HEALING THE LEPERS

Money was often scarce and hard to come by. Regular, well-balanced meals, something most people took for granted, often eluded Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry. They had really done only one thing professionally, but robbing banks and trains was no longer an option to them. Since the Governor had promised them amnesty if they led law-abiding lives, they were forced to make attempts at honest labor. Heyes's unique skills at safe-cracking and the Kid's phenomenal fast-draw were of no use in their new world. And although they preferred being together, they often had to separate when only one job became available somewhere.

In New Mexico in 1882, a builder in a mid-sized town hired both of them, as well as a couple other drifters and some men from the town. A church was being constructed and carpenters were needed. Although Heyes and Curry had limited experience, they observed the men around them and had little trouble managing to lend valuable hands to the construction. The builder supplied them with all the materials they needed, as well as modern leather tool belts that held hammers and nails. They were very happy that he also supplied them with a substantial lunch each mid-day, although he did not pay a very high wage. To his surprise, Heyes discovered that he enjoyed the labor, and after a week of various chores and carrying heavy boards, he felt strong and invigorated. Kid Curry, on the other hand, began to feel weak. He experienced pains that he had never felt before, but, true to his character, he kept his complaints to himself so as not to worry his friend.

The church went up quickly, and after a week the builder decided to keep on only two men. Heyes of course lobbied on behalf of the two of them, but his silver tongue did not work. Kid Curry and a local were kept on and Heyes and the rest were given their walking papers.

No other jobs were available in that town. There were only a couple saloons and apparently no one played poker in them. Heyes talked it over with his partner and they jointly decided that it would be in the best interests of the partnership if Heyes moved on to Courtvie, the next town, to attempt to make some money at the poker tables there. He decided to leave in the morning.

In the middle of the night, Heyes was awakened by an unusual noise. He lay perfectly still in his hotel bed to determine what it was. In a moment, he knew. It was the Kid groaning in his sleep!

Heyes lit the lamp and turned it low. He looked over to the other bed and was surprised to see his friend sleeping in the fetal position. Heyes knew instantly that the Kid was in pain. They had been together all their lives and their instincts for each other's feelings were very strong, but sometimes they took each other for granted. Heyes thought back over the last few days and realized that the Kid had often hid his face when they were conversing. Heyes was ashamed of himself for not realizing sooner that something had been wrong. Now he realized he had reason to be concerned.

He pulled the chair close to the Kid's bed and sat down. "Kid?" he said, gently shaking his partner's shoulder. "Kid, wake up."

Kid Curry awakened and immediately stopped groaning. He was surprised to see his partner sitting so close. "What's the matter?" he asked sleepily.

"You are. You were moaning in your sleep. What's wrong?"

The Kid turned away. "Nothing. I wasn't moaning."

Heyes grabbed his friend's shirt collar to turn his face back toward him. "Yeah, you were, Kid. I can see you're in pain and I want to know what's wrong."

The Kid roughly pulled away. "No, I'm not. I was dreaming, is all. Bad dream. Leave me alone." He closed his eyes and pretended to be trying to get back to sleep. Heyes did not move; he sat right where he was and glowered at his friend. After a moment, the Kid opened his eyes and accused Heyes, "Well, are you going to just keep sitting there?"

"Yup!"

"You're too close. I can't even breathe."

"That's your problem, then? You can't breathe?"

Kid Curry pulled the blanket over his head and said, "Just forget it, Heyes. Go away. Why don't you get an early start to Courtvie? You could be there by sunup."

Hannibal Heyes was undeterred. Normally he would have avoided angering his partner for any number of reasons, but he was concerned and believed he had justification for what he was about to do. He yanked the blanket completely off the Kid and observed his reaction.

Kid Curry yelled, "Hey," but what he did with his body was of more interest to Heyes. The Kid immediately turned his back to Heyes and curled up in the fetal position again. His shirt was pulled up to his armpits in the process. He quickly grabbed it and pulled it back down.

Heyes suspected his friend was trying to hide something and reached for the Kid's shirttail to pull it up again, but Kid Curry angrily sat up and deftly avoided Heyes's hand.

"I told you to leave me alone, Heyes. Now go away!"

"What are you hiding, Kid? Why aren't you being honest with me? You've got me concerned."

The Kid pulled the blanket around himself. Noting Heyes's disapproving look, he explained, "It's cold in here."

