Oct 2014 - The Best Laid Plans

It is late - but it is here...

Despite my best intentions I am overcome with
a) Guilt at my tardiness
b) Gremlins mucking up my work computer
c) Work piling up

So, the challenge is apt - but is also simply plucked from my reserve list.

It is also likely to be a piece of cake for all you clever lot!!!

Lick your lips as you cogitate on:



The best laid plans

Author's Note.  We continue with Freedom of the Press, which was continued in last month's 'Flash Bang' challenge.

Heyes' and Curry's situation so far:
A stranger is threatening Saddle Creek townsfolk. On their first night in town, Heyes and Curry are jailed by Sheriff Brainard on suspicion of extortion. The next morning he dismisses the charges in exchange for them guarding the saloon as his deputies. In the afternoon they ‘save’ a Remington wagon, it’s young lady driver, and it’s curious cargo.  She promises them a job with Remington after they deduce that her boss, DeVore, is the villain. During a card game that night, they capture DeVore and become town heroes. The next morning our town heroes are praised to the skies in a church service they feel obliged to attend.  Meanwhile, Lom Trevors, who arrived in town the previous night to take possession of the Remington shipment on behalf of the Wyoming governor, is working with Brainard to discover the identity of DeVore.



The Best Laid Plans

The boys stepped off the church steps and started down the street.  The Kid turned to Heyes, “Mighty nice of the sheriff to get us out of that lunch with the pastor. Wonder why he did that.”

Heyes shook his head. “I don’t know, but I’ve had enough of these Sunday clothes.” He pulled at his stiff collar. “When we get to Lloyd’s you want to get a drink first or change out of these clothes?”

“Drink first.”

Curry looked at the crowd of men heading in the direction of the saloon. “I wonder what Anne will do when she finds out half the men in this town eat Sunday dinner at Lloyd’s.”

Heyes and the Kid walked on in silence, loosening their ties and enjoying the fresh air.

“Between the church and the saloon, they sure like us here,” said the Kid.  “This may be the town we’re lookin’ for.  It’s just like you said yesterday.”

“How’s that?”

“You remember, after I said I was lookin’ forward to settlin’ for a spell, playin’ some cards, makin’ some money…”

“Right,” said Heyes.

“You said ‘That’s the plan; these little out-of-the way towns are good for that.’”

Heyes laughed.  “You remember that?”

“Sure do. Then you said somethin’ like: ‘There’s nothin’ goin’ on but the saloon and the church.’”  

Heyes grinned and turned to Curry. “All the men are gambling their wife’s money at the saloon; all the women are praying for their husbands at the church; and there’re no newspapers to write tales that make people suspicious of a couple of strangers.”

“See, just like you said.”

“Yep. And now, thanks to finding Marjory Speilman, we’ll get that Remington job delivering those typing machines. We can make some real money.”

“Yep.  Until then Lloyd and the sheriff will want us to stay at the saloon, in order to protect it, of course.”

“It’s a perfect plan, Kid, foolproof.”  

Curry gave Heyes a sharp look.

Heyes ignored the look as they stepped up on the board walk in front of the town’s general store. The store owner, Jack Andrews, was locking the door with one arm, and holding a pile of catalogues with the other.

“Morning Andrews; need some help holding those catalogues?” Heyes asked.

Andrews turned around. “Smith and Jones!” he said with a big smile.  He surveyed the two men from head to toe. “I can tell by your Sunday duds that Anne hoodwinked you into attending church service.”

The three men laughed.

“I could use some help with these since you offered. If one of you could hold the catalogues for me while I lock up…”

Heyes took the catalogues. “Montgomery Ward catalogues; we get our clothes from Montgomery Ward.”

         

Andrews locked the door. “That so?”  

"Yep, 'cause they got a money-back guarantee," Kid added proudly.

Heyes handed the catalogues back and the three men started walking to Lloyd’s.

