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 Mar 15 - Under the Weather

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Calico

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PostSubject: Mar 15 - Under the Weather   Sun Mar 01, 2015 5:29 am

As I am currently huddled and shivering under a duvet on the couch, surrounded by damp tissues and going for the 'most moaning directed at a long-suffering husband in a 48 hour period' award, I cannot be my usually chipper and cheerful self setting this challenge. sorrykitty

(Snort, honk)

However - it will have the customary non-singular interpretation as I ask you to cogitate on being:


"Under the Weather"


very cold morerain




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WichitaRed
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PostSubject: Winter Ailment   Sun Mar 01, 2015 11:52 am

Decided to poke my head in for this challenge....hope y'all is doing great. Still working on my civil war novel...but I am stalking and reading what y'all post. Miss y'all and hope you enjoy this bit.


Challenge: "Under the Weather"
Answer: "Winter's Ailment"


Closing his book, Heyes tucked it in a leather satchel, storing it away in his saddle bags. Then rising, he moved on cat's paws to the cave's opening to watch the drifting, blowing snow. It had been coming down since dawn; he knew this because Curry's coughing had woke him before light. Peering round over his shoulder, he could see his cousin still sleeping soundly, but his movement had caught Wheat's attention.

Setting down the pistol, he was cleaning, Wheat crept to the opening. Glancing at Heyes, he pulled out a small cigarillo, lit it, and passed it to Heyes. "Suppose ya is out again."

Heyes nodded, accepting his gift.

"I think sometimes ya smoke more than ya eat, Heyes." Wheat said, and the two of them stood smoking. Looking at the last glowing ember of his cigarillo, Wheat flicked it out into the snow, where it sank, and clearing his throat, said. "Kyle and I are thinkin' of ridin' in; too cold not too be sleepin' in a warm bed. Ya and Kid going to come with us?"

Heyes leaned into the rugged rock of the cave entrance, one corner of his mouth dipping down.

"It is nearly..." Wheat dropped what he had been about to say, realizing Christmas had to be what had turned their Leader so stoic over the past few days.

"I know the date." Heyes stated in a flat tone. "But, Kid and I agreed we didn't want to intrude on anyone. We sure as hell, wouldn't make good company." He turned sideways to stare at his cousin. "Still, despite what he's been saying. I'm thinking, I need to get Kid out of this damp cold."

Wheat blew on his hands, rubbing them together, "So that mean, ya will be joinin' us?"

Heyes sighed, concern etched about his dark eyes, "Planned on riding back to the Hole and staying out of towns 'till after the New Year, figured it might be a site easier on us. But, I can't allow him to remain in the cold now that he has taken with sickness. Why don't you two clear on out while he's sleeping. I'll have better luck convincing him on my own. You two heading for the Hole or a town?"

"Bentons the closest." Wheat answered and with a nod, he and Kyle went about packing their belongings as quiet as wolves on the hunt.  

At the curved cave opening, Kyle paused, "Would ya like us to saddle ya horses and bring 'em up, Heyes?"

Heyes let loose a derisive snort, jerking a thumb toward Curry, "You forget who he's riding?"

Kyle smiled, showing off his chaw-stained teeth. "Dang, suppose I did. I miss Buck." He spit out into the snow. "Well, I ain't havin' that fool-headed hoss he's gotten attached to stomp and bite me. Sorry, Heyes, but he's all yours to deal with." Stepping out into the deep snow, he turned to face Heyes, "Ya bring his bull-headed, ornery self on into town to see a Doc; even if 'n ya gotta knock 'em out. I lost me a sister to winter illness, it ain't nothin' to be takin' lightly."

Heyes nodded at the little man, "We'll see you soon."

Kyle pulled his hat down and with a nod said, "Make sure I do."

In the still quiet, Heyes could hear Wheat and Kyle preparing to leave. Staying where he was, he waved he men farewell as they rode by. Then heaving a sigh, he stayed as he was watching the silent, beauty of the falling flakes, recalling holidays gone by. Until at length, he noticed the tracks of the two horses had been obliterated. 'If we're going to travel, we best get to it.' He thought, returning to the fire, he squatted by his cousin, placing the inside of his wrist to Curry's forehead.

"Leave me alone, I'm not going to town."

"What?"

