August 2019 - One small step ...

Subject: August 2019 - One small step ... Thu Aug 01, 2019 11:07 am

Now, I don't know about all you ladies, but I have really been enjoying the spate of documentaries commemorating the first moon landings...

So, I thought about 'Moon' … but we have already had Moonlight as a Challenge...
I thought about 'A giant leap' … but we have already had 'Making the leap..'

D'you know what … we have had a NORful lot of challenges - good job I keep a list

Anyhow,

For August, please seed your fertile minds with;

"One small step"

and, type...

Posts : 41 Join date : 2013-12-08 Age : 64 Location : USA

This is admittedly a borrowed (some law-abiding types might say stolen...) scenario, with even a bit of borrowed (see previous) dialogue, so it shouldn't be included in the polling... However, please imagine a slightly less lethal-looking precipice than featured in the original...

"One Small Step"

“C’mon, Kid! It’s just one small step!”

“One small step?? Looks more like one giant leap to me! If it’s such a small step, then you go first.”

Heyes raked his fingers through the shaggy hair that had flopped onto his forehead, took a steady breath, and set his jaw with a determined look.

“We’ll go together, then,” he pronounced.

The Kid peered over the edge at the rushing river below – far below – then turned back to his partner in disbelief.

“Maybe they’ll follow the horses?” Curry suggested, grasping at straws. “We can just sit tight right here ‘til they go away.”

After hours being hounded by a relentless posse, led by Marshall Will Miller, aka "Killer Miller," the partners had set the horses loose about a mile back, sending them down a bend in the trail with sharp slaps to their rumps. Then they slipped through the trees along a game path. But after a while, the path dwindled to nothing and when they emerged from the vegetation onto the rocky edge of a sheer cliff face, they knew theyd picked a dead end. That's where they were now crouched, debating their options.

Before Heyes could respond, the unmistakable sounds of pounding hoofbeats and shouting men could be heard through the trees, coming closer and closer. A gruff, too-familiar voice rang out, “This way boys! They’re on foot!”

In perfect unison, Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry looked at each other, then down at the water swirling below, then over their shoulders toward the sound of the approaching posse, then back to each other.

“It’ll be okay, Kid,” Heyes assured his partner, “If the water’s deep enough, and we don’t get squished to death -- they’ll never follow us.”

“How do you know?”

“Would you make a jump like that if you didn’t have to?”

“I have to, and I ain't gonna.”

“We got to. Otherwise we’re dead. Don't forget who's leading that posse. They don't call him Killer Miller for nothing! He tends to lean more toward the “dead” side of “dead or alive.”

With a crack of breaking branches, the leading rider emerged through the edge of the trees, pulled his mount up short, and shouldered his rifle. Miller chuckled to himself triumphantly as he took aim at his prey, watching them slowly turn to face him as they rose from their crouched positions. The pair began to raise their hands, also very slowly. Miller was enjoying this. Who would have thought he’d be the one to finally bring in Heyes and Curry? But before he could even have the satisfaction of saying a single word, the two men suddenly whirled around, grabbed each other’s arms and disappeared!

“What the—”

Miller quickly lowered his rifle, dismounted, and strode to the edge of the cliff, where he stood peering down into the frothing water below. Behind him he heard the rest of the posse arrive and dismount, horses huffing and men muttering to each other as they joined him at the brink of the precipice.

“Where’d they go?” asked more than one.

Subject: Re: August 2019 - One small step ... Fri Aug 23, 2019 9:58 am

“No good deed goes unpunished, Curry,” the sheriff sneered as he swung the heavy iron cell door shut with an oppressive clank. He secured the lock and put the keys in his chest pocket with a flourish.

A resigned sigh escaped from the Kid’s lips despite his best efforts to ignore the taunt. His eyes scanned the small cage noting the lumpy, stained mattress dressed with a thin, tattered blanket and no pillow before they came to rest on a none-too-clean pail tucked into one corner. The cell next door was even worse.

“You would’ve gotten clean away if’n you hadn’t pulled up like that,” continued the portly lawman as he went to his desk and sat down. Settling in comfortably, he leaned back and crossed his boots, resting them up on a corner of the scarred surface while studying his famed prisoner. He and the missus sure were going to enjoy spending that ten grand. They’d get themselves outta this hellhole backwater and maybe get them a place on the beach in San Francisco, watch the tall ships come in and out of the harbor. He smiled contentedly and leaned further back.

Bedsprings squealed as Curry sat down on the protesting bunk facing his jailer, his penetrating blue eyes drilling into the sheriff’s pale gray ones. “You sayin’ I shoulda run down that woman and her boy?”

“Why not?” shrugged the older man. “Wouldn’t be the first time you killed in cold blood now would it?”

There was no point in continuing the conversation as far as the Kid was concerned. He lay down and stared at the cracked ceiling. He’d never be able to convince the sheriff he had a strong moral code when it came to killing and had never killed except in self-defense. His widespread notoriety had destroyed any chance he’d ever had of explaining.

“Guess you and Heyes ain’t as tight as folks say you are. He never broke stride when you stopped. Nosiree, left you in the dust, he did.”

The Kid ignored him. He knew Heyes would circle back and bust him out. All he had to do was be patient and keep his mouth shut. Two things he was very, very good at.

“Ain’t no honor amongst thieves, that’s what my mama used to say. Yep, Heyes is probably in some saloon by now whoopin’ it up with the rest of the gang.” The gray eyes narrowed watching Curry and hoping for a reaction. Not receiving one, the lawman prattled on. “What does he care you might hang?” He gloated at the tiny fraction of a flinch he detected. “That’s right, boy, folks ‘round here work hard for their money. Banks don’t print their own cash, you know, it’s the sweat of good people that fills their coffers and right now those same good people are thinkin’ up ways to break in here and stretch that skinny neck of yours. Who knows, I just might let ‘em do it.”

“You mind piping down, Sheriff? I’d like to get some shuteye.”

“Shuteye? Ha. You ain’t hearin’ what I’m sayin’, Curry. You might just be gettin’ all the shuteye you need soon and your partner don’t give a damn.”

“I heard you.” Heyes would be coming up with a scheme right now. The Kid hoped he kept it simple. The sooner the better if this chatty sheriff didn’t clam up.

“How’d you two partner up, anyways?”

The Kid laced his hands behind his head and thought back to those hot, dusty days of his childhood. He and Heyes had been normal kids, no different from the other farmers’ sons they’d grown up with in rural Kansas. Full of mischief and high spirits. Then the war had come along and none of them had been normal after that. He and Heyes had ended up in an orphanage fighting to survive amongst a whole bunch of angry, deprived kids. It had changed them a lot. They’d learned how to fight back, how to win the upper hand by force or by wit; they’d learned that authority wasn’t always for the good of the many; they’d learned that you had to stand up for yourself and take what you needed.
Little had they known they’d had it better than others with a roof over their heads and three squares. Then they’d aged out of the orphanage and onto the street. Everyone’d been starvin’ for food and work. They’d tried begging at first but it hadn’t taken them long to figure out no one was gonna help two scrawny boys who could barely pull their weight. At the time, it’d only seemed like one small step across the line between honesty and stealing. Heck, it hadn’t been a step at all; he and Heyes had literally plunged headlong right over that line.

“Ain’t talkin’, huh? Well, I guess you’re right pissed Heyes rode off and left you. I know I’d be. All that time you bein’ his hired gun and keepin’ him safe and he ups and dumps your ass.”

Curry shifted onto his side, turning his back to the sheriff. If only he could plug his ears like a schoolboy. Heyes better hurry it up.