Andrews handed Heyes a catalogue. “I’m getting ready to make an order.  If you want to add anything let me know. If there’s a shirt in there you like, I’ll order it – on me. It’s my way of saying thanks for finding my watch on DeVore last night.”

“Thanks, that’s mighty decent of you.,” said Heyes. He started to leaf through the catalogue as they walked.

The smell of braised beef wafted into the street as the three men approached Lloyds. Heyes put the open catalogue in front of Curry and pointed at a shirt. “Jones, you like this one?”

The Kid didn’t look at the catalogue; his eyes were fixed on the saloon doors. “I don’t care, s’long as it’s light,” he said. He gave a dismissive wave at the catalogue and walked in.

Heyes turned to Andrews.  “May I have another catalogue sir?”

“Where’d the other one go?” A puzzled Andrews looked at Heyes and warily handed him a catalogue.  

Heyes gave Andrews an innocent smile. “Ah, well my friend…”

“Funny. I didn’t see him take it from you, but I guess he did.” He shook his head. “Let’s get some lunch.”

The two men walked in. There, near the door, was a brand new, gloriously painted, barrel organ, grandly playing – a church tune. Andrews walked on to the bar, but Heyes stood in front of the machine transfixed, watching the machine and listening to the music.

Andrews noticed Curry ordering a drink at the bar, and came up next to him.  “I thought you got a catalogue too, Mr. Jones.”

“Huh?” Curry responded.

Just then the barkeep brought Curry’s drink, and then set a shot glass down in front of Andrews. “Here’s your whiskey starter, Mr. Andrews. What’s your special for today?”

A puzzled Andrews shook his head to clear it. He opened a brown book, flipped through the pages, and running his finger down one page, stopped. “I’ll try the Flip Flap.”

“Ay, still working your way through Engel’s book are ye Mr. Andrews?” the barkeep said with a smile, and left.

Andrews held up his shot glass, downed the whiskey starter in one gulp, and turned to Curry.  ““Joy, joy forever, my task is done; the gate is passed, the haven is won.”

Curry smiled and tipped his glass in Andrew’s direction. What’s this Engel book?”

Andrews held the book out so Curry could read the title. “American and Other Drinks; it’s a best seller, just came out.”

The Kid gave the book a dismissive glance and changed the subject. “Does Anne know how many men eat Sunday dinner at Lloyd’s?”

Andrews smiled. “Of course; but for some reason she ignores a lot of what the men do. Like Sunday at Lloyd’s. That’s where I eat,” Andrews looked at Curry with a twinkle in his eye “and play cards, and drink.” Curry raised his glass in appreciation of the sentiment.

The bartender set a chilled burgundy glass in front of Andrews, "Your Flip Flap sir."

         

Curry looked at the drink, "I'll have to try that; 'FlipFlap huh?" While Andrews tried his drink, Curry looked around the saloon. “Andrews, have you seen my partner, Smith?”

Andrews shrugged, turned around, and pointed at the door. “I left him over at that new music machine.”

“Thanks.” Curry picked up his drink and walked toward the saloon door.  Heyes was standing in front of the music machine, humming to the music.

“What are you doin’ here?” Curry asked.

“Recognize it? It’s the same kind of machine that was in Porterville; it’s even playing the same tune!”

“Huh?”

“Now I know what it was playing in Porterville; they sang this song in church this morning.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“You slept through that too?” Here, listen. Heyes growled along with the music: “Do Lord, do Lord, do remember me…”

“Aw com’n, let’s get upstairs and change out of these Sunday clothes, I’m hungry.  Beside, I need my gun.”  He waved at the machine dismissively and turned toward the staircase.

The machine suddenly went silent, mid-tune. Heyes looked at the Kid, looked back at the machine, and frowned.

“That deputy in Porterville had to kick it to make it stop,” he grumbled under his breath as he followed Curry upstairs.

“Jones! Smith!” Lloyd walked over and joined them as they went up to their room.  

“So, you like my new music machine?”

“Sure do,” said Heyes.

“Just got it this morning; folks from Omaha brought it out to try. It has music for everyday, including Sundays.”