"No, it's not. What's wrong?"

The Kid sighed. He thought for a moment, and then said "All right, I'll tell you. For the past couple of days I haven't felt too good. Coming down with something. A little weak, got a temperature . . ."

Heyes reached for the Kid's forehead but his partner pulled away. "You can take my word for it. I've got a temperature."

"Then I should be the one building the church, not you."

"Maybe, but I'm the one he kept on, not you. Besides, we both know you're a better poker player than me." The Kid gave Heyes an endearing smile. "I know you're my friend and it's your job to worry, but stop. I'm fine. I want you to go on to Courtvie and make some money for us, and I'll join you as soon as the job here is done. I'll be fine. All right?"

Heyes looked skeptical, but his partner made sense. The furrowed brow that Heyes had noticed earlier had disappeared and a smile had replaced it. He no longer seemed to be in pain, and the idea that he was simply getting a touch of the grippe seemed feasible. Heyes knew the Kid was strong and would most likely be able to fight off any such malady. And Heyes also knew that he himself was a sucker for his friend's charming entreaties. He backed away, figuratively and literally.

"All right," he said. "If you're sure. I'll leave like we planned." Heyes watched his partner carefully for a sign of some kind, but the Kid's genial expression did not change. "And you join me as soon as the job here is done."

"I will."

Heyes walked back to his own bed and crawled in. As he extinguished the lamp, he said, "And don't forget, Kid, I'm only a telegraph away if you need me."

In the dark, Heyes heard, "Thanks." It sounded genuine but fragile.

In the morning Hannibal Heyes got ready to leave, packing all his belongings into his saddlebag. He then yelled for Kid Curry to wake up. "Better get up, Kid. You don't want to be late for your job."

The Kid opened his eyes and sat up immediately, almost as if he hadn't been asleep. Heyes noticed he still had the blanket wrapped around himself. The Kid looked at Heyes with a strange expression on his face and said, "Have a safe trip, Heyes."

"'Course I'll have a safe trip. It's only twelve miles." Heyes walked back over to his friend and asked, "You still have a temperature?" He reached for the Kid's forehead but once again his friend evaded his touch.

"No, no, I'm better. I'm fine. You go on. You don't have to worry about me."

Heyes gave up trying to reach out to his friend. "I'm glad you're better, Kid, but guess what's the one thing I'm likely to do when someone tells me not to worry?"

The Kid sighed. "Worry, I suppose."

"That's right. But not about your health. About the strange way you're acting," Heyes finished with a little laugh. He donned his hat and threw his saddlebags over his shoulder, lingering for a moment to really look at his friend. "See you in a few days, Kid," Heyes said as he left. The Kid nodded.

Then, with deep sadness in his voice, Kid Curry said, "Goodbye, friend," to the closed door.

He sat on the edge of his bed for several minutes before moving. His thoughts traveled through a number of subjects, most of them related to his childhood. When thoughts of the present intruded, he groaned and walked over to the mirror. The image showing back at him was the fine body of a young man. Then he dropped the blanket from his shoulders and pulled up his shirt. A young man with a number of lesions and open sores below his ribcage now could be seen. The sores were ugly and one was bleeding slightly. He touched the bleeding sore and looked at the blood on the tip of his finger. He groaned again and allowed his shirt to drop back into place. Once again the fine body of the young man appeared. The Kid closed his eyes tightly as he worked to control his emotions. In a moment he grabbed his saddlebags and sat back down on his bed.

Jed Curry rummaged through the bag until he found what he wanted. At the very bottom, hidden beneath the few belongings he carried in his bag, beneath the extra change of clothes and box of bullets and other personal belongings, he found what he was looking for. A book. He and Heyes both had a modest number of personal items since it was impossible to carry around more than whatever could fit in a saddlebag. Heyes, he knew, liked reading and carried a couple of favorite books in his bags, along with his clothing. The Kid, on the other hand, was not so fond of reading and carried only one small book.

Bible Stories.

The same book that he had been given when he attended Sunday School as a boy. He and Heyes had both attended every Sunday and Heyes had been given the same book. The Kid did not know what Heyes had done with his book and did not care. He had always carried his with him, everywhere he went. He looked at it very seldom, only when he was sad. Or scared. Or both.

But this time he was not looking in this book for a story to cheer himself. He was looking for information.

