THE GIFT

A short story written for a challenge. I chose to use the episode, "The Posse That Wouldn't Quit" as my background.

While staying with the Jordan family, one night after supper is over, Heyes and Kid sing "Simple Gifts" with them and the song gets Kid to thinking...

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They had already said their goodnights to the Jordan family and were on their way to the bunkhouse when, a few steps short of the door, Curry veered off and headed towards the barn.

"You go on ahead inside; I'll be there in a little while."

"Okay," Heyes replied and half-turned to watch his partner until he disappeared. Still lost in thought, he pushed open the bunkhouse door and stepped inside. When thirty minutes had passed and there was still no sign of Curry, the dark-haired outlaw moved away from the window where he had been keeping watch for the past ten minutes, shoved his arms into his jacket, grabbed his hat and walked outside.

A full moon illuminated the yard, allowing Heyes to traverse the distance between the two build- ings without mishap. In the otherwise quiet of the night, his footsteps sounded loud enough to wake the dead as they crunched on the loose rocks. He paused as they died away, then pushed the door open and stood for a moment watching his partner. Seated on a bale of hay with his back to the door, head bent and shoulders hunched over, Curry was so absorbed in what he was doing he failed to notice the man who stood silently behind him.

"You planning on staying out here much longer?"

Although the voice was quiet, Curry shot up from the hay, his hand automatically reaching for his gun. He spun around to find a grinning Heyes leaning against the door, "People shouldn't go 'round sneakin' up on other people 'less'n they wanna get themselves shot full of holes!" he snapped, his blue eyes shooting out sparks of their own as he shoved his gun back into his holster and dropped back down onto the hay.

Heyes' grin grew even broader, "Wasn't sneaking; you were just too busy to listen." He crossed the distance that separated them.

"Maybe," Curry shrugged his shoulders.

Heyes sat down on a bale opposite his partner and watched as the other man's attention was once more captured by what he held in his hands; he also noted the frustration evident on Curry's face. The grin still firmly in place, he held out a hand, "Give it to me."

With a rueful look, Curry sighed, then tossed the object towards his cousin.

"Some things never change, do they?" Heyes chuckled as he caught it easily.

Curry's answer was a lop-sided grin, "Well, I promised the girls that after all the chores were done we'd all go fishin, but unless you can work some miracle on that tangled up mess, its not gonna happen." He watched as Heyes' nimble fingers swiftly began to unravel the knots in the fishing line that had been causing him so much grief.

A few moments of silence filled the barn before the sandy-haired outlaw spoke again, "Do you remember how you always used to make the time pass more quickly by tellin' me some kinda story while you worked."

Heyes never looked up. "Well, tonight I think I'll let you do the storytelling." His statement was met with silence; the sudden tension in the night air was so thick you could have cut it with a butter knife.

"You noticed, huh?" Curry mumbled finally.

"I did." An uneasy quiet filled the barn as Heyes' hands continued to work their magic and he bided his time. The most important part of the waiting game was patience.

Curry plucked some straws of hay loose from the bale and then heaved a deep sigh, "Heyes, do you ever think about 'em?"

With a feeling akin to being blindsided, the words caught his attention. Heyes stopped to look up, "Think about them...who?" he asked, his tone was one of reserved caution as he began to wish he'd never started this conversation.

"Not who - what."

"Okay, them what?" Heyes echoed, a blank look on his face.

"The words."

"The words? What words?" Struggling to hold onto his patience in spite of himself, Heyes realized that repeating everything wasn't helping, but he was at a loss to do anything else at this point.

Curry inhaled, then released the breath slowly. When he began to speak, his voice was pitched low, the words coming forth slowly, as if he was still feeling his way around his thoughts, "That song we sang tonight - the same one we've sang at least a hundred times, ever since we were kids. Have you ever thought about the words, or do you jus' sing 'em?"

Now where in the hell had that come from? Heyes kept his eyes fixed on the fishing line as he stalled for time. He'd noticed his cousin's preoccupation earlier this evening, but Kid had made sure he was never alone long enough for his observant partner to ask any questions.