Curry sat up, his face drawn and haggard, "I heard y'all yakking and I already told you, Heyes. I'm in no mood for holiday cheer." A wracking cough welled up, taking over and when it had finished rattling him from one end to the other, Curry spit a green glob into the fire. "Any coffee?"

Heyes handed him a cup, "Snows coming down fast, we need to be pulling out."

"Dang but your stiff-necked. I said, I wasn't going and that is that." Curry snarled, taking a long drink and burrowing down into his bedroll. "Just let me sleep."

"Way I have it figured Kid, is if I don't get rest, I am certain to catch whatever is ailing you. Then we'll both lay here with this cave eventually becoming our tomb."

Curry squinted open one, fever-bright, blue eye, "Heyes, that's the most ridiculous thing I've heard from you in weeks."

"Realistic, you mean."

Curry humphed but fell to coughing again and when he at last caught his air, said, "There's no reason for you not to get any sleep. I don't need you watching over me, every blasted minute."

"Well, I think you do, besides I wouldn't feel right waking up next to a corpse."

"Ah, hellfire, I'm not that sick, Heyes."

A fleeting grin lifted the corners of Heyes' mouth, "Good, then you pack our gear, while I saddle the horses."

Glaring at his older cousin, Curry sat up and ran hand through his blonde curls, "Listen to me Heyes, I am not going to town." Taking up his cup, he took another drink and frowned when he saw the lop-sided grin decorating Heyes' face. "Can't you get what I'm saying through thick head?"

"Doesn't matter really, because you're going; I figure I'm merely going to let you choose how."

A frown set in, that pinched up Curry's whole face.

"You get up and pack and climb on that mule of yours. Or, when you fall asleep next, I'm going to hog-tie you and throw you across him like a deer carcass."

Curry set the cup down, pinning his cousin with a look that had caused many a man to think they needed to be elsewhere.

"You don't ruffle me none, Kid, and you know me better than anyone alive... " Heyes said, pausing to pull his gloves from his pocket and slip them on. "And, you know I'll do it"

Curry shoulders drooped. When he peered at his cousin this time his clear blue eyes reflected the earnestness in his voice. "Heyes, please, don't make me go to town."

Heyes walked away, but before stepping outside, he said, "My apologies, partner, but you got to."  

When Heyes returned, riding his sorrel mare, Curry stepped out of the cave, handing up his cousin's bedroll, rifle, and saddlebags. "You know Heyes, times are you can be the stubbornest, hard-nosed bastard, I ever have to deal with."

"Feelings mutual." Heyes replied.

Tying his belongings to the big black, Curry said, "You realize, I'm not happy with you."

"I know."

"And, I'm only going because, I've no doubt you'll do as you threatened."

"That's because you know, I don't make idle threats."

Curry shoved his rifle in its boot. "Sides with me hog-tied then who would watch your low-down, dirty back. Hell, you'll more than likely ride us straight into trouble and wind up getting us both arrested or worse shot dead."

"More than likely."'

Swinging into his saddle, Curry broke into such a gut-wrenching cough that his horse turned to look at him. When he felt, Heyes poke him and looking, saw he was handing him his whiskey flask. Removing one glove, he took it, spinning off the lid and took a good solid drink. The heat washed through him, easing some of the burning itch of the cough and replacing the lid, he passed it over.

"Keep it." Heyes said, moving out. "And, Kid, if you start thinking you're going to fall off; for once, don't be so bound and determined independent and just inform me."

"I've never fallen off a horse! Been bucked off, even shot off. But, I've never fallen off."

"I know that, Kid, and I figured you'd like to keep your record unscathed." Heyes said, grinning the smile which always annoyed Curry.

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PostSubject: The last of winter   Fri Mar 20, 2015 8:15 am

UNDER THE WEATHER

The weather was atrocious. For the past couple of hours, the boys had ridden through a bitterly-cold, raw, penetrating wind. At first only a few solitary snowflakes had fluttered down from the iron-grey sky. But for the last twenty minutes, the flakes had increased in number, and finally the boys had found themselves riding through a swirling storm of white, which settled on the ground, covering their tracks behind them as they rode.

They had been so glad to get to the trapper's cabin at the edge of the woods. They had brushed the snow from their shoulders, stamped the snow from their boots and pushed open the heavy wooden door of the cabin. It was a relief to be inside, out of the wind.

