy..."

D'you hear somethin'?

Huh?

- Did ya?

- No. No.

I guess it was nothin'.

You know about Wilson?

- What?

- Do you know about Cole Wilson?

What kinda question is that?

'Course I know about Cole Wilson.

Everybody knows about him.

He's a livin' legend.

F***ed his parents.

- He what?

- He f***ed his parents.

- Both of 'em?

- Yeah.

Mother. Father. Parents.

Both of 'em. F***ed 'em.

Oh.

And you know

what I heard?

After he killed 'em,

he cooked 'em up and ate 'em.

Are you telling me

he killed both his pa...

I'm tellin' you

he killed 'em. He f***ed 'em.

He cooked 'em up. He ate 'em.

He ain't got a goddamn conscience.

You understand what I'm sayin'?

He'd just as soon slit

our goddamn throats in the

middle of the night as walk.

Course, someone

your age, Jesus,

if you was

to put one in him...

"Johnny 'The Kid' Pickett

Slays Cole Wilson."

William Blake,

do you know how

to use this weapon?

- Not really.

- That weapon will replace your tongue.

You will learn

to speak through it,

and your poetry

will now be written with blood.

What is your name?

My name is Nobody.

- Excuse me?

- My name is Exaybachay.

He Who Talks Loud,

Saying Nothing.

He Who Talks...

I thought you said

your name was Nobody.

I prefer

to be called Nobody.

Nobody?

Um, shouldn't you be

with your own tribe or somethin'?

My blood is mixed.

My mother was

Ohm gahpi phi gun ni.

My father is

Abso luka.

This mixture

was not respected.

As a small boy,

I was often left

to myself.

So I spent many months

stalking the elk people...

to prove I would soon

become a good hunter.

One day, finally,

my elk relatives took pity on me,

and a young elk

gave his life to me.

With only my knife,

I took his life.

As I was preparing to cut the meat,

white men came upon me.

They were English soldiers.

I cut one with my knife, but they

hit me on the head with a rifle.

All went black.

My spirit seemed

to leave me.

I was then taken east...

in a cage.

I was taken to Toronto,

then Philadelphia...

and then to New York.

And each time I arrived

in another city,

somehow the white men

had moved...

all their people there

ahead of me.

Each new city contained

the same white people as the last,

and I could not understand

how a whole city of people...

could be moved

so quickly.

Eventually, I was

taken on a ship...

across the great sea...

over to England,

and I was paraded

before them...

like a captured animal,

an exhibit.

And so I mimicked them,

imitating their ways,

hoping that they might lose interest

in this young savage,

but their interest

only grew.

So they placed me into

the white man's schools.

It was there

that I discovered...

in a book...

the words that you,

William Blake, had written.

They were powerful words,

and they spoke to me.

But I made careful plans,

and I eventually escaped.

Once again, I crossed

the great ocean.

I saw many sad things...

as I made my way back

to the lands of my people.

Once they realized

who I was,

the stories of my adventures

angered them.

They called me a liar.

"Exaybachay."

He Who Talks Loud, Saying Nothing.

They ridiculed me.

My own people.

And I was left to wander

the earth alone.

I am Nobody.

Ain't ya glad the sun

kind of sets? Prepares you like?

I mean, what if it, like, went

out sudden, like, say, blowin'

out a candle or somethin'?

I mean... You know, one minute

we're ridin' along, we can

see everything and each other...

and, boom, the next minute is just...

you're in total darkness.

That'd scare

the bejesus outta me.

Once upon a time,

there were three bears in the forest.

A big bear,

a medium mommy bear...

and a tiny

little baby bear.

One mornin', they were gonna eat

their breakfast porridge.

They had a big bowl,

a medium bowl and a tiny little bowl.

That porridge was too hot.

Stupid white man.

- So they went to take a walk.

- William Blake, you go to them.

- Along came this girl. She was...

- What?

Alone? Why don't we

just go around them?

No!

You go.

It's a test.

I don't know those people,

and they don't look very friendly.

- What if they kill me?

- Nobody will observe.

She got sleepy, and she

went into their bedroom.

- There was a big bed, a medium

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