"Well, that's a pretty interesting question, Kid." Grampa Curry used to look at you and smile. He'd say, 'Our little Jed is like the still waters that run deep,' and I think he knew what he was talking about. When you get to thinking, Kid, all kinds of things happen!

Curry raised his head, "So...do you?" he persisted.

Heyes looked up and met the gaze without blinking, "To be honest, no; for me, I think its more the melody - the tune - that makes me want to sing it. I don't really know that many songs, and even less that I can play on the guitar, so I just sing it because I know it."

Curry nodded absently and then looked down at the ground between his boots.

After a few moments of staring at the top of his cousin's head, Heyes broke the silence, "What about you? I told you my answer; I think I deserve to hear yours."

There was another long stretch of silence, during which Heyes continued to work on the snarls of twisted line. Curry lifted his head, scooted back on the bale of hay and leaned against the boards behind him. "Tonight, spendin' time with the Jordans, while we were singin' that song, I suddenly realized that you an' I - we could have a family like that by now - we should have one, but that's not gonna happen, is it?"

Heyes looked into the pain-filled eyes of his cousin, "Aw, Kid -"

"No, no - let me finish!" Curry waved a hand and cut him short as he stood up.

Heyes closed his mouth and nodded, and then waited for his partner to go on.

Pacing in the confines of the barn, the sandy-haired outlaw continued, "Those words, 'Tis the gift to be simple, an' to be free an' come down where we ought to be...' - we can't ever do that - we're outlaws - wanted men with a price on our heads!" His voice no longer quiet, Curry continued with fervent conviction, " '...an' when we find ourselves in the place jus' right, we'll be turnin' - 'til we come 'round right.' Heyes, we're never gonna find ourselves in any place that's right - we're too busy runnin' an' tryin' to stay outta the hands of the law - sheriffs, posses and bounty hunters. Hell, I'm not even sure we'd recognize what the 'right place' would look like if it jumped out right in front of us wearin' a big sign!" He kicked a rock across the hay-strewn floor in his anger.

"Well now, I wouldn't go quite so far as to say that, Kid," Heyes chuckled, "give us some credit!" But when there was no answering laugh, he realized he was going to have to switch tactics. Without knowing it, the Kid had offered him the opening he'd been waiting for; he seized the opportunity and ran with it.

"I can't think of two more deserving people to find themselves in the 'right place at the right time' than us - you and me. We've both turned around so many times trying to do the right thing that I've lost track, and its like I keep telling you, the odds are bound to be with us at some point."

He crossed to stand in front of his friend, "Listen to me; we're doing the best we can, with what we've got and that's all we can be expected to do. We know, deep down in our hearts, that we're doing the right things now - no matter what others may think. I don't know when or where, but I can promise you, our 'right place' is waiting for us out there somewhere - and no one can ever take that away from us."

Heyes fell silent and waited, almost holding his breath as he watched his partner sift through his words, unraveling what he hoped would be the last and final knot in the Kid's tangled thoughts.

When Curry looked up at last, the troubled look had vanished; in its place was a look of hope.

Heyes grinned, "Hold out your hand."

A curious look on his face, Curry did as he was told. As Heyes dropped the fishing line into his outstretched palm, he looked at it and grinned. It was completely free of tangles; Heyes had taken the time to turn something that most people would have given up on and thrown away into something that could be salvaged, just like he'd had the wisdom and patience to turn a potentially bad situation into one that offered a light at the end of the tunnel.

Offering Heyes a smile of gratitude, Kid realized just how lucky he was to have someone like his cousin as a partner as well as a friend. Just like when they were kids and he'd managed to get his line into a snarled up mess and turned to his older cousin in his frustration. Heyes had once more managed to work his magic on the twisted knots of his problems as well as straighten out the tangled mass of knots of the real fishing line.

While they might sing about "Simple Gifts," as far as Curry was concerned, of all the gifts that Heyes possessed, and unselfishly shared with him, none of them were even close to being considered simple...and that was the real gift!