The Kid ignored the index and thumbed through the pages. Very familiar names appeared – Bethlehem, Noah, Moses, the Ten Commandments, Pharaoh, the Tower of Babel, several more. These stories were illustrated with pen and ink drawings and there was a different chapter devoted to each story. Kid Curry fondly remembered each and every one of them. Each Sunday the preacher had read a different story and led a discussion about it. The Kid lovingly remembered the classes and actively participating in the discussions. He remembered that Heyes was always excited by the classes, too. For a moment he set down the book and closed his eyes while he allowed the pleasant memories to fill his head. When he picked up the book again, it fell open to a page where he had written his name as a child. The Kid had been very pleased that his name had appeared in the Bible and he had practiced writing it in his book. Jedediah, Jedediah, Jedediah. He smiled at the memory.

But he had not yet accomplished his goal. He continued thumbing through the little book until at last he found the chapter he was looking for.

"Jesus Heals the Lepers."

On his ride to Courtvie, Hannibal Heyes could not shake the nagging feeling that whatever was wrong with his friend was much more serious than he was being led to believe. There were several indications that this was true. For one thing, the number of times the Kid had hid his face while they were having conversations over the last couple days. During those times Heyes had not suspected anything because in fact there was nothing unusual about the Kid's face. But now Heyes wondered what emotion the Kid believed he was hiding.

And there was that conversation they had had in the middle of the night. Kid Curry had been groaning in pain in his sleep. Even if he did deny it, Heyes had heard it. Under stress, he had curled into the fetal position. And he had made sure that his shirt and the blanket had covered his midsection. More hiding. Heyes wondered if this was as innocent as the face-turning. Or was more involved?

Heyes suddenly realized with a shock that he had made several attempts to touch his friend, to feel his temperature, or to grab his face, but the Kid had deftly managed to avoid being touched. Why on earth would he be afraid of being touched? This was the strangest thing of all. Kid Curry was never afraid of anything. As a child, when he had simply been Jed Curry, he had often been afraid. Of the normal monsters of childhood, and of course of the human monsters who had shot and killed both their sets of parents during the Border Wars. After he had become adept with a gun, he became Kid Curry and never seemed to be afraid again. Heyes, two years his elder, had protected him as a child, but their roles had gradually reversed in adulthood. As adults, Heyes had always been astonished at the Kid's unwavering nerve in the face of danger and how he was always ready and willing to protect him.

Now Hannibal Heyes believed he should be doing something to protect Kid Curry. Just like the old days.

But he wasn't sure what. Whatever it was, it was a cinch that he couldn't do it from the next town. Heyes turned his horse around and headed back.

After reading the chapter in the little book entitled "Jesus Heals the Lepers," Kid Curry closed the book gently and laid it in his lap. He closed his eyes and, for the second time that morning and for probably the hundredth time over the last week, he worked hard to control his emotions. He had been successful at doing so all week and he was successful now. Just barely.

In a moment he opened his eyes and began to gather together his belongings, stuffing them into his saddlebags as he always did when he was getting ready to leave a hotel room. When he was almost done, he spied a neckerchief of Heyes's on the floor. Heyes had evidently missed it when he had prepared to leave that morning; possibly he had packed when it was still dark. The Kid picked up the neckerchief and buried his face in it. It smelled like his friend and reminded him intensely of him. The Kid knew he would not be able to accomplish his plan if he was not in full control of his emotions, so he carelessly stuffed it on top of the other belongings in his bag. As he closed the bag, he realized he was unhappy with this decision, so he removed the neckerchief and tied it around his own neck. For the only time that day, he smiled gently. Sadly he whispered, "Sorry, partner. I hope you can forgive me."

A moment later, an outwardly-composed Kid Curry settled up the balance of the cost of their room with the front desk clerk. Spying paper and pen and ink on the desk, he wrote a note, blotted it, and added that to his saddlebags.

He then went to the livery where he readied his horse and paid his livery bill.

His last stop in town was at the church. The church that was almost completely built.

He spoke with the builder for a moment, telling him that he was ill and no longer able to continue working. When the builder handed him his earned wages, he took the money, refusing to shake hands with him. "Thanks," he said, turning his face away and making sure to make no contact with the builder. He laid the tool belt on a pile of lumber.

Then he rode out of town in the opposite direction Heyes had taken. Not the builder, nor the livery man, nor the desk clerk, nor anyone else who might have spotted the Kid that morning could have any idea how deeply despondent he was, for Kid Curry covered his emotions well.

