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 October 2021 "Nothing to be scared of..."

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rachel741
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PostSubject: October 2021 "Nothing to be scared of..."   October 2021 "Nothing to be scared of..." Icon_minitimeFri Oct 01, 2021 8:05 am

Hello one and all.
I guess we are about to enter the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness (and lots of rain, huh?)

Your challenge, for your fertile tapping fingers is...


"Nothing to be scared of..."


So, open to Hallow'een stories ... but also open to all kinds :)

caitsh

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PostSubject: Re: October 2021 "Nothing to be scared of..."   October 2021 "Nothing to be scared of..." Icon_minitimeThu Oct 14, 2021 3:20 pm

Still first bandit this month – even after removing to edit more and add a scene!


"Nothing to be scared of..."


The Devil’s Hole Gang pulled off a successful bank robbery and were hurrahing in Last Chance, a small town with no sheriff that was located near their hideout.  Townsfolk looked the other way when the gang came to celebrate or just spend their ill-gotten money.  

The saloon was busy and full with the gang members and locals.  Hannibal Heyes was playing poker at a table while the Kid stood at the bar making sure the gang was behaving.  A blonde in a tight-fitting blue dress, that left not much to the imagination, stood by Curry’s side keeping him company.

“Ah, Kid?”

“Yeah, Lobo?”  Kid Curry filled his and the lady’s glasses.

“Can I talk to you and Heyes, when you’re not busy?” the outlaw nervously asked.

“Sure.”  Curry glanced at the table with his partner.  “When Heyes takes a break and before I go up with Kitty.”

The gal purred and sipped her drink before seductively running her tongue over her lips.

Kid grinned at the show.  “This have anything to do with your new friend over there at the back table?”

“Yeah.  That’s my cousin Floyd.”

“Just watch for Heyes to stand up and we’ll come over.  Shouldn’t be too long before he relieves me.”

Lobo nodded and walked back to his table.

A half an hour later, Heyes raked in his earnings into his hat and stood.  “I’ll return so you can win back your money.  Gotta let the Kid relax, too.”  He walked over to the bar where Kitty was nibbling on Curry’s ear.  Heyes grinned.  “Why don’t you two take it upstairs.  I’ll watch for a while.”

Curry kissed Kitty.  “Give us a few minutes, sweetheart, and then I’m all yours.”

Kitty pouted and stepped aside.

“Heyes, Lobo’s wantin’ to talk to us.”  The Kid nodded his head in the direction of the back table.  “Wants us to meet his cousin.”

Heyes looked over and checked over the newcomer.  “Know anything about him?”

“Not yet.  Let’s go.”  Curry led the way to the table.

Lobo and Floyd stood when they saw the gang leaders coming towards them.

“Heyes and Kid, this here is my cousin, Floyd Baker,” Lobo introduced them.

“Floyd.”  Curry shook hands and sat down.

Heyes smiled and shook hands before sitting down.  “So, what brings you to Last Chance, Floyd?”

“Well…”  Floyd looked at his cousin, who encouraged him with a nod.  “I was lookin’ for Lobo.  I knew he was in the Devil’s Hole Gang and this town was nearby.  When I heard about the Sweetwater bank bein’ robbed by the gang, I hightailed it here hopin’ you’d be celebratin’ nearby.  Took a chance and I was right.”

“Hmm…”  Heyes thought.  “We’ll have to talk, Kid.  Seems we’ve become too predictable.”

“Floyd came here hopin’ to join the gang, Heyes.”  Lobo took a quick drink.

“When was the last time you two saw each other? Heyes asked.

“’Bout two or three years?” Floyd glanced at Lobo, who nodded in agreement.

“Man can change a lot in that time,” Curry commented.  “Did you know each other well?”

“We was raised together,” Lobo informed his leader.

“You know we ain’t law-abiding,” Heyes said quietly.  “Just wanna make sure you understand what you’re getting into when you ask to join the gang.”

Floyd nodded.  “Not my first gang.  I was in the Green River Gang until recently.”

“Didn’t I hear they were ambushed by a posse?” the Kid asked.

“Yeah.  A few of us got away.  Seems the posse just wanted the leaders.”

Heyes and the Kid glanced at each other and nodded.

“Okay, Floyd can join the gang, but you’re responsible for him, Lobo,” Kid Curry stated.

“Welcome to the gang, Floyd.”  Heyes offered a hand.

“Welcome.”  The Kid shook his hand.  “Once we get to the Hole, we’ll talk more about what you’re good at.”

Heyes stood and glanced towards the bar.  “Looks like you have someone waiting for you, Kid.  Go on up.  I’ll keep watch.”

Kid Curry grinned and beckoned Kitty over.

‘I’m warnin’ you, Floyd.  Don’t you mess up!”  Lobo finished his whiskey.


~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Kyle hurried from the bunkhouse towards the outhouse.

“Kyle!” the Kid shouted.

Dancing, Kyle asked, “Yeah, Kid?”

“When you go back to the bunkhouse, tell Floyd to come hear.”

“Okay!”  The outlaw rushed to the outhouse.

A few minutes later, Floyd knocked on the leaders’ cabin door.  “Kyle said you wanted to see me?”

Kid Curry opened the door wide, inviting him in.  “Yeah, Heyes and I wanted to get to know you a little better.  Tell you the rules of the gang.  Have a seat.”

Heyes was already sitting at the table sipping his coffee.  “Want some?”

Floyd glanced back at the Kid, who was at the stove pouring a cup.

“Sure.  That is if it ain’t much trouble.”

“No trouble at all.”  Curry poured a second cup and handed it to the man sitting down before taking a seat next to Heyes.

“So, what gang were you with before?” Heyes asked making sure the answer didn’t change.

“Green River Gang.”

“That gang was known for its violence.”  Curry’s voice was menacing.  “We don’t hold to no violence – none whatsoever.  You understand me?”

Floyd nodded.  “No violence.”

“And no robbing the passengers or customers.  I plan my jobs so there’s plenty to share in the safe.  Be careful of them if one decides to be heroic but treat them polite and with respect.  We have a reputation of only hurting the banks and railroad, not the common folks.”

“Got it.  Be nice to the passengers and customers,” Floyd repeated.

“Wheat’s basically in charge of the bunkhouse and duties.  Listen and do as he says.  He’s been fair; we haven’t got no complaints about him.”  Heyes took a drink.

“Keep your gun clean and in good shape.  I’ll wanna see how you shoot after we talk.”

Floyd nodded.

Heyes sat back in his chair.  “So, what was your place in the Green River Gang?”


~ * ~ * ~ * ~

“Stand and deliver!”  The outlaw brandished his gun at the train engineer.

“Who says so?”

“Kid Curry!”  The dark-haired man pointed his gun towards the blond outlaw.

“Hannibal Heyes!”  The blond man pointed his gun towards the dark-haired outlaw.

The engineer sighed and jumped down out of the cab to where another outlaw was waiting.

“Over here with the others,” Wheat instructed the engineer as he gave him a gentle prod with his rifle.

Heyes and Kid Curry made their way over to the mail car, the door already opened.

“A Brooker 202, just like I guessed.”  Heyes grinned and jumped inside the car.  “Won’t take me but a few minutes.”

Curry nodded and watched his partner sit cross-legged in front of the safe, take off his hat, sigh, and place his head near the tumblers.  Once he was busy listening, the Kid turned towards the passengers and leaned against the car.

Heyes had just pulled down the safe’s lever when Curry noticed a commotion with the passengers.  “You got this, Heyes?”

“Yeah.  Why?”

“Something’s goin’ on over there and I’m gonna check it out.”  Kid Curry began strutting towards Wheat.  “What’s goin’ on?”

“Some gal is missin’ her sister and makin’ a fuss,” Wheat dismissed it.

Kid Curry went over by the women passengers, smiled, and tipped his hat.  “Sorry for the inconvenience – won’t be much longer.”

One passenger was clutching her hankie and sobbing.

“Ma’am?  Don't worry; there's nothin' to be afraid of.”  He attempted to console the weeping woman.  “You’ll be back on your way soon.”

“I can’t find my sister!” she cried.  “She was right here next to me, and then one of the outlaws came over by her and took her away.”

“Someone separated her from the passengers, ma’am?”

The woman nodded.  “He took her over behind the rocks.”  She sobbed harder.  “He warned me not to tell or… or he’d shoot Maggie!  Oh, please, don’t let him hurt her!”

Before taking off, Kid Curry did a quick assessment of the passengers, the surrounding area, and the gang members who were standing guard.  “No!” he growled under his breath.

He hurried towards the rock cropping behind the passengers and heard a faint cry.  Pulling out his gun, he glanced behind the rock and saw red.

Floyd Baker had a young female passenger on the ground, roughly kissing and pawing at her, fondling her chest.  Before Curry could react, the outlaw reached down and was about to hike up her torn dress.


~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Heyes jumped down from the mail car with a bag full of money.  He looked around by the passengers for his partner, searching for the “commotion”.  Not seeing Curry, he went over to Wheat.  “Have you seen the Kid?”

“Yeah, he was over there talkin’ to the sobbin’ woman.”

“Know what she’s crying about?”