A light knock tapped on the door distracting both men.

“’Bout time that little gal brought my dinner,” the sheriff grumbled as he swung his feet off the desk and stood up, stretching his back. He sniffed appreciatively as the fragrant scent of lamb stew permeated the planked door. “Sorry, Curry, I didn’t have time to send out for somethin’ for you what with all the excitement of the robbery n’ all.” He crossed to the door and paused with his hand on the butt of his six-gun. “That you, Maisie? What took you so long, girl?”

“Sick,” replied a strangely hoarse feminine voice.

The hungry lawman pulled open the door as he said, “Well, come on in outta the cold and…,” only to find the barrel of Heyes’ own gun pointed right between his eyes.

The dimpled, dark-haired man pushed through the entrance forcing the sheriff to step back quickly. “That’s right friendly of you, Sheriff! Why don’t you have a seat and rest a spell?”

“What took you so long?” asked the Kid, standing up and grabbing the bars to his cell door.

Surprised, Heyes looked up and grinned, “I had to pick up dinner.”

Another, much shorter man stepped inside the office behind Heyes holding a bowl of stew. “Howdy Kid. Heyes n’ me figured you’d be a might peaked by now.”

“Thanks Kyle,” replied the Kid. “Pass that through, will you? We ain’t got much time.”

Kyle slid the bowl through the small opening in the bottom of the door and turned away to take over tying up the sheriff while Heyes searched the man for the keys to the cells. Curry picked up his dinner and began to wolf it down, chewing quickly as he watched his friends.

“You ain’t gettin’ away with this, Heyes. I’ll have a posse on you so fast your head’ll spin clear ‘round,” sputtered the lawman as his face grew redder and redder. Heyes plucked the keys from the sheriff’s shirt pocket and went to release his partner.

“I’m tellin’ you, you’re dead meat, Heyes. You and that baby-faced partner of yours.”

Kyle chuckled at the threat.

“You too, you little…ow!”

With a hard yank, Kyle finished securing the sheriff to his desk chair. Satisfied with his handiwork, he seized the back of the chair and dragged it into the empty cell next to the Kid’s just as Heyes unlocked the iron door holding his partner captive. Curry stepped out.

“Hold on,” said the Kid to his friends as they crossed to the front door. He reached up and untied the sweaty bandanna hanging around his neck. Balling it up, he went into the other cell while the sheriff spewed a steady stream of profanities.

“I’ll get you three, sure as my name is…agh, ugh…” the dingy cloth plugged up the lawman’s next words as the Kid shoved it into his mouth.

With a broad grin, Curry pulled the door to the cell shut. “Thanks for the entertainment, Sheriff, but you know what they say…no good deed goes unpunished.”

_________________
*****************

"You can only be young once. But you can always be immature." —Dave Barry

Subject: Re: August 2019 - One small step ... Fri Aug 23, 2019 1:18 pm

One Small Step
By Maz McCoy

“Come on, Heyes, it’s just one small step,” Kid Curry encouraged.
“More like a giant leap,” his partner, countered, grumpily.
“I did it.”
“Yeah, well this thing wasn’t swaying as much then.”
“It’s a moving train, Heyes, what did you expect it to do?” Kid Curry stood, feet apart, on the roof of one of the carriages of the 10.15 train from Rollins’ Junction to Eagle Falls. He did his best to keep his balance and hold onto his hat while encouraging his friend jump the gap between adjacent carriages.
Those same carriages rocked alarmingly back and forth as the train picked up speed heading uphill towards Bryce Gulch. This steep sided ravine was barely wider than the train itself and if the two outlaws did not reach the engine before the train reached the gulch they risked being swept off the roof by over-hanging tree branches or protruding rock formations. They would also not be in a position to stop the train before it exited the gulch, on the other side of which the rest of the Devil’s Hole Gang waited to rob the train and Wheat Carlson would be only too happy to remind Heyes, for the rest of his life, of his failure to bring the engine to a halt.
“C’mon jump!” Kid beckoned, risking a look over his shoulder at the approaching mountains.
“You know maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” Heyes pondered; arms held out at his side as he fought to keep his balance.
“Ya think?” Kid shot his friend an I-told-you-so look.
“Maybe it’s not worth the risk.”
“You thought it was worth it when you planned it,” Kid reminded him. “You thought it was worth the risk just now when you told me to jump.”
“Well, I guess I have a lot to learn about theory and practice.”
“Not the best time to realise that, Heyes.” Kid waved his hands, motioning his friend to cross. “C’mon, or the rocks in that gulch are gonna knock us off this darn thing.”
“That’s not exactly encouraging.”
“Neither’s seeing you standin’ over there. Now, c’mon!”
Hannibal Heyes looked at the gap between the carriages. He could do this. It was just one small step, well, maybe one small jump, but if Kid could do it he could do it.
“Maybe you should take a run at it,” Kid suggested.
Not taking his eyes off the gap and the train tracks rushing beneath the couplings, Heyes nodded. That sounded like a good idea. Yeah, taking a run and jump would be a good idea. In fact he’d love to tell someone to take a run and jump except right now the only one supposed to do that was him. He should have thought of a different plan.
Beneath the couplings the harsh ground of the track continued to rush by and the wind on the roof threatened to knock him off.
“Heyes?”
Heyes looked up and saw the concern in Kid’s eyes. His friend was beginning to doubt he would jump.
“I know you, Heyes, you can do this. You’re the leader of the Devil’s Hole Gang, ain’t nothin’ Hannibal Heyes can’t do when he sets his mind to it.”
Heyes nodded. Kid was right. He was the leader and…Heyes took two steps back and began to run and…..
…Landed on the swaying roof of the next carriage. He lost his footing and was sliding towards the edge of the carriage when two gloved hands caught hold of his shirt and pulled him upright.
“Thanks, Kid.”
Kid Curry did not look pleased. “You know for a minute there I was considerin’ lettin’ you fall.”
“What?”
“We have two more gaps to cross. You gonna jump ‘em first time or are we goin’ through this for each one?”
Heyes saw the anger in those blue eyes. There was only one answer Kid wanted to hear. “I’m gonna jump ‘em,” Heyes assured him.
“Well, you’d better or I swear I’ll tell Kyle, Wheat and the boys what happened up here.”
Heyes’ did his best to look hurt. “That’s not very nice, Kid.”
“Right now I ain’t havin’ nice thoughts, Heyes. C’mon, we got a train to stop.”
With that Kid slapped Heyes firmly on the back and propelled him along the roof of the carriage in the direction of the engine.

_________________
Obstacles are put in our way to see if we really want something or only thought we did: Edison

Subject: ONE SMALL STEP Sun Aug 25, 2019 7:49 pm

As we join our two favorite ex-outlaws, we see that it's just another typical day like so many others they've experienced in the past few years...

When a bullet whizzed past Kid Curry's head, he ducked down even further until he was parallel with his mount's neck. “They're getting' closer!” he shouted to be heard over the pounding hooves. “We're not gonna be able to outrun 'em much longer!”

“We're almost to the mountain!” Hannibal Heyes shouted back.

The two horses continued their breakneck speed until they reached the base of the mountain.

Heyes pulled back on the reins and turned to face his partner. “Stay with me, but keep back a bit,” he cautioned. “I wouldn't want to fall back into you. It looks like it's a pretty steep climb, but it'll even out once we get near the halfway point.”

“Get goin'; I won't be far behind!” Curry kept a sharp lookout over his shoulder for the posse behind them as Heyes began the steep climb. Once he was sure his partner was far enough away, the Kid kneed his mount and urged him forward. “Looks like that posse went the other way!” he called out.