“Yes, I recognized that tune from the service.”

Lloyd’s voice and demeanor darkened.  “They want me to get the gambling machines too – and they want a cut.  But I want to keep this saloon respectable. I’m worried because the men who delivered it don’t seem to be in any hurry to leave town.  They keep finding reasons to return here and bother me about it.”

“I think you’re right, Lloyd,” Curry said. “Better to keep to card games with no cheatin’.”

“Yep,” added Heyes. Those machines are usually fixed, in favor of the house, so the company renting them makes a huge ‘take.’”

“Yea, I know,” said Lloyd anxiously. “They might leave the machines here and then claim I agreed to the deal. Would you stick around to keep an eye on the saloon and see they don’t do that?”

“We’ll have to ask Sheriff Brainard, but I don’t see why not. How will we recognize these fellows?”

“Thanks. They’ve got an Irish brogue as thick as daege butter. You can’t miss ‘em,” Lloyd said as he left them at their room.

The two quickly changed.  As the Kid inspected his gun, Heyes neatly piled his and Curry’s Sunday clothes on top of their saddlebags. “I wonder how long it’s been since we washed these,” Heyes wondered out loud.

“You always say that,” Curry said. He made a dismissive wave as he left the room, “but they’re never dirty, right?”

As Heyes closed the door, he looked back at the saddle bags which were now uncovered, and then at his partner. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said. Then he whispered to himself, “well, it sure ain’t the saddle bags.”

“So, what’s on the menu today?” the Kid asked the bartender after ordering another drink.  

“It’s chuck wagon buffet gents, the cook does it every Sunday, it’s kind of a tradition here.”

The boys looked around the saloon. Most of the men were making a beeline for the buffet table.  Some of them recognized the boys from the church service or from the previous night and waved hello before they grabbed their plates.  

“I’ll grab a couple plates of food while you save our place,” Heyes said before he walked over to the buffet table.

An older, stocky man stood behind the buffet and greeted Heyes with a big smile. “Afternoon Deputy Smith, I’m Lexie Gertner, the cook. Grab a plate; Lloyd told me to make sure our deputies get fed.  Where’s your partner?”

“He’s holding our place at the bar. I’ll grab a plate for him too. Much obliged.” The cook started ladling out the food: braised beef stew, pinto beans, fresh sourdough bread, German potato salad, and peach cobbler.

“I was the cookie for Circle Z. They used to have barn dances down there and a chuck wagon for the folks that came. I liked doing them so much, when Lloyd opened this place I asked for the cook’s job.  It sure beats trailing cowpokes.”

“That right?” said Heyes. “So what happened to the barn dances, do they still have them?”

“No. Different approach to things: Lloyd’s Irish and the saloon’s for men.  You know, whiskey at the bar and that sort of thing.  Feldon Zeider is a German from Texas. They like their dancing and beer; it’s more of a family thing. He tried to start a beer garden place, but he thought his beer wasn’t very good. I guess the ranch water’s no good for the beer he likes.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” Heyes said, regretting the beer.

“It was a nice family thing.” said Lexie. “Couples would bring their kids, and young people got to mingle. When the town got going and Lloyd’s opened, Zeider got bitter and closed the whole thing down.  He tried to make his own whiskey too for a while.”

Heyes took the two plates back to the bar and sat down next to Curry.  

“What were you talkin’ about?”

“He was telling me that that the ranch Capps told us about, Circle Z, used to have barn dances.”

“Used to?” Curry asked, visibly disappointed.

“Yep, used to,” Heyes replied with a grin before he dug into his plate of food, “You’ll have to meet the pretty ladies somewhere else.”


Lom looked up as the two opened the door to Sherriff Brainard’s office. “Well, if it isn’t the two selfless deputies. How was the preaching this morning?”

“Not bad, Lom,” the Kid answered. “We’re saints now. We’re wearin’ laurel wreaths and have a reward in heaven.”