“Missing her sister.”  Wheat rolled his eyes.  “Why go on a trip away from her if you’re gonna miss her that much?”

“Wheat, have you thought that maybe she’s not just wanting her sister and that instead she was here and now has gone missing?”

Wheat’s brows furrowed.  “I guess that could be.”

A gun discharging interrupted the conversation.

“That’s not just a commotion!”  Heyes ran to a cropping of rocks from where the gunfire was heard.


~ * ~ * ~ * ~

“Stop!”  Kid Curry shouted as he shot his gun into the air and then pointed it at the gang member.  “Get away from the lady, NOW!”

Floyd stopped, rolled off the woman, and held his hands up.  “Just havin’ a little fun is all, Kid.”

“The Devil’s Hole Gang does NOT hurt or rob the passengers.  What part of that rule did you not understand?  Stand up!”  Curry motioned with his gun.

Floyd stood up and tossed his gun to the ground.  “You ain’t gonna shoot me, are you, Kid?  Don’t have my gun on me so you’d be killin’ someone defenseless.”

“Like you were takin’ advantage of this defenseless lady?”  Kid Curry started slowly walking towards him, his eyes steely gray with anger.

Hannibal Heyes came around the rock and quickly noted what was happening.  “Kid…”

Curry, holding his gun with his right hand, punched Floyd out with his left fist.

The shaking woman rolled over, trying to cover herself, and wept.

The Kid took off his coat and wrapped it around her body.  "Nothin’ to be scared of, ma'am... I won't hurt you.  Let me take you to your sister."

Heyes blew out a breath and put his hands on his hips.  “When you take her back to her family, tell Wheat to let the passengers board again.  Bring Lobo back here with you.  I’ll keep an eye on Baker.”

Curry nodded, gently helped the woman up and led her back to the passengers.  The one sister hurried over to the one shaking and took the Kid’s place.  “Maggie, are you okay?”

The young woman continued to tremble and nodded.

“Let’s find you two a quiet place.”  Kid Curry guided the women towards the train.  “Wheat, help the rest of the passengers into the passenger car.

“Sure thing.”  Wheat hitched up his pants.  “You heard the Kid, help the passengers back on the train.”

Once the women were settled in a seat, Curry tapped Lobo on the back.  “Follow me!”

Lobo glanced around for his cousin Floyd and gulped.  ‘Sure thing, Kid.”

The two men rounded the rock formation and saw Heyes keeping an eye on a still unconscious Floyd.

“What happened to him?” Lobo asked.

“He was about to molest a female passenger,” Heyes spat.

“He dead?”

“No, I just flattened him,” Curry informed him.

“Too bad.”

“You were supposed to be in charge of him.  What happened?”  Heyes wanted to know.

“I was busy watchin’ a few of the passengers who seemed to be takin’ offense that we stopped the train.  Noticed them talkin’ amongst themselves so I went over there so they’d stop it.”

“What do you think we should do about your cousin?”  Kid Curry glared at the outlaw.

“Tie him up and throw him in the baggage car for the sheriff to find him.  Floyd don’t deserve nothin’ less.”

“Good answer.”  Heyes nodded.  “Get some help and see to it that it’s done.  Me and the Kid have to offset any damage to the Devil’s Hole Gang’s reputation.”

Kid Curry and Heyes headed back to the train.

“Wheat, get some men and help Lobo back by the rocks with Floyd.”

Wheat looked puzzled.  “Sure thing.  Hank and Kyle, come help me and Lobo.”

The two leaders boarded the train.  The passengers looked at them fearful.

“We wanna apologize to you all for what happened out there,” Heyes began.  One of our members didn’t follow our rules about hurting or robbing a passenger.  Just so you know, he ain’t gonna get away with it.  We’re tying him up and throwing him in the baggage car.  Next town with a sheriff, you let him know what Floyd Baker did.  We’re not gonna allow a person like that in our gang.”  The leaders tipped their hats and left.


~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Heyes and Kid Curry sat outside the leaders’ cabin smoking cigars when Lobo sheepishly approached, his hat in hand.

“Heyes.  Kid.  When I was in town the other day, I heard Floyd went to the penitentiary for what he did and him bein’ part of the Green River Gang.  Got himself seven years there.”  Lobo fingered around his hat nervously.  “I’m sorry for askin’ if he could join the gang.  I won’t ever ask for no one else, again.”

Heyes nodded.  “Glad to hear he’s put away.”

Curry blew out some smoke.  “Not your fault he didn’t abide by the rules, either, Lobo.”

“Thanks.  Guess I’ll be goin’ back to the bunkhouse now.”  Lobo quickly turned and left.

The Kid shivered.  “Gettin’ chilly earlier.  May have snow soon.”

“And you lost your coat letting that gal have it to cover herself.”  Heyes pulled out a gold twenty piece from his pocket.  “I held back this from the robbery so you could get yourself a new one.”

Curry smiled as he took the coin.  “I saw a really nice fleece Sherpa in the store when we were in Denver.”

“Guess we’ll have to go to Denver real soon.”  Heyes puffed on his cigar.  “Besides, I heard the Merchant Bank there has a new safe I wanna check out.”

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

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PostSubject: Re: October 2021 "Nothing to be scared of..."   October 2021 "Nothing to be scared of..." Icon_minitimeWed Oct 20, 2021 11:27 am

Following firmly in the footsteps of Glen A Larson, here is a scene ripped off from Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Um inspired by, I mean...

“There ain't nothing to be scared of Kid, it don't even look that deep, so it ain't gonna be too dangerous crossing it.” Heyes hoped he sounded convincing, because as he looked down into the fast flowing river below them, he certainly wasn't feeling anymore confident about what he was suggesting then his partner looked at the idea.

The Kid threw him an unimpressed glance as he said tartly. “Nothing to be afraid of, Heyes? Not dangerous? When we got time, you and me are gonna have a little chat, as I'm thinkin' we ain't seein' things in quite the same way.” He paused and looked down at the river,  but Heyes knew he wasn't finished complaining and shrugged in a say what you gonna say gesture, when the Kid turned back to him. “What we gonna do on the other side for transport? It's too steep a jump to take the horses. We'll have to leave 'em here. Don't seem real clever when we ain't sure how far from a town we'll be.”

Heyes irritated at having the weaknesses of his admittedly risky plan pointed out, said in some annoyance. “Well, Kid, I don't see you coming up with anything better! We got a posse closing in on us fast, impassable mountains on either side. So to my mind, this here river seems like our only option and we ain't really got the time to argue.” He paused and then added with a slight smirk. “You want me to push ya so you don't need to think about it?”

The Kid blew out a heavy breath and said sharply although with an undertone of amusement. “No, thank you, Heyes! Why don't you go first and show me how not dangerous it is?”

Heyes swallowed as he looked down at the river again and said hopefully. “Mebbe we oughta a flip a coin, Kid...”

The Kid snorted softly, glanced back to where their mounts were munching quietly and then looked at the rocks surrounding them. He shrugged in resignation and removed his gun and holster. He stuffed them into his saddle bags, before putting them over his shoulder. With a final gentle pat to his horse's flank, he looked over at Heyes, who quickly rescued his own saddle bags and threw them over his left shoulder as he said. “After three, then, Kid.”

Heyes wasn't sure he liked the slight smirk that he thought he saw cross Kid's face as he said.  “Sure, Heyes...”

But swallowing hard as they stood together, ready to jump, he began to count. “One...”

XXX

Heyes surfaced from the water, coughing and spluttering and threw a fierce glare towards his partner, who was bobbing next to him smiling. “I said after three, Kid!”

“Well it weren't gonna be any easier on one or three. So I figured. seein' as you were so sure there weren't nothing to be afraid of, you wouldn't mind us goin' on one.”

Rubbing his face and still coughing slightly Heyes glared. “You know, Kid, sometimes I wonder about you...”

The Kid snorted unimpressed. “Ain't that my line?”

Heyes turned away and towards the direction they were intending to head and as he did so, deliberately allowed the heel of his boot to connect firmly with the Kid's shin.

At his partner's slight yelp, Heyes simply tossed him an innocent looking grin as he said. “Sorry, Kid, it ain't easy knowing where to put your feet when you can't see 'em.”

The Kid glared at him obviously unconvinced, before starting to swim towards the opposite bank muttering under his breath.

Once they were safely on the other side of the river,  Heyes glanced round at the valley they were in and smiled through chattering teeth as he said. “Think we shook 'em, Kid! We can find somewhere sheltered and see if there's anything dry in these saddlebags.” He wiped the water from his eyes and swept his hair back from his face, shaking cold drips all over. He barely avoided splashing the Kid, who was hunched over shivering, with his curls plastered to his head.

_________________
The happiest conversation is that of which nothing is distinctly remembered but a general effect of pleasing impression.
Samuel Johnson

Imagination will often carry us to worlds that never were. But without it we go nowhere.
Carl Sagan


Last edited by rachel_74_1 on Mon Oct 25, 2021 10:44 am; edited 1 time in total

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PostSubject: Nothing to be scared of   October 2021 "Nothing to be scared of..." Icon_minitimeSat Oct 23, 2021 2:50 am

This story is part of my Amnesty but First Penance Universe.
This has not been beta read.  All mistakes belong to yours truly.  KT

Nothing to be scared of
Challenge October 2021
“Different kind of penance, ain’t it, Lom?” asked Hannibal Heyes, looking up from the book he was reading to pass the time on the train.