“Good! Let's hope they keep going that way!” Heyes shouted back. “I'm not far from that halfway point.”

“I'm 'bout a quarter of the way up.”

The two ex-outlaws continued to climb the rocky terrain, each concentrating on keeping their horses from slipping back down the mountain and taking their rider with them. It was another fifteen minutes before either spoke.

“I'm here at the halfway point,” Heyes called down to Curry.

The Kid glanced up the slope. “I should be catchin' up to you in 'bout another ten minutes.”

“You want me to wait here?”

“No, you go on ahead an' scout out the area, see if there's someplace we can hunker down for the night 'til we can see if we've lost that posse for good.”

“I'll meet you up top then,” Heyes called back and began the next leg of the journey. The going was much easier now that the ground was at less of a slope and not nearly as rocky. The danger of slipping down the mountainside had decreased to a bare minimum.

As Heyes rounded a curve, he was surprised to find a flat, open area. A slender waterfall cascaded down the mountain wall and emptied into a small watering hole. It was surrounded by a few trees, which provided a bit of shade from the sun. He turned into the area and brought his horse to a stop. “This should do,” he grinned and dismounted.

Heyes pulled the saddle and blanket free from his horse and led it to the water to drink. He grabbed his canteen and filled it from the water coming down the mountain and took a few swallows. Once he had satiated his thirst, he hobbled the horse and threw his bedroll out under the shade of the trees. “Think I'll just stretch out here to wait for the Kid; he shouldn't be much longer.” As his body relaxed, and the tension left his body, his lids shuttered his eyes and, despite his best attempt not to, within moments Heyes had fallen into a deep, much-needed sleep.

Nearly an hour later, abruptly awakened by the shrieking cries of buzzards circling overhead, Heyes sat up, still groggy, and looked around. “Kid?” There was no response. He got to his feet, walked to the edge of the flat area and shaded his eyes to look down the mountain. At first he didn't see anything, but as his eyes continued to scan the area he saw movement and a flash of brown. “That looks like the Kid's horse!” From what Heyes could make out, the animal was riderless.

“Something must've happened!” He made the decision to walk, rather than ride, down the mountain, grabbed his canteen and began the trek downward to find his partner. His boots slipping and sliding on the loose gravel, he was propelled forward by the downward momentum and reached the horse in under ten minutes.

He slowed down and approached the animal with caution. “Hiya boy; where's the Kid?” He kept his voice calm and crept closer until he could grab hold of the bridle. “It's okay, boy, I'm not gonna hurt you...” he soothed. Once the bridle was in his hand, he could reach the reins. He continued to proceed slowly so not to spook the horse. “There you go, now let's get you tied up over by that tree.” Once the animal was secured, he checked it over to see if he could find any clue to what had happened to his rider. Nothing seemed amiss. “I wish you could talk,” he patted the horse absently and walked away.

First Heyes scoured the immediate area, but came up empty-handed. Next he backtracked the way Curry would have ridden and came to a spot where the ground looked different. There was a huge chunk out of the side of the mountain edge and, as he peeked over it, he could see a splash of red color that stood out among the browns and greens of the trees and bushes.

“Kid was wearing a red shirt,” he mused aloud. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he called out, “Kid!” Receiving no response, he tried twice more with the same result. Looking the situation over, he reached a quick conclusion. “I'm gonna have to go down the same way the Kid did. Well, here goes nothing!” Grabbing hold of shrubs and dodging boulders, he made his way down the mountainside. As he drew near to where he had seen the red color, he could see that it was indeed his missing partner and he wasn't moving. From the looks of it, Curry had landed in a crumpled heap next to a large boulder.

Heyes finally reached a place where he could stand upright and ran the rest of the way. It was short work to assess the Kid's condition. Nothing appeared to be broken and the only blood he could see was near Curry's hairline.

“Hey, buddy...” Heyes gripped the Kid by the shoulders and carefully rolled him over. Curry flopped like a rag doll, showing no sign of consciousness. He undid his partner's bandana and got it wet with water from his canteen. He dabbed gently at the Kid's face, then went to work at the jagged gash on his head. As he splashed more water on the bandana, Curry began to stir. When Heyes touched the cloth to the cut, the Kid winced.

“Ow – that hurts!”

“Take it easy. You've had a bad fall and you've got a good-sized cut on your head.”

“Heyes?” Curry groaned and opened his eyes. “What happened?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

The Kid closed his eyes. “I remember ridin' up the mountain...”

When Curry didn't continue, Heyes prompted him. “You were behind me a ways...”

“Yeah,” the Kid nodded. His forehead wrinkled in concentration and he winced. “It hurts to think.”

“Just relax; don't force it, but try to remember.”

Curry took a deep breath and exhaled. “Did my horse fall with me?”

“No, he's safe and sound up top.”

The Kid was silent for a moment. “There was a snake - a rattler - spooked my horse. He reared up an' I slid off backwards. Guess I must've rolled down the hill an' ended up here – wherever that is.”

“That fits with what I found. Other than your head, I can't see anything else wrong. How do you feel? Does anything hurt?”

Curry hesitated before he answered. “Headache.” Then he wiggled his fingers and lifted his arms. Next he tried to sit up. As his boot heels dug into the ground, his features contorted and he cried out. “Ow! There's something wrong with my left foot!”

“Don't move it anymore – let me take a look at it!” Heyes moved down towards the injured appendage. “I'll do it slowly, but I'm going to try and turn it – you tell me when it hurts.”

“Don't worry, I will!”

Heyes lifted the foot, but before he could do more, the Kid cried out again. “That's enough! Don't do anything else!”

Heyes laid the foot down, being careful not to jiggle it in the process. “Well, Kid, it's either a bad sprain or broken. I won't be able to tell which until we get that boot off. Can you wiggle it at all?”

Curry shook his head. “It hurts too much! An' you can't take my boot off!” he protested. “It'll hurt even more! Can't I leave it on at least until we get back up with the horses?”

“I didn't bring my horse,” Heyes answered. “Only your horse is up there, but you've brought up something real important. How are we gonna get you back up top with an injured foot?”

“Very carefully?” the Kid quipped.

Heyes gave him a look. “I'll have to at least try to splint up your foot.” He paused a moment to think. “I can go back up and get the rope; we can tie it under your arms and tie the other end to the saddle and let your horse pull you up.”

“Sounds like a lotta work.”

“I'll be right back.” Heyes gave his friend's shoulder a quick squeeze. “Don't go anywhere.”

“Where would I go?” Curry retorted.

“That's it, Kid; keep up your sense of humor.”

The Kid's answer was an eye roll.

It took Heyes longer to climb up than it had to slide down. By the time he had retrieved the rope and blanket and made the downhill trip again, Curry had beads of perspiration running down in rivulets and his face was scrunched up in pain.

Heyes was quick to take this all in quickly and hurried to his partner's side. “Is it getting worse?”

The Kid nodded. “I tried to get my boot off, but it won't budge. Not to mention that every time I try to move it, even a little, it sends real bad shootin' pains up my whole leg an' I feel like I'm gonna pass out.”

“I wish I had better news to give you, Kid, but from what you're telling me, your foot's broken for sure.”

Curry sighed. “It sure feels like it is.” He looked up. “So how'r we gonna do this?”

“I brought the stuff to splint it up nice and tight. I think I might even strap the injured foot to the top of your good one for extra support.”

“Whatever you think is best.”

Heyes set to work. It wasn't long before he had the patient ready to transport. “You'll need to fold your arms across your chest so you won't get hung up on anything. I'll help get you on this blanket and tie it around you – that should make it easier to slide up the mountain.” He stepped back. “How's that feel?”

