Other Worlds Austin presents the Texas premiere of DOE, Wednesday, October 17 (7:30PM) at Flix Brewhouse as the last film in OWA’s 2018 Orbiter Screening Series. Director Justin Foia will be in attendance and will do a Q&A after the film.
Get your tickets HERE.
Facebook Event Page HERE.
In this thriller, a man (Timothy Davis) wakes up with no memory of his past but the ability to speak dozens of languages fluently. After starting a family with his new wife Rachel (Tatyana Ali), he uncovers a startling clue about his former self, and with the aid of his private detective brother-in-law (Mathew St. Patrick) he will race against time to discover his true identity and the clandestine villain (Mira Sorvino) responsible.
Other Worlds Founder and Artistic Director Bears Rebecca Fonté spins a tale of amnesia set in the Old West. Enjoy Part Two, then reserve your tickets for the Texas premiere of DOE.
Old West Forgotten, Part Two
Read Part One Here.
I woke up early with the first band of light in the east, and continued down the road I had started. Lord above I wish I had a horse. Why didn’t I have a horse, actually? Why would I be out here in the desert without a horse? Maybe who ever knocked me out took my horse.
After what must have been about four hours (someone must have stolen my pocket watch too), I saw a town in the distance. A sign declared it BISHOP’S CITY, but my arrival revealed very little evidence of a priest, let alone a bishop. Townspeople peered out from windows, whispered to each other, shop openers closed their doors, it was as if the town was living under quarantine.
One old-timer looked at me a little too long so I thought I might try him. “Where can a fellow get a drink in town?” I asked. The man spit his tobacco to the ground and pointed to the saloon across the street. I nodded and headed that way.
Inside RUSSELL’S SALOON, I found every eye on me, watching my every step toward the bar. Every eye, that is, except the bartender, who kept his distance and gazed at the floorboards. “Whiskey” I called and laid my revolver on the bar.
The bartender, Russell I assumed, made his way over with a bottle and poured a generous glass. I reached into my pocket to pay the man but he waved me off. “Please, on the house,” he said. He watched me down the whiskey and rushed to refill my glass. “You’re him, aren’t you?” he asked. I stared at him, not giving any suggestion that I had no idea if I was or not. He continued, “you have to forgive everyone, all of Bishop’s City is terrified after what happened in Farrow’s Pass.”
“Yeah, I heard about that,” I said, hoping that wouldn’t prevent him from saying anything else.
“But you’re here to help us, so the whiskey is free, just as long as your hands don’t quiver when you shoot.”
Russell seemed to know me, or at least of me, so maybe I would be able to get more out of him. “Much appreciated,” I said and downed another whiskey. I turned and looked at the patrons of the saloon, every one of them watching me.
A little boy rushed through the swinging doors and stopped dead in his tracks. His mother came in after him and tried to pull him back but it was too late, he ran to my side. “Can I touch it?” he asked. I looked at my Colt on the bar but the boy pointed to my chest, “the star?”
I looked down to my torn and weathered vest, and for the first time, noticed the shiny metal star pinned to it.
The boy’s mother pulled him back, “I’m sorry about him.”
Unfastening the star, I glanced at it, reading clearly SHERIFF. I handed it to the boy. “Now you be careful with that,” I said, “or else I’ll have to put you in the jail.” I flashed the mother a million-dollar smile. “Where is the jail, actually?” I asked.
The whole saloon laughed, breaking the tension. Finally, the men went back to their drinking, their gambling, their whoring. Russell handed me a set of keys. “Last sheriff left these in my charge until you arrived.”
I took the keys, asking “headed back east?”
“Shot and killed a few years ago.”
The boy’s mother spoke up, “That’s why we sent for you. With what happened in Farrow’s Pass we knew we needed an angel.”
I smiled at her, she was quite a beauty. Too delicate a flower to be this far from civilization. “Does your son want to come see the jail?”
“Oh, he’s my brother,” she said quickly, as I retrieved my sheriff’s star, “our father… he…”
A dirty, burly bloke got up from a card game and came over toward the bar, “he’ll be right back, isn’t that right, Daisy?” He laughed. Daisy grabbed her brother and moved him away from this insensitive asshole.
“Leave her alone, O’Rourke,” Russell called out. Daisy had her brother out the door before O’Rourke could utter another word. I turned back to Russell. He confided, “her father owned the hotel but went back to the city for supplies and never returned. If she didn’t own the roof over her head I’m sure she’d have to take in one of these scoundrels in here just to get by.”
“You married?” I asked him.
“I done already asked her, but she says she needs her father’s blessing. Damn shame though. She’s the finest flower in town and ain’t yet been picked, I reckon.”
I took another shot of whiskey and headed out, sliding a coin to Russell against his wishes. “I suppose I need a place to stay tonight, I assume there are rooms at the hotel?”
Russell laughed, and toasted me with his bottle, but O’Rourke was sure to give me a glare as I passed his game.