“As long as we keep our noses clean,” Heyes added. “As the preacher said, ‘Don’t harbor evil plans under false pretense.’”

“He said that?” the Kid answered. “Guess I missed that part.”

“Guess you missed most of it,” Heyes replied, “until he got to the end and started praising us to high heaven. You sure didn’t miss that.”

The Kid smiled.  “The pastor even invited us to be deacons, or somethin’,” he announced, proudly.

“Deacons!” Lom was shocked.  “You two are just lucky to be out of prison.  And, if Brainard puts you in a witness stand against DeVore that’s where you’ll end up.”

“Why?” the Kid asked, surprised.

Lom replied, “The defense lawyers will do background checks. Folks here know I know you.”

“So?”

“They’ll ask me about you; I’ll answer honestly. I’m a law-abiding sheriff. And felons are not allowed to testify. In fact, they’re usually indicted and jailed.”

Lom continued, “Even worse, DeVore would be freed on a mistrial, and you two will probably be convicted for his shenanigans.”

“Aw, com’n, that’s goin’ too far,” the Kid objected.

“No, not too far,” Lom replied.  “The lawyers would have convinced the jury that all the evidence was traceable back to you, and that you two set the whole thing up.”

“Come on Lom,” Heyes objected.  “What’s the chance of that happening?”

“Pretty good actually,” Lom replied.  “Once they find out that the states of Nebraska and Wyoming made two notorious train robbers deputies, and then put them up as witnesses for the prosecution, they’ll have the jury wrapped ‘round their fingers.  The governor will drop you two like hot potatoes, and leave you to your fate.”  Lom leaned forward from the desk and looked each of the boys in the eye.

Heyes and Curry exchanged a glance.

“Guess we’ll lay low until all this blows over,” the Kid said.

Lom looked up from his desk at the boys. “If you can; the editor of The Mayfield Sun thinks he has a great story by the tail.  He’s going to carry stories on this DeVore thing and you town heroes are going to be the star characters.”

A wave of disappointment washed over the Kid’s face. “This laurel wreath thing ain’t lookin’ so good. I was just beginnin’ to like that part.”

“So, since we can’t have you two showing up at the trial,” Lom continued, “we’ll have to hide you away where no one can get to you til’ this all blows over.”

“Oh no, we’re not goin’ to hide out in some jail or somethin’,” the Kid objected.  

Heyes added.  “Look Lom, we just ran into a situation here in Saddle Creek, and I think we’ve made the best of it. We’ll ride out of town and keep quiet.”

“You can’t just ride out of town and avoid the trial, not without a good excuse, that is,” Lom said. He cleared his throat, leaned back in the desk chair, and resumed. “Actually, the governor is impressed with you two, and has been since Junction City. It turns out Judge Handley wrote a letter to the governor of Wyoming explaining his actions and commending you. I guess he saw some potential in you two.”

“Really,” Heyes replied. “Bless his heart – I guess...”

“So, when the governor heard what happened here in Saddle Creek, he wired the Remington Company.  He arranged for them to pay the state of Wyoming costs for you two ‘deputies’ to accompany the delivery through Wyoming when it comes in from Bridgeport.”

Heyes and the Kid looked at each other, frowning. Heyes smiled at Lom. “We’re grateful Lom, but we think that it would be better for us if we worked directly for Remington. We know they pay well…”

Lom cut Heyes off. “You should be grateful. After the DeVore fiasco, Remington will run a background check on you two.  Look, the governor’s office is going to give you cover, and it’s going to pick up the cost of this ‘secret’ mission ahead of delivery. You’re going to avoid the trial and the exposure.”

“And if we don’t accept?” the Kid asked.

“I’ll arrest you,” Lom replied flatly. “Save us all a lot of time and trouble.”

“Darn, I guess that’s a good deal,” the Kid said.  “It wasn’t our original plan…”

“But hey, it’s a darn good one, anyway.” Heyes’ face wore a forced grin.