“Like I'm some kinda mummy,” Curry grumbled. “It's hot in here, too!”

“As long as you stay that way, you won't end up like a real mummy!” Heyes retorted with a grin. “Better give me your hat. I'm going back up top. I'll yell to let you know when it's time to start pulling you up.”

“I can hardly wait',” Curry grumbled.

Heyes made his way to the ledge, got the horse and tied the rope to the pommel. “Okay, Kid, hold on tight!”

Curry squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself for the ordeal ahead.

Heyes slapped the horse's rump and guided the rope the best he could through the obstacle course of bushes and rocks to minimize the chances of the Kid getting snagged or running into them. Finally, he could see the top of Curry's head as he crested the edge. Heyes grabbed hold of the blanket and helped tug it over the edge. He pulled back on the rope to stop the horse. “You okay?” he queried as he knelt down next to his friend.

“My foot hurts like a herd of beeves trampled it, but we made it.”

“Next thing is we've got to get you up on your horse. I'm thinking it would be better if you laid across the saddle. It'll be less stress on your foot, too.”

“Whatever you say, Heyes,” Curry answered wearily.

“C'mon, let's get you unwrapped and up there.” Heyes brought the horse as close as possible, then bent down to help his partner.

It took a lot of maneuvering and some clever strategy, along with brute strength to accomplish Heyes' plan, but finally Curry was successfully across the horse's back, albeit a bit uncomfortable. Heyes led the horse by the bridle to have more control and soon he had them all back in the makeshift camp. He helped the Kid down from his perch, holding Curry's injured leg as he slid down so that it wouldn't touch the ground.

Both men were panting heavily; they took a few moments to catch their breath.

“Lean on me and try to hold your bad foot off the ground. Bend your knee so that your foot's back behind you.”

Curry did as instructed, his arm slung around Heyes' shoulders. He bit down hard on his lip but, in the end, he couldn't force himself to move. “Sorry, Heyes - it hurts even worse than before - I don't think I can!”

“You're doing fine, Kid. We'll just take it real slow, one small step, a little at a time. Hop on your good foot...c'mon, I know you can do it!”

Beads of perspiration had appeared again on Curry's face. His skin was pallid and his blue eyes were clouded with pain. “Whatever you say, Heyes!” he ground out and took a deep, fortifying breath. Putting all his effort into it, he hopped several times and finally reached the blanket underneath the trees.

Heyes helped lower his partner to a sitting position, then stood up, mopping his brow with his bandana. He handed Curry the canteen. “Here, bet you're thirsty after all that hard work.”

“That's an understatement!” Taking the canteen, he drank down a few swallows.

Heyes eased himself down next to him. “Now comes the really hard part. We have to get that boot off your foot.”

Curry halted in mid-drink and lowered the canteen. “But I already told you-”

“We're not gonna do it your way, we're gonna do it my way. It has to be cut off.”

“Cut off?” the Kid echoed, eyes wide. “But these are practically brand new! I jus' got 'em-”

“I know when you got 'em, I was with you, remember?” He gave his partner a sympathetic look. “I'll use my knife; you just lie back and close your eyes. That way you don't have to watch.”

With a last forlorn look at his boot, Curry reluctantly eased himself backwards and stared up at the sky.

“I'm sorry, Kid, but your foot's gonna keep swelling, and if we don't get it off there could be complications worse than losing a boot.”

“Quit talkin' an' jus' do it!” Curry snapped.

Once the boot was off and the Kid's sock was removed, Heyes whistled.

“What?” The Kid tried to sit up. “Let me see-”

“You don't need to see!” Heyes pushed him back down. “You've got one colorful humdinger of a broken foot - I can tell by the way it's twisted. We need to get you to a doctor as soon as possible.”

“How? I barely made it here!”

Heyes thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers. “I'll wrap your boot back around your foot – it's cut so it'll be real loose. Then I'll splint it, cut up one of our shirts, tie it around the splint, then wrap it with some rope. It'll be real bulky, but you should be able to survive the trip down the mountain and into town.”

“Who's shirt?” Curry groused. “An' if by town you mean that one that we jus' skedaddled outta, then it's not one of your better plans!”

After only a brief hesitation, Heyes folded his arms across his chest. “My shirt – you've suffered enough of a loss already. And, as far as the town is concerned, we'll go in the opposite direction. Satisfied?”

“Only if you promise you'll take me to get a new pair of boots.”

Heyes bit back a grin. “Okay – as soon as the doc says you can put one on your foot. Deal?”

The Kid propped himself up on his elbows and grinned. “Deal.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

The next afternoon found the pair riding into the town of Cripple Springs. They glanced at the name on the sheriff's office as they rode by and shared a relieved look.

“So far, so good,” Heyes muttered. “Looks like we're in luck.”

The duo passed the saloon, the mercantile, the livery stable and finally came to a building with a placard which read, “Doctor Joseph Marten.”

“C'mon, let's get you inside.” Heyes dismounted and wrapped his reins around the hitching post. “Bet you're good and ready to get your foot fixed up, huh?” Receiving no answer, Heyes turned to find his partner staring behind them at something across the street, a Cheshire Cat grin on his face. He glanced in that direction, but didn't see anything amusing. His brow furrowed, he went to stand by his partner. “What's so funny, Kid?”

“You're not gonna believe it.” Curry pointed to one of the buildings. “It's a sign, Heyes.”

“'One Small Step Shoestore*; We Have Boots & Shoes For Feet Of Any Size,'” Heyes read aloud. His grin even bigger than the Kid's, he added, “Well, how about that!?”

*~*~*~*~*~*

* STORY NOTE: While pondering possible scenarios for the prompt, I googled the phrase, One small step, figuring I'd get all kinds of things relating to the lunar landing. I did. However, nestled among them were a few that referenced a shoestore called, One Small Step, which is based in Hamilton, Ontario, Canada. One can also find books, board games, step stools, and even a Christmas ornament sold under that name. The most intriguing one to me was a 2018 movie about a girl who dreamed of becoming an astronaut. Who knew?

_________________
writing

"My task, which I am trying to achieve is, by the power of the written word, to make you hear, to make you feel -- it is, before all, to make you see..." ~~ Joseph Conrad ~~

Subject: Re: August 2019 - One small step ... Wed Aug 28, 2019 6:03 pm

“Your move.”

“I know. I’m thinking.”

Tom released an impatient sigh. “Well, think faster, will you? We ain’t got all day.”

His friend, Billy, scowled at him across the game board. “Chess is harder’n it looks. I still don’t see why you think we got to learn it. Ain’t checkers good enough for you?”

“Checkers is fine if’n all you want to do with your life is eat dust on a cattle drive.”

“I still don’t see how playing this high-falutin’ game is gonna help us be better lawman,” Billy complained. “Time’s better spent practicing your quick draw, if’n you’re gonna bring in the big-name outlaws.”

“Sheriff Trevors plays chess. He says it’s better’n checkers, because in chess, you got to think at least three moves ahead. He says you learn strategy and tactics, and that’s what you need to outthink the outlaws.” He looked at the board again. “So are you plannin’ to make a move today or not?”

Billy pushed his chair back and stood up. “Not. I’d sooner get on with all the filin’ than give myself a headache over this.” He waved his arm at the piles of paper on the desk. “Though I got to admit, I never knew being a deputy meant so much paperwork.”

“Let’s forget about this game then, alright?” At a nod from Billy, Tom started picking up the chess pieces and putting them neatly away. “We ought to get this paperwork done before the sheriff gets back from lunch with Miss Porter.”