Jedediah ‘Kid’ Curry moved his hat off of his eyes and stared at Marshal Lom Trevors waiting for the answer.

“Emmet Knoop holds stock in many of the railroads you two robbed.  He wants a favor instead of an apology.”


Heyes took his hat off, wiped his forehead with his bandana and swiped his hair back before deliberately settling his hat in place.  

“Still weird, he wants us to spend the night in a graveyard?”

“Not a graveyard.  A specific graveyard, The Remembrance in Prayer cemetery near his hometown of Emmetville, Wyoming.”

“Still creepy, Lom.”  Curry’s voice was low.  “You can’t tell me more?”

“You know the rules, boys.  I can only tell you what the committee tells me.  Mr. Knoop will tell you the details.  Just needed you to bring your warm coats.  Gets cold at night there.”   Lom’s tone was firm and Heyes and Curry knew no more details were coming.

ASJ----------ASJ----------ASJ----------ASJ

Emmet Knoop was younger than Heyes had figured, not much older than they were.  Nervously fidgeting, he shook hands with the two ex-outlaws as he sized them up.  

Speaking first, Heyes said, “Mr. Knoop, we’re sorry we robbed your trains…”

Knoop waved him off.  “You’re not here for an apology, Mr. Heyes.  I need your assistance,” he finished firmly.

Turning to Lom, Knoop dismissed him.  “Thank you, Marshal Trevors.  You can come back tomorrow morning and have breakfast with these two.”

“Sorry, sir, I need to know what they are going to be doing.  We have some difficulties with some of the penances…” Lom let his voice trail off rather than explain.

“They will be spending the night in the cemetery.”  Knoop looked around and lowered his voice.  “Hopefully they will tell the ghost of James McInerney that his daughter Winifred is alive and well and he does need to search for her anymore.”

Heyes mouth fell open.  Curry took a step back, saying,  “We’re goin’ to talk to who?  I thought Lom said we could sleep there.”

“Come into my home and have a drink and I’ll tell you a story,” Knoop motioned to a nearby house.

Curry watched the man pour drinks for each of them.  Finding it difficult to believe that this nervous man was rich enough to own so much railroad stock, Curry studied him closer.  His clothes were of the finest cut and his fingernails clean.  And he could not stop trembling each time the cemetery was mentioned.

Knoop sat in a chair near the ornate fireplace and motioned them to sit nearby.  “I have a story to tell you that must go no further than this room.  I’ve spent a small fortune trying to keep some quiet about it.”

Knoop turned away from his company and stared into the fire.  When he spoke, his voice was far away and monotonal.

“Four years ago, lightning struck a tree in town.  In an instant, the tree was engulfed.  The winds spread the fire quickly, from roof to roof.  My dear friend and mentor, James McInerney, owned the general store and livery.  His home was in the back of the store.   The fire hit the livery first, and James raced there to save the horses.  He had most of them out when he saw the roof of his home had caught fire and the second floor was destroyed quickly.”

Curry thought he saw tears come unbeckoned to Knoop’s eyes but they were quickly whisked away with a brush of his sleeve.  There were moments of silence, then he continued.

“I met James as he came out of the livery.  ‘The house is burning!’ he screamed at me pointing and we both ran to the front door.  I knew  James’ wife and children were still in the house.  As we got to the porch, his family ran out right at us.
I was relieved until I heard James yelling,  ‘Jeannie’s still in there!’ Then looking around he added, ‘And Winnie.  I’ve got to get them out.’”

Knoop looked away from the fire to stare at the ex-outlaws.  "Jeannie was his wife, Winnie, Winifred, his daughter, and my fiance.”

“‘Get them to safety,’ James yelled at me pointing to his other children as he ran right into that burning house.  Within a minute, the roof had collapsed and there were flames everywhere.  I heard Jeannie scream and tried to get into the house but it was too hot.  I couldn’t breath, couldn't see, couldn’t move.  

“I didn’t remember anything else until I woke up in the doctor’s office two days later, my hands wrapped in bandages.  James and Jeannie had died in that fire.  They’re buried side by side in the Remembrance in Prayer cemetery here in Emmetville.”

“We’re sorry for your loss, Mr. Knoop,” Heyes spoke with the sorrow he felt at the story.

“Thank you,” Knoop answered.  “This brings me to why you are here.”

Heyes leaned back in his chair while Curry leaned forward in his, both anxious for what he would tell them next.

Knoop continued, “Over the last six months there have been three different sightings of James’ ghost at the cemetery, all at night on the twelfth of the month like tonight.  None of the men who saw him knew him when he was alive.  And none of them know each other.  I myself have been there twice on the twelfth of the month but have seen no one.  I conclude he can only be seen by strangers."

“Excuse me, sir,” interrupted Heyes, reaching for an earthly solution. “Who are these men?  Are you sure they don’t know each other?”

Knoop nodded, “Yes, gentlemen, there is an advantage to having money.  I hired private security firms to check them out.  One was working as a gravedigger, he started a month after James died.  The second was a drifter, got drunk and fell asleep on the graves.  The last was last month.  He works at a ranch in Colorado.  He was delivering a payment for some cattle to our bank.  He went into the cemetery because he thought he saw someone running through there in the dark.  They all checked out.  And I’ve paid them all for their silence.”

Seeing nods from his listeners, Knoop continued, “They all reported the same thing.  They saw a man fitting James' description wearing his burial suit.  It was a very distinctive blue.  The man kept pleading, ‘I can’t find Winnie.  Would you help me find Winnie?’”

"And since they were all strangers, they couldn't help him." added Heyes, looking at the problem from all angles.

Making some sense of the story, Curry asked, “His daughter, Winnie?  The one who died in the fire?”

“Yes and no.” answered Knoop.

“Winnie is his daughter but she did not die in the fire.  She escaped out the back door.  She heard the screams and tried to get back inside but the roof had collapsed and her way was blocked.  Winnie is very much alive.  We were married a year later and she has blessed me with a son and a daughter.”

“So Winnie’s alive and well?”  Heyes thought out loud.  “And her father’s ghost thinks she’s dead and comes looking for her?”

“Don’t believe in ghosts.” Curry said firmly but Heyes picked up something in his cousin’s eyes that told him otherwise.

“Winnie is alive and making dinner in the kitchen.”  Knoop said.  “Winnie, dear, would you come out here for a moment?”

“Apologies, I’m not dressed for company,” said the attractive woman who entered the room.  Her light brown eyes were welcoming and mirrored in the small boy who trailed behind her.  

The boy ran to his father in excitement.  “Ma said I good.  I can lick the cake bowl!” he exclaimed.

“Gentlemen, meet James,” said Knoop, lifting the boy to his knee.  “His little sister Jeannie is still down for her nap.”  Hugging his son, Knoop smiled at his wife.  “And this is my wife, Winnie.”

ASJ----------ASJ----------ASJ----------ASJ

As dusk settled, Heyes and Curry stood at the entrance of the cemetery.  

“Heyes, I’m not so sure about this.”

“Come on, Kid.  There’s nothing to be scared of.  Are you telling me you believe in ghosts?”  

“Course not.  Well, maybe.  Gramma and Grampa Curry sure believed in them.”

Nodding, Heyes smiled at the memory and slapped his cousin on the back.  “That they did.  And I loved to listen to his stories.”

Neither had moved from the ornate iron gates of the cemetery.   The evening shadows played off the gravestones and the wind was still.

“Well, let’s find that bench Knoop mentioned,”  Kid said as he strode purposefully into the cemetery.

Curry heard Heyes start to laugh.  “You mean that bench?” Pointing at a bench broken in the center with the seat laying on the ground.  

“Knoop said we could sleep.  The ghost will wake us like he did the others.”  Curry sat, leaning against a headstone, he stretched his legs out in front of him.  He pulled his hat over his eyes and crossed his arms on his chest.  In a few minutes, Heyes heard the regular breathing of Curry’s sleep.

Sighing, Heyes started pacing.  With the full moon, he could make out the names on the graves.  Growing depressed at the number of children buried there, he decided the Kid had the right idea.  Leaning against a headstone across from Curry, he directed his thoughts to the floorplan of the bank of Denver.

ASJ----------ASJ----------ASJ----------ASJ

Jed Curry was no longer in the cemetery when he opened his eyes.  He was staring into the Curry blue eyes of Grandpa Curry.  He could hear his ma and Gramma Curry cooking in the kitchen and he felt warm, cozy and protected.

“This is nice.” he murmured to himself.  He knew it was a dream but he seldom dreamed of the good times….the times when all felt right with the world.

“It is nice, Jed.” Curry looked up sharply as his grandfather seemed to read his mind.  “Enjoy it boy, these are the people that love you.”

Grandpa Curry stood up as Gramma Curry entered the room.  “And there’s the woman who stole my heart.”  

With his gramma’s laughter in his ears, Jed realized he was in the dining room of his Kansas home.  He told himself he was a grown-up dreaming but it felt very real.

