Kid Curry's strong reaction to a bear attack has Heyes worried; he seems unable to provide solace.
THE BEAR
by Goldie
Less than a minute passed between the alarming sounds Hannibal Heyes heard and his anxious arrival at the source. When he first heard them, he wasn't sure what to expect. He recognized the frightened whinny of Kid Curry's horse immediately, and he was fairly certain he heard the roar of a bear, but he didn't understand what that third sound was at first.
It was less than a minute, only a few seconds actually, because Heyes was concerned and hurried his nervous horse along. The woods on either side of the path were fairly thick at that point and hid from his sight what he fervently hoped he would not encounter. By the time he was close, the sounds had dissipated. The only thing he heard was the sound of horse's hooves moving quickly away, so he dismounted his own animal and quickly reined it to a nearby tree. His belief that he had heard a bear was strengthened by the nervousness he sensed in his mount. On foot, he moved forward on the path, studying the ground for prints.
And he saw what he hoped he would not see – bear tracks crossing the trail.
Dread was now the emotion that gripped him. He pulled out his gun and removed the safety, keeping it aimed at the unknown in front of him. Heyes had a healthy fear of bears that would normally have found him riding in the opposite direction. But he still wasn't sure what that third sound had been. And if he was right about what he thought it was, he knew he had better keep moving toward its source.
In a few seconds he came upon the last thing on earth he wanted to see. His partner Kid Curry was lying face down on the ground, motionless and with a ripped jacket exposing his torn bloody skin underneath.
Heyes forced himself not to react and froze in order to listen to the sounds of the woods. A rustle of bushes caused him to turn to his left. He caught a quick glimpse of the bear itself, departing the scene. It had attacked its victim and was in the process of running off. Heyes considered shooting it, but decided that the attention his friend needed was much more immediate. Besides, he only got a quick look at the bear and knew a badly-placed shot might encourage it to attack again.
When he could no longer hear the bear moving through the brush, he quickly holstered his gun and knelt down beside his partner. He knew for certain now what that third sound had been – his partner's cry of surprise or pain. Drawing aside the torn clothing, he examined the Kid's back and saw ugly deep gashes placed there by the bear's claws. The wound was large and debilitating, but Heyes knew it was not life-threatening.
"Kid," he said softly, gently turning his partner on his side. He was rewarded with a groan. "Good," he breathed to himself. "Kid," again. "It's OK. The bear's gone. It's me." He gently patted his friend's face.
This was apparently the touch Kid Curry needed. He opened his eyes cautiously and tried to focus in on his partner. He groaned again, closing his eyes and turning his head away.
"Don't try to talk, Kid. I can see what happened here. Lie still while I get my horse." Glancing quickly around, Heyes rose and loped back to his mount, returning to his partner in less than a minute and securing his still-skittish horse nearby. He grabbed his canteen and a couple of items from his saddlebag and knelt back down beside the Kid, who had managed to bring himself up to his knees. The jacket was torn cleanly in two and easily removed. The shirt was torn open and Heyes finished tearing it off the Kid's back. He examined the wound and saw no bite marks – only the searing gashes from the bear's claws. Using one of his own shirts, he cleaned the wound with water, lamenting the groans of pain his friend tried unsuccessfully to hide.
The Kid's eyes were tightly closed and he struggled slightly, perhaps not understanding what was happening. Heyes tried to placate his friend. "I've got to stop the bleeding here, Kid. Sorry. Got to be done." As he tied another shirt around the Kid's midsection, he grieved over the hurt he was causing his cherished friend. He helped the Kid to his feet and noted the paleness of his skin and expression of pain on his face. Placing the Kid's left foot in the stirrup, he then pushed him up into the saddle and mounted up behind him. From there he could see that the wound was still bleeding. Since his friend was not strong, he held on to him the entire ride back to the town they had just left.
On the way, he heard the Kid say softly, "Heyes . . ."
"I know," Heyes replied gently. "I know."
But in reality Heyes did not know. Over the next few days while the Kid was healing, Heyes was astonished at the barely-supressed anger that he heard from his partner. The Kid kept bringing up the subject of the bear and didn't seem to get tired of talking about it. There were a lot of emotions obvious in his speech, none of them positive, and Heyes began to note a disturbing trend. Heyes mainly paid attention and responded very little, partly because he was trying to understand the deepest feelings that were driving the Kid to dwell on a subject that was so obviously painful to him, and partly because Heyes had run out of things to say. The Kid was belaboring the subject of the bear. He seemed to have little interest in anything else going on around him. Why?