“He’s having lunch with Miss Porter? We got plenty of time to finish up this paperwork then. She’s a looker.” He folded up the chess board and handed it over to his friend.

“You ain’t just whistlin’ dixie. Good-lookin’, rich, and not married.”

“Yeah, I guess – “ both young men turned when they heard the front door to the sheriff’s office open.

“Can I . . . “Tom gulped. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Can I help you . . . gentlemen?” He looked over to Billy, who was similarly taken aback.

Two men, weary and trail-worn, their clothes covered in dust and wearing six-guns tied down low on their thighs, stepped into the room.

“We’re looking for Sheriff Trevors,” the dark-haired one said.

“He ain’t here right now,” Tom said. The strangers looked at him curiously, and then looked around the office and jail area.

“So it seems. Where is he?”

“He went out for lunch.”

“Where?” the blue-eyed man asked. His stance was familiar to Tom from all the dime novels he’d read. The man was a gunfighter; Tom knew it. And he knew if a gunfighter was looking for the sheriff, then there was real trouble coming.

“To the restaurant.”

“The one two blocks over?” the gunfighter asked. “With the lace curtains?”

Tom nodded.

The men turned to leave. At the door, the gunfighter looked back at the motionless young men.

“Where’s Deputy Harker?”

“I’m Deputy Harker,” Tom said.

“No. You’re not,” the dark one said. “Not by about 40 years.”

“That’s his grandfather,” Billy blurted. “He’s retired. Tom and me, we’re the deputies now.”

The strangers exchanged a quick glance. “Sheriff needs two deputies now, huh? Must be expecting trouble.”

“Town’s growing,” Tom said. “A lot. Sheriff Trevors, he needs help.”

“And you’re the help?” the gunman asked. He looked the two young men up and down, real slow-like, then shook his head. He opened the door to leave, and the dark-haired man followed him out.

“Sheesh,” Billy breathed out after the door closed. “Who are those two?” He fell back into his chair, as if he was exhausted. “That’s a mean pair.”

“I sure as hell don’t know, but we got to warn Sheriff Trevors.” Tom reached for his hat. “Grab a rifle. If we go out the back door and run down the alleys, we can get to the restaurant first. Them two are bad ‘uns, if I ever seen any.”

00000000000000

“Good heavens! What are they doing here?”

Lom Trevors turned away from his lunch companion to see his two new deputies barge into the restaurant, rifles in hand. He barely had time to scowl at them before they rushed to his table.

“Sheriff Trevors!”

“Just what do you think you’re doing with those rifles? You expecting the James gang?”

Tom was out of breath. “There’s two gunnies come looking for you. They’re on their way here now. Me and Billy, we come to back you up.”

Caroline Porter put down her fork.

“Gunmen, you say? Coming here?”

“How’d they know to come here?” Trevors demanded.

Billy and Tom were at a sudden loss for words.

“You told them I was here?” His deputies’ silence spoke volumes.

“Who were . . .” Trevors was interrupted by Caroline Porter, who stood up and discreetly waved at the entrance.

“Mr. Smith! Mr. Jones! What a wonderful surprise to see you here!”

Trevors pointed at the new arrivals with his knife. “Are those two the gunnies you’re talking about?”

“Yes, sir, Sheriff,” came the simultaneous answer.

“You boys lower those weapons and go back to the office. I’m expecting the filing will be done when I get back. Clear?” Both deputies nodded vigorously and beat a hasty retreat. Smith and Jones approached the table, broad smiles illuminating their dirty faces.

“I hope we’re not interrupting anything, Lom,” Smith said. “Miss Porter.” He bowed from the waist. Caroline put her hand over her mouth and giggled. Trevors rolled his eyes.

“Why don’t you two sit down before you fall down? You look done in.”

“Don’t mind if we do, Lom. We have been through a spell. And seeing you here, Miss Porter, is an unexpected pleasure. I apologize if we’re interrupting a personal conversation.”

“Caroline and I were discussing her bank. There’s nothing personal in that.”

“Sorry we’re not real presentable,” Jones said. “We stopped in at your office to check in with you, Lom, and them deputies of yours told us where to find you. We figured to get a hotel room and some lunch after.”

“Not exactly in that order, if I know you, K – I mean, Jones,” Lom said. “That ain’t your reputation.”

“What is his reputation, Lom?” Miss Porter asked.

Trevors hemmed and hawed, to the barely-disguised amusement of Smith and Jones. Smith took pity on the tongue-tied sheriff.

“That he’s good at his job, Miss. And that his work always comes first, which is why we looked up Lom before taking care of private matters. I’m sure you realize that, after our initial acquaintance.”

“Indeed I do,” she said. “And you too, Mr. Smith. Your help and knowledge of security procedures was invaluable to me.” A thoughtful look crossed her face. “And it might be again. Lom, don’t you think their banking experience might be helpful in my current situation?”

Trevors stared at the two men, who only looked politely curious. “I don’t know about that.”

“Gentlemen, I may have a proposal for you, but I need to think about it more. Can we speak tomorrow?” She stood up, and all three men stood too.

“Of course, ma’am. We look forward to it.” Smith said, giving her a pleasant smile. “But we don’t want you to leave without having your lunch.”

“Oh. we’ve already eaten. Why don’t you stay and have lunch on me? I’m sure you’re hungry.” They started to protest, but she overruled them with a wave. “No, no. It’s a business expense. Please let me do a good deed for friends.” She took a few steps away, then turned back. “Oh, by the way, don’t bother going to any hotel. They’ve been sold out for weeks. Go to the men’s boarding house on 4th Street. It only accepts the highest class of pre-selected gentlemen. I should know, since I own it. Be sure to tell the clerk I sent you.”

“Ma’am, you are a gem, and a constant surprise,” Heyes told her. “It ain’t often someone does us a good dead, and we appreciate it.”

The men sat down slowly after she left. Trevors signaled a waitress, who filled coffee cups.

“Those are some tough deputies you hired, Lom. Sure intimidated me.”

“Don’t be a jerk, Heyes,” Lom said. “This town’s growing a lot, and I need help, especially since Harker retired. They’ll do good once I finished training them.”

“Here’s hoping you live so long,” Jones said. “They’re awful wet behind the ears, if you ask me.”

“They’re smart enough to know you two are trouble, even if they didn’t know they was face to face with Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry. They don’t know you’re using Smith and Jones for your aliases.”

“You picked those names out for us, Lom. That’s why we use them.” He took a sip of the hot coffee. “Mmm mmm. I sure needed that." He waved the young waitress back to the table. “Miss, whatever you recommend for lunch, bring two servings of it. And maybe one more for my friend.”

“Is that all, sir?” Her look lingered on Curry’s blue eyes, visible through the coating of dust on his face.

“For now. Thanks.” She tore herself away reluctantly.

“Don’t you ever stop, Kid?” Trevors asked. “You’ve been here five minutes, and you’ve already got some young girl swooning.” Curry only shrugged.

“If I might change the subject, Lom – you got any good news for us?” Trevors hesitated. Heyes and Curry put their cups down. Their shoulders sank and their smiles faded.

“Now don’t be like that, boys. No news is good news, right? The deal’s still on. Just keep walking the straight and narrow path like you been doing. One small step after another, that’s all it takes. You’ll get there.”

Heyes folded his hands on the table. “That’s what we’ve been doing for three years now. One small step, then another, then another, and every so often, what feels like a giant leap. But we still haven’t gotten anywhere. We’re where we were when we started. It’s a mite discouraging, that’s all.”