“Jeddie, your eyes look so much like your pa’s.”  Gramma Curry reached up and gave him the kind of hug he remembered that smelled of desserts and mashed potatoes and felt like love.

“Gramma,” he sighed, holding her close and breathing in her essence.

“Boy, let me go.  I need to go help your ma cook dinner.”

“Ma’s here?”  Jed asked, excited yet scared.  His memory had only allowed him memories of her as he last saw her, bleeding, broken, shot, dead.”

But he looked up and there she was as she was before.  Tired, but smiling, singing and alive.  “Ma,” he choked out.

Looking back over her shoulder at him, she smiled the smile he knew she reserved for her only son.  “Call your pa in, Jeddie. Then wash your hands and face.  Dinner’s almost ready.”

Overwhelmed with love, Jed didn’t move.  This dream seemed so real.  He refused to wake up.

Going to the back porch, Jed looked at the fields that spread out before him reaching all the way to the Heyes farm.  “Pa, dinner.” he yelled and was rewarded by a wave from the man in the corn field to his right.

“Jed, you’re looking good, boy,” Tom Curry said warmly, slapping his son on the back as they entered the house.  

Sitting at the family dinner table, Jed felt happy.  His happiness was followed quickly by guilt and remorse.  He and Heyes had gone down the wrong path.  At the time, he was so proud to be one of the leaders of the infamous Devil’s Hole Gang. He had enjoyed the money, the fame and the life until he didn’t.  Now that they have gone straight, it was a habit.  A habit that he liked.  With their amnesty, he now looked forward to building a life without being chased.  

“Jed.  Jed!”  Now, he found himself in the living room of their Kansas farmhouse, sitting in his father’s chair across from Grandpa Curry.  The fire was stoked and warm and his parent’s wedding portrait in a silver frame adorned the mantle. Like everything else here, that picture was lost in the fire that the raiders had set that day...that day.”

“Jed, are you listening to me?”

Grandpa Curry’s voice broke through Jed’s thoughts.  Smiling at the old man, he answered, “Every word, Grandpa Curry.”

“We all know what you were thinking about at dinner instead of enjoying your ma’s cooking.”

“Ma always did make the best fried chicken I ever tasted and the best cornbread.  And that apple walnut pie tasted even better than I remembered.”  Jed took a deep breath and the scent of apples and cinnamon filled him with a sense of home.  “I can still smell it.”

Grandpa Curry fingered something he had taken out of his pocket.  “Jed, everyone here loves you.  We have watched Han and you grow up and grieved that you faced life alone and your missteps.”  He handed Jed the compass in his hand, the hand was spinning wildly, pointing in all directions.

“It’s broken.” Jed said sadly.

“Your life is like that compass, all whirlly and out of control.  For a long time you two were pointing in the wrong direction.”  

Jed stared into the old blue eyes lecturing him.  “Yes, sir,” he admitted.

His grandpa’s blue eyes started to smile as he grinned at his grandson.  “But now, like that compass you both are pointing true North.”  

“But it’s broken.”

“Is it?”

Looking down at the compass, Jed saw it was pointing straight north. ”It’s working!”

“It was mine from my pa.”  Grandpa Curry reached over and turned the compass over to show him the inscription.  “E. T. Curry.  So you never lose your way.”

Fighting tears, Jed went over and knelt next to his grandpa’s chair and hugged him.  In return, he got a mountain of a hug, like the ones he remembered as a child.  

“It’s yours now, Jed.  Take care of it. Your paths are not going to be easy but stay the course true north, stay close with your cousin, help each other and you will be successful in your lives.”  

“Grandpa?”

“It’s time for you to go now, Jed. Han is calling you.”

Jed felt someone kick his foot.  “Jed!  Jed, wake up.”

Staring at his cousin through the moonlight, Jed opened his eyes in the Remembrance in Prayer cemetery.  Heyes was looking straight ahead at moving lights that coalesced into the ghost of a man.

“I need to find Winifred.” The specter said urgently.  “Have you seen my Winnie? She doesn’t seem to be here.”  

Jed was on his feet instantly, all traces of his dream erased.  Nudging his cousin’s arm, he pointed to the searching ghost.

Heyes stood tall and took a deep breath.  “Mr. McInerney,” he started with a bit of a tremble in his voice.  Jed reflected that he had never heard a tremble in Heyes’ voice before, even when he was addressing the infamous Devil’s Hole Gang.

“Mr. McInerney,” Heyes repeated and this time the specter turned to face them directly.  “Your daughter, Winnie, is not here.  She is not dead.”

Watching the specter twirl into lights and then form into a man again, Jed took a cautious step back.

“Then.”  The word seemed to take minutes to form.  “Where is she?”

Watching Heyes try to smile, Jed imitated him.

“She married Emmet Knoop and lives in his house.  You have two grandchildren, a boy named James and a girl named Jeannie.  She’s very happy.’  Heyes told him as fast as he could.

Again, the lights twirled before them although this time they grew smaller.  “Thank you.  You have set my spirit free to rest,” he said and was gone.

Heyes and Jed didn’t move for a moment.  Heyes was still trembling and trying to gain control.  

“You’re right, Heyes, nothin’ to be scared of here.” Jed said.

Heyes turned to Jed and putting both hands on his shoulders leaned on him for a moment to regain his composure.  Looking up, he noticed something.

“Kid, is that the gravestone you were leaning against?” Heyes pointed to where Jed had been resting with a tremble back in his hand.

Looking over, Jed saw the word CURRY carved as the first line on the stone.  The second line read simply BELOVED.  The other lines were too worn to be read.

Smiling, Jed repeated, “Truly nothin’ to be scared of here.” as he touched the precious compass now resting in his shirt pocket.  

“Come on, Kid, let’s go find a nice soft hotel bed.”  Heyes says heading out of the cemetery.  Turning back, he said, “I smell the most delicious apples and cinnamon.  Do you?”

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nm131

nm131


Posts : 191
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PostSubject: Re: October 2021 "Nothing to be scared of..."   October 2021 "Nothing to be scared of..." Icon_minitimeFri Oct 29, 2021 5:08 pm

Nothing to be scared of

A steady stream of unenthused miners trudged out of the mess tent on their way to the shaft lift to start a ten-hour work day. A few glanced to the side where two men appeared to be in a quietly intense argument before continuing on their way. They were paid well to do a dirty, back-breaking job in risky, dangerous conditions. All their energy went to surviving the job, pocketing the pay, and leaving as soon as they could and did not extend to butting into anybody’s business but their own.

“It’s not safe. I’ve said before and I’m saying it again that we quit, collect our pay and leave now.” The blonde unblinkingly looked straight into his companion’s brown eyes.

“Come on. One more day, at least,” the brunet wheedled. “I’ll go into town tonight, scope out the poker players, win a little and soften them up. You can join me tomorrow after your shift and I can double our stake by the end of the Saturday night’s game. Then we’ll leave.” Heyes had heard of some mighty big pots in the past Saturday’s games and was eager to capitalize on the information.

“Joshua, I’m telling you; I may not know exactly what I am hearing after the blast yesterday but I know it’s not the same settling noises after the other blasts last week.” Blue eyes darted to the looming mountain and the dimly light mine entrance.”

“There’s nothing to be scared of. You don’t really think your interpretation of the underground noises is better than all those experienced miners? I mean are you sure of what you’re hearing or maybe you’re letting your hatred of working underground and just a little bit of fear get the better of you.” The older of the two took a step back while drawing up to his full height and letting a bit of listen-to-me-I-am-wiser tone leak into his voice.

“If you spent the last two weeks mining, like me, instead of hauling explosives around above ground, you would know what I’m talking about. And I would like to point out that you sure didn’t want to take a job hauling explosives last year but you were mighty quick to snap up the job while signing me up as a miner.” Kid Curry got right up into his partner’s face with flared nostrils and intense flashing blue eyes. He was angry. He hated mining even more than riding drag on cattle drives. He hated to be pushed into dangerous situations where he had no control. He hated the fact that his so-called partner wasn’t taking him seriously and he was afraid of going back down into the depths of the mountain.

In an effort to lessen the very real tension radiating off his agitated partner, Heyes tired humor and teased, “Don’t tell me the infamous Kid Curry is afraid of a little danger. You thrive on challenges and risks. You’re not losing your courage, are you, Kid?” He chuckled awkwardly as he put his hands on his slender hips.

Curry’s back stiffened and he drew back, genuinely stunned at his partner’s remark. It hurt whether it was said teasingly or not. “There’s controlled calculated risks and then there’s foolhardy risks, as you well know. Yeah, I take risks but I’m not totally reckless. Going back into that mine is reckless.” He stared at Hannibal Heyes.

“One more night, two more shifts, that’s all I’m asking, Kid. I’m sure it will be worth our while for me to be in those poker games and since it’s a company town and a company house, we have to be employees of the company to get in.”

A shrill whistle sounded, interrupting the standoff between the two men.

“That’s the whistle for the last ride down. Come on Kid, trust me. They’ve been blasting the entire time we’ve been here and nothin’s happened. There’s really is nothing to be scared of.”

The younger partner blew out a breath and turned on his heel towards the mine entrance. He strode forward a few steps before abruptly turning back to a watching Heyes.

