Alias Smith and Jones Writers A forum devoted to writers of Alias Smith and Jones Fan Fiction |
| | July 2020 - Empty Seats | |
| | Author | Message |
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Calico
Posts : 878 Join date : 2012-04-22 Age : 59 Location : Birmingham
| Subject: July 2020 - Empty Seats Wed Jul 01, 2020 12:22 pm | |
| Hello to one and all Everyone still coping with the working from home and queuing for the shops and all??? Thinking of ex-outlaws and being able to sit on their knees without a mask?? Well, I this months challenge MAY have been prompted by changes restaurants have to make... OR Possibly by poor old folk being disappointed at the expected crowds not turning up in the numbers expected... OR just by the fact it could let out the odd poignant thought. Dust off your keyboards with an antiseptic wipe and consider "Empty Seats' And ... for Saturday... | |
| | | Nightwalker
Posts : 106 Join date : 2018-04-16 Age : 53 Location : Germany
| Subject: Re: July 2020 - Empty Seats Mon Jul 13, 2020 5:40 am | |
| Pets I’m sitting at the poker table, panning the room. A place just opened and I’m checking out who’s up to join our game. The seat beside me is empty now. My partner is gone. He went upstairs with his chosen lady of the night. The other players think I’m easy prey now. It’s just too obvious. I would love to laugh out loud, but I keep my face straight and innocent, my talk nice and easy. Isn’t it funny how folks are always trying to put people in boxes? They look, but they don’t see, and still they judge the world from their limited point of view. I heard them calling Kid Curry my pet, my tamed gunman, living only to back me up, giving him no more value than the speed and accuracy of his gun. How wrong they are. Usually I do the talking, the thinking, but that doesn’t mean the Kid has shortcomings in that department, neither am I unskilled in shooting. We just made an agreement; one we both are comfortable with, using our respective talents to our mutual advantage. Kid Curry is a keen man, wise, wiser than me some people would say, if they knew him as well as I know him. I would have met my maker a hundred times without him or ended up in prison. Maybe he has more common sense than me. He grounds me. Would I ever tell him? Hell, no! He would never grow tired of throwing it back to me with a straight face or a smug smile depending on his mood. He knows what he has to know. That I trust him. Always. He would never talk back in front of others, that is, unless I really get carried away and things get dangerous. In that case he would never hold back with his opinion. He’ll always back me up if things get out of hand, but if it was my fault, he’d be sure to make me regret it as soon as we are alone. He has a way to make me pay over and over again. Never get fooled by those innocent blue eyes of his. Some folks see his strength, his iron will. They would never underestimate him. They tend to take me as foolhardy - as his pet - a leader by his grace. They call me his puppet who interacts with the world for him, he who likes to keep his thoughts to himself and rather observes inconspicuously from the background. Does he play me? No. He’s frank and as straight forward as a man can be. He would never trick me. Would I manipulate him? Well, I’ve got to admit, I’ve tried. Did it work? Rarely. Did he notice it? Often. Did I regret it? You bet! Has it always been that way? Of course, not. Perfection doesn’t grow on trees; you’ve got to earn it. In the beginning we had our fair share of disagreements and fights, both of us strong-headed and born to lead. We had our lessons to learn, but now we have reached a point where we are hard to match. We complete each other; step in whenever it is needed, knowing the other one better than ourselves - heart and soul. Together we are more than the sum of our skills; so much more. We don’t own one another. We’re friends, a team, equal partners. Never cross one of us. You never will deal with one of us alone. And together we’re unbeatable. _________________ "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." -Dr. Seuss
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| | | HannaHeyes
Posts : 601 Join date : 2012-04-22 Age : 48 Location : The Hideout
| Subject: Re: July 2020 - Empty Seats Wed Jul 15, 2020 10:40 pm | |
| A/N - I haven’t posted a story here in a long while and wanted to join in again :)
A/N 2 - Pretty sure I got the story down to 2996 words without the author’s notes.
A/N 3 - In the ASJ tradition of, sort of on occasion, not paying any attention whatsoever to what year something was actually invented or built, I offer you this fluff full of nonsense. Imagine, if you will, a certain couple of games were developed a few decades earlier, (one with a few of the board square names and cards changed), and found its way to Devil's Hole one year, (via Heyes of course), to help with the boredom of a snowed in Winter...
—————————-
“What's that you got there, Heyes?"
"Well, Kid, remember that last town we picked up supplies in? I found this board game I'd never seen before and it sounds like it'd be right up our alley. It's called Monopoly and the object of the game is to get as much money and property as you can. There's even a banker's job of keeping up with the money in it!"
"Sounds like a game right up YOUR alley."
"Aw, c'mon, Kid. Where's your competitiveness at? Aren't you tired of playing the same old games to pass the time? This could be fun!"
"Could be fun for YOU. Sounds like that requires a lot of strategy. And who you plan on playin' with? Half the bunch 'round here have a hard time playin' checkers the right way."
"Scared you can't beat me?" A sly grin appeared.
Kid Curry bristled. "NO, I ain't scared of not beatin' you! I beat you at Tiddlywinks all the time and you know it, even though you make me sit twice as far back from the cup as you do."
"You know that's the only fair way to play that with you!"
Now Curry grinned. "Well, maybe if somebody would practice his shootin' every now and then, we could play it the right way."
"I hit what I aim at!"
"Not in that game ya don't."
Heyes rolled his eyes and chose to ignore that remark. "You wanna try this or not?"
"Well, you probably won't shut up 'til I do, so go ahead, set it up."
Heyes smiled broadly as he cleared the kitchen table and set up the new game. "Look at all this stuff, Kid! This should be interesting."
Kid just kind of rolled his eyes as he looked at all the pieces being set out. "What's all this stuff for? We'll be a month just tryin' to figure out what to do in this game." He sat down at the table and picked up a square, green piece of wood. "Like this. What's this for?"
Heyes reached over and plucked it out of his cousin's hand, setting it in a pile with the others. "That, I believe, is a house." Having gotten all of the game pieces and board out and in their appropriate places, he sat across the table and started reading the rules on the box lid.
"How is that a house? It's just a green piece of wood. Don't even got a roof on it."
"It just is, Kid. Now, be quiet and let me read."
Kid sighed, already regretting that he agreed to play this mess of a game. He picked through the rest of the pieces and some of the cards while he waited for his cousin to figure the game out. He held up one of the cards and read. "Get out of jail free. Be nice if this would work in a real sheriff's office."
Heyes just grunted as he continued to read.
The blond gunman picked up another card. "You have won second prize in a beauty contest. What in the world...?"
Again, Heyes just gave a wordless reply.
Kid looked up at his partner and grinned. "How 'bout this one? Hannibal Heyes gets captured. Everybody celebrates."
Heyes finally looked up annoyed. "It don't say that!"
"Just wonderin' if you were listenin'."
"I always listen to you, Kid... when you make sense.... Now hurry up and hush. I'm almost done."
Kid sighed as he decided to shuffle the two sets of cards sitting on the board.
———————————-
After spending a few minutes explaining the game to Kid, they were ready to play.
"I'll be the banker," Heyes said pulling the tray of money next to him.
"How come you get to handle the money? I think I should. My fingers aren't as sticky."
Heyes sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine. We'll flip for it."
—————————-
Heyes handed out the appropriate amount of money to each of them and, after Kid counted the two piles to see if they both had the same amount along with earning a glare from Heyes, FINALLY, they were ready to play. Heyes was just about to roll the dice when there was a knock at the door. The two looked up at each other and Heyes called out, "WHO IS IT?"
"Wheat and Kyle. Open up."
"Go answer the door, Kid."
"No, I don't think so. Half my money'd be gone when I got back."
"Kid, you're starting to give me the impression that you don't trust me."
"You're right. I don't... least not in a game involvin' money."
Heyes looked annoyed once more and defensively said, "You're just as larcenous as I am."
"Don't think so. Ain't nobody as larcenous as you."
"Well that's their problem."
"I'm not leavin' the table unless you or the money goes with me. Don't think I ain't noticed you've already scooted that money tray a little closer to you twice."
Heyes shook his head at him. "Okay, FINE. We'll BOTH go answer the door."
—————————-
The front door opened and Heyes and Curry stood looking at Wheat and Kyle.
"What do you two want?" Heyes asked.
"What's a matter, Heyes? You 'fraid to answer the door by yerself?"
"Shut up, Wheat. What do you want?"