The Kid put a light to the bundle of kindling lying ready-prepared in the hearth. The flames began to crackle and to take the chill off the room surprisingly quickly. Heyes found and lit the few candles that stood about the cabin. Neither of the boys yet felt warm enough to take off their coats, but when they eventually had a kettle hissing and spluttering on the hob by the fire, things felt better. And, soon after that, they had a pan of stew coming to the boil.

The Kid shivered. “Glad we got here before nightfall,” he said huskily.

Heyes glanced at him. “Throat still sore?” he asked.

“Not much,” Kid replied. I'm just glad to be in here, out of the snow. It seems to be getting worse.”

He looked through the window at the thickly-whirling snowflakes. The wind was making a huge rushing sound in the pines outside.

Without appearing to do so, Heyes was studying his young cousin. Although Curry was extremely independent, twenty-five years old and nearly six feet tall, Heyes still tended to think of him as the vulnerable youngster he used to be. Heyes had felt responsible for the Kid for years, ever since the episode that had shattered their childhood, and he found it impossible to break the habit. He didn't even want to.

Now he was worrying about his cousin's health. For some reason, the Kid seemed to catch influenza at some point every winter. Perhaps having pneumonia as a child had left him susceptible. Last year, snowed-in at a cabin in gold-mining country, Curry had had a particularly bad bout of flu. He had even fainted. A doctor, another hopeful gold-miner like themselves, had actually said he had pneumonia. The doctor had turned out to be wrong, but inwardly Heyes shuddered at the thought of the Kid's being ill like that again.

The Kid hadn't seemed well that morning, even before their snowy ride. When most people had cold or flu, they looked shocking, watery-eyed and red-nosed. Not Kid. When he was ill, he always looked pale and fragile, with dark smudges under his eyes. Exactly as he looked now. Heyes made up his mind. He unstoppered his flask of whisky and poured a generous slug into the mug of coffee that Kid was now holding.

“Why don't you get close to the fire, and try and thaw out!” he said in a joking tone. (The Kid did not like you to fuss about him).

“I will later - ” Kid replied, coughing. (“I knew it!” thought Heyes, listening to the hacking rasp).

“- But I was just about to go out and bring in some of those logs from the pile,” finished the Kid.

“We'll get them afterwards,” said Heyes, quickly thinking to himself: “I'll get them. There's no way he's going out there again tonight.”

The Kid seemed to accept this postponement, and sipped thoughtfully at his coffee.


* * *

The ex-outlaw slowly opened his eyes. The light from the window seemed to be surprisingly bright and glaring. He closed his eyes again, and realised that he had a thumping headache, a very sore throat and that for some reason he felt absolutely exhausted. When he opened his eyes again, it was to see a pair of blue eyes looking concernedly into his own.

“Kid!” he croaked. “How are you?”

The Kid managed to smile. “How am I?” he said. “I'm fine. I think the real question is how are you? How are you feeling?”

Heyes opened his mouth to say “ fine” and then realised that he didn't feel fine at all. He felt awful.

“I feel awful,” he said.

The Kid looked at him gravely. “I'm not surprised,” he said. “You've had quite a nasty dose of flu.”

“Me?” said Heyes. “I thought you were the one who was getting flu.”

It was Kid's turn to look surprised. “What gave you that idea?” he asked. “ I'm all right. I suppose I had a bit of a cold the other day when we got here. But it didn't last. I was just a bit under the weather, that's all. You're the one who really got a bug.”

Heyes was silent, gazing at him. Eventually he realised he was feeling just a little bit better. “Is there any soup?” he said at last. He looked over at the window again where a few gleams of pallid, very uncertain sunshine were starting to appear.

“What's happened to the weather? It doesn't look so bad.”

“It's not too bad at all!” was the reply. “After all, it is nearly spring. The snow can't last for ever! And this seems to be the first winter for years that I haven't been ill at all, (touch wood!).”

“So it does,” said H with a wry smile.




