Thoughts at a Threshold
The youngest and newest member of the Devil's Hole Gang sat facing the forest on a boulder just outside the ring of light from the slow-burning campfire. The just turned twenty-year old drew the most undesirable watch in the dead of night but he wasn't complaining. Sleep normally came easy to Jed Curry but not tonight. Tonight, he had a lot on his mind and the dark solitude was conducive to serious thoughts.
His right hand dropped to the revolver tied to his thigh as he peered into the darkness, wondering if he should go investigate the rustling sounds coming from the right. Deciding the noises were consistent with normal night wildlife he rose to his feet anyway. Restless energy from the hours of waiting and an unsettled mind drove the nascent train robber to prowl the perimeter of the camp.
As his feet traced a circle his thoughts centered around how his life had circled back over the years. Three years ago, he and Heyes had separated over thievin' for a living. Not that he was morally opposed to stealing what was needed, he wasn't, the reality of survival had seen to that but he took no pleasure from the act itself. Food, clothes, or a bit of cash for a roof over their heads when the work dried up and the situation turned desperate was how the stealing began. No, the problems started between them when Heyes started to enjoy the thrills of breaking, entering and leaving with the increasingly easy and bigger pickings. It seemed now that Heyes had been way ahead of him, as usual, in figuring things out.
Curry turned from the surroundings to check the camp. All was as quiet, well, as quiet as ten snoring men, sleeping in the rough, could be. Kid's eyes narrowed as he watched his best friend restlessly toss and turn, hoping he wasn't the cause of Heyes' disturbed sleep. Heyes had not been overly thrilled to see his younger cousin in Harristown several weeks past, broke, and with a budding reputation as a fast gun. Curry remembered, ashamed at the envy that rose up inside of him when he came face to face with his cocky older cousin. Heyes had looked good, sitting there surrounded by his friends, dressed in new comfortable clothes with money in his pockets and a glass of top shelf whiskey in hand. Jed had been acutely aware of his own threadbare and half-starved appearance.
Even with the skillful persuading by his new safe-cracking, intelligent protégé, Big Jim Santana had not been inclined to accept the young man into the gang, calling the blond a wet-behind-the-ears boy. Kid smiled fondly into the dark, remembering Heyes' reflexive defense of his cousin, insisting that Curry was far from naïve about the ways of the world and could more than hold his own among the older men. The young gunslinger rubbed his sparsely whiskered chin, he knew he looked closer to sixteen than twenty, after all he had to continuously prove he was a man and could do a man's back-breaking work.
A distant train whistle echoed in the valley, reminding the youngest gang member of the new career he would start tomorrow. The promise of thrills, adventure, large living, and companionship as a gang member held an undeniable appeal. Kid was tired of always scrounging to exist, scratching a meager living out of dead end jobs, when he could get one that didn't involve selling his gun hand, which never seemed to last. Being the youngest or the newest meant he was always the first to be let go. And, although, he would never admit it, he was lonely on his own. The moral high road wasn't so high if you were slogging through mud and around big immovable boulders that life tumbled your way with no one to share the burden.
Curry checked on the dozing horses, to make sure all was well. They would be running hard tomorrow and maybe longer. He continued walking the perimeter on his surveillance of the surroundings. The crisp autumn breeze rustled the leaves of the cottonwoods and his too long curls. He settled his hat more firmly on his head and peered through the trees at the men.
Heyes had come fully awake, pulled himself up on one elbow, and sleepily scanned the camp for the man on watch. Not immediately finding who he was looking for, Heyes sat up suddenly alert. Jed wouldn't leave without saying good bye, Heyes was sure, no matter how much Heyes had tried to push his younger cousin away. And the Kid would never leave the camp unguarded.
Kid's blue eyes widened as he met the searching brown of his now awake cousin. Their eyes held for several moments. Kid nodded confidently and was grateful for the cloak of night. Heyes was too perceptive and he didn't want his lingering doubts known. He stepped back into the shadows among the trees. Heyes' eyes narrowed as his gaze intensified, trying to read the blond's thoughts, unsuccessfully, before he dropped back down into his bedroll.
Curry read the fleeting flashes of panic, hope, disappointment, concern, and acceptance that passed successively across his best friend's face. Kid knew if he decided to not go through with tomorrow's plans Heyes would square it with Santana and the rest of the gang. What Heyes hadn't realized yet was that Kid Curry would not be able to square the lost opportunity for a shared future, not matter what that may be, with himself.
Tomorrow would be the start of a new period in his life. He would be wanted. There would be no retreating back across the line to law-aiding or even precariously balancing on the line as he had been for the last few years on his own. He would now live and die as an outlaw. Kid Curry would be a member of the Devil's Hole Gang. He would watch his cousin's back, do his best to ensure the safety of the gang members, and live his new life being the best he could for as long as he could.
The Kid knew the odds to live past thirty for someone with a reputation for being as good with a gun as him were long anyway. Adding being wanted didn't seem like such a big step now. He was going to live life to the fullest in the time he had. He was determined to savor the pleasures of his ill-gotten gains, plentiful food, good whiskey, cold beer, and soft beds filled with soft women, the consequences be dammed, no more growling stomachs, empty pockets, and sleeping alone on hard cold ground. His horse was taken care of better than himself. The plan for the start of his new life is going to be thrills, adventure, fun, and living fully in the moment. Curry straighten up to his full height and stepped out from the trees. He surveyed the slumbering gang members, his troubled gaze resting for a long moment on his cousin's form, sleeping tranquilly wrapped in a bedroll and he found a peace with his decision.