Wheat started to speak as Kyle poked his head around the other three men to look in the leader's cabin. "Well, Lobo was wondering..."
Kyle interrupted him when he caught a glimpse of the table. "Whatcha doin' in there?"
Wheat looked at his partner with an aggravated expression.
"We're gettin' ready to play a game," Kid replied. "Now, Wheat, what was you sayin'?"
Kyle's eyes lit up like a three year old on Christmas. "Can we's play with ya?"
Heyes hesitated. "Well, Kyle, it's a complicated game. You have to be able to read good."
Wheat huffed up. "You think we's too dumb ta play that there game with you two?"
"No, I'm just saying you may not like it," Heyes said.
"Now how do you know? We may love it. Heck, we may even beat you. I'll help Kyle with anything he can't read."
“There isn’t any empty chairs in there for you to sit in.”
“But I sees two empty chairs right there we’s can use,” Kyle explained.
Heyes sighed as his head dropped. He knew the two gang members would never shut up about it if he didn't let them play and right now, at the beginning of Winter, he didn't need upset gang members to deal with all season long. "Fine. C'mon in and sit down."
Kyle grinned a tobacco stained smile and all but ran to the table and sat down as he peeled his coat off. "Wooee, lookee here at all this stuff. What'll we do with it?"
It took Heyes about twenty minutes to get the game rules across to Wheat and Kyle. It didn't help that Kyle kept asking questions every ten seconds. Heyes counted them out their share of money and they all chose a token.
"I want's them red squares. They's the color of dynamite," Kyle said enthusiatically.
"If you want them, you have to land on them," the outlaw leader explained... again.
Kyle stood up and looked to be about to climb on the table.
Heyes grabbed the short man's vest. "NO... no, Kyle. Your PLAYING PIECE has to land on them, not you."
Kid looked skyward.
Wheat stifled a laugh.
Kyle sat back down.
"Well, I'm gonna buy the jailhouse and throw all you all in it. That way, I'll win 'cause I'll be able to get everything then," Wheat declared.
Heyes closed his eyes to calm himself some. "You can't buy the jail."
"You said we could buy any property we land on," Wheat complained.
The dark-haired leader gripped the bridge of his nose. "I said any property that had a PRICE on it."
"Well, then I declare myself the sheriff and the jail is mine," Wheat reasoned.
"THERE IS NO SHERIFF AND YOU CANNOT BUY THE JAIL!"
"Calm down, Heyes before you blow up that blood vessel poppin' out on the side of your head."
"Wheat. Just play the game," Kid warned.
————————
Heyes rolled the dice and landed on Community Chest. He picked up a card and read aloud. "It is your birthday. Collect $10 from every player. Alright boys, hand it over."
"I think you made that up. Your birthday ain't fer another three months. I ain't givin' you nothin'," Wheat complained.
Heyes stuck the card in Carlson's face. "Read it for yourself. Now, give me $10."
Wheat snorted like a horse and reluctantly handed over the money.
"Thank you," Heyes smiled as he straightened his stack of ten dollar bills.
"Ya ain't welcome."
It was Kyle's turn next. He let the dice fly and landed on the 'Go To Jail' square. He frowned as he recognized it by the Sheriff's star drawn on the square. "Ahh, dang it."
Wheat laughed and pushed Kyle's token to the 'In Jail' area.
Kyle whispered to the player next to him. "Hey, Kid. Come break me out."
"He can't break you out of jail. I done told you the first four times you were in there how you could get out," Heyes said.
Kyle looked at his leader and innocently asked, "When did you start follering rules that you didn't make?"
Heyes stared at him a minute with dark eyes. "Kyle, if we don't play a game by the rules, it'd just turn into chaos."
"Huh? What's kaa..os?"
"It'd turn into a confusing mess."
"Well it's already that," Wheat intervened.
Heyes' eyes turned to him. "You're just upset 'cause you're losing right now."
Wheat looked indignant. "Not fer long..."
———————
After an hour and a half, and many more times of explaining a rule or four, all the properties had been claimed. Kid and Wheat each had two railroads, and neither would bargain with the other to collect all four. Kid also owned the whole top row of the board. Heyes owned most of the right hand side and bottom of the board. Wheat had acquired the two brown properties located next to the 'Go' square. Kyle had his red squares he so desired as well as the light blue set and the two utilities (which here was the General Store and Water Well). Almost everybody had some houses with the exception of Heyes who had at least three hotels on his properties.
Kyle rolled, and after moving his token, decided to build some houses. As he happily sat the square green houses on Oriental and Connecticut Avenue, he proudly declared, "I ain't buildin' houses. I's buildin' CAThouses!"
Kid just rubbed his face as he rolled the dice and moved, landing on the 'Livery Stable' (Free Parking) square. This game was fast getting on his nerves. "Why is this place even on the board? It don't do nothin'. I think somebody come up with this game to see how many people it'd drive crazy."
Heyes smiled. "Ain't nothing wrong with this game, Kid. You own plenty of places."
"Yeah, but by some 'weird' coincidence, YOU never land on one."
"Luck of the dice." Heyes grinned that infuriatingly cocky grin.
"Well I've landed on them enough. You 'bout broke me up, Kid," Wheat complained.
"You can always quit."
"Nuh-uh. I ain't a quittin'! I'm gonna win this whole thing!"
"Not if I can help it," Heyes chimed in.
Wheat sneered at the outlaw leader as he took the dice in his hand. He rolled, picked up his token, and started counting. "Ten, eleven, twelve..." Then we he saw he was about to land on one of Kid's properties which had three houses on it. "Uh...thirteen," he said as he moved over the orange property to the 'Community Chest' square.
Kid immediately caught what Wheat had done and grabbed his wrist as he reached to pick up a card. "Oh no you don't, Wheat. You can't roll a thirteen with two dice. You just back your butt up one space."
Wheat's expression turned flustered and red, but he moved his piece back onto St. James Place.
"Now, you owe me $550. Hand it over."
Wheat looked down at his dwindling pile of money, then back up at Kid defiantly. "I ain't payin' ya this time 'round."
Kid narrowed his eyes at him. "You have to. That's the price of rent."
"Well, consider me moved out." Wheat once again moved his token one space forward.
"YOU CAN'T DO THAT!" Kid yelled.
"Yeah I can. I sneaked out in the middle of the night." Wheat suddenly found himself staring down the barrel of Kid's Colt.
"I said you owe me $550. Now you gonna give it to me or do I have ta take it?"
Kyle laughed the whole time while Heyes tried to hide his amusement.
Wheat hurriedly counted out the money and gave it to the irate Kid Curry. "There. Ya happy?! I only got's $300 left."
"If you gonna play, you gonna pay," Kid said in a calm voice as he holstered his gun and situated the new additions to his money.
It was Heyes' turn to roll. He landed exactly on 'Go'. He smiled. "Looks like I just got 200 more dollars."
Kid looked at the growing mountain of colorful cash in front of his cousin. "Heyes, I've noticed that everytime you get change from the bank, your pile of money grows more than it should."
Heyes looked up. "You're hallucinating, Kid."
Kid looked perplexed for just a split second. "You tryin' ta tell me you ain't slippin' yourself a few extra hundreds everytime you touch that money?"
Heyes looked him straight in the eyes. "Of course not."
Kid eyes narrowed once again. "Course not WHAT? NOT tryin' to tell me that or NOT stealin' money?"
Heyes hesitated for just a second before he answered, "That's right. Kyle, your turn."
Kid glared at his partner as Kyle rolled, landed on 'Chance', and had to go to jail again. "Ah, dang it."
Kid was still going at Heyes. "YOU CAN'T ROB THE BANK, HEYES!"
Heyes began to look irritated at being accused of doing something that he thought nobody had noticed. "NOWHERE in the rules does it say I CAN'T rob the bank!"
Wheat then tried to reach over Heyes' arm to the money tray. "In that case, I'm robbin' it too!"
Heyes smacked Wheat's hand back over to his own personal space. "No you're not!"
Wheat got upset. "AND JUST WHY NOT?!"
Heyes calmly told him, "Leader privileges."
Wheat looked like he could choke the dark-haired man sitting next to him, but didn't say anything as to not rile Kid anymore than he already was.
Kid angrily dropped the dice and landed on Park Place, on which Heyes had a hotel.
Heyes gave a huge dimpled smile. "Ha! You owe me $1500!"