***






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InsideOutlaw

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PostSubject: Re: Mar 15 - Under the Weather   Sat Mar 28, 2015 12:58 pm

“Quit your bellyachin’, you ain’t gonna make me change my mind!” snapped Kid Curry as he reined his horse up outside of the cemetery fence.  He dismounted his gelding and, without looking up at his dark-haired partner, tied the reins to one of the iron pickets.  Leaving Heyes astride, Curry walked around to the rusted gate and opened it as far as it would go, slipping inside.  He quickly saw the older graves were nearer to the gate and strode towards the newer headstones he saw at the back of the graveyard.  The disrupted mounds of earth hadn’t settled on several plots and he started with those.  It wasn’t but a moment before he found what he was looking for:  Danny Bilson’s final resting place.  He stared at the plain, wooden cross that simply stated the man’s name and the date he’d died.  Not that the Kid would ever forget that day.


Heyes walked up and stopped next to his partner.  “Okay, we’ve seen it.  Can we go now?”


“Give me a minute.”


Heyes wandered up and down the row contemplating the inscriptions, or lack thereof, on the crude headstones and crosses.  A light wind blew out of the south and the sun shone brightly through the cloudy, blue sky.  Occasionally, he glanced back at where his partner stood until he finally decided this had gone on too long and walked back to Bilson’s grave.


The Kid still wore a grim expression and stared sightlessly at the tangle of weeds and brambles that covered the slightly humped ground.  An errant gust of wind blew dead leaves across Curry’s feet.  Heyes had objected to the whole idea of this visit.  He’d argued until he was blue in the face but the Kid had made up his mind and refused to be swayed.  Not even the risk of being spotted and recognized would prevent him from visiting Bilson.  


Heyes remembered how long the Kid had worn that awful mustache and carried a chip on his shoulder after the shootout.  Apparently, he was still hurting over it all.  Feeling contrite for not sympathizing, Heyes dropped a hand on his partner’s shoulder and squeezed tightly.  “There wasn’t anything else you could’ve done, Kid.  Bilson forced your play.”


Roused from his musings, Curry glanced sideways at Heyes.  “You think that’s what this is all about?  I regret killin’ Danny?”  He smiled.  “If he rose up outta that hole he’s in, I’d be glad to kill him all over again.  If ever a man had needed killin’, it was Bilson.”


Heyes was taken aback by the statement and was uncertain where this was going.  “So why’d you have to come?”


“I was never upset he died, Heyes.  What ate at me was that I felt justified in takin’ his life.”


“Justified?”


“Yep, and that made me wonder about me.  What gave me the right to judge him and execute him?”


“You didn’t execute him, Kid.  He drew on you.  You told me yourself he was too fast.  So fast you couldn’t risk not shooting to kill.”


“That’s true,” nodded Curry, “but I also wanted to kill him and that’s what bothered me.  It was Bilson who forced me to see myself as a killer.”


“You’re no killer…”


“I killed him.  Simple as that.  I am a killer, Heyes, and none of your sweet-talkin’s gonna change that.”


“Well you don’t take pleasure in it.  Bilson did.”  Heyes looked out across the small valley below them.  The sun had dimmed and the clouds dominated the vista.  There was a storm coming.  His gaze shifted to the small town nestled in the central meadow.  It was the same as he remembered, but he and the Kid had changed.  “So why’d you come?”


“To see if I felt any different now that some time’s passed.”


“Do you?”


“I don’t know.  I never saw him laid to rest.  We just rode out of town as quick as we could.  For a long time, it was as though it never happened.  It seemed like a dream.  No, more like a nightmare.  I thought maybe if I saw him like this, saw his grave, it might change things for me,” said Curry, shrugging.  “It was just a shot in the dark.”


“Naw, it was daylight.”


Confused, Curry turned to Heyes.  “What?”  


“You said a shot in the dark, but it was a shot in the day.”  Heyes chuckled.  “I don’t feel bad about Bilson either.  He wanted to own the whole town and he was willing to do anything to get it, including killing whoever stood in his way.  Well, he bought the farm all right, but at least he was lucky enough to die with his boots on.”


The Kid grinned.  “You really wanna know what I was thinkin’?  I was thinkin’ it was kinda ironic that here Bilson was supposedly pushin’ up daisies and all that was growin’ was weeds.  Kinda fittin’, isn’t it?”


Heyes laughed.  “My guess is he met his maker and there ain’t no garden in Hell.”  A cloud blotted out the sun and the chilly shadow it cast caused Heyes to look up.  A small drop of rain fell on his face.