When Hannibal Heyes rode back into town, the first place he stopped was the church. Working hard were the builder and the other hired man, but Kid Curry was nowhere in sight. When the builder spotted Heyes, he walked over to him.

"Glad to see you," said the builder. "You want your job back? I lost my other man this morning."

This was a pleasant surprise! Heyes had left town in search of an income, and had never expected to be hired back simply by returning. "Sure!" he responded. "Let me just stable my horse and I'll be right back. By the way, where is my friend?"

"Thaddeus? He's the man I lost. Thought you knew that. Said he was too sick to work and rode out of town."

Heyes felt his insides sink. That momentary pleasantness disappeared immediately and completely. The Kid had quit his job! And right after Heyes had departed and without telling him! Kid Curry was truly afraid of something!

But Hannibal Heyes gathered his thoughts together quickly. "Which road did he take?"

The builder pointed in the direction the Kid had ridden and said, "'Bout an hour ago."

"Thanks," said Heyes, quickly re-mounting. "Hope I can make it back."

The Kid had plenty of time to kill so he walked his horse. A few miles out of town, he dismounted and simply draped the reins over a shrub instead of tying them. He had found a peaceful field, but the adjacent pond was the real draw for him. He removed his saddlebag from the horse and walked over to a nearby tree with it. The green grass felt good to walk on. He sat down near the tree, leaning against it and shading his face from the sun with his hat. He fished through the bag for the book. As he pulled it out, the note he had written earlier fell out also. He gently folded it and placed it back inside.

He opened the book and decided to read whatever chapter it opened to. Almost as if by prophecy, it opened to "Jesus Heals the Lepers." The Kid sighed. Marking the place with his finger, he closed the book. He had been looking for something encouraging, but he knew that it was many centuries ago that those lepers had been healed, and he could not relate to them now. Their lives had turned out well, but his had not.

But he had made a promise to himself to read whichever page opened, and this was the day to keep promises. He sighed again and began to read.

In a few minutes, he had finished the chapter. He briefly considered reading more, but could not find the strength to do so. He felt as if he were about to cry. He did not want to cry because he believed himself to be strong, but anguish was tearing him apart. He dropped the book and covered his face with his hands for a moment. It worked. He did not break down. He took a deep breath and lovingly picked up the book again. He whispered a small prayer as he stuffed the book loosely inside his jacket.

Kid Curry then walked the short distance to the pond. He knew the grass under his feet was soft and had felt good a little while ago but he could not feel it now. He was focused and could not feel or hear anything, or see anything except the pond in front of him. When he reached it, he knelt on the ground and bowed his head. Again, for what he believed would be the last time, he prayed.

This is the sight that Hannibal Heyes was met with when he rode up. He instantly knew that his friend was unaware of his presence because he had not responded to any sounds Heyes had made. Heyes tied his horse to the same shrub the Kid's horse was near and wondered briefly why the Kid had merely draped the reins loosely. Clearly the horse could have run away if it wanted. Strange. In addition, the Kid's gun and holster were lying nearby. Also strange.

There was something very different about Jed Curry. He was kneeling at the edge of a pond, apparently praying, and he had never been a particularly religious man. But it seemed there was more to it than that. Heyes was confused and deeply concerned.

"Kid!" Heyes called just loud enough to be heard by his friend who was only a few yards away. The Kid jerked his head up. His concentration had been broken and he was unsure of his bearings at first. When Heyes called again, he turned to see him and jumped up quickly. Kid Curry simply stood there, unsure what was expected of him but confused after having been interrupted.

Trying to adopt a flippant sarcastic tone, Heyes said, "You told your employer you were too sick to work. But here you are playing hooky!" But Heyes knew he had been unsuccessful; the only tone he was able to manage was empathetic.

Kid Curry did not reply. He resembled a cornered rabbit as he looked around, presumably for a method of escape.

Heyes now had what he considered proof that there was something very wrong with Kid Curry. He began walking in his direction as he said, "Kid, listen, I'm worried about . . ."

But the Kid held up his hand to stop Heyes. He would have drawn his gun if he had not left his gunbelt lying on his saddlebag by the tree. "Don't come any further!" he said emphatically.

Heyes was astonished. This person in front of him was absolutely not acting like the friend he'd known all his life. "Why not? Please, Kid, tell me what's wrong!" He continued advancing.