Kid looked at the board and grabbed the red, rectangle piece of wood sitting on the dark blue space and held it up. "IN WHAT SICK WORLD IS THIS A HOTEL?! THIS IS CLEARLY A LARGE RED HOUSE! I AIN'T PAYIN' TO LAND ON THIS THING!"
"Large red house or not, Kid, you still owe me $1500."
While Kid and Heyes argued, Wheat had rolled for his turn and landed on one of Kid's railroads. He hoped Kid wouldn't notice, but of course, he did.
Kid looked down when he noticed Wheat move. "HEY! That railroad is mine! $50, NOW!"
"You might as well give that $50 to me as Kid counts out $1450 more that he owes me!" Heyes said.
Kid was red in the face by now. "I said that railroad's MINE."
Heyes grinned, making Kid even angrier. "Well, your railroad just got held up. Hand it over."
Kid's stubborn streak kicked in. "I ain't payin' you nothin'."
Wheat chimed in. "If Kid ain't payin' you, then I ain't neither."
Heyes finally lost his temper. He stood up and started grabbing money from in front of both Kid and Wheat. "WELL THEN I'M ROBBING THE BOTH OF YOU!"
Kid was fuming by now. "IF THAT'S THE WAY YOU WANT TO BE, I'M MOVIN' EVERY HOUSE AND HOTEL ON THE BOARD TO NEW YORK AVENUE WHERE YOU JUST HAPPEN TO BE SITTIN'! NOW, YOU OWE ME $300,000 SO HAND IT OVER!"
Heyes bent over with both hands on the table. "YOU KNOW I DON'T HAVE THAT MUCH!"
Both Wheat and Kyle had scooted their chairs back to watch the fireworks.
Kid then stood up and leaned over the table the exact same way. "WELL WHY DON'T YOU ROB THE BANK?! YOU'VE BEEN DOIN' IT THE WHOLE GAME ANYWAY!"
Heyes straightened up, crossed his arms, and smugly said, "Yes, I've handled the money for the whole game, which in turn makes me a bank teller. Now, am I going to risk my life to keep a man from robbing the bank? No. If he wants to rob it, I ain't going to stop him."
Curry looked ready to kill as his cousin confused him thoroughly. "WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU TALKIN' ABOUT?! YOU'RE THE BANKER AND THE ROBBER! HOW YOU GONNA GET HURT?!"
Heyes gave a crooked grin and shrugged.
That was it. That was all Curry could take. He stomped to the kitchen window and opened it. Then he stomped back to the table, grabbed the board and everything on it, and slung it as hard as he could out into the snow. He then turned around, his eyes blazing. "NOW, NOBODY OWES NOBODY NOTHIN'! I WIN!"
Heyes never moved his body or eyes. "YOU owe ME a new Monopoly board."
————————
Preacher was on his way back to the bunkhouse when he saw the game fly out of the leader's cabin, followed by some shouts and the sound of someone getting punched. He shook his head. "I warned Heyes not to buy that game.”
————-
Another A/N - "The board game Monopoly has its origins in the early 20th century. The earliest known version of Monopoly, known as The Landlord's Game, was designed by an American, Elizabeth Magie, and first patented in 1904 but existed as early as 1902." (Quote from Wikipedia). The current version of Monopoly was first produced by Parker Brothers in 1935 after they obtained the rights from Elizabeth Magie for her patent. "The original version of the game in this format was based on the streets of Atlantic City, New Jersey." (Quote from Wikipedia) _________________ Come to the dark side.....we have cookies... | |
| | | Gan Ainm
Posts : 13 Join date : 2020-06-26 Age : 55 Location : Scotland
| Subject: Re: July 2020 - Empty Seats Sun Jul 19, 2020 8:29 pm | |
| Right. My first attempt here. This is a story I wrote last month, and some of you might have read it posted elsewhere already, but I thought it might fit this month's prompt. It's the first thing I have written in 4 years and I apologise if it seems rough here or there - I had no beta. ------------------------------------------------- Keep him safe
Nobody knew how the horse had made its way into their hideout without anyone noticing. It definitely was no wild horse, as those tended to do all they could to stay out of corrals and definitely did not come with tack provided. But a saddle and bridle on the fence had turned up together with the four-legged intruder, leading the Devil’s Hole gang to assume they had arrived together, even though they had separated at some point before their discovery. Most of the gang never learned its story, the reason for its appearance amongst them, and that was probably for the best.
Wheat Carlson was not having a good morning. He was hung over and had just burned his tongue on his first cup of hot coffee. The sudden commotion outside in the compound did not help his poor aching head or his mood. Neither did the sight, and sound, of his second in command come bursting through the door. Blue eyes wide and mouth open, Kyle was a picture of astonishment. Then he started jabbering something about Wheat having to come and look because there was a horse in the corral. Oh, why did he have to be saddled with a partner like this? What the heck was so special about a horse in the corral? It was where they kept horses, for Pete’s sake. His headache got worse and a vein at his temple began to throb. Kyle insisted that the horse was none of theirs, a stranger. That finally got Wheat’s attention, as it should have been impossible for a mouse to slip into Devil’s Hole unnoticed, much less a horse, with or without rider. And there must have been a rider, since Wheat had never heard of a horse untacking itself and then stowing away the gear. But none of the lookouts had raised an alarm during the night. So apparently someone had snuck into his hideout, stashed their horse and skedaddled without anyone noticing. If Kyle’s story was true and not some prank, some gang members were headed for a headache of their own. Oh yes!
Giving up on his coffee and even the idea of breakfast, the outlaw leader stalked out of his cabin, followed cautiously by the smaller man who didn’t like the look Wheat had given him, as if it was all his fault. The gang members in the yard, sensing their boss’s mood, stood back, opening a clear path to the corral with its mysterious new occupant. Wheat stomped right up to the fence and glared at the offending animal. The horse calmly looked back, flicked its ears and shook its mane. The outlaw, considering himself not a bad judge of horseflesh, quickly assessed the animal. Kyle had been right, for once: it was definitely not one of their string. It looked spirited, healthy and well enough cared for. Properly muscled, obviously used to a bit of work. Good chest, promising stamina. Yup, a nice enough horse, and, important to outlaws, nothing flashy or showy. A sorrel, no, a claybank dun with his light golden-copper coat showing the characteristic darker stripe along its back and darker, more reddish, mane and tail. The only markings were a small irregular star, shaped a bit like a lightning bolt, as well as a narrow snip on its nose and a white pastern on its near hind leg. It reminded Wheat of a sorrel he had ridden a few years back, when he first took lead of the Devil’s Hole gang. Maybe he would claim the horse for himself, if none of the others fessed up to smuggling it here for some reason. That brought him back to the problem of how the animal had gotten into one of the West’s most hidden and best guarded outlaw hideouts. Time to solve this mystery. He rounded on his men with the full menace a hangover topped by a bad morning could produce.
Two hours later, his headache had become bearable thanks to enough coffee, and he had finally managed to eat some breakfast. Both of which combined to make him feel better and improved his mood. He sure had put the guards from lookout point in their place, but they still swore that neither rider nor horse had passed by them, and all of the other gang members stubbornly insisted they had heard or seen nothing during the night and knew even less about their baffling visitor. So the origin of the horse remained a mystery. And this mystery left a bad feeling in Wheat’s gut. Horses didn’t fall from the sky and they didn’t just turn up in an outlaw compound. Only, this one had.
Kyle’s attempt at cheering him up earlier by saying that not even Heyes and Curry ever had horses wanting to join the Devil’s Hole gang by themselves had made the gang laugh, but had not had the same effect on their leader. It had only reminded Wheat of the sore point of his predecessors’ enduring fame.
He decided to make a last attempt at solving the mystery and check the tack properly himself. Maybe he would find some clue about their origin or at least the last owner. He sighed. You just couldn’t rely on Kyle to do a proper job of anything that didn’t require explosives.
In the barn, once his eyes had become accustomed to the dim light, he quickly found where the gear had been stashed. Nothing special about saddle or bridle. Both were quite unremarkable ordinary, showing no memorable horsehair hitching or personalised leather work. They also had no names embossed, cut out or simply written on anywhere. No blanket roll, canteen or rifle shoe which might have held a clue. The nondescript plain utilitarian saddle bags were empty – or so they had seemed. On reaching in, just to make sure, Wheat’s hand encountered an envelope stuck to one side. He had not noticed it at first because its yellowish colour blended in with the leather. It looked like the kind of stationary some hotels provided to guests for messages. Curious, and feeling a little triumphant, he fished it out and received his second shock this morning. It was addressed to him. The neat block letters had been penned by a hand obviously not much used to this task, but it was also evident that great care had been taken with each stroke. Oh, he didn’t like this. Under the guise of hitching up his pants, he quickly scanned around to make sure that none of the gang were about and watching. Good. Nobody had seen him make his find. He decided to keep it that way, and with the ease of lots of practice slipped the envelope quickly out of sight. He would open it in the privacy of the leader’s cabin.