“Well, I ain’t about to dance on his grave, but I’m still not sorry he bit the dust,” said Curry.


“Danny had no idea he was cashing in his chips when he called you out.  He wasn’t planning to give up the ghost; he probably figured it’d be you to hop on the last rattler.”


“Yep. And here he lies, dead as a doornail, takin' a dirt nap.”  Rain started to pelt down on them.  The Kid took one last look at the grave and then turned his back on it.  Heyes fell into step next to him and they hurried to their horses as the rain intensified.  Untying the animals, they quickly swung into their saddles and galloped towards the forest’s edge.  Once under the shelter of the trees, they slowed to a jog.


“Heyes, do you think Bilson knew he was kickin’ the bucket?”


“Naw.  He had no idea it was lights out, but one thing I know for sure…”


“What?”


“He’s feeling under the weather right about now.”

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


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ty pender

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PostSubject: Re: Mar 15 - Under the Weather   Sat Mar 28, 2015 5:46 pm

Under the Weather


As I am currently huddled and shivering under a duvet on the couch, surrounded by damp tissues and going for the 'most moaning directed at a long-suffering husband spoiuse in an 48 hour period' award, I


cannot be my unusually chipper and cheerful self setting ,emeetin this challenge.
  sorrykitty


(Snort, honk) oooooo ahg!



Kid to Joya – what’s up with the nxt episode joya – havn’t heard a thing…

Joya to Kid  (she takes a deep drag off ceegr)



Dark angst this one Kid, Heyes gets his chance He wantede to have at least one episode where he could show off his angsty acting, you know get serious,  However - it will have the customary non-singular interpretation

kid - oh brother

joya - yaya, no boom boom bang bang bang et.al. absolutism, crisp plot lines...all NUANCE

so ….he’s out working on his expressions and lines Huggisn waiting for real bad weather day…should be soon….

Kid – nothn fer me then –

Joya – you got sumpin – hands him script- kids exit stage back

Day of shooting – Cold, no heat inroom, no light – no money….  Heyes has a cold and is near darkened window  splattered with sleet ansnow…

Heyes -Shooting in the dark, no one can see any faces clearly.  Heyts – this isn’t right, the viewers won’t asee my face – I’ve been working on myexpressions and I thingk they’re important.   !!!!

Roy - No, it’ll be OK – the viewers are goingto see what they want to see, - the dark lighting increases the angst effect- you’ll seee in the edit – it’ll work

They start shooting…



(Snort, honk) oooooo ahg!

He is waint of rKidto return, who has promised to get money playing cards – what willhappen ifthe doesn’t return …wring hands blearh w/faint I'd with teers from grief/cold miserable  doey brown yes exude TEARS of grief/unease/disease rolling down side of dimpled cheek over sculpeted jaw line down tender neck of youth gone wrong where hanging rope may yet slice into skin ending all hop of

(Snort, honk) oooooo ahg!

Kidcomes back all cheery _ waving champagn bttle, subs and most ofall Kleenex tissues I won! Iwon! , stop being so angst, hotel keeper comin up with two baths and hot water- let’s break out those tow goodcigars andcelebrate life!!!

They strip – they dip they drip the hot water feels great

(Snort, honk) oooooo ahg!

– troubles melt away feels  warms suds slide off his musckled arms and chest  blah blah blah

Lightingstrikes – monentary flash of light

Wait! That’s not Heyes!  What’s going on here?

Huggins – cut cut  Kid – are you out of yoiur mind?

Kid - THAT SNOT HAZE!!! We have to havethereal Heyes – the audience will be confused

No they won’t – the lighting is all dark – they’llnever see enoughto know the difference,  besides if they see just a little something out of whak it won’t matter because they are goingtosee what they want to see anyway

OK Kid – keep yuour cool and follow thescript, hoopee fully we’llgetout from under the weaether andthere won’t be any more lightning strikes.

The tub scence begtan to roll again.  The boys started sudsing up with esprit de corps and joie de vivre, or was that la joie d'un mensonge?

Aother ligghtningstrike-

Roy- Cut!Cut! damn weather!  If we get out from under the weather we can finis this d… angsty thang..

Kid gets out of tub – Joya looks askanc “I’m outta here – I’ll be back next episode..