“I know it is, Heyes. I do know. But what’s the alternative? You ain’t going back on the owlhoot trail. Are you?”

Both men shook their heads. “No,” Heyes said. “This honest way of life, it’s kind of habit-forming. You learned that your own self.”

“I did.” Trevors looked at them, taking in their threadbare clothes and drawn faces. “Now that I’ve given you the news, what’re your plans?”

“Just to rest up a couple days. And to make a deposit in Miss Porter’s 404.”

Trevors’ eyes widened in surprise. “You’ve got money? Honest money?”

Heyes put one hand to his chest. “I’m hurt, Lom. Truly hurt. Yes, we do. Between so-called security jobs that no one in his right mind would take, and a profitable stay playing poker in a couple mining towns, we got ourselves a decent stake. And being the honest- hard-working citizens we are, we want to put that money in a bank.”

“Especially one that’s got a safe even Heyes couldn’t crack,” Curry added.

“Hmmph.” Trevors considered. He looked at the earnest faces looking back at him.

“Alright, boys. You want to stay in town a couple days, rest up, and clean up – at least, I hope you want to clean up – I got no problem with that. Just stay out of trouble, alright? I got enough problems on my hands already. Town’s booming right now, what with all the cattlemen sending their herds to Wyoming for grazing. Lots of newcomers in town, and they ain’t all inclined to be peaceable.”

“Which is why you got two deputies now,” Curry said.

“Which is why I got two deputies. I could use more, but there ain’t enough experienced men. There’s more money working for the cattlemen. Law enforcement ain’t the way to making big money.”

“Not for an honest lawman anyway.” At Trevors’ hardened expression, Heyes hurried to apologize. “Of course, we’re not talking about you, Lom. You’re as honest as the day is long. Me and Kid, we’ve had a few run-ins with men who use their tin badge like it was a license to be a crook.”

“Sure have,” Kid agreed in a quiet voice. “A badge ain’t a guarantee that the man wearing it is honest.”

Trevors backed off. “Yeah. I’ve seen a few, I’m sorry to say. A few bad apples can ruin the whole barrel.”

“Getting back to what we were saying earlier, we’re going to check into Miss Porter’s boarding house, get clean, and maybe look for a little work.”

“Here? In Porterville?”

Heyes nodded. “Sure. Why not? Miss Porter might have something for us. You heard her say so, didn’t you? We can’t quit working, just because we’re beat.”

“Yeah.” Trevors didn’t look happy at the prospect but couldn’t find it in himself to object. His lunch companions looked worn out and discouraged, in a way he hadn’t seen before. And they had done everything he, and the governor, had asked them to do, no matter how hard or dangerous it was.

“Good. We’re all agreed then. And here comes lunch, just in time. Kid was about to eat his hat.”

“I guess so. We’re agreed,” Trevors said. He watched them dig into their meals as if neither had eaten for a week. Caroline Porter was right when she offered to do them a good deed. He could do the same. Even as he was getting used to the idea, an old saying came to mind – “no good deed goes unpunished.” He could only hope it wasn’t true.

_________________
"If it's worth doing, it's worth doing badly."

"The failure in doing something is stopping too soon."

Subject: Re: August 2019 - One small step ... Thu Aug 29, 2019 10:40 am

Kid Curry whistled as he walked down the boardwalk towards the café. He was just paid for a delivery job and given a bonus for being two days earlier than expected. After breakfast, he planned to send a telegraph to Oak Creek to tell Heyes of his departure from Jefferson City. With any luck, he’d be having dinner with him in three days.

He entered the café with lace curtains in the windows and tantalizing smells floating in the air from inside.

“Sit anywhere and I’ll be right with you,” a young girl said as she began to fill coffee cups throughout the dining area.

The Kid smiled as he saw a couple leaving a table in the back corner with a view out the window. He tipped his hat as he let them go by and then headed to his seat.

“Coffee?” the waitress came by with the pot and a clean cup.

“Yes, please.” He smiled as he took the proffered mug of steaming coffee.

“I’ll be right back and get this table cleared right away.”

True to her words, she was back with a cloth and a bucket. Putting the dirty dishes in the container, she wiped the table clean. “There, that’s better. Did you decide what you wanted?”

“I sure did. I’ll have three eggs scrambled, ham, toast, and… Do you have potatoes?”

“My ma makes the best hash browns. Most folks serve their hash white, but ma takes the time to makes sure it’s golden brown and crispy.”

Curry smiled. “I’ll have an order of that, too.”

The Kid sipped his coffee as he watched the town come to life in the morning hours. The deputy was on his way home, yawning as he left the sheriff’s office. The banker had just unlocked the doors and greeted the first customer. A teen was sweeping the boardwalk outside of the mercantile while an older man put a few items of merchandise outside.

Four older men were at the next table talking about the weather and news as they finished their breakfast.

“Yep, the Farmer’s Almanac just came out with the winter forecast. It’s gonna be another cold year with lots of snow, just like last year.”

“I figured as much. That oak tree by my place has lots of acorns.”

“Speakin’ of oak, did you hear the news outta Oak Creek? Just read about it in the paper.”

“What news is that?”

“Hannibal Heyes, that outlaw, is dead – someone shot him!”

“What?”

“Where?”

“Lemme see…” The man wrestled with the paper. “Says right here that Heyes was playin’ poker in the Palace saloon when someone recognized him and told the sheriff. Sheriff Parker and his deputies came in behind him and he was shot dead. tryin' to escape. Oh, an' you'll never believe it, but he had that same hand as Wild Bill Hickok did – pair of black eights and pair of black aces.”

“The dead man’s hand.”

“Yep.”

Kid Curry’s hand shook as he set down his coffee. He swallowed down the bile, grabbed his hat, threw down a dollar, and left the café.

“Mister,” the teen called out. “Your food.”

“Boy, wonder why he was in a hurry to leave? He left before breakfast.”

“Didn’t even wait for his food.”

“Looks like he paid for it, though.”

“Huh.” The teen set the plate of hot food down and pocketed the dollar. She moved the lace curtain aside and looked down the street but didn’t see him.

“No sense wastin’ good food. Jenny, set that plate down here and we’re finish it up.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Kid Curry hurried into the store and went straight to the counter.

“What’ll you have?” a portly gentleman in an apron asked him.

“A box of 45s, jerky, hardtack, a can of peaches, and a newspaper.”

“Sounds like you’re hitting the trail. That’ll be a dollar twenty.”

“Thanks.” Curry gathered the items and folded the paper in half.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The Kid rode as fast as he dared push his horse towards Oak Creek. When resting, he unfolded the paper and read the article while eating.

“I told you to be careful ‘cause I wouldn’t be there to watch your back. Why’d you have to get the dead man’s hand? Oh, Heyes…”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Kid Curry was emotionally, as well as physically, worn out when he rode into Oak Creek in the afternoon. The livery owner gave him a lecture about pushing an animal too fast and to exhaustion, but the words barely registered with the disheartened man. With his horse taken care of, he took his saddle bags and headed to the Palace saloon.

He put a coin on the bar. “A whiskey.”

The bartender wiped a glass and set in front of him before pouring.

The Kid swallowed it all. “Another.”

The bartender poured a shot.

Curry sipped this drink as he looked around the room. “Quiet afternoon.”

“It’s quiet now, but it’ll be getting busier within the hour.” The man noted Curry’s appearance and tied down gun. “Besides, we’ve had enough excitement to last a lifetime.”

“Oh, why’s that?”

“You didn’t hear?”

“Hear what?”