The envelope contained just one slip of paper, folded once. It wasn’t a letter, really, only containing a short message written in the same carefully determined hand. It was short and seemed innocent enough. But Wheat knew from long experience that in his line of work things that appeared harmless or simple at first had a tendency to end up anything but. He read the missive again, shaking his head, trying to fathom what it all meant. His brow furrowed and his moustache bristled. Something was definitely not right here. He had a bad feeling.
“Wheat, I didn’t know where else to bring him. Keep him safe. Please. K.C.”
Wheat felt his headache return, even more strongly. He could only think of one man with the initials “K.C.”: Kid Curry. One of the former two leaders of the Devil’s Hole gang. A man who had never been too fond of him – a feeling he returned wholeheartedly. A man who had usually told Wheat what to do (or not to do), told him, or threatened him, hand hovering close to that far too speedy six-gun of his. In short, a man who did not say “please” easily. Not to Wheat, anyway. And what was this gibberish about not knowing where to bring him and keeping him safe? Who was him? The horse? Wheat snorted. Granted, the Kid could become attached to anything, but he had never been this sentimental about a horse; no outlaw could afford to. What was so special about this one? And anyway, it was not the Kid’s type of horse; the gunny had always preferred bays or browns and generally more placid animals. The claybank dun in the corral looked like he could be a handful. Thinking about it, it was just the type of horse the Kid’s partner and former joint gang leader, Hannibal Heyes, would have preferred. That one had always gone for fiery reds. But that made even less sense. Kid Curry leaving Heyes’s horse to Wheat’s care? Yeah, right. What was Kid Curry up to? If he was playing some angle, he just couldn’t see it. Why sneak into the Hole without an explanation? The note certainly provided none. Why stash the animal here, of all places? Devil’s hole was no livery stable, dammit! And why just one? These two were inseparable, even if they split up on occasion. No matter how he looked at it, it didn’t make any sense, which made him feel a whole lot of uneasy. Then there was the question of how they had gotten in? Maybe… Yes, that must be it. He had suspected for some time before he took over the gang that they had discovered a secret back way into the Hole. Of course, they had denied it. But Heyes had always been a sneaky sort. It would be just like him to keep something like this back, to himself (and the Kid, naturally). Clever, really. Ahem. Resentment joined the unease and general bad feeling. So, what had brought them, or at least the Kid, back to Devil’s Hole? Huh, easy, that one: they were in trouble, of course. Again. And needed his help. Again. What else was new? Wheat’s fingers tapped on the table in annoyance. Then again, there hadn’t been any news lately about them getting caught, or really anything about them at all. The fingers stilled. And it had been quite some time since Heyes and Kid had last asked the gang’s help, for that caper with the Mexican lady and the Texan cattle baron. So why make such a mystery out of it now? Oh yes, something was very much wrong here. Several somethings. Wheat picked up the piece of paper again. For instance: Why did Kid leave the note? It was always Heyes, taking the lead, making contact, talking to people, writing notes, telegrams, instructions. Big-mouthed Heyes, not his quiet partner. Yes, Wheat definitely had a really bad feeling about this all. Dropping the note once more, he sighed, leaned back in his chair and brushed a hand through his hair. Whichever way he looked at it, whatever was going on, there was not much he could do about it. Making up his mind, he decided to keep the note secret. At least until he knew more. Yes. The others did not need to know everything, least of all how much it had unsettled him. No point in making them ask questions he had no answers to. In the meantime, he would claim the horse, not as his main mount, you understand, but keep it in reserve, just in case, no bad, no foul. And if he didn’t hear from the Kid again – well, all the better, really. At least that was what he kept telling himself.
Days passed, turned into weeks and then months. Several months had gone by since the horse had appeared at Devil’s Hole, when the first rumours reached them. Kid Curry had been in a shoot-out. Kid Curry had killed an upstart young gunslinger. Kid Curry had bested a famous bounty hunter. Once they started, they did not abate. And always just about Kid Curry. No mention of Hannibal Heyes. Then rumours that they had split up. Heyes had retired from his gunslinging partner who had become too ungovernable. The Kid had murdered Heyes. No, Heyes had been killed by someone else and the Kid was now out for revenge. Wheat didn’t like the rumours. Didn’t like them one bit. True, neither had he particularly liked the men the rumours were about; these two could be aggravating as hell. Still… True also, they had made a really stupid decision, trying to go for amnesty. Wheat huffed. As if any governor would ever grant amnesty to Heyes and Curry. Yea, right. And pigs might fly. But he had to admire their persistence. He’d have long since told the governor what he could do with his bit of paper and where exactly he could stuff it. A nod. Yup. But they had stubbornly refused to give up. And he had to admit, however grudgingly, that he respected them for that. If there was any truth to those rumours, and he had an inkling which ones might be closer to it, they had not deserved this.
Then, one day, Wheat’s horse stepped into a gopher’s hole and broke a leg. Riding double behind Kyle, he decided to replace the dead animal with the claybank dun. There was no point in keeping the horse in reserve any longer. Kid Curry had never returned for him, and it had been too long. He doubted he ever would now. Wheat had kept the Kid’s note, and on returning to the leader’s cabin at Devil’s Hole, he took it out once more. Reading it again after all this time, against the backdrop of the rumours, it now took on a new, more sinister meaning.
“I didn’t know where else to bring him. Keep him safe. Please.”
So this was what the bad feeling all those months ago had tried to tell him. How had he not seen it before? Of course Kid had not spoken of the horse. The note wasn’t simply asking for a favour. It was more like a condemned man’s last request. How could he have been so blind? It was high time to have a good look for that secret back way into Devil’s Hole and, well, whatever else he might find.
He went back out to saddle his new horse. And yes, he promised the Kid with a long, tired sigh, he would honour his wish and do what he could to keep – him – safe.------------------------------------------------------------- Notes: I was really glad to finally have this off my chest – or out of the recesses of my mind. It had been lurking there ever since I wrote “The Shot” in 2015; it is basically a stand-alone follow-up. The general idea was part of my vision of “The Shot”, but I decided to leave it out of that story. Over the years, I have played with different scenarios, different perspectives and lead characters, but they never panned out. Last month, a plot bunny finally obliged. Well, not so much obliged as beat me over the head with it and forced me at gunpoint to write the night through without stopping until it was finished. I hope the empty saddle fits the prompt.
For all ASJ horse lovers – I apologise for the false claim of Wheat riding a sorrel in the pilot episode. Any true fan will of course know that it was not a sorrel, but the one and only Clay, the claybank dun, himself. Before he was “stolen” by Heyes… ;-) I know, Clay is the horse most associated with Heyes, but in fact, the first time he rides him is in “Never Trust an Honest Man”. In a way, this story brings him back full circle to his original rider (in ASJ).