“Look boys, the governor is real keen on getting those writing machines delivered without any trouble.  If you accept this job, you’ll be working for him.  And I can be here for some backup, if you need it.”

Heyes and the Kid still looked dubious.

“Look at it this way.” Lom said.  “That editor says he is going to assign a special reporter to follow this story. We can’t tell them to not cover this; they have freedom of the press.  Since we can’t have you in the papers, we’re going to give you freedom, freedom from the press.

“That’s good Lom,” the Kid said. “Freedom from the press, I like that.”

“Let’s keep it that way, boys. You keep out of trouble, just like you’ve been doing for the last few months. That wasn’t so hard, was it? Only difference is now you’re working for the Territory of Wyoming.”

“Sounds like all kinds of fun, Lom,” Heyes said.

A dry smile crossed Lom’s face.  “Welcome to law enforcement.  If you live long enough, you’ll have more enemies than friends.”


References.
You may need to copy the URL into your browser.

1. American and Other Drinks, Leo Engel
https://archive.org/details/americanandothe00engegoog


2. Do Lord
The original tunes and lyrics:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ez5bvGvggiA

The original verses:
http://www.negrospirituals.com/news-song/do_lord_remember_me.htm

For skeptics that can’t believe Do Lord could be played in a nineteenth century saloon – here is the ragtime/gospel version.  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-NVhEpD4R6w

Julia Ward Howe added one verse in 1861 when the song was first included in the Methodist Hymnal; she did not originate the song.

The Best Laid Plans…
By Maz McCoy


“He is mine”, Maz typed. “Mine I tell you!”
***
“Mister Jones, would you have dinner with me this evening?” Miss Porter smiled demurely. Kid Curry shot a swift glance at his partner. Heyes smiled knowingly from behind the bank teller’s grill.  “I thought we could discuss the security arrangements for the bank, in more detail.”
Kid smiled. “I’d like that ma’am.”
“Shall we say 6.30?”
“I’ll pick you up then.” He touched the brim of his hat and she smiled again.
Miss Porter stepped out of the bank, her mind on her dinner with the handsome Mr Jones. She would wear her favourite white dress and tie her hair back with a matching ribbon. He was sure to notice. Yes, she would like it if he noticed. She stepped down from the boardwalk and a pounding of horses’ hooves startled her. Miss Porter was mown down by a runaway wagon.
***
Maz McCoy skulked in the shadows as Mary Cunningham stood in her office and cried. Kid Curry, a battered and beaten Kid Curry, leaned against the wall arms folded across his chest, trying his best to look unaffected by the woman’s tears. Maz liked him bruised and brooding. Her hand went towards the lever of the trap door she had persuaded the unsuspecting stage hand to install. Heyes took a step forward and grabbed Mary by the arms. Maz breathed a sigh of relief. Heyes was the one interrogating her; he was the one consoling her. It was Heyes’ hands on her arms. Not Kid’s. The woman was safe. Maz took her hand away from the lever.
***
The train rumbled on towards Brimstone. In the carriage filled with Bannerman detectives Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes looked nervously around them. Harry Briscoe stood up and addressed the men before him. “Gentlemen, we are indebted to this brave young woman.” He pointed to the blond Sara Blaine and went on to explain how she claimed to know Kid Curry.
So she knew Kid Curry did she?
The detectives raised their six-guns in celebratory salute. One detective still clad in a woman’s garb raised her gun too. When the train gave a sudden jolt and a shot was fired, the detectives put Ms. Blaine’s demise down to sheer bad luck.
***
As the train rattled on Annabelle leaned back against the boxcar wall and smiled at Thaddeus. He was a handsome man; a man of the world.  He smiled as she informed him of her desire to have authentic experiences.
“CUT!” The director turned to the assembled crew. “Okay who spoke?” No one answered. “I know someone muttered something. Sounded like I bet you do. Can we keep it quiet people?” He turned his attention back to the scene. “Okay, let’s take it from Annabelle’s line.”
Anabelle lifted her eyes to the handsome young man seated with her in the boxcar. She pushed to her feet and moved to the open boxcar doorway. “It’s so beautiful out here.”
“It is,” Kid agreed.
Annabelle reached out her hand to feel the breeze on her palm. “I feel as if I could reach out and…”
Kid’s mouth dropped open in startled surprise as she was whisked away by a mail bag hook. He was swiftly on his feet and peering out of the door. Ooh not pleasant. He looked away. At least if he found some food, he wouldn’t have to share it.
***
Grace dipped her feet in the cool water. It was so refreshing after the long hours in the cramped stagecoach. Although spending those hours with Thaddeus was a bonus. She smiled. She had plans for Thaddeus.
“You all right, Grace?” he asked from his sentry post beyond the bushes and she informed him that she was. After a while Grace stepped from the pool and reached for her clothes. The rattle stopped her. The snake flicked its tongue at her sensing her presence.
“Thaddeus,” she whispered.
Kid thought he heard her cry and was quickly on his feet. Unfortunately the snake struck and bit Grace before he got there.
“I thought we were using stock footage of a snake, not the real thing,” the director queried. He looked down at the dead woman. This could save everyone a lot of time and effort, especially the money for those extras employed to set up that darn shell game.
***
Betsy spurned Kid’s offer to carry her packages. She was in love with Auggy. Maz liked this woman and made a mental note to buy some matches so to be ready when a man needed his cigar lit like that.
***
Their horses gone, as they clamoured to find the root of all evil, money, they had to walk long miles back to town. Stopping to cool their feet in a stream Kid gently splashed water over Margaret’s pretty young legs. Margaret, the floozy, was clearly enjoying the attention from the handsome blond cowboy. So besotted with Thaddeus was she that she failed to notice the alligator until it was too late.
“Sheesh,” said Kid as Margaret disappeared from sight. “Who knew they were even in these parts?”
***
“Heyes have you noticed how every time I get to likin’ a woman something terrible happens to her?”
“Yep.” Heyes rode a little in front of Kid and ducked his head as they made their way through the trees. As Kid pondered the women he had literally loved and lost, Heyes considered the mystery of the poker game. And at that moment a shot rang out!