"No . . ." whispered the Kid. Still facing Heyes, he dropped to his knees and hung his head. He wanted to say more, to explain everything to his friend, to tell his friend how much he had meant to him, to tell him not to be angry . . . but he knew if he tried to speak he would not be able to keep from crying. He managed only to hold out his hand again to stop Heyes.

Undeterred, Heyes continued advancing. He weighed in his mind the odds of being successful if the two of them were to engage in a physical fight. He knew that under normal circumstances they were fairly evenly matched, but his friend seemed to be suffering greatly and this would sap his strength. Heyes did not want to hurt him any more than he was already hurting, but he did not know how else to get answers. He was fairly close to the Kid when he said, "Kid, please let me help . . ."

The nearness of his voice surprised the Kid so much that he toppled over. The little book fell out of his jacket. Heyes recognized it instantly and was surprised by it, but to Heyes's utter astonishment, he watched his friend crawl away, saying "No, no no!" the whole time. Heyes continued advancing. They were at the edge of the pond.

Kid Curry made one last effort to escape by throwing himself into the pond. It was shallow and Heyes easily reached him and pulled him out.

Kid Curry lay panting at the water's edge. He wailed, "Now you've done it! God, Heyes, please forgive me!"

Nothing that his friend had said or done lately had made sense, so Heyes kept his head. "What have I done, Kid? What should I forgive you for?"

When he looked up, Heyes noticed tears in the Kid's eyes. "You touched me! I told you not to! I begged you not to touch me! God, please forgive me!"

"I'm sure He does, Kid, and He probably knows what's going on, too, but I'm confused! Of course I touched you. And nothing happened that I know of except I just saved your life!"

"No, no, no! You shouldn't have touched me, Heyes! I've got leprosy!" Now the Kid began to wail. "God, I never wanted you to get this! You touched me; now you've got it too!"

Heyes had been fairly certain that anything further the Kid could say or do would not surprise him. But he was wrong. Leprosy?! Where on earth did he get that idea? Heyes began laughing. "Of course you don't have leprosy, Kid! No one has leprosy anymore!"

"Oh, God . . ." moaned the Kid. "Look!" And he pulled up his shirt to reveal the sores and welts. They had actually subsided from the last time he'd looked but in his mind they were enormous.

"Those sores? That's why you think you have leprosy? Kid, look!" Heyes pulled up his own shirt to reveal a few red sores in the same area around his midsection where the Kid had them. Heyes's wounds were much smaller and less intense than his friend's but they were unquestionably from the same cause.

Kid Curry was dumbstruck. He stared at his friend's midsection, then up at his face, then back to his midsection again. "I . . . don't understand," he whispered.

"These are just sores from those stupid toolbelts, Kid. We've all got them, all the men who worked on the church."

"Toolbelts?" The Kid was lost.

"Sure! The builder had a bunch of them made up by the local saddlemaker, and he stained them a different color to make sure he didn't use the wrong leather for his saddles. Whatever he used for the stain is powerful stuff. We all had an allergic reaction to the belts, that's all it is! You, me, all the carpenters."

"I don't . . ." The Kid didn't finish his sentence. Heyes watched his friend's face as he waited patiently. Clearly the Kid was trying to digest the information. Then . . .

"I don't have leprosy!" he yelled as he jumped up. Kid Curry ran around aimlessly, laughing hysterically and hugging the tree and the shrubs and everything in sight. Heyes laughed right along with him. The Kid grabbed Heyes by the shoulders and yelled, "I don't have leprosy!"

"You don't have leprosy!" Heyes yelled right back at him. This manic mood of theirs continued for a moment, but Heyes snapped out of it first. Leaving the Kid to whoop it up on his own, he walked over to the gunbelt and looped it over his shoulder. Then he spied the little book of Bible stories and picked that up as well. It fell open to the chapter "Jesus Heals the Lepers."

"No wonder," Heyes whispered to himself. Watching the Kid closely, Heyes held the book up in the air.

In a moment, the Kid's excited mood began to die down. When he spied the book, it crashed completely.

"This is what made you think of leprosy, isn't it?" Heyes asked, knowing the answer.

Kid Curry sighed. "When I saw the sores, I remembered what the preacher told us years ago when he talked about the lepers. He said that leprosy started out just this way. And then it got worse and worse, and then their limbs fell off and . . . and they went blind . . ." He couldn't go on.