If you noticed my mention of horsehair hitching: it was introduced to several Western prisons from the 1880s, and I read that knowledgeable people could tell when and where pieces had been made due to colours, patterns and styles used. A hitched bridle might have provided Wheat with a clue to a prison and maybe he would have known some inmate(s) there. Here is a link on horsehair hitching: https://www.cowboysindians.com/2016/04/hitched-horsehair-bridles-have-a-history-behind-bars/
As for inspiration/background to the story: I firmly believe that Kid would not have risked burying Heyes in some town, even under his alias. The danger was just too great that knowledge would spread of who Joshua Smith really was and he just would not have been safe. His wouldn’t have been the first famous outlaw’s grave or remains to be disturbed by ghouls. Check up on the sad story of Big Nose George Parrott. Detailed story can be found here: https://www.wyohistory.org/encyclopedia/big-nose-george-grisly-frontier-tale#:~:text=Wikipedia.,inaugural%20as%20Wyoming's%20governor I summarise from Wikipedia: He was an outlaw, a horse-thief and robber, in the late 1870s who, with his partner in crime, had a reward of $10,000 (later even $20,000) placed on their heads when they killed two law enforcement officers in 1878 who tracked the gang after a botched train robbery. In 1880 they were captured and Big Nose was returned to Rawlins, Wyoming, where he was sentenced to hang in April 1881. During an attempt to flee, he was grabbed by a mob and lynched. Uncomfortable similarities (and outlook), anyone? But his story gets worse. Two doctors, Thomas Maghee and John E. Osborne obtained his body (because no family came forward to claim it) and determined “to study his brain for clues to his criminality”. They did not restrict themselves to this, however. The sawn-off top of the skull was made into an ashtray and given to Maghee’s assistant (Lillian Heath, who later became the first female doctor in Wyoming), who still had it in 1950 (it is today in the Union Pacific Museum of Omaha, Nebraska). They also removed skin from Parrott’s thighs and chest and had it tanned and made into a pair of shoes and a medicine bag for Osborne. It is not known what became of the bag, but the shoes were still in John E. Osborne’s possession when he became governor of Wyoming in 1893, and he famously wore them to his inauguration (ball). Simply search on the internet for “Governor of Wyoming” and “shoes”, if you don’t believe this. You can even find pictures. The shoes are today in the Carbon County Museum of Rawlins. And this story is not as unique as one could hope. There are other tales of unsavoury outlaw artefacts or of entire preserved bodies or skeletons being put on display for money (e.g. Elmer McCurdy, killed in 1911, whose body was displayed in a funeral home, carnival and side shows and a fun fair until 1976). I could just imagine some unscrupulous doctor or medicine show man, upon realising who Joshua Smith really was, obtaining rights to the body (for studying it for criminology or simply under false pretences, e.g. claiming to be a long-lost relative) and happily carving it up, all legally, and selling parts off for souvenirs (and sadly, I can just see railway barons, bankers and Wyoming governors lining up for the sale), or displaying the remains as a curiosity all over the West. Isn’t it really a sad irony, considering our boys’ worst adversaries, that Parrott’s body parts ended up belonging to and being displayed by a governor of Wyoming, a bank (where Osborne later worked), and a railway museum (among others)?
No, Kid could not risk something like that. But somehow, I also can’t (or really don’t want to) see him burying his partner just somewhere meaningless in the wilderness. It makes complete sense to me that, given Heyes died within a few days’ ride of Devil’s Hole (in my original vision of “The Shot”), Kid would have brought him home. After all, they did spend the happiest and best years of their lives there (apart from their childhood). The Devil’s Hole gang were still friends, even if a little uneasy ones at times, and our boys could trust them more than anyone else.
Finally (yes I know, I do ramble on), need I say that I really like Wheat, especially as portrayed by Earl Holliman? Yes, he is an outlaw and proud of it. But like our two pretty good bad men, despite grumbling and blustering, he does right by his friends, as evidenced in “The Day They Hanged Kid Curry”. You clearly cannot rely on him to do something as mundane and lawful as paying for a telegram, as it simply goes against his grain, but I am convinced you could absolutely trust him to protect a former comrade, a fellow outlaw, even one who had strayed and retired (but never completely switched sides). _________________ I can resist everything, except temptation - Oscar Wilde
| |
| | | MoulinP
Posts : 63 Join date : 2015-10-15
| Subject: Re: July 2020 - Empty Seats Mon Jul 20, 2020 8:49 am | |
| Pitch black and Jed shivered under his blankets, so thin they might as well not be there. No warmth in them. He was awake and listening to the sounds of sleeping around him. Lucas snoring and snuffling. Collins whimpering. Garcia talking. Then someone's farts. He sure hoped he did not make any of those noises. He lay there wondering how long before...
Jed felt a hand close round his ankle and give it a shake. He smiled, not afraid. Been expecting this. Fully clothed underneath the covers, he threw his legs over the side of the bed, trying not to make a noise. The hand now groped up his arm to grip his shoulder, reassuringly. Jed nodded and patted the hand before it fell away.
They would break out tonight. Him and Han. Nope, not right. Him and Heyes. Three years ago, Heyes asked him to call him Heyes. Jed still thought of his cousin as Han, short for Hannibal. He tried to remember but it was difficult.
Heyes would be fifteen soon. The age he had to leave Valparaiso and make his own way in the world. Heyes vowed he’d not leave without his younger cousin. So tonight, they were breaking out. Any closer to his fifteenth birthday and the staff would be on alert for an attempt. The War Between the States forced them to stay, but that had been over for some months. Heyes now declared it safe to leave this awful place.
Safe was relative. Valparaiso had not been safe. Just not so dangerous being alone outside with soldiers and raiders roaming the countryside. Valparaiso was a School for Wayward children. In reality, a prison. Brutal though Valparaiso was, it kept them alive. Now, after three years in this place, Jed was wise beyond his years. Valparaiso turned the innocent ten-year-old into an embittered thirteen-year-old, resentful of authority and those who handed it out. He could be sullen, moody and stubborn. Oh, so stubborn. Getting him into trouble often. Then Heyes would defend him, try to protect him, and they would both end up in trouble. Each beating more severe than the last.
For his cousin, Heyes, two years his senior, the time at Valparaiso left more than a physical mark. Heyes used his time learning things that are more practical. This was a school for wayward children, after all. Specialist skills abounded. Skills that Heyes considered useful for the future. Locks soon proved no barrier, allowing him to wander the corridors at night and pry into the school's secrets. Sleight of hand perfected over continual use meant nothing was safe if he decided he wanted it. Food and books were at the top of the list. The art of the card shark played to his natural dexterity and talent with numbers. His radiant smile used to its best effect in persuasion, easily charming the kitchen and infirmary staff.
From that viewpoint, neither child wasted their time at Valparaiso. Both learnt skills that would prove invaluable in later life. They survived the beatings, the cruelty and the poor quality food but now time to leave. Time to resume the plan they had been working on before their lock up in here.
Heyes still kept the address of the mysterious uncle that Jed never met, but Heyes had. Jed vaguely remembered Jonathan Curry discussed in hushed whispers, but he had been too young to understand or take much notice.
Jed wanted to know if their mutual grandfather, Grandpa Curry, still lived, a hard, taciturn man from Northern Ireland. He was uncompromising, but Jed's father respected him. Not so Heyes' mother. Relieved to leave the strict religious and harsh Curry family home, to marry an Englishman. Despite her estrangement from her father, her brother lived near enough to socialize and their boys to play together. Grandpa Curry rarely invited to the Heyes home so the elder grandson viewed him as a fleeting presence rather than a guiding hand.
This difference of opinion between Heyes and Jed and their indecision festered before Valparaiso. This conversion would come back again once outside. Jed didn’t look forward to the discussion, knowing what Heyes wanted. It wasn’t the way he wanted to go. The thought of what that may mean held no comfort for Jed. Heyes had been a reassuring presence in Valparaiso, and the thought of losing that ... well ... he would face it when the time came. For now, he had to concentrate on getting out of here.
The hand patted Jed's arm three times and pulled. How could Heyes see in the dark? Jed barely made out his hand in front of his face. Yet Heyes guided them between the beds without a hitch. Neither boy had more than their pockets would carry. What they were leaving behind was precious little and easily given up.
Jed stood by the door, listening to the faint clicking of Heyes picking the lock to let them out. He "heard" Heyes' broad grin as the mechanism yielded. Slowly the door opened. Outside, the corridor was dim, but light enough to see. Staff patrolled the corridors at night, so they had to be quiet. Heyes stood ready to shut the door again if footsteps sounded.
Nothing. Heyes opened the door wider, and he slipped through. The door was in a recess, so he had to lean right out. He checked the corridor in both directions and nodded to Jed to follow him. Jed slipped out and closed the door behind him.
Staff guarded the quickest way out. Instead, the boys took a circuitous route, less likely to run into staff.
Heyes pointed down and mouthed, "Boots off." Barefoot and with boots in hand, they set off through the corridors. First left and then right, left, right, or was that left? Jed soon lost track and if it wasn't for Heyes leading the way, he would lose his bearings. Through his exploration from his nightly wanderings, Heyes avoided the staff routes.
They reached the top of the stairs without a hitch. Getting down the stairs was the risky bit. The main staircase led to the public part of the building, with nowhere to hide if somebody came. Once down on the ground floor, across the hall and through a door into an unfamiliar world. A fiction that did not exist anywhere else in the building.
They crouched behind the bannister and listened for any sounds emanating from down below. They glanced at each other. Heyes mouthed "Slowly" and stood up. He kept to the wall, as he made his way downstairs, testing each step for creaking boards before putting his full weight down. Jed followed carefully in his footsteps.
“Well, I don't think we can take anymore. We're over capacity as it is."