In his search for information about the victims of the poker game Kid found himself in the saloon.
“I’m Helen,” said the beautiful young woman.
“I’m Jones.”
“Hello, Jones.”
The scene cut to Helen’s boudoir.  Kid sat back on the couch and watched as Helen approached, except this was a different Helen. For some reason they seemed to have changed actresses.  He was unaware that the real actress employed to play Helen was locked in her dressing room, her costume stolen by the imposter. The new Helen leaned closer to the prone cowboy. The scene began….
“And cut!” the director shouted. “Great scene, although next time remember this is going out in the afternoon, so let’s not make it THAT realistic a kiss!”
Helen chuckled, a satisfied smile on her face.


Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Rachel, had been injured by her latest attempt to own a modern appliance. Her demise was the result of the  5th vacuum.
***

The crowd in the saloon waited to hear what song the pretty new singer would perform next. They had been unimpressed by her first slow rendition of what sounded like a French love song. Michele Monet picked up her guitar. She caught Kid Curry’s eye as she plucked at the strings. Maybe a rousing version of ‘Do like I do’ would be more appropriate for this venue. She braced herself. Perhaps she could enlist the help of Joshua and Thaddeus? Unfortunately a freak guitar string accident ended both the song and her time in San Juan.
***
Maz ticked off Michelle’s name on her list. They were coming to the end of the first season and there was only one potential competitor left. A woman named Alice. Maz sat at the side of the set watching as the boys sauntered into the saloon. They were trail-dusty and unshaven. Gotta love a cowboy. Music began to play and…Sheesh a floozy was being lowered from the ceiling. Maz’s scientific brain went speedily into action. She calculated the height of the seat, angle of the rope, mass to height ratio to angle of the thingy to the what’s-it and…Alice’s career was cut short when the bird cage she was swinging in fell on her.

Muhaha!