Roy – Hu?? Huggins turned to Joya and joked – this Heyes  has a better chest- don’t you think?

Joya - deep drag off the stub of Marsh Wheeling. “Frankly,” she responDS, “these tub scenes make me puke.”

Huggins - Ok,Ok let’s end it here – one last shot of Heyes in tub….roll



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PostSubject: Re: Mar 15 - Under the Weather   Tue Mar 31, 2015 8:10 am

Penski, I did it! blimey

---------------------

"Do you see anything?"

Drucker barely glanced at the tense man standing next to him.

"Can't see a blasted thing in this weather," Drucker complained. He wiped his palm across the steam that had built up on the window and absent-mindedly dried his hand on his pants leg. "It's raining cats and dogs. Nobody's coming out in this."

"Don't be so sure," the other man said. "Your ordinary crook, sure, they'd lay low. But we ain't talkin' ordinary. We're talking the Devil's Hole Gang and they --" a loud, long roll of thunder punctuated his words. Both men waited till it faded away, echoing in the distance. The raindrops came down heavier and fatter, slapping against the window like buckshot.

"We're wasting our time here, Sheriff Thatcher. Not even Heyes and Curry would dare to come out in this kind of storm."

"Uh uh," Thatcher disagreed. "My deputies heard that gang knows all about that big mine payroll of yours, Mr. Drucker. If'n you want to keep your money safe in this here bank until it goes out tomorrow on the stage, we all got to stand guard tonight."

"'Course," Thatcher went on, "you don't need to be here your own self. Between me and my two deputies, your money's safe." He stood straighter, pushing his chest out in pride. The battered tin star he wore caught the reflection of the lightning strikes that danced around the building. The stale moist air inside the Bucktown Federal Security Bank tingled with electricity.

Drucker looked over at the two deputies sitting on the railing. The older deputy, Morgenson, was rubbing his low back with both hands. The other, Williams, was coughing loudly and wetly into his handkerchief. Both men straightened up quickly when they saw the mine owner look at them. Drucker restrained himself from sighing out loud.

"Who are you trying to kid, Sheriff, me or you? Them two are so far under the weather, they're drowning. They couldn't protect a field mouse from a kitten."

"So does that mean you're stayin' here with us then?" Sheriff Thatcher said. He was trying his darndest to be polite, but dang nab it! He was plum sick and tired of having to defend his men from this bean pole with a big wallet. Thatcher had heard it was easier to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter heaven. He felt pretty sure Drucker would be rubbing his nose against the pearly gates on judgment day, looking inside and a-wishin' he'd treated people like him and his hard-working deputies a little better when he'd had the chance.

Drucker looked up to the heavens for help, but, as usual, found none there. He was left with these three so-called lawmen. This time, a deep, frustrated sigh escaped him. He didn't notice Thatcher's eyes narrow with annoyance.

"I suppose I am. Only a fool would go out on a night like this if he didn't have to, and I'm thinking of the Devil's Hole Gang when I say that. They're too smart to come out in this kind of weather."

"It's a gully-washer for sure," Thatcher agreed. "But I don't agree with you about that gang. They're smart, alright. That's why nobody's caught them, leastways not for long. They do what we don't expect, Mr. Drucker. And if we expect even the crooks to stay in on a night like that, why, they might play us and figure to take your payroll when we think they won't."

"Whatever you say, Sheriff. It is better to be cautious. Even so, I think Heyes and Curry and their gang are hunkered down somewhere nice and warm, far away from here."

"That may be and it may not be. I got me a feelin' they ain't far though." Thatcher turned back to the window, watching the rain as it seemed to come down sideways. "I trust my feelings, and somehow, I feel they's right near by us."

000000

"Do you HAVE to do that in here?"

Kyle Murtree's eyes widened in surprise.

"I gots to spit somewheres, Heyes," Kyle said. "'Sides, you ain't never complained before."

"I've never been cheek to jowl with all of you in a leaky tent before," Heyes replied. "I'm getting wet enough without you spitting tobacco juice in here."

"Well, whose fault is that? Didn't I say all the crickets were chirpin'?" Heyes and Curry exchanged a quick, long-suffering glance. Wheat was consistent, if nothing else. "I told y'all a storm was a-comin' and she'd be a humdinger. Ain't that right, Kyle?" Kyle nodded enthusiastically.