“I know what I’ve heard. I know what my gut is telling me. But, okay, you win. You get to play poker tonight and get in the bigger Saturday night game. I’ll joint you tomorrow if I’m not too dirty and too tired. However, that’s it. I’m quitting and leaving with you or without you after tomorrow.”
Heyes nodded and his brown eyes held Kid’s blue.

“But, know this. If I don’t make it back up, you’re going to miss me.” Curry turned and jogged over to the mine entrance and disappeared into the gloom, never looking back.

Hannibal Heyes suddenly shuddered and doubts started to flood into his consciousness. Was that a look of real fear he saw in Kid’s eyes? He gave himself a little shake to restore his equilibrium before going about his day.

**********ASJ**********

A haggard and pale Heyes stood at the telegraph counter, crumpled telegram message sheets strewn about him. He chewed the end of the short pencil while staring a blank message sheet. His right hand removed the pencil and shakily started to write. To: Lom Trevors, Sheriff, Porterville, WY. TJ is. The pencil dropped out of the suddenly limp fingers before Heyes’ right hand tightened around the message and crumpled it into a tight ball. He turned from the counter and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Mr. Smith? Have you changed your mind about sending a telegram?” The operator stared at the pile of discarded message blanks before calling out to the retreating weary potential customer.

The brunet hesitated at the door and glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah, what needs to be said can’t be said in a telegram. I have to go in person.”

***********ASJ***********

Knock, Knock, Knock.

Lom glanced at the clock in his bedroom and wondered what urgent problem had someone knocking at his door at almost ten o’clock at night. He took his second boot off and hurried down the stairs in his stocking feet. He lit the lamp in the small foyer.

“Jeez! Heyes, you look awful! Come inside.” Lom peered over Hannibal Heyes’ left shoulder into the gloom outside the circle of light spilling from the front doorway and towards the barn, not seeing who he expected to find. “Where’s the Kid.? I hope he’s in better shape than you.”

The late-night visitor slumped in the doorway and choked out an incoherent sound while shaking his head from side to side. Lom grabbed Heyes by the arm and dragged him into the house. Once the sheriff had the ex-outlaw deposited on the living room sofa and the lamp lit, he was able to get a good look at his unexpected friend. The man was pale with pronounced dark circles around his eyes, disheveled, and a malodorous mix of whisky, horse and unwashed body wafted around him.

“What’s wrong Heyes? Was there a persistent posse or bounty hunter? Where’s the Kid? Is he captured? I haven’t heard or read about anything connected with you two. Do you need me to try to straighten things out?”

Dark blood-shot eyes lifted from the floor and met the concerned browns of his friend and mentor. Heyes cleared his throat and was lost as to where to start. What was wrong was everything and there was no way for Lom to straighten out the disaster that life became.

“Kid….” After more throat clearing, a cough, and a swipe at suddenly teary eyes Heyes took a deep breath and visibly worked to collect himself. He sat up straighter, clasped his hands in his lap and started again. “Lom, Thaddeus Jones is listed as dead, buried under half a mountain during a mine collapse. I killed him. I‘m responsible for Jedediah Curry, my best friend, my brother in all but blood’s death.” The plainly bereft man’s voice was shaking and full of raw grief.

Lom dropped down beside Heyes in shock. This was not what he expected to hear. He took a minute to find his voice. “Now Heyes, you obviously didn’t kill Kid if he was caught in a mine collapse.”

Heyes ran a slender hand through his lank brown hair, covered his face for a minute before shifting to face the sheriff. “Oh, but I did, Lom. I may not have brought the mountain down on him but I certainly put him down there.”

Frank confusion and disbelief registered on Lom’s face as his eyes widened and his frown deepened. “Why don’t you tell me more. Start at the beginning.”

“Got any whiskey?”

The concerned friend looked steadily at the man sitting next to him. Heyes looked and smelled like he had crawled into a whiskey bottle and never left. He questioned the wisdom of giving the surviving partner more alcohol, but his pathetic appearance led him to believe without the liquid fortification the story wouldn’t be able to be told. And Lom needed to know for his own sake as the loss of good friend was starting to sink in as well as for Heyes’ sake. He rose, poured a hefty glass of whiskey for both of them and after handing Heyes a glass sat in the wing chair opposite the sofa.
Hannibal Heyes gulped down a generous swallow, stared at his feet and began his recitation. “It’s been hard Lom, the last couple of months. We were chased all over three states for over two months by a posse led by the bounty hunter Dale Squire with the Apache tracker Sly Red Fox…”

Trevors gasped. He knew of those names. They were among the best in the business and very expensive to hire. They also had the reputation for never quitting and always getting their man. He opened his mouth to ask a question.

Heyes heard the gasp and glanced up. He raised his hand palm outward. “Save the questions for later. Let me get through this in one go ‘cause I won’t be able to do it any other way. We were exhausted. It was almost to the point of thinking about giving up. It was that bad but then we finally lost them.

The only problem was all we had left between us was eleven cents, no food and eight bullets. The night before they picked up our trail, I had bet almost all our money on what I thought was a sure hand and a big pot. It wasn’t and I lost.” The brunet shrugged his shoulders. “It happens, not very often but sometimes. We needed work and we needed it fast as the bullet count was critical, both for our safety and for Kid to hunt.

There were these jobs at a small group of mines. I got a job hauling explosives between them and Kid went down in the mines. He hates mining but he did it. One day he tells me he’s done and wants to quit. The noises sounded ominous and he didn’t think it was safe no more. We argued ‘cause I wanted to play poker in the company salon and prove to myself that I could still turn a small stake into a big payout with poker. I’d be the hero of the hour, so to speak. I…”

The sheriff was on the edge of his seat and took a gulp of his own whiskey as his guest sought more liquid fortification.

“I talked him into staying until Saturday night. I all but called him a coward, Lom. Imagine calling Kid Curry a coward. The man who stands straight and tall against men with guns wanting to kill him. The man who jumps on trains, rides horses like few can and goes where even less men will go. The man who plunges in with both feet to help the needy without figuring what’s it gonna cost him. The boy who followed me into every hair-brained scheme I could come up with without batting an eye. I don’t know anyone braver than the Kid.” Tears were now spilling freely from Heyes’ brown eyes. “I saw real fear in his eyes as he turned away and went down into that cursed mine. I got my way. An hour before quitting time there was an earth-shaking rumble and half the mine collapsed, killing twenty-five men with Jed being one of them. They didn’t even try to rescue them or retrieve the bodies. He’s still under I don’t now how many tons of dirt and rocks all because I wanted to prove something to myself that isn’t really important. Oh, God, if I could only take it back. He died with our last words being an argument.” Dirty hands covered his face and Heyes bent double over his knees in despair.

Lom had no words of comfort but tried his best to console the inconsolable.

The next evening after the sheriff persuaded Heyes to clean up, plied him with coffee and put food in his belly and at least got him to pretend to rest, the sheriff was packing for the trip to Cheyanne to inform the governor of the latest development regarding Heyes and Curry. He was uneasy as even though Heyes said he would stay at Lom’s house until Lom could get back. Lom wasn’t sure the ex-outlaw would as Heyes seemed distracted, distraught and lost. He couldn’t really blame his surviving friend for feeling that way.

**********ASJ**********

The smokey salon was crowed. There was no room at the bar and all the tables were filled. At one of the poker tables in the back corner the game had been going on all night when a thin haggard man poured the last of the whiskey from the bottle at his left elbow. He took a deep breath, “Now, the time is right,” He thought as he glanced down at the four nines laid out in front of him and at the hard-bitten man across from him who was displaying his five cards – the ten, jack, queen, king, and ace of clubs.

Words and accusations were exchanged. A challenge was thrown out by the thin haggard man and accepted. The bystanders scattered. A fine-boned hand dropped down towards the dark-haired man’s hip and hung there. “Nothing to be scared of. I miss you, Kid. I’ll be joining you soon.” Were the last thoughts running through his mind.

**********ASJ**********

The bell over the jail’s door clanged and Sheriff Mort Evens looked up. He rose from his desk chair as he spotted the visitor’s tin star on his chest.
“Sheriff Lom Trevors?”

Lom Trevors nodded and extend his hand in greetings.

“Thank you for coming so soon. This was nasty business. I’m glad we found that telegram among the deceased belongings otherwise I wouldn’t have known who to inform.”

“I take it you read the whole thing.”

“Yep. Is it true? That was Hannibal Heyes and he was just awarded amnesty?”

Lom nodded sadly, unable to fully come to terms with the utterly disastrous end to a promising second chance for the two pretty good bad men who earned it.

“Come sit down, while I get his belonging, which you can sign for and be on your way. I would like to hear the story if you’ll tell it. I’ve heard rumors that Heyes and Curry got out of the business but you don’t know what to believe. Oh Lord, am I gonna have trouble coming my way from Curry? I’m a little surprised he hasn’t come in here with guns blazing for revenge as I’ve always heard where one is the other isn’t far away.” Sheriff Evans remarked as he placed two sets of saddle bags on his desk. He unlocked a drawer and withdrew two gunbelts. “He was wearing the one on the right. The one with the Colt we found hanging on the bedpost in his hotel room. Here’s $1,248.67 that we found on him and his horse and tack are at the livery under Joshua Smith. Nice guns, especially the Colt. It’s the strangest thing, all the witness statements agree that he started it and dropped his hand like he was reaching but never even touched his gun. He apparently drunk an entire bottle of good whiskey but didn’t appear overly impaired.”