The voice was ominously close and coming their way. The boys froze.
"There's twelve more coming. Guess we can top 'n' tail 'em. Smaller ones don't take up an entire bed anyway," another voice said.
The voices came from the other side of the door Heyes and Jed wanted to go through. Heyes made the ground floor just as the door opened. Jed was still on the stairs. Surely, this was it? The game up. Caught. Both inwardly groaned at the thought of the beating to follow.
Then a lucky break. The door opened a crack. Heyes could see a man holding it but his back turned away, looking at the owner of the other voice.
"How many of each? So we can make plans," the man holding the door said.
Heyes, hidden in the shadows, beckoned to Jed, frozen on the stairs. "Hurry," Heyes mouthed. Jed trembled in fear, and Heyes beckoned again. Jed made the shadows beside Heyes just in time as the two men came through the door.
"Awh! They can't say. Only that it's twelve."
"They had to count 'em, didn't they? Boys and girls do look different!"
Heyes and Jed stared at the two men walking off down the corridor focus on their conversation, rather than what was around them. As they turned the corner and out of sight, the boys let out their breath.
If caught, the beating would be severe. Jed didn't think he would survive another intense beating, and Heyes wouldn't. Too soon after the last time. He hadn't recovered properly and still winced in pain from his hip when he walked. If he took another just yet, the chances are it would cripple him for life. Then where would Jed be.
Heyes fumbled for the door handle, wincing when the door creaked open. He stuck his head through and satisfied nobody else was about; he motioned Jed to follow. Into the unfamiliar world of Valparaiso's public face.
The entrance hall of Valparaiso was nothing like the rest of the building. No whitewashed walls and bare floorboards here. This was all mahogany doors and rugs; elegant furniture, paintings on the wall, flowers in a vase on the center table, and other homely touches.
Heyes turned and shut the door. He grinned in devilment as he crouched to "lock" the door. If he could unlock a door, he could darn well lock one. That should delay any pursuit.
"Put your boots on Jed. Once we’re outta the window we've gotta run like blazes."
"Which window we going out Heyes?"
Jed struggled with his boots.
Heyes grinned. "The only one not barred. The warden's."
The official title was headmaster, but all boys and staff thought of him as the warden.
Jed's mouth fell open. "You ain't serious?"
"Sure I am. What? Did you think we were walking out the front door? Naw!" Heyes shook his head. "Come on."
The warden's office was to the right of the front door. Heyes tried the handle. Locked, but thirty seconds later, no longer. The boys entered, Jed in wonder. Heyes stopped to relock the door.
The Warden handed out punishments here. The deeds themselves took place in a squalid little room, far from anywhere that the public ventured. Away from prying eyes and any interference.
Heyes crossed to the window and was already checking the lock. The bottom of the window raised in an instant.
"Jed!"
Jed still in awe, jumped when Heyes hissed his name.
"Pay attention."
"Sorry Heyes."
"We're gonna climb out this window. Keep to the edge of the building and then run straight across the drive and into the trees. We've gotta keep going no matter what. D'you hear?"
Jed nodded.
"Now it'll seem like a long run. There isn't much cover, but we're in luck. No moon yet."
"Okay, Heyes."
Heyes gave him a long look.
"Okay, I'll go first and then I'll help you."
Jed nodded.
Heyes climbed over the windowsill. Although on the ground floor, the window high in the wall and the ground dropping away sharply, made it a long drop. Heyes hoped not too long. He let go and gave a relieved sigh when his feet soon hit the ground. Jed being shorter would have to go on trust. Jed lowered himself slowly. He felt Heyes touch his legs.
"Let go."
Jed did, but Heyes hadn't prepared himself for the extra weight landing on top of him. They both grunted as momentum tipped them both into the flowerbed. Jed moved, but Heyes held him firm. He put his finger over his lips. What was that? They lay on their backs listening for sounds of discovery. No, probably creatures of the night moving about. When satisfied nothing was amiss, Heyes tapped Jed's arm. They took refuge behind a large shrub. Oh, so good to be out in the fresh air. Valparaiso wasn't warm, but neither was it fresh.
Heyes pointed down the length of the building. Keeping low, they made their way to the corner. Heyes poked his head round. A long way to the trees. The drive was wide and laid to lawn on both sides. Nowhere to hide if spotted.
"Long way Heyes." The younger boy voiced both their concerns.
"Yep. We don't get a choice Jed. That's the way. Once we're in the trees, no one will see us."
"What 'bout we go down the flower border and along the fence? We'll only need to cross the drive itself."
"You ain't thinking Jed. The gate has a guard, and he's gotta light. It's dark here. That'll hide us."
Jed appeared doubtful.
"I'm telling you, Jed. If we go that way they'll catch us for sure."
Jed contemplated the border. That seemed the better way to him. Crossing the wider part of the garden appeared awfully risky.
"We don't have time to debate, Jed. I'm going this way. Are you with me?"
Jed didn't answer.
"Well I'm going." Heyes hesitated. "See ya." Then Heyes took off across the lawn, running fast.
Jed watched him go. They would have a conversation later. Jed hesitated only for a second, before deciding sticking with Heyes was the best thing.
Heyes knew Jed followed by the time he'd crossed the drive. Halfway across the second lawn, a cry came from behind him. Heyes skidded to a halt and looked back. Jed picked himself up. At that moment, the hand-cranked siren went off. Someone had spotted they were missing.
Heyes raced back and helped Jed to his feet. The younger boy had turned his ankle hitting the change from lawn to drive. Heyes half carried him across the drive, Jed hopping like mad to keep up. He couldn't put any weight on his injured foot.
Lights flickered on all over the house and soon adults spilled out into the grounds. The boys had to make the trees or suffer a severe beating or even death. Nobody would care.
"Come on, Jed. We've made it this far. We've gotta." Heyes gasped. Supporting Jed was awkward, and his hip ached. Jed recognized the desperation in Heyes' voice. Jed tried to hurry, using his hurt foot as a lever to propel himself along.
They reached the second lawn. They heard clearly, adults shouting encouragements like:
"They can'ta gone far. I'll go round this side. You got round there. That Heyes boy again. He’s in for the biggest beating of his life when I catch him."
The boys sobbed with effort and desperation. They had to make it. Had to.
The trees came closer, painfully slowly. Heyes risked a glance over his shoulder. No one was coming up the drive but ...
"This way! I seen 'em!"
Heyes groaned. "Keep going, Jed."
"I am Heyes."
Footsteps sounded in their direction. Any minute Heyes expected the staff to surround them. He sobbed at the thought of the cruelty to come. Wasn't fair. They had so nearly made it. If Jed hadn't fallen ... Heyes shook his head. He mustn't think like that. Not Jed's fault. The only thing to focus on now was how close the trees were. Getting closer. Just not, close enough.
Heyes risked another glance. Figure came in their direction. He gasped and urged Jed faster. Jed struggled to keep up. If he tried going faster, he would fall again, taking Heyes with him. Then it would be over.
The silhouette of a man appeared in front of them, coming from the trees. Was he waiting for them? Both boys gasped in horror and stopped. So this was it. Caught.
"Boys. Over here."
The man gesturing to them.
"Quickly!"
Was this out of the frying pan into the fire? This man wasn't staff. At least his silhouette didn't fit any of the staff they knew. Could this be a trick? He'd come from the wrong direction. Had he been trying to head them off? A distinct possibility. Not unheard of for boys, especially boys, to attempt escape.
This man might help them get away. Heyes all too aware of what was behind them with frightening certainty. Ahead lay a chance. Only a slim chance, but still a chance.
The man was upon them. Seeing the condition of the younger child, his gruff voice urged, "Give him to me, boy."
Heyes hesitated.
"No time to argue. 'Lessen ya wanna go back in there. You know what they'll do to you."
Heyes made a snap decision.
"Heyes!" Jed yelled and struggled.
Heyes surrendered him to the mystery man.
The man swept Jed up into his arms. He ran. Heyes followed close behind, a hand on his hip. He limped, but freed from supporting Jed, he managed better. Into the trees at last. A narrow curtain of trees, just dense enough to hide the house from the lane that lay beyond.
They kept going and burst out into the lane. A few yards down stood a horse and cart. The man dumped Jed none too gently in the back, boosted Heyes in beside him, and pulling the canvas sacking over them both.
Horse and cart were disappearing at a fast trot when the first of the staff ran into the lane. The first caught sight of the horse and cart before it turned the corner.