"You sure did, Wheat," Kyle agreed. "That's why you got us this tent from that medicine show feller. You said it'd do the trick and you sure was right. We's snug as bugs in a rug. "Cepting for all the leaks, 'course, and they ain't really that bad, are they boys?"

The members of the Devil's Hole Gang all turned to stare silently at Wheat, who coughed a little harder than he needed to. Heyes scratched his chin to hide his smile. Curry let the tension hold for a minute or two, just long enough for Wheat to squirm, before he took pity on the older man and changed the subject.

"At least we're safe enough here and close to the Bucktown Pike. I don't think anybody's out looking for us tonight in this weather. And any trails we left are done washed away by now."

"That's true enough," Preacher agreed quickly. He was always the peacemaker in the group. The last thing he wanted was conflict in these tight, uncomfortable quarters. "The thunder's so loud, though, I don't think we'd even hear a shot in the dark. But Heyes, I got to tell you, I'm still some worried. That sheriff in Bucktown knows we been around. He's got to figure we heard about the payroll and we're going to make a run on it."

"That's what I'm counting on, Preacher. They're looking for us to hit the bank. I figure they're spending the whole night there, drinking coffee, trying to stay awake,

thinking they're going to surprise us when we break in overnight. But this is the Devil's Hole Gang, and we're successful because we don't do what lawmen expect us to do. They don't expect us to hit the stagecoach in the morning. When we ambush them on the Bucktown Pike, they'll be plumb worn out from staying up all night. It'll be like taking candy from a baby. By this time tomorrow night, we'll have $50,000 to split up between us."

Tension melted away as the outlaws leaned back to consider $50,000. Even Wheat's lips curled up reluctantly in a smile that was barely visible beneath his luxurious mustache.

"Time to hit the hay, fellas," Curry said. "Else we'll be too tired to get up on time, and that stage'll go on without us. We'll take turns staying awake to make damn sure we don't oversleep. By this time tomorrow, we'll be rich."

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PostSubject: Re: Mar 15 - Under the Weather   Tue Mar 31, 2015 6:09 pm

Under the Weather


Kid Curry tied his bedroll to the back of his saddle.  “Sure is a beautiful day!”

“Uh huh,” Hannibal Heyes agreed as he tightened the cinch around his horse.

“Yep, should be a nice easy job delivering these papers to that lawyer in the next town.  Not too far to go and we’re been here long enough.”

“Uh huh.”

Heyes?”

“What?”

“You feelin’ all right?”

“Yeah, why you ask?”  Heyes looked up, his face showing some color.

“Maybe ‘cause you ain’t talkin’ all the time like normal.”  Curry looked intently at his partner.  “And you’re lookin’ a little flush.”

“I’m fine.”

Curry didn’t look convinced.

“Well, my stomach is a little upset,” Heyes admitted, “but we aren’t going far.  I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.  Got those papers?”

“Yep, here in my saddle bag.”  Heyes patted his left bag and then mounted.  “Let’s get going.”


~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Five miles out of town, Heyes lead over his partner diminished until he was a few steps behind.  He pushed up his hat and wiped the perspiration from his forehead.  His mouth watered as a wave of nausea hit him.

Curry sighed contently as he enjoyed the ride.  Heyes was being quiet and he could hear the birds singing, the frogs croaking, the crickets, and a horse whinnying.  Kid looked back to where the sound of the horse came from and noticed Heyes’ horse standing back a hundred feet… with no rider.

“Heyes?  Heyes?” he said a bit louder as he reined in his horse and turned to go back.

Heyes’ horse took a few steps to greet his gelding partner and Curry dismounted.  He grabbed both sets of reins and tied them around a branch before looking around.  “Heyes!”

Retching sounds came from behind a bush.

“There you are… you okay?”

“Do I sound okay?” can a muffled voice.

“Can I get you somethin’?”

“Just leave me alone.”

Curry nodded his head and sat down under a tree by the horses.  “If you need anything, just yell.”  He stretched out and pulled his hat down over his eyes.


~ * ~ * ~ * ~

An hour later, the Kid pushed his hat back up, stood up and brushed the dirt from his backside.  He ventured over by the bush.  “Heyes?”