Lom sighed. “You don’t have to worry about Kid Curry. That gunbelt with the Colt .45 was his. Jedediah Curry is dead. Killed in a mining accident about two months past. In a way Hannibal Heyes died the same day. All that was left was a shell of a man, who filled himself with whiskey and waited to for the right moment to put his plan into action.”

“What was Kid Curry doing in a mine? And the amnesty for Heyes? For a thief of his reputation that was quite a feat to accomplish. Why would he throw it away?” Evans was incredulous at what he was hearing.

“Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes had been working on the amnesty for over two long years and it was a struggle in many ways. A big problem was that with the Kid’s reputation things kept getting held up. Once Governor Warren heard about Curry’s death, he signed Heyes’ amnesty papers right away. Only it was too late. You see those two had a rare bond, they were closer than most brothers and Heyes didn’t care anymore.” Lom looked up and caught the rapt expression on Mort Evans’ face. “You got the time to hear this?”

“I’ve got the time. Let me pour us some coffee, you get comfortable in that chair and then you can spin your tale.”

“Well, it all started two years ago when two old friends from the wrong side of the law, Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry walked into my office. They had a flyer on the Governor’s amnesty program and wanted ….”

Note:

This story is inspired by the very first challenge (Starter Paragraph) that I participated in back on 2009 (I think I’m remembering correctly). The story was by BJ and contained a major character death. It was excellent despite being a death fic. There are probably influences from the many stories I have read over the years and if you see a plot point of yours, please take it as a form of flattery.

This is a slightly abridged version to meet the word count. I don’t usually do such depressing stories (I know I did one not to long ago- hangs head) since I am more of a happy ending type of girl. Death fics aren’t usually my thing either so If you don’t like it and want to comment that’s it’s terrible, I won’t be offended at all. This type of story or my writing is not everyone’s cup of tea, which is why there’s iced tea, hot tea, herbal tea, tea with lemon, tea with honey….

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Kid4ever

Kid4ever


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PostSubject: Re: October 2021 "Nothing to be scared of..."   October 2021 "Nothing to be scared of..." Icon_minitimeSun Oct 31, 2021 6:45 am

I chose the spooky Halloween theme and ran with it...

A couple of thanks to get out of the way: First, and foremost, I'd like to give a shout out, as well as my heartfelt thanks, to a podcast I've been listening to, for inspiring me with a snippet from one of their spooky stories that caused a bunny to hop for this month's challenge.

Second, a BIG nod and thank you to The Eagles for their song, Hotel California, from which I borrowed a few lines so I could paraphrase it here and there throughout this challenge.

This is the very short version of my Spooktacular ASJ adventure for Heyes and Kid. I had to omit quite a bit to meet the word count limit, so I'll post the longer version in the overflow section. Head on over there if you dare, muahahaha.

Considering the wringer that I put Kid through, I think he appreciated the brief version much better.

“Nothing to be scared of...”

Or is there?  (Cue spooky music)

~*~*~*~*~*

Subtitle: Beware the Manticore


Kid rounded the group of rocks, almost tripping over his partner, who was stretched out on the ground, reclining back against his saddle, his eyes glued to what he held in his hands. “Where'd you get the book?”

“Back in Redemption, from some guy standing in front of the mercantile,” Heyes answered absently as he thumbed through the pages. “Kinda reminded me of an undertaker: tall, thin, pale, pinched face; dressed all in black – even had a big, black hat on his head.”

“I never saw anybody lookin' like that. Sure you weren't imaginin' things?” Kid teased. “Seein' ghosts?”

Heyes glanced up, giving his partner the look.

“How much he charge you?”

“Nothing; said it was free.”

“Guess you can't beat a deal like that – ghosts givin' away free books.”

“He wasn't a ghost!” Heyes snapped in annoyance.

“Uh, huh, sure.”

*~*~*~*~*

After they finished eating, Heyes reached into his saddlebag, withdrawing a bottle of whiskey and his book. He topped off their coffee before he flopped down next to Curry.

“Well, it may not be beer and saloon girls, but at least we've got whiskey and stories to entertain us.”

“Got any 'bout saloon gals serving beer?”

“No,” Heyes chuckled. “This book is Classic Victorian Ghost Stories Everyone Should Read. The best ghost stories from the Victorian era to read for Halloween or Christmas – selected by Dr Oliver Tearle.”

“Ghost stories, huh? The kind that'll give me nightmares?”

“Well,” Heyes sipped his coffee. “There are five, let's see... The first one is The Old Nurse's Story. The next one is An Account of Some Strange Disturbances in Aungier Street. A couple of friends spend the night in an old mansion. A particularly nasty judge's ghost visits the two men.”

Curry shuddered. “Let's not read that one if you don't mind. It hits a bit too close to home, if you ask me.”

Heyes looked up. “They can't hurt you. They're just stories; nothing to be scared of.”

“I'm not scared!”

“Here's one about a train: The Signal-Man. A signal-man who works on the railways observes that the mysterious appearance of a ghost always precedes a terrible tragedy on the railway line.”

“As much time as we spend on trains? No, thank you!” Curry shook his head. “What're the other two 'bout?”

Heyes flipped through the pages. All of a sudden a piece of paper fluttered to the ground. He picked it up and began to read silently.

Curry took a drink, looked at him over the rim of his cup and waited. And waited. He watched the emotions that played across his friend's face until he couldn't stand the suspense any longer. “What does it say?” he demanded.

Heyes looked up. “You're not gonna believe this! And you're not gonna like it either.”

Kid's brow furrowed. “Guess the only way to find out is to read it to me.”

“Don't say I didn't warn you... It's a hand-written note.” Heyes took a deep breath. “'Heed my warning; beware the Manticore.”

Curry sucked in his breath, then blurted out, “The what?!”

Heyes held up his hand. “'It is no accident that you have received both this book and this message. Everything is going according to plan. Do not be alarmed; there is nothing to be afraid of. Unless you do not heed my warning. Then you take your fate into your own hands.'”

Heyes took another fortifying breath. “'The Manticore is a creature with the strength and body of a lion, the wings of a dragon and the face and ears of a man. It may possess two pale blue eyes, or one blue eye, one brown. Be warned: by the time you see the color of its eyes, it will be too late – you will not live to tell the tale!  It also has a wide, grinning mouth with three rows of terrible, terrible teeth. Blood-red in color, and as swift as a stag, its densely quilled tail resembles a scorpion’s, right down to its poisoned tip.'”

Heyes lifted his eyes to find the same shocked expression on Curry's face as was on his own. “I don't know, Kid. I can't even begin to figure things out. And as far as that... Manticore...” He shrugged. “I've got nothing.” He slid the note back in-between the pages of the book and laid it down on his bedroll. “You okay with not reading anything else tonight?”

Curry nodded, then turned to stare into the flames. He fired off questions in rapid-fire succession.  “That note, it made it sound as if that – thing was real. But it's not, right? I mean, it can't be – can it?”

“To be honest, I don't know. That's not the answer you're looking for, but it's the best I can do at the moment.”

Curry nodded, then rose to his feet. “I'm gonna go down to the creek, then crawl into my bedroll. I'd rather not think 'bout any of this anymore tonight.”

“You alright going by yourself?”

“Sure – unless a Manticore jumps out at me in the dark!” Curry snapped. “I don't think bullets would stop a thing like that – do you? Like you said, there's nothing to be afraid of; they're just stories, right?” he huffed, disappearing into the darkness.

A few beats passed before Heyes repeated softly, “Yeah, they're just stories...” He made his way down to the water, passing his partner who was on his way back.

“Night, Kid.”

“Night, Heyes.”

*~*~*~*~*

Curry bolted upright, not sure what had woken him, to find himself alone. Heyes was nowhere in sight.
Although he searched frantically and called his partner's name, he couldn't find any sign of him. He tried to make sense of why Heyes would go off on his own, but nothing he came up with made any sense.

He packed up and was on the road in minutes. Kid kept a watchful eye out for his friend. Although he rode for what seemed like hours, it was still dark when he reached the outskirts of town.

Up ahead in the distance,
the Kid saw a shimmering light.
His head grew heavy and his sight grew dim,
“I have to stop for the night..."


He rode further down the street. “Cliffwatch Hotel, huh? Sure won't be watchin' any cliffs tonight.” Curry yawned deeply. “Least there's still some lights on.” He tethered his horse to the post, then grabbed his saddlebags and bedroll. “I'll get you over to the livery once I've got a room for me,” he promised, then yawned again.

Once inside the lobby, Kid went straight to the register and glanced down, hoping to see a familiar name. No such luck. He caught sight of the date: October 31. Reading the sign on the wall, Kid grinned. “Welcome to Perdition. We're one step up from Hell.”

“Good evening, sir. May I be among the first to welcome you to the Cliffwatch Hotel on this glorious All Hallows' Eve.  A room for...” The clerk glanced past Kid. “One?”

Curry fought to stifle another yawn. “Yep, just me. And my horse. Is there someone that could take it to the livery? I'd be glad to pay?”