“Hannibal Heyes, the leader of the notorious Devil’s Hole Gang, was shot dead over there.”

“The outlaw?”

“None other!”

“Here?”

“Yep. Someone recognized him while he was playing poker and alerted the sheriff. Sheriff Parker and his deputies had him surrounded, but he still went for his gun. And guess what cards he had – the dead man’s hand!”

“Huh, that’s somethin’. Didn’t just give up peacefully?”

“Nope. His body’s still at the morgue on display, if you wanna see it. Deepe’s charging a nickel to see it. Heard it’ll have to be buried tomorrow though. Too bad since folks have been coming from all over to see it.”

“Don’t know that I’ve seen a famous outlaw before.”

“Then you should go on over there and check it out. Can’t miss Barry M Deepe’s Funerals near the livery.”

“Think I might, after one more drink.”

~ *~ *~ * ~ * ~

Kid Curry hesitantly walked into the undertaker’s door. A bell rang and a man in the back, with a nervous stutter called out, “I’ll be right there. If you’re here to see the outlaw, he’s laid out in the parlor on the right.”

Curry removed his hat. “Thank you.”

He took a few steps to the door on his right. One small step and he’d be in the room. He could do this… he had to do this to confirm that it was indeed his partner. He forced his foot forward and now he could see through the door. In the room was a coffin with a familiar black hat sitting on the top of it. The Kid closed his eyes and sighed. He started to walk into the room to pay his respects…

“KID CURRY, YOU’RE UNDER ARREST! RAISE BOTH HANDS HIGH INTO THE AIR!”

A sheriff and two deputies, guns drawn, were at the door behind him and at the open windows.

The Kid hesitated a moment and raised his hands, his hat falling to the floor.

The sheriff came up behind Curry, took the outlaw's gun and placed it on the side table, far out of reach. “Got him covered?”

“Yep!”

“Got him!”

The sheriff holstered his own gun and took out the handcuffs, fastening them around one of his prisoner’s wrists before bringing it down and behind him. The sheriff took the other hand down and behind, then snapping the cuff around the wrist. “He’s secure. Henry, come in and grab his gun from the table. Then tell Barry he can bury this guy. Gus, wait there and you can walk to the jail with us.” Parker picked up the hat on the floor and shoved it on the Kid’s head.

“Sheriff, before you bury him, can I at least have a minute by the casket to pay my respects?” Curry asked.

“Respects to an outlaw? No, now let’s go!” Sheriff Parker grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the room.

~ *~ *~ * ~ * ~

Kid Curry lay on the cot in the jail cell with his back toward everyone. He just wanted to be alone and remember his friend and partner. They had been together for as long as he could remember and now Heyes was gone. He couldn’t even say a few words over the coffin. Maybe it was better not to see him dead – he could remember him alive with that dang smile that made him smile back.

The other deputy walked into the office. “Told Barry he could bury the casket now. Here’s the gun and hat.” He set them on the desk.

“Thanks, Henry.” The sheriff picked up the black hat and put his finger through the hole in the crown. “You’d think the infamous Hannibal Heyes wouldn’t be wearing a hat with a hole in it. With all the money he must have, he should be able to buy himself a new hat every week, if not every day. Hey, Curry, why’s your partner wear this holey hat?”

The Kid didn’t move or say a thing.

“Guess Heyes has it easy since he’s dead. He’s not going to prison for the rest of his life, like you are. No more gals or fresh air or liquor or good food for you. Nosiree.” The sheriff chuckled. “You’ll be lucky if the guards and other prisoners just leave you alone.”

Again, there was no reaction from the Kid.

“Not very talkative, are you?” the sheriff commented. “You’re not anything like how I imagined you’d be. You're actually kind of a disappointment.”

~ *~ *~ * ~ * ~

The next afternoon, the deputy removed the lunch that wasn’t touched. “You haven’t eaten a thing since you came in here and I bet you didn’t eat anything before you were arrested. Aren’t you hungry?”

As still and silent as a statue, the Kid stared out the window with his back towards the front of the jail.

~ *~ *~ * ~ * ~

After dinner, the sheriff called his men together. “This evening we can’t let our guard down. Patrols just like last night.”

“Again?” Henry whined. “I haven’t spent time with Ethel ever since we spotted Heyes.”

“And Gladys is getting tired of me not being home to help with the young ‘uns.” Gus leaned against the desk.

The sheriff glared at his two deputies. “Need I remind you that this jail is holding Kid Curry? His gang could be riding into town, even as we speak, to break him out. And remember, the town is counting on us for those rewards. Gladys can get her mother to help and Ethel will just have to wait.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay.”

“Now, Henry, you go to the saloon and keep an eye out for any strangers. Watch for anything out of the ordinary and report back here when it closes. Mind you that Sam will be expecting you. Not only that, but he'll be watching you to make sure you're doing your job. Gus, you’ll stay here with me and we’ll take turns on patrol. Any questions?”

“How come…”

“Because you were in the bar last night, so it’s Henry’s turn. Any more questions?”

“No.”

“Then stay alert and we’ll take turns resting here after the saloon closes.”

~ *~ *~ * ~ * ~

Henry stood at the end of the bar, leaning against the wall. “Somebody’s sure celebrating something.”

“He said he got notice that a wealthy uncle died and left him a lot of money,” Sam informed the deputy.

“Wish I had a rich uncle.”

“Don’t we all.” Sam left to fill a drink and came back.

“Do you know him? He doesn’t look familiar to me.”

“Nope. He’s from out of town and on his way to get his inheritance.”

“Huh. Sure is drinking a lot.”

“Yep.”

“Think he’s spilling as much as he’s drinking. He’s loud, too.”

“Drunks are usually loud or just pass out.” Sam wiped a few glasses clean.

Crash!

“Sheesh, he just knocked down that whole table when he stood up! Now the money's scattered all over the floor. That’ll make a few of the players mad.”

The drunk staggered over to the bar. “I lost my bottle.” He slapped some money down on the counter. “Give me another.”

“Haven’t you had enough?” Henry asked.

“Who're you?” the drunk slurred, leaning forward and squinting at the lawman.

“Deputy Henry Nelson. And who are you?”

“Me?” The drunk pointed to himself and almost lost his balance. “I’m Jake.”

“Jake who?” Henry looked at him closer.

“Jake Johnson.”

“Jake Johnson, with the rich uncle?”

“Not anymore – I’ll drink to that!” The drunk took a large swallow from the bottle and sneezed, spraying the deputy with alcohol. “Oops!”

“Dagnabbit! Sheriff Parker is gonna be furious!”

“Ohhh, pardon me, mister deputy! Let me get you a drink.” The drunk grabbed a glass and began pouring, spilling most of it on the lawman. “Oopsie-daisy.” The drunk pulled a bandana from his pocket and swiped at the man's shirt. “Clumsy me, didn't mean to…”

“That’s it!” Henry grabbed the drunk by the front of his shirt. “You’re going to jail until you can sober up!”

“But… What’d I do?” the drunk slurred as he stumbled to keep up with the deputy.

“Assault on an officer!”

Henry struggled with the drunk as he dragged him to the jail.

“Hold your horses, mister, goin' too fast!”

“That’s your problem, not mine.” Henry stepped onto the boardwalk. “Come on!” The deputy jerked on the drunk's arm, causing the man to stumble.

Teetering precariously, the drunk lost the fight to keep his balance and fell belly down on the boardwalk. “Oh, oh, I fall down.”

“Get up, you crazy ol’ coot!” Henry hauled him up the step, opened the jail, and threw him inside. “Help me out here!”