"You know he was just embellishing those stories in the name of religion, right?"

The Kid did not know what to say, but Heyes saw he was clearly interested, so he continued. "There were a lot of diseases in those days, Kid. People died young. Nowadays there are a lot of cures for things like that. Nobody gets leprosy any more. A lot of things – smallpox, for example – these things just aren't a problem anymore. Don't worry about it, Kid – you're fine."

Tears of relief appeared in the Kid's eyes before he lowered them. "I really thought . . ." he whispered.

"Kid, why are you here? Why did you run away?"

Kid Curry looked up. How could he possibly explain? All he was able to say was, "If you knew about it, you'd want to help. I know you, Heyes, you're golden. You'd stay by my side, through the whole ugly business . . . until the end. I didn't want you to have to see that." He took a deep breath before continuing. "And I knew you'd find me, so I'd . . . have to . . ." He hung his head.

Heyes looked off toward the pond. "Oh, no, Kid! Not that!" The implication of what his friend had just said hit Heyes hard. For once in his life, he couldn't think of the right thing to say. Strong reactions of sympathy and love overpowered him. He knew the Kid was right. Yes, if it had actually been leprosy, he truly would have stayed with him, watching him wither away in pain until the end. And the Kid thought he would spare him that! Heyes was overcome. He walked over to Kid Curry and hugged him, pressing his friend's head into his own shoulder. The Kid held him tightly. When Heyes felt him slightly shaking, it seemed reasonable to assume he was laughing softly. But the Kid was quietly crying. "You're crazy, you know that?" Heyes whispered softly, with tears in his eyes, too.

In a few minutes, Heyes patted the Kid on the back and let him go. "Let's get out of here," he said gently. The Kid nodded and wiped his eyes. Heyes grabbed his friend's saddlebags and placed them and the holster on the Kid's horse. He was going to replace the little book back into the bag when an idea occurred to him. He thumbed through the book until he came to the chapter entitled "God's Free Gift." Hannibal Heyes was a fast reader and he quickly skimmed the chapter, finding phrases like "God is a just God," and "God is merciful" and "Heaven is a free gift." He smiled as he thought back to the days when the two of them listened to the Sunday School teacher say those very words. He continued looking.

Standing alone gazinhg at the pond, the Kid knew he should be appalled at what he had almost done, but what he felt most was relief. And gratitude toward Heyes for intervening in time. One minute he had leprosy, the next minute he didn't. Did this make Heyes a savior? The chapter in the little book was entitled "Jesus Heals the Lepers." Kid Curry turned around to face his friend. "I'm sorry, Heyes," he said softly. "Thanks for coming to check on me."

Without looking up, Heyes said, "Don't ever say you're sorry, Kid, unless you really have something to be sor . . ." Suddenly Heyes stopped talking. He had finally run across what he was looking for.

"Listen to this, Kid," he said. "Remember this from Psalm? 'My comfort in my suffering is this: your promise preserves my life.' He's talking about you here, and life earthly and eternal. And then another from Peter: 'Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.' This stuff is all in this chapter, Kid. It's all in here . . ." Heyes suddenly lowered the book and looked at his friend. "But you knew that, didn't you?" he asked softly.

By way of answer, Kid Curry walked over to his horse and removed the note he had written earlier and stuffed in his saddlebag. "I wrote this for you to find," he said, handing it to Heyes.

Heyes looked at his friend for a long moment before slowly unfolding the note and reading it. He read it, word for word, out loud.

"'My friend . . . I believe in God and I know He doesn't like suffering because he suffered for us. That's why I had to do this. For you. I know you'll hurt but you'll hurt less because I did this. But when you hurt remember that I went to a better place, and we can see each other again someday. I hope you can forgive me.'" It was signed 'Thaddeus Jones.'

Very solemnly Heyes stared at the Kid and slowly handed the note back to him.

"Do you? Forgive me?" the Kid ventured.

Unable to speak, Heyes merely nodded yes.

"Then let's live, Heyes!" the Kid shouted. He tore the note up, handed half the pieces to Heyes and threw his pieces in the air. The somber mood was broken! Heyes did likewise and the two of them whooped and hollered for a full minute before coming back to earth.

They had to spend a few minutes rounding up the horses they had startled with their sudden elation. But that didn't matter to them. They had all the time in the world. Because Jesus heals lepers.

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