The Kid's back wounds were painful but not life-threatening, and they were healing nicely. He discovered that sleeping on his stomach was quite comfortable. His horse had found its way back to town and been returned to him. And Heyes attended to the Kid's every need, including of course listening to him rant about the bear attack. Over and over. If things were going that well for the Kid, why did he feel the need to continue complaining? What subliminal need did the Kid have that would not allow him to heal emotionally? He was perfectly safe from the bear in the town, yet he chose to re-live the attack over and over. Heyes was mystified.
And simply asking did no good. The Kid refused to recognize that he was dwelling on the subject, and each time Heyes changed it, he changed it back.
Finally Heyes had had enough. In a tone of voice completely contradictory to the compassionate one he had solely used since the attack, Heyes suddenly lashed out at his partner. "Kid, what exactly do you want from me?" he practically yelled.
The Kid was unaffected. He hesitated for a second, then yelled back. "I want that bear dead, Heyes!"
This surprised Heyes. Kid Curry was never one to hold a grudge, not against people, and most certainly not against an animal acting on instinct. "Kid, that's crazy! You must know that's . . ." Heyes lowered his voice. " . . . crazy."
But an attack on Heyes was a symbolic attack on the bear. The Kid continued yelling. "No, it's not, dammit! It's got to be done. That bear damn near killed me, Heyes! Don't you care about that?"
"Of course I care, but it's over with. And it's not going to happen again. Everyone in town says no bear has ever attacked anyone around here. It's just a fluke thing, Kid. Maybe you were riding too close and you surprised it and it saw you as danger . . ."
"I told you that's not what happened! My horse didn't even sense that it was there, and all of a sudden it came out of nowhere. To attack me!"
"I know what you . . ."
"You don't know what that feels like, Heyes!"
"You've told me . . ."
"That thing came after me! When my horse threw me and ran off, the bear came after me, not the horse! Why did it attack me? I wasn't threatening it. I never even got a chance to draw my gun!"
Heyes sighed. "Kid, I just don't know. Why can't you accept that you're going to be all right? What difference does it make, anyway?"
"That bear has got to die."
"No, it doesn't, Kid. All it did was scrape you once. It could have killed you . . ." Here Heyes realized the implication of this statement and shuddered before continuing. " . . . but it just gave you a warning, that's all. Some kind of warning. Then it ran away."
"I wasn't threatening it, Heyes. But it clawed me. Why? What did I do to deserve that? You tell me! Why me?!"
Heyes sighed again. "I told you, Kid, I don't know. What possible difference can it make? Let it go. You're getting upset over nothing. And you're making life hell for both of us."
"Why me?" the Kid asked again. "What did I do?" Finally he seemed to calm down. In a minute, he said again, more softly this time, "That bear has to die." Then he lapsed into silence.
It was one of the few quiet moments the Kid had allowed in the last few days. He sat on the bed in their hotel room, apparently thinking. Heyes took advantage of the silence and pulled the chair up to the window, staring out at nothing while he allowed his thoughts to wander. They were on the second floor, and Heyes could see distant storm clouds. He watched them idly as they moved in toward town. The Kid was mercifully silent, obviously brooding. Heyes was hoping that some brilliant plan to discourage his friend's mood would occur to him, but none did. Heyes knew that the Kid, once he was physically healed, would take up arms against his enemy, the bear, and would not stop pursuing until he had killed it. Or vice versa. Heyes was unhappily aware that this kind of mood was new to the Kid, and he did not understand it. He wanted his old friend back. This sudden thought was sadly overpowering. Without realizing he was doing it, Heyes sighed "Oh, Kid, no" out loud.
"What?" asked the Kid brusquely.
It took Heyes a second to realize that he had spoken his innermost thoughts aloud. He searched his soul for confirmation. Still looking out the window, he said, "Kid, remember how you felt when you lost your folks?"
The Kid looked up. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Remember how it hurt? It hurts to lose someone you're close to."
The Kid looked at Heyes, then down at the floor. His voice tone changed. "Yeah," he said softly. "Yeah, it does."
Heyes hesitated a moment, then, "I've lost an old friend."
The Kid looked up. "Oh? Who?"
"You, Kid," Heyes said softly. "You."
It rained for over a day. The storm was fierce and there was much lightning. The mood in their hotel room was gloomy and introspective. Heyes had promised the doctor he would take care of the Kid, but found himself uninterested in doing much for him other than the basics. The bandages had to be changed regularly, of course, and meals had to be fetched from the restaurant and brought to the room, but Heyes found himself wanting to spend more and more time away from the Kid. Rain and lightning notwithstanding, Heyes passed the time at the saloons or sitting in a rocker on the hotel porch, watching the storm. But the gloom seemed to follow him wherever he went, which frustrated him. Heyes was not basically an angry person, and the Kid's constant wrath was disagreeable to him. Each time he returned to the room, he was met with an angry tirade from his friend, and it was beginning to wear him down. On the evening of the next day, he announced that he was going out to fetch supper, but did not return until late. As always, Kid Curry was in a sour mood when he returned, but this time the anger was directed at Heyes for being late. Amid the Kid's tirade, Heyes set the meal on the dresser and then lay down on his own bed, covering his ears with the pillow. He had not looked at the Kid, even once.