Gus got up from behind the desk. “Who’s this?”

“A belligerent drunk! Where’s Sheriff Parker?”

“He’s patrolling out there somewhere and then going home to bring us back a pie his wife baked. Should be back in about 30 minutes. Whatcha gonna do with him?”

“Get the keys. I'm putting him in the empty cell.”

The drunk doubled over. “Oh, oh, gonna be sick.”

“Oh no you don’t! Gus get a bucket.”

The drunk straightened up, his eyes dark and a Schofield in his hands. “I’m suddenly feeling much better.” He removed the droopy mustache from his face and motioned with his gun. “Move over there, next to the other deputy. That’s right. Now hand over the keys.”

“Better do as he says,” Henry told Gus.

“Thaddeus?” Heyes looked with concern at the cell.

Kid Curry turned over on the cot and looked at him with confusion. “Joshua?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Are you okay?”

“But you’re… you’re dead.”

“Not last time I checked. Would you get up and help me out here?”

The Kid stood up and snatched the keys Heyes threw over to him. “You’re alive!”

“Yeah and we've gotta get outta here if we want to stay that way. Mind hurrying it up some?”

Curry let himself out of the cell and held the door open as Heyes escorted the two deputies inside. Untying the deputies’ bandanas, they used them for gags.

Holding his gun on them, Heyes said, “Go through the desk for handcuffs.”

The Kid rummaged through the desk, pulled out his Colt and quickly put the gunbelt around his waist. He found the handcuffs and quickly secured the deputies hands behind their backs.

As they were about to leave, Heyes glanced at the desk. “My hat!” He grinned as he put the battered black hat on his head. “Let’s go!”

The partners cautiously opened the door and slipped out into the dark alley. Heyes led the way to a large shed where two horses were saddled and ready to go.

~ *~ *~ * ~ * ~

Kid Curry looked over at his partner and grinned.

“What? Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

“It’s just really good to see you alive.”

“You really thought I was dead,” Heyes stated.

Curry nodded; the smile gone. “The paper said so and the bartender confirmed the story. I went to the undertaker and… It was your hat. What was I to think?”

“A newspaper said I was dead?”

“Uh huh. What happened, Heyes?”

“I was spotted by one of the townsfolk who just happened have a great memory and was on one of the trains we robbed. Sheriff arrested me and was asking me where you were. The town was planning to use the $20,000 reward for a new school and other things. I took the opportunity to pick my way outta jail and was heading to Jefferson City to meet you. I got there, but you were already gone.”

“When I heard in the café that you were dead, I hurried outta town and took a short cut to Oak Creek. I had to find out if it was really you.”

“The whole town must’ve been in on it. I bet the newspaper printed the fake story to make sure you came and then everyone was watching and waiting for someone fitting your description to arrive.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the livery owner and bartender alerted the sheriff that I was in town.”

“Kid, you said you went to the undertaker and saw my hat?” Heyes took off his hat and really looked at it. “It wasn’t…”

Curry smiled. “No, it wasn’t on whoever they had inside there. It was restin’ on top of the coffin.”

Heyes put his hat back on. “Phew… That’s a relief”

“Heyes?’

“Yeah?”

“Don’t do that again.”

“Do what?”

“Die.”

Heyes grinned. “I’ll do my best not to.”

_________________
h
"Do you ever get the feeling that nothing right is ever going to happen to us again?" - Kid Curry

Subject: Re: August 2019 - One small step ... Tue Sep 03, 2019 3:41 am

Replied in wrong thread Embarassed

Posts : 75 Join date : 2019-05-19

1) Little BlueStem

A fearlessly jump into the unknown in the nick of time - only together, either die or survive, that`s the question with "one more step". Doesn`t matter if it`s already written for another story. A fitting scene for our boys as well..

2) InsideOutlaw

Once in a lifetime to get a lot of money to settle down comfortably - who wouldn`t like to dream about that? Your description of the sheriff as a man who kicks a man when he`s down is vivid, so the reader can see him right there sitting at his desk. Kid`s mentally withdrawing from that mean background voice is quite believable. "One small step across the line between honesty and stealing" ; the prompt is very good implemented, literally seen.
Of course Heyes appears to break the Kid out of jail...but not until he takes some refreshment...funny. I have to agree to the other comments, your used idiom at the beginning and at the end is a beautiful, skilful way of tying up loose ends.

3) Maz

Sometimes even our great outlaw leader needs some advice and encouragement, of course just to remind him as a matter of course that he thoroughly is able to do such a small step, or jump...Very funny to see how Heyes is on the brink of losing his face...thankfully he gets past his fear! Well, everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. Lovely to see how you made Heyes to try to backtrack on his own plan.
Great sentence: "I guess I have a lot to learn about theory and practise."
Brilliant dialogues as usual.
Kids arousing anger making Heyes gather all his courage and Kids threat to tell the other boys gives him the last push he needs... wonderful!

4) Kid4ever

Maybe it would have been better if Heyes had waited for the Kid to join up with him. But if his "back up" says "keep going"...always again beautiful to see they`re equal partners, even if something goes wrong...Well written dialogues, I loved Curry`s sarcastic replies.
Good idea how you implement the prompt "one small step, a little at a time" - the only way for him to move at all is to hop on his healthy foot. I could sympathize with the Kids reluctance to cut off his boot- they must appreciate a good pair of shoes, if you think how much they are on their way and fitting boots are expensive and hard to find...just think of all the blisters you can get from new shoes!
Besides: to google the prompt to get an idea for a story ..wow, upon what kind of funny things you can stumble, like the name of the shop!

5) RosieAnnie

I very much enjoyed your story. You implemented the prompt excellently. Funny your description of the two deputies. I`d love to see their dumbfounded faces when they face our two boys for the first time. What an impressing image they must submit! They mirror trouble, even two young, unexperienced deputies can see that!
You expound the prompt on two different ways:
a) "one small step" further and further towards amnesty. Their, so far, unobtainable goal, which they stand fast, so unwearying, though they receive so many setbacks. Once again, they call on Lom in order to ask if he knows something new. And are disappointed. Lovely to see how he attempts to encourage them.
b) Your description of the difficulties in their life.
Every step is exhausting and they can be glad of the small things life offers them...always short of money, they eagerly accept a meal for them, a job offer or to stay in a nice border house overnight for free. Normal things aren`t normal in general for them...for example, inviting a charming lady to dinner as Lom can do....
Great sentence: "No news is good news."No alternative. To endure and accept problems in your life ...and never ever give up. Don`t let yourself discourage by your problems and never lose track of life..."one small step " to look forward to tomorrow! For some people your story comes out just the right time.

6) Penski

A very enjoyable read. A really clever plot. I`m not a poker player but I assume "the dead man`s hand" is a bad omen...
Kids behaviour after hearing of Heyes` supposed death is very much in character, pushing his horse and himself relentlessly in order to reach the town where Heyes was staying as fast as possible.
Always wonderful to see how they manage to get some news unobstrusively So lovely to imagine how the black hat with the hole stands representatively for Heyes ( clothes make the man).
Very intelligent from the town people to lure the Kid to them...a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush...and 10.000 Dollar for the town is better than nothing. A mean thing not to let Kid pay his respects at the coffin - by the way, what a coincidence they had a deceased at hand! I like the way you describe the Kid being so agitated by Heyes` death he doesn`t even want to eat.
The sheriffs attempt to provoke the Kid only results in paying the penalty.

» April 2019 - None of the above
» Oct 2019 The Dark
» May 2019 - Safe
» Jan 2019 - The Pulley (think... pilot)
» Oct 2019 - The Dark