“What?”

“How are you feelin’?”

“Terrific,” Heyes moaned.

“Think it was somethin’ you ate?”

“I dunno.”

“We have to get them papers delivered before five o’clock.”

“I know.”  More retching was heard.

“Sheesh,” the Kid muttered to himself.  “Heyes, how about I deliver them papers and come back for you?  We’re about half way there.  I could hurry along and be back in about four hours.”

“Okay.”

The Kid walked back to the horses and untied Heyes’ bedroll and canteen.  He took the items over to the bush.  “I’m comin’ in there.”

When he got no response, Curry walked between the two large bushes to see his partner doubled over in pain getting sick again.

“Dang, Heyes!  You look awful!”

“Thanks.”

Curry shook the bedroll out, placing it in the shade.  He removed his bandana and poured water from the canteen on it.  “Here.”  He sat on his haunches and handed the wet cloth to Heyes.

Heyes glanced up and took the proffered bandana.  He wiped his face and sighed.  “That feels better.”

“Can you sit up and drink some water?”

Heyes shook his head.

“You gotta drink somethin’ or you’ll get sicker.”  Curry held out the canteen.

Again, Heyes shook his head.

“Heyes, take a sip of water!  You can spit it out, but take some,” the Kid said in his outlaw voice.

“Fine.”  Heyes forced himself to sit up and took a sip from the canteen.  “You happy?”

“Yep.  I put your bedroll out in the shade.  Why don’t you make your way over there and get outta the sun?  I’ll bring your horse back here so no one from the road will see the two of you while I’m gone.”

“Where you going?  You're not leaving me here to die, are you?

“Nope, just deliverin' that package like we just discussed.  I’ll be back before nightfall.”  Curry left the seclusion of the bushes and walked over to the horses.  He transferred the papers to his own saddlebag and took Heyes’ horse over by him.  He hobbled the horse and went over to Heyes.

“I see you don’t listen well.”

“Uh?”

“You’ll be more comfortable on your bedroll in the shade than wallowin’ in the dirt over here.”  Curry held out his hand.  “Come on.  Get up and mover over there.”

Heyes glared. “Didn’t I tell you to leave me alone?”

“Yep and I will, as soon as you move.”

Heyes uncurled and placed his arm over his stomach as he took the Kid’s hand to stand up.  He moved over by the bedroll and lay down.  “Happy?”

“Yep.”  Curry set the canteen down on the bedroll.  “Here’s the water so you can drink some while I’m gone.”  He started to walk away, but stopped and turned.  “Need anything else?”

“No, just go.”  Heyes turned and got sick again.


~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The sky was various hues of oranges and pinks as the fiery ball descended into the horizon.

The Kid dismounted his horse and started walking toward the bushes.  He stopped when he heard a gun cock.  “Heyes, it’s me.”

The hammer was released and Curry led his horse between the shrubs.  “Feelin’ any better?”

“Kid, just shoot me!” Heyes gasped.  He lay curled up with his arms around his mid-section.

The Kid drew his gun and Heyes’ eyes widened.

“I didn’t mean it.”

Curry smiled.  “I know.  Thought I’d clean my gun before it gets too dark.  Hey, gimme your gun.  While you're busy doin' whatever it is you're doin, i might as well clean your gun, too.

Heyes pointed to his weapon.  “Take it.”

The Kid reached down for the Schofield.  “Have you been drinkin’ water?”

“Trying.”

“I brought sandwiches back for us – want one?”

Heyes shook his head.  “Don’t mention food and don’t eat them around me.”

“Okay, I’ll just go over there while you be sick over here.  Don’t need to smell that while I’m eatin’.”

The Kid sat near the entrance of the clearing between the two bushes, ate his sandwich, and cleaned the guns.  He looked over at Heyes as twilight set in and saw that his partner was finally sleeping.  Curry got up and covered Heyes with a blanket and then settled down to sleep himself.


~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Heyes woke up early the next morning feeling much better.  He took a sip of water and swished it around his mouth to get the awful taste out of it.  He stood up, stretched, and went over to his partner, curled under a blanket.

“Kid, you wake?”

“No!” Curry growled.

“Did you leave me a sandwich?”

“Go away, Heyes!”  Kid Curry turned away and retched.

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