The next morning, after shaving and then fetching breakfast for the Kid, Heyes announced that he was going for a ride.
"I'm going with you," declared the Kid.
This surprised and disappointed Heyes. The whole purpose of the ride had been to get away from his friend's constant anger. "You can't, Kid," said Heyes. "Doc said you have to rest at least a couple more days."
"I'm going with you," the Kid insisted. Angrily, of course, and loudly.
Heyes sighed. He did not want to argue with the Kid. Resigned to the inevitable, he made a conscious decision to switch his focus from desertion back to nurturing. The ride, he knew, would be painful for the Kid. He did not want this for his friend, in spite of the fact that the Kid had been disagreeable the last few days. Perhaps a short respite from the hotel room would be just what the Kid needed – some fresh air, concentration on something besides his own anger, interest in the scenery. This might actually be just what . . .
"Let's GO, Heyes!" yelled the Kid.
Heyes sighed.
"North," directed the Kid. After they retrieved their horses from the stable, Heyes had turned to the south.
"Why would you want to go north?" asked Heyes in surprise. "That's where the attack happened. Maybe the bear is still there!"
"That's why," said the Kid matter-of-factly.
"Kid, that's crazy!" Heyes made a grab for the reins on the Kid's horse. But Kid Curry was too nimble for him and turned his horse's head north, kicking it into a canter.
"Kid, don't!"
"Stay here if you want," the Kid yelled back at Heyes. "But I'm going to find that damn bear."
Heyes swore under his breath and hurried after his partner. Kid Curry's anger was persistent and unprecedented, and his partner knew no persuasive argument that could deflect it. Heyes knew his own resentment was beginning to surface, but he was smart enough to figure out that the Kid's unwillingness to be sensible was a temporary state; it would not do for both of them to lose all reasonability. Heyes dutifully allowed his horse to follow the Kid's along the path into the woods. A few miles out of town, all the way to the location on the path where the attack had occurred.
Which is exactly where the Kid reined up his horse!
Heyes was disappointed and frustrated, but nonetheless fascinated by his partner's stubborn focus. Since the attack, Kid Curry seemed to have only a one track mind. After his many hours of trying, Heyes had to admit defeat – he was completely unable to break through his friend's anger to interject logic. Nothing he had said or done had affected the Kid's attitude. Heyes longed to be with the friend he had once known but this person had turned into someone Heyes did not recognize and could not understand. Heyes was angry with the bear also, but he knew it made more sense to forget it and move on, which he had done. But the Kid was immovable – trapped in his own wrath and unresponsive to everything, including the affectionate attitude Heyes always displayed toward him. What Heyes did not know was that the Kid was not immune to this warmth but preferred to concentrate only on his own emotion.
And this was not like the Kid, either. Revenge seemed to be what he craved, but there were just too many reasons why this made no sense. Reason number one: Kid Curry had never been a vengeful person. Another reason: stalking a bear was dangerous business. Heyes was mystified.
While the Kid checked the path for bear prints, Heyes decided that checking his guns was the smartest thing he could do. His handgun was always in good shape, so Heyes pulled his rifle from its scabbard, and looked to see that it was loaded and available for firing at a moment's notice. He asked the Kid if he had bothered to check his own rifle, but got no response. Kid Curry had discovered fresh bear prints and was following them on foot. His focus was on the ground and he was impervious to all else. He tied his horse's reins to a tree and left the path on foot, heading into the woods. Heyes knew this was a very dangerous thing to do but also realized that the Kid would not respond to any entreaties he might present. Sighing, Heyes dismounted and secured his mount's reins also. Before leaving the path, he patted his horse gently on the nose; it reacted strongly by throwing its head in the air and snorting. This was an equine response to danger. Heyes pulled the rifle from the scabbard, set his jaw, and headed into the woods after his friend.
He caught up with the Kid quickly. The Kid was checking his handgun to make sure it was fully loaded. This was an odd thing for the Kid to do as he always kept his gun in top shape. In addition, he had abandoned his rifle back on his horse. Once again Heyes was mystified at his partner's inexplicable actions. "I don't know what you're hoping to gain here, Kid," said Heyes, "but our horses are spooked and it might be best if we . . . "
"No." The Kid did not re-holster. Keeping his gun leveled, he proceeded to follow the prints. He looked straight ahead more than he looked at the ground. At one point Heyes had to point out to him that he had strayed from the prints. The Kid grunted in response and corrected his course. Heyes followed gingerly behind him, fervently hoping they would not encounter the bear. After all, this animal had already proven to be dangerous and Heyes's respect for bears was strong and healthy. He marveled that his partner did not appear to feel the same.