"Ya see 'em? Who was that?" the others asked when he’d caught up.
Spent, the first bent over, hands on thighs. He shook his head.
"Too dark to tell."
"Was it Crowther?"
"Possibly."
"Best tell the warden. He ain't gonna like this."
The first stood up. "No, he ain't."
Few boys attempted to escape, even fewer succeeded. More on the list wouldn’t please the warden, especially if they had help from Crowther. The man, a thorn in the warden's side for months. Never missing an opportunity to discredit the warden's reputation and standing in the local community. Often turning up at events to heckle him as the warden gave a speech. Now it looked like Crowther had helped two runaways, boys who would not pass up the chance to paint a less than rosy picture of life at Valparaiso. No, this development would definitely not please the warden. Funding for the home was per child, not for empty chairs.[/size] | |
| | | Penski Moderator
Posts : 1808 Join date : 2012-04-22 Age : 63 Location : Northern California
| Subject: Re: July 2020 - Empty Seats Thu Jul 30, 2020 6:51 am | |
| July 2020 – Empty Seats
Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry cautiously rode into the gold mining town of Russell Gulch, Colorado. There were several hotels and saloons, boarding houses, a few stores and banks, an assay office, an undertaker, and a jailhouse.
“Seems quiet for a minin’ town on a Friday,” Kid Curry commented.
“It sure does.” Heyes glanced at the store. “We’re gonna need supplies before we move on.”
“Yeah, I need bullets and gun oil.”
“Supplies or a drink?” Heyes asked.
“A drink. Definitely a drink.” Curry reined his horse over to the Gold Nugget Saloon, dismounted, and tied his mount to the hitching post.
Heyes followed his partner. “Think we should get supplies before we get a room, though. There wasn’t any sign who the sheriff is.”
“Okay, just one drink and then supplies,” the Kid agreed.
Kid Curry entered the saloon first, right hand free and near his gun as he glanced into the room. His prompt stop led to Heyes bumping into him.
“What the… Why’d you stop?” Heyes grumbled.
“Look. Empty seats.” Curry glanced over to the bar and saw the bartender wiping a glass. “You open?”
“You betcha. What’ll it be?”
“We’ll start with a whiskey and some information.” Heyes bellied up to the bar and put a dime on the counter.
“Information?” The bartender pocketed the coin, pulled out to glasses, and poured the amber liquor.
“Yeah. Where is everyone?” the Kid asked.
“Oh, that. Had a bank robbery the other day and the sheriff and his deputy got killed. There’s a funeral for them both goin’ on. Mourners must be at the cemetery if you didn’t hear singin’ from the church.”
“A bank robbery? Know who did it?”
“Yep, a few desperate miners. The townsfolk already took care of ‘em since there’s no law in town now. Least not until we get a new sheriff. We already notified the marshal we needed one.”
“Took care of them, huh? Are they in the jail?” Heyes was afraid to ask.
“Nope! Rounded us up a 601 gang…”
“Six feet under, zero trial, and one rope,” the three men said together.
“I think I need another shot.” Curry pushed his glass forward.
“Me, too.”
“You two just travelin’ through town?” The bartender poured more drinks.
“Yep, after we get some supplies, right, partner?” Heyes patted Curry on the back.
“Right, partner,” the Kid said disheartened.
“Well, I’m guessin’ Earl stayed open. He wasn’t that fond of the sheriff and deputy. Called ‘em lazy.” His store is around the corner from…”
The saloon door banged opened, and shots were heard. Kid Curry instinctively turned while grabbing his gun.
“Whoo wee!” the shooter exclaimed. “Did you see that, Gus? He’s fast!”
Heyes closed his eyes for a moment while the Kid sheepishly holstered his gun.
“Didn’t mean to scare you, mister.”
“Lobo, what do you want? I’m not givin’ you a drink so you may as well leave.” Gus got out his shotgun from behind the bar. “You heard me – leave!”
“Sheesh, just wanted to celebrate gettin’ outta jail.” Lobo turned and left the saloon dejectedly.
“Sorry about that.” The bartender put his gun down. “That’s Loco Lobo, the town’s drunk. He got out because there was no one at the jailhouse to watch him. How about another drink, on the house, to calm your nerves?”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Gus watched the men leave his saloon and hurried out the back door.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
“You just had to show off your quick draw, didn’t you? Not even in town for 30 minutes. A town without a sheriff or deputy. Now we have to get supplies and get outta town,” Heyes grumbled as they made their way to the mercantile around the corner.
“I’m sorry!” the Kid exclaimed a tad loud. He lowered his voice, “I’m sorry, Heyes. Just surprised me. Saw you goin’ for your gun, too.”
Heyes sighed. “You’re right. The way that guy banged the door and was shooting his gun in the air put both of us on guard.”
“I was really lookin’ forward to restin’ in town for a few days on a soft bed and eatin’ something besides beans.” Curry opened the door for the store. “Let’s get our supplies so we can get outta town. Besides, we don’t need to be where they have a 601 kind of law.”
A bell rang when the door opened when the two customers walked in.
“How much money do we have to spend?” Curry asked as he looked at a box of socks.
“Just what food we need for a few days.”
“And bullets and gun oil.”
“That, too.” Heyes looked around. “I wonder where the shopkeeper is?” In a louder voice, “Hello! Are you open?”
A door closed and then a portly, older man with long sideburns hurried from the back room. “I’m open for business. Didn’t expect anyone during the funeral.” He went behind the counter. “What can I get you folks?”
“Food for the trail – coffee, flour, salt, jerky, and beans.” Heyes glanced at the shelves. “And a can of peaches.”
The clerk gathered the requested supplies, watching the men carefully. “Anything else?”
Kid Curry grabbed a tin of gun oil and a few boxes of bullets. “These, too.”
The shopkeeper added up the items. “That’ll be $3.85.”
Heyes pulled out his money and gave almost a third of it to the clerk. “Kinda high prices.”
“Well, it is a mining camp and we do have to transport it all up here,” the man explained. “You two leaving already?”
Kid Curry stood by the window and watched the townspeople coming back into town from the funeral.
Heyes began gathering the supplies. “Yeah, looks like we can’t afford to stay. Thaddeus, wanna give me a hand here?”
The clerk watched Curry sauntering up to the counter and noticed both men had their guns tied down. “Are you pretty good with those guns?”
The Kid looked up from gathering supplies. “We can usually hit what we’re aimin’ for. Why?”
“Just wondering.” The man hesitated a moment. “The café is opening up and Vi has a good lunch special. Why don’t you have yourself a good meal before hitting the trail?”
Heyes and the Kid glanced at each other and shrugged shoulders.
“Guess we could afford a lunch special, Thaddeus.”
“I was hopin’ you’d say so.” Curry smiled.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
The shopkeeper quickly turned his sign to close, locked the door, and hurried out the back.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Heyes and the Kid were finishing their fried chicken when a group of men walked into the café.
Curry quickly elbowed his partner, who was counting out money for the bill.
Heyes looked up and smiled as the men, including Gus and the shopkeeper, walked up to the table. “Hi. Something we can do for you, gentlemen?”
“Sure, hope so,” said one of the men in the front with a white apron on.
A man in a black suit took a step forward. “It was brought to my attention that one of you is real quick with a gun.”
Gus pointed to Curry. “That one.”
“Quick and in control,” the spokesman continued. “You could’ve shot Loco Lobo but didn’t.”
“Is that a problem?” the Kid asked.
“No, no problem.” The man looked over at Heyes. “Heard you’re pretty good, too. Where you boys from?”
“Oh, here and there. Looking for work where we can.” Heyes eyed the group of men. “Why?”
“We represent the town’s businesses and a mining town can quickly get out of control without a sheriff. We just buried our sheriff and deputy today and a replacement is about a month away. We’d like to hire both of you to keep the law in Russell Gulch until a new sheriff comes.”
“Us?” Heyes pointed to his partner and himself.” Why? You don’t even know us.”
“That’s true, but we really don’t have anyone else to choose from who we think can maintain law and order. Heard you were a little short on funds. We’d, of course, pay you to stay, including room and board. Pay would be $100 for the month.”
“You want us to be the town’s lawmen,” Kid Curry confirmed.
“Well, we were thinking of you as the temporary sheriff and your partner being the deputy. Best to have one in charge.”
“Me, the sheriff?” Curry pointed to himself.
“Me, the deputy?” Heyes pointed to himself. He glanced towards the Kid, who smirked. “Um, we’ll have to discuss this…” When no one moved, he added, “In private.”