“Nonsense. I'll see that it's taken care of immediately.”

“Thank you, mister...?”

“I'm Horace Bell. Why don't you sign yours in the register. I'll get you a key, then we'll square up with the money. It's a dollar a night.” He reached behind him. “Here you go, mister...” Horace turned the register around. “...Jones. You're  in room #13; here's your key and a lit lamp. You'll need it. I hope your stay turns out better than some of our other guests.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Strange thing...” Horace leaned forward. “A few poor, wayward souls have gone missing. Why, it's as if they were never here at all...” His thin lips curved upwards in the semblance of a smile.

Kid didn't wait to hear anything more. He slapped a dollar down on the counter, grabbed the key and lamp, then hurried up the stairs and found his room. Once inside, he locked the door and took off his jacket. Next he tossed his hat on a chair and removed his gunbelt, hanging it on the bedpost where he could reach it, if needed. Shivering in the cold air, he decided to keep the rest of his clothes on. Removing his boots, Curry crawled under the blankets, then groaned at how hard the bed was before he doused the light.

~*~*~*~*~*

A loud pounding on the door shattered the quiet, alarming Kid. He grabbed his gun, leap out of bed and ran towards the sound in his stockinged feet. “Heyes? Is that you?!” He tried to open the door, but couldn't find the doorknob. It was gone – there was no way to get out!

“Who's there?” he yelled, as the pounding continued. “Whaddya want?” His heart racing, Curry realized the knocking wasn't coming from the door, but from somewhere behind him, inside his room. He slowly turned, cocked his head and took a step forward. “It can't be...?”

But it was. The sound was coming from the bed that he'd just been sleeping in! Kid lit the lamp. The knocking continued. He crept closer, then leaned down to feel the bed with his left hand and jumped back. Something – or someone – was under his bed, doing the knocking!

Taking a deep breath, he looked under the bed, but there wasn't anything there. The knocking hadn't stopped; if anything, it had grown louder. Kid put his holster on so he could have his hands free. He lifted the blanket and sheets to stare down at–

Whatever he'd thought he'd find, Curry realized that he'd been wrong on all counts. Two oblong black coffin-like boxes sat in a hollowed-out section of the bed frame. Both had latches that twisted to unlock them. The knocking sound came from the one on the the left. Kid forced his hand to reach down and twist the latch. The box popped open by itself! He found himself looking down at a quivering skeleton! As the creature from his coffin began to rise, he pointed a bony finger at Curry and cried, “Beware the Manticore!” He threw himself on top of it, forcing it back down inside. Latching it securely, he turned onto his back, breathing hard.

Feeling a great thudding against his back, he rolled off the bed frame to stare at the box with dread. Although he didn't want to see what was in the second box, it was if his left hand had a mind of its own. His arm slowly stretched out until his fingers came in contact with the wood. The vibrations pulsating under his hand, Curry knelt down on the bed frame. He watched as his hand grasped the latch and, even as he fought against it, his disobedient fingers slowly twisted it.

The lid slowly began to open, one loud, groaning creak at a time, setting the Kid's already frayed nerves on edge. He squeezed his eyes shut. Suddenly he began to tremble with a violence that rocked him to his core. An icy chill crept down his back, like an army of spiders blazing a trail. The hairs on the back of his neck and arms stood up.

As the temperature in the room decreased, he dared to peek through his lashes. He exhaled, amazed to see his breath coming out in thick, white cloud-like puffs. In other circumstances Kid might have derived great pleasure at the imagery of being a cloud-breathing dragon, but not now. As his body temperature began to drop, his teeth started to chatter, despite his effort to clamp them down tight.

He dared a sideways glance at the window, startled to see that the glass was covered in a thick blanket of frost. He swallowed the lump of fear caught in his throat as the realization hit him that fingers which had gone numb were still entangled in the latch... dormant... waiting... He squeezed his eyes shut, as if that might somehow make the image go away.

A low, guttural, rumbling growl claimed his attention. It came from the corner of the room behind him. Curry's stomach muscles clenched in fear. He turned his head slightly, forcing his shuttered eyes to half-mast again, daring to look in the direction of the menacing vocalizations by whatever lurked in the shadows. Unfamiliar noises grew louder with each passing minute.

“You said there was nothin' to be scared of, Heyes!” Curry shouted. “Well, guess what? You were wrong!”

As the growls grew louder and more intense, Kid tried to pry his left hand away from the latch, but it wouldn't budge. Using his right hand, he reached for his gun, but came up empty. No holster; no gun. He darted a quick glance at the bedpost. Nothing.

Hearing noises resembling those of large, clawed feet scratching across a wooden floor, Curry's head whipped back to stare into the corner. He could just make out the dim shape of a giant creature, its wings outstretched. The Manticore! He recalled the warning that Heyes had read: By the time you see the color of its eyes, it will be too late – you will not live to tell the tale!

Closing his eyes, Curry steeled himself against whatever was to come. His whole body felt numb. Alone, and at the mercy of the beast, feelings of dread and despair overcame him. His will to fight and to survive had deserted him, too; he couldn't fight the cold or the monsters anymore.

“You told me it wasn't true, Heyes! Where are you? Why'd you leave me to fight the monsters alone?” He took a deep breath and yelled, Heyes!?” The pounding under his hand grew louder, but now it was accompanied by a voice.

“Kid?” Pound, pound, pound... The growling and scratching noises were coming closer. “Kid?” Pound, pound, pound...

Curry wondered which monster would get him first as he opened his eyes to look down at the box. The lid was now open and the voice was coming from it. “No! It can't be!” he cried. “Not you, too, Heyes!”

“Kid!?”

Curry felt a bony hand grab his arm; it shook him forcefully. He tried to pull away, but couldn't. The thing's grip was too strong. He leaned forward, kneeling, trying to double up into a ball. “We're s'posed to watch each other's back!” he cried. “Help – save me from these monsters!” The thing's arm had now reached his shoulder, shaking him so hard his teeth rattled! “They're real, Heyes!”

“No, they're not, Kid – wake up!”

Curry was oblivious to the voice until the hard slap to his face penetrated the fog; he felt it clear down to his toes. His eyes snapped open to find Heyes holding onto him by both shoulders, staring into his eyes with an expression seldom seen on the man's face: fear.

“Heyes?” Curry watched as some of that emotion left his partner's face; heard the deep sigh of relief, and felt the tight grip on his shoulders lessen after Heyes released them to wrap him in a bear hug.

“You really had me worried there, Kid!” He sank down next to his cousin. “Boy, you don't do things halfway, do you?”

“It was all just a dream... wasn't it?”

“No, I wouldn't call what you had a dream, Kid. That was a full-blown nightmare of epic proportions.”

“You're tellin' me!”

Heyes eyed Curry thoughtfully. “You remember any of it?”

“I wish I could say no,” Kid answered quietly. “Pretty sure I'll never be able to forget it.”

“You feel like talking about it?”

Curry shrugged. “That Manticore was there; he pretty much stayed in the shadows, growlin'.”

“You didn't look him in the eyes, did you?” Heyes teased.

“Nope; I remembered what you said.”

“You do listen to me!”

“Not always. I didn't wanna let you outta that box.”

“What box?”

“The one hidden under my sheet.”

Heyes' brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“Guess there was just the boxes.”

“Boxes?”

“Not really boxes... more like coffins. You were next to a skeleton. He tried to escape, but I shoved him back down inside and slammed the lid on him.”

“Uh, huh.” Pause. “So, did I try to get out?”

“Yeah, you kept poundin' on the lid.”

“And you didn't let me out?”

“I didn't know it was you. Only figured that out once you started callin' my name.”

“That was me trying to wake you up; hoping to get you outta that nightmare.”

“Glad you did.” Kid shuddered. “It was really bad in there. Freezin' cold; I could see my breath. My body was numb, the window was all frosted so you couldn't see out. I couldn't've run away even if I'd've wanted to! Couldn't leave the room, neither – there wasn't any doorknob and the window was sealed shut. Then there was that Manticore, the skeleton and you in the coffins...” Curry shook his head. “Oh... and there was music, too.”

“Music?”

“It was a song 'bout a hotel.” Pause. “A hotel somewhere in California.”

Heyes stood, then turned to give Curry a hand up. “You know what? That was one of the craziest dreams anyone has ever shared with me. I think we'll stick with reading something a bit tamer before we go to bed from now on. Maybe something by Mark Twain?”

“You won't get no argument from me!” Kid grinned. “Hey, ain't it 'bout time for breakfast? All that nightmare stuff made me hungry!”

*~*~*~*~*

Research is my favorite part of creating a story!

NOTE: Little did Heyes know, but Mark Twain actually did in fact write a 'spooky' story in 1875 entitled A Ghost Story and appeared in his book, Sketches New and Old. After reading the plot, I have to say, my story seems to have a bit more 'scare factor' than Mr. Twain's.

Here's a short bit of the plot:  The narrator rents a room in New York City, in "a huge old building whose upper stories had been wholly unoccupied for years." He sits by the fire awhile and then goes to bed. He wakes in terror to discover that the bed covers are being slowly pulled toward his feet. After an unnerving tug-of-war with the sheets, he finally hears the footsteps retreat.