Although lost in thought over his partner's inexplicable behavior, Heyes was attentive enough to realize that a few yards off to the right was another set of prints. Aware that the Kid had not noticed them and giving him a concerned glance, Heyes abandoned his partner's course and headed over to the other prints. It took him a moment of scrutiny to understand that these were bear prints, also. It was confusing to him because there were several sets. Setting the rifle on the ground, Heyes kneeled down to check them closer. He determined that they were fresh and they were heading in the same direction as the set the Kid was following. But Heyes's prints were from two bears, not one!
Heyes's first reaction was alarm, but he calmed immediately as he realized that the size of the bear prints indicated that these were merely cubs, not full-grown animals. They were moving in the same general direction as the other bear, but there were many more prints - heading off short distances, returning, running in circles, jumping over each other. Heyes smiled as he imagined the two bear cubs playing while they attempted to keep up with their mother.
"Kid!" he yelled. "Now I know why the bear attacked!" But there was no answer.
Lately Kid Curry had not bothered responding to much that Heyes said or did, but Heyes began to panic when he realized that he could no longer hear his partner moving through the brush. "Kid!" he yelled again, starting to quickly follow his partner's prints. "Kid! Leave it alone! It's got two cubs!" But there was still no answer.
Heyes moved as quickly as he could, having little trouble following the Kid's and the adult bear's prints. "Stop, Kid! Give it up! It's got cubs!" Heyes was all too aware that a mother bear would be very forceful in the protection of its cubs and he felt that the Kid might just be walking into a situation more dangerous than he could handle. "Kid!" Anxiety caused him to keep the fastest pace possible. He was concentrating so hard that a few yards further on he ran right into his partner!
"What's the matter with you, Heyes? Keep your voice down!" the Kid whispered furiously. "You trying to scare it off?!" The Kid pushed him back.
"I'm trying to save your life! It will turn on you! It's got cubs – it will protect them!" Heyes grabbed his partner's arm and attempted to turn him around, but the Kid pushed him away again. "No, Kid, let's get out of here!"
"You think I don't know about the cubs? If you want to leave, then go! In fact, I insist!"
Heyes was thoroughly confused. "What? What's the matter with you? Are you crazy or something? This is a mother bear we're talking about! It kills to protect its own!"
The Kid suddenly turned his body in the direction he had been heading. Heyes knew him well enough to know that the Kid was trying to focus in on something he heard up ahead. Heyes did the same. And they both heard it – the sound of the brush being trampled as some heavy object moved quickly through it.
The bear was coming, and they both knew it.
"Let's GO!" Heyes grabbed his friend's arm, but the Kid shook him off.
"It's too late," said the Kid quietly.
"No, Kid, now . . ." But Heyes never finished his sentence. He watched in utter astonishment as the Kid unbuckled his gunbelt and set it on the ground, gun intact. Then the Kid stepped back and continued to watch the direction from which the sounds emanated. The sound of brush being trampled was now accompanied by the roars an angry bear makes.
Wildly, Heyes looked from the brush to his partner. The Kid was standing quietly, clearly awaiting his fate. He was tense and sweating but there was a detached sort of calmness about him that Heyes had never seen before. Heyes was frantic. He reached for his rifle but realized in abject horror that he had forgotten to pick it up when he came running after the Kid. The only thing readily available to protect the two of them was Heyes's handgun. Frantically, Heyes aimed his gun at the sounds as he crouched down to make the smallest possible target. He was a few yards behind the Kid and made sure to be off to the side, so the Kid would not get hit by his bullets.
They waited, one of them desperate with fear and the other seemingly oblivious. Many, many thoughts went through Hannibal Heyes's mind as they both waited for the bear to appear, including wondering why his partner was figuratively giving up. Why had the kid insisted on coming here? Why had the Kid not listened to reason at all in the last few days? And did any of this matter now?
The sounds were getting closer, very close in fact. Heyes stole a quick glance at his partner. The Kid was standing woodenly, stoic even. Seemingly resigned to his fate. How could this be? His gun was at his feet but it was clear the Kid had no interest in picking it up. Heyes felt his own gun hand shaking. He grabbed his pistol with both hands to steady himself and aimed it at the woods where the sounds were emanating from. He knew he was holding his breath. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion and extremely fast, all at the same time. Heyes knew his gun was the only thing that gave the two of them a chance. And a handgun against an angry bear was not much of a weapon. He froze and waited an interminable amount of time.
Seconds, actually. Almost immediately, the bear crashed through into the clearing. It raised up to its full height on its hind legs, roaring as it did so. It was more than