“Oh, yes, of course! We’ll be stand right over there.”
“We can’t do this! What if someone recognizes us?” Heyes whispered.
Curry shrugged. “We get outta town fast like we do whenever we’re recognized?”
“We can’t do this.”
“We need a job and it’s only for about a month. Not like we haven’t been deputies before, Joshua.”
“I know, but… You the sheriff?” Heyes hissed. “Why not me?”
“Why not me? You should’ve practiced shootin’ more.” Kid Curry smirked again before getting serious. “What would the governor and Lom think?”
“Well, we’re on the right side of the law and helping out the town so I can’t imagine they’d be upset. Might even help with our amnesty.”
“Some money, room and board, I think we should take it. What could go wrong?”
Heyes sighed as he closed his eyes. “You had to ask.”
“Well?”
“Okay, we’ll try it for just a week and see how it goes.” Heyes motioned the group of men over.
“Did you make a decision?” asked the spokesman.
“Thought we’d try it for a week and see how it goes. We can check out the job more and you can see if you want us to stay around.”
“Oh, that’s an excellent idea!” The man looked around to his fellow merchants, who nodded in agreement. “So, pay for a week would be $25 with the room and board.”
“Each?” Kid Curry asked.
“Well, no. Usually experienced sheriffs make about $100 a month and deputies less. How about $40 cash for both and we’ll throw in some extras.”
“Extras?”
“Well, no offense, but your clothes are a bit frayed. We could pay for a new pair of pants, a shirt, socks, and your underclothes.”
“No offense taken,” Heyes assured the man. “Jobs have been a bit scarce.”
“So is it a deal, Mr…”
“I’m Thaddeus Jones and my friend is Joshua Smith.”
“Milton Grove, the undertaker and unofficial mayor in town.” The man shook their hands.
“It’s a deal.”
“Excellent! We’ll show you the jail and a boarding house where you’ll be staying, Sheriff Jones and Deputy Smith… Smith and Jones?”
“There’s a lot of folks in this world named Smith and Jones. We just happen to be two of them,” Heyes explained as he paid the lunch bill. “Still want us for the job?”
Milton Grove looked around at the other merchants who nodded or shrugged their shoulders. “At least for a week and we’ll go on from there.”
~ * ~ *~ * ~
Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry were making themselves familiar with their new office once the horses were taken to the livery and they dropped off their belongings at the boarding house owned by Mrs. Tucker, a miner’s widow. Heyes sat at the desk and went through the drawers while Curry checked out the cells.
Heyes looked up. “Hey, wanna remove those two wanted posters?”
The Kid went from the cells to the board and removed their posters. “Here.”
Heyes stuffed them in the back of a drawer. “Can’t believe you’re the sheriff,” he grumbled.
Kid Curry smiled as he checked the guns. “These have to be cleaned. Wanna walk through town and get a feel for it?”
“May as well do our first walk-through together and introduce ourselves.”
“And make sure we don’t know nobody.”
~ * ~ *~ * ~
The two former outlaws now lawmen sauntered through the town of Russell Gulch meeting the merchants and townsfolk, getting to know the lay of the town, checking out alleys and the side streets, and inspecting the security of the bank and assay office. They introduced themselves and listened to the people’s concerns and issues.
“Well, that’s what I call a good day,” the Kid commented as they ate a quick meal at the boarding house.
“I guess you could call it that,” grumbled Heyes.
“Oh, you’re just sore that you’re Deputy Smith.” Curry took a sip of water. “How do we wanna work this out? Take shifts?”
“You’re the sheriff. You tell me.”
“Quit harpin’ on that, Joshua! I didn’t decide that and it’s gonna be a long week if you don’t accept it.”
Heyes sighed. “You’re right. What shifts do you want?”
“Well, I’m thinkin’ both of us should be on duty until almost one when the saloons start slowin’ down.”
“I’m more of the night owl so don’t mind the night shift.”
“That’s what I was thinkin’. I’ll sleep during the night and relieve you around 9 for breakfast.”
“I’ll sleep during the day and come in around 5.”
The Kid put his fork down and slid his chair a few inches from the table. “Those will be some long hours.”
“Yep.” Heyes finished his dinner. “What if there’s a problem, like a bank robbery, while only one of us is on duty.”
“I was thinkin’ of that, too.”
“Can’t let anything go wrong; the governor or Lom might hear about it.”
“I know. There’s two cells. We could put up blankets for privacy and sleep in it.”
“And give up the comfortable bed here?”
“You got a better plan?” Kid Curry raise a brow.
“Nope. I was gonna suggest sleeping in the cell, too.” Heyes stood and stretched. “We can try it out and if it don’t work out sleep here.”
“Thank you for the delicious meal, Mrs. Tucker.” Sheriff Jones stood and put his hat on. “Guess we better get over to the office.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
“Sheriff! Sheriff, come quick!” A teen ran down the street towards the jail.
Heyes and the Kid dropped the blanket they were hanging and ran outside.
“What is it?” Curry’s hand hovered over his gun.
“Joe from the Bucket of Coins told me to get you. It’s Loco Lobo.” The youth turned and hurried back towards the saloon with the new lawmen following.
Bang… Bang…
“How do you want to handle this?” Heyes asked.
“Just gonna disarm him. You want to go in the front and distract him and I’ll go in the back and get his gun?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Heyes walked into the saloon. “Howdy, Lobo.”
The town’s drunk spun around. “Howdy, Deputy. I just wanna drink and Joe here won’t give me none.”
Heyes noticed his partner quietly entering the back door and making his way towards the drunk. “How many have you had?”
“Not enough. I’m standin’, ain’t I?”
“How about putting the gun away before someone gets hurt,” Heyes suggested.
“Folks listen when I got my gun. No one pays no attention to me if I don’t have it.”
Heyes held out his hand. “I’m listening. How about giving it to me?”
“Nope, I… HEY!”
Kid Curry grabbed the gun from Lobo’s hand and quickly unloaded the few bullets left. “I’ll give you your gun back if you give me the rest of your bullets.”
“Heck no.”
“Well, then I guess I’ll keep it locked up in the jail.”
“You puttin’ my gun in a cell and lockin’ it up?” Lobo staggered and grabbed on to a chair.
Heyes quickly grabbed his arm to steady him. “The gun’s just going into the office, not a cell.”
“When was the last time you ate, Lobo?” the Kid asked.
“Ah… Ah… I dunno.”
“How about a meal instead of more liquor. You can come to the office and talk with us,” Sheriff Jones suggested. “Deputy Smith will get you the special for the day and bring it to the office.”
Seeing the plea in Curry’s eyes, Heyes shrugged. “Sure. Let’s get you a meal and…” he sniffed, “and cleaned up.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
An hour later, Lobo was clean and finishing his meal at the desk. “You’re the best lawmen ever,” he exclaimed.
Heyes and Curry smiled.
“So, tell us about yourself, Lobo,” Heyes encouraged as he handed him a cup of coffee.
“Well, I’m the town’s drunk.”
“You haven’t always been that. What’d you do before you came to Russell Gulch?”
“You ain’t gonna believe me.”
“Try us.” Curry sat down at the desk and began cleaning a rifle in the case.
“I was a deputy, just like you.” Lobo pointed to Heyes. “Even had me a pretty gal I was courtin’.”
“Where was that?” Heyes asked. “When?”
“Oh shoot, about four years back in western Kansas. Thought I’d come west and get rich minin’ gold. Wanted to impress Edna Lou and her pa.”
“But no gold.” Curry wiped the rifle barrel.
“Actually, I found gold. How do you think I pay for my bottles?”
“So, what happened?” Heyes crossed his legs at the ankles.
“I telegraphed Edna Lou, but she was already marryin’ Albert. I drank a bottle when I got the news and never saw a reason to stop.”
Heyes sat up straight. “What if we give you a reason to stop drinking?”
Lobo frowned. “What kinda reason you have in mind?”
“What about being a deputy again. You can give it a try while we’re here and see if you like it.”
“You’d give me a second chance?”
“Sure. Everyone makes mistakes and deserves a second chance. Right, Sheriff Jones?”
Curry smiled. “That’s right. I’ll go talk to Mr. Grove. But, Lobo, no drinking. Not even a sip. We have a deal?”
Loco Lobo stood up and held out his hand. “Deal!”
_________________ h "Do you ever get the feeling that nothing right is ever going to happen to us again?" - Kid Curry
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