Fun Fact: The story is based on the infamous, true-life 19th-century hoax of the Cardiff Giant, in which a "petrified giant" was carved out of stone and buried in the ground for others to "discover." People came in droves to pay money to see the giant. After a failed bid to buy the statue, the legendary promoter P.T. Barnum made a replica of it and claimed it was the original.

Want to learn more? See a photo of the Cardiff Giant? Go to:

https://www.thoughtco.com/closer-look-ghost-story-mark-twain-2990449


*(More notes can be found at the end of the longer version in the overflow section)

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

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HannaHeyes

HannaHeyes


Posts : 601
Join date : 2012-04-22
Age : 48
Location : The Hideout

October 2021 "Nothing to be scared of..." Empty
PostSubject: Re: October 2021 "Nothing to be scared of..."   October 2021 "Nothing to be scared of..." Icon_minitimeSun Oct 31, 2021 7:29 pm

A/N - I finally managed to get a challenge story finished. Been a while.


The crisp, orange tinted Halloween evening gave Sheriff Lom Trevors a slight chill as he headed into his barn to settle the horses for the night. Leaves swirled in the minimal breeze that tickled the ground as a sudden, ear-splitting yell pierced the quiet sending his few roosting chickens into a frenzy. The lawman stomped out of the barn, stopping momentarily at the doors. “HANNIBAL HEYES! GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!”

Heyes was sitting inside with Kid Curry and Lom’s shy, younger sister, Holly Trevors, who had come to visit for a couple of weeks and knew who Lom’s friends really were. At the sound of the screaming, the dark haired ex-outlaw leader looked up, smiled, and ran out the back door into the woods behind the house, snickering the whole time.

Kid watched his cousin flee out the door as he started laughing. “Well, he actually did it.”

Holly looked at the blond, confused and timidly asked, “Wh…Where’s he going? What's so funny, Kid? What’d he do?”

Another yell cut through the air, closer to the house this time. “HEYES! GET OUT HERE NOW!”

The expert schemer was long gone into the forest however.

Curry was still laughing as he finished a piece of pie. “If you want to know, Holly, go look at Lom’s horses. If you don't care, I'm going to have another piece of pie while you do.” He reached over to pull the pie pan over.

Holly smiled at Kid’s laughing and headed outside. She met her brother on the porch. “Lom, what’s wrong?”

The sheriff was too irritated to answer. “HEYES! WHERE IS HE?! GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW YOU DANG OUTLAW!”

Holly, who had always laughed at her brother when he was annoyed, pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. “Was it really that bad?”

Lom glared, knowing she was inwardly chuckling at him. “Get him out here right now, Holly! I know he’s hiding in there somewhere!”

Holly gave her own amused glare right back. “Don’t you yell at me you heathen. He’s long gone.”

“He’s WHAT! Where’d he go?! He is going to clean up what he did and then he’s spending the night in jail!” His eyes searched the vicinity for any sign of the mischievous Hannibal Heyes.

Curry heard the jail comment in the kitchen. ‘No he ain’t goin’ to spend the night in jail neither.’

“Oh, Lom. Be reasonable. It can’t be that horrible. Go sit down and have a piece of pie. I attempted to make your favorite.”

““I am being reasonable! He went too far this time! I knows it’s Halloween but dang it! He can spend it locked up!” Then to address the pie comment, “And you didn’t burn the house down?”

“Shut up you idiot!” At that, she left to go see what was in the barn that had instigated such rage in her stupid brother.

Lom pounded into the house. “WHERE IS HE, KID?! YOU ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW!”

Curry sat calmly still eating pie, only half now left in the pan. “He ain't in the kitchen.”

“WHERE. IS. HE. KID?!”

“I said he ain’t here in the kitchen. Now calm yourself down. I'm tryin’ to eat. This pie is excellent!”

Lom frowned. “He ran out back didn’t he?!” He quickly ran out the back door to search the woods. Even though it had gotten a bit darker, he could still see enough to not need a light.

Kid watched Lom sprint out the door, shrugged, and kept eating.

The sheriff never stopped yelling. “I KNOW YOU’RE OUT HERE, HEYES! MIGHT AS WELL COME OUT!”

Heyes, hidden extremely well, smiled and stifled a laugh. After Lom passed by him, he silently sneaked up behind him. “BOO!”

If the lawman had ever been honest about that, he’d have to admit he almost peed his pants. He screamed loud enough that it was heard inside the house.

“What’s wrong, Lom? There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Holly had returned from the barn with a smile and made herself give the other ex-outlaw leader some reassurance. “Um…don’t worry, Kid. I won’t let Lom take him to jail. I …I think those horses look cute painted as skeletons.”

That’s when they both heard an unmistakable scream from a familiar voice. “You say that now...,” Kid said dryly.*

Lom could STILL be heard yelling as he reached the back door. “.....going to scrub every one of those horses clean you miscreant then I’m throwing you in jail for tonight!”

The door was slung open and the sheriff led Heyes in clutching the chain of the handcuffs he had slapped on him. Ignoring the other two, he led the laughing outlaw through the house, headed for the front door to take him to the barn. “And scaring me like that...I coulda shot you!”

Heyes was still laughing. He had a roguish expression. “You couldn’t have shot me. I got your gun!”

Lom stopped a second to look down at his holster then in Heyes’ belt. More than aggravated now, he snatched his gun from the reprobate’s gun belt. “DANG THIEVING OUTLAW!” He started pulling Heyes toward the door again.

“Calm down, Lom! It’ll wash off!”

“I DON’T CARE!”

After a nervous minute, Holly decided to chime in. “Lom, please don’t make him spend the night in jail. I..I wanted to spend some time with them. They seem fun. We…we were supposed to tell spooky stories and have cider before bed. Don't you remember Heyes planning it? Please just let him go after he cleans them off? They look awful cute and you have to admit, it's a good prank. And I really had my heart set on having a good time for Halloween this year and maybe playing some games and telling some scary stories tonight.”

Kid gave Lom a look. “You don't want to disappoint your little sister, do you?

Heyes was still laughing at everything, including his partner’s attempt to use his guilt trip skills on someone else for a change.

Lom stopped at the front door and looked back. “That is DIRTY. And you both know it! And Heyes, shut up!”

Of course, the older of the outlaw duo refused to do so.

“P…please, Lom?” His sister was giving him a pleading look which he almost always gave in to.

The sheriff sighed, let go of the handcuffs on Heyes’ wrists, turned around, and walked forward to her. “Fine. But he wears those cuffs all night long!” A thumb pointed behind him.

Right after that sentence was finished, Heyes walked by Trevors and laid the cuffs across his shoulder. “There you go, Lom. You could use some new ones.” He then headed into the kitchen to get some pie, if there were any left. His cousin ‘had’ been alone with it for most of the evening.

Sheriff Trevors just hung his head and gave a defeated sigh as he pulled the cuffs from his shoulder.

Curry looked up as his partner sat down at the table. “Maybe you oughta tell Lom sorry for stealin’ his gun and scarin’ the crap out of him so he don’t change his mind and lock you up tomorrow.”

“But it’s Halloween, Kid. He just got tricked. And now I’m having a treat. If there’s any left.”

Kid smirked but pushed the pie pan over.

“There’s just one piece left!”

“Well, then I didn’t eat it all did I?”

Lom and Holly joined them in the kitchen. Heyes looked at Curry as he sarcastically spoke.

“Sorry, Lom for showing you your gun can be stolen right under your nose.”

“Thanks so much, Heyes.” Trevors was just as sarcastic. “I bet you’re REAL sorry…”

Holly looked at the now empty pie pan. She spoke quietly to herself as she pulled another pie from the oven that she’d been keeping warm. ‘Good that I made more that one. Kid can really put the food away.’

As if reading her thoughts, Curry commented, “They were arguing. I was being good so I rewarded myself.”

Heyes looked astonished. “What’re you talking about?! You helped me!”

Curry looked up with a bit of betrayal and a lot of annoyance in his blue eyes. “No I didn’t!” He wasn’t about to admit that he did.

“What?! You helped me find the Indian type paint they put on their war horses! You even helped me paint them!”

“Shut up, Heyes! I did not!”

“Oh yeah?! Look at your hands! Guess you didn’t wash them real good!”

At that, everyone looked down at Curry’s hands, the back of one having evidence of white paint on it.

“Thanks for rattin’ me out! Some partner you are!”

A self satisfied grin appeared on Heyes’ face. “I’m not going down alone.”

“You jerk! Just like when we were little!”

All Kid got in reply was a bigger grin. Then said jerk reached into his pocket. “Here. I got some candy sticks for everybody.” They were laid on the table beside the fresh pie.

Kid’s eyebrows went up. “You did? Thanks.” He grinned himself. “I got us some chocolate and bought you a book by that weird guy Edgar Allen Poe. Thought you could read us some of his stories tonight.”

The sheriff and his sister smiled at the two thoughtful ex-outlaws. “Sometimes, they act civilized,” Lom whispered to Holly who quietly giggled.

Heyes took a piece of chocolate and a piece of pie. “Thanks, Kid! Sounds like a plan.”

October 2021 "Nothing to be scared of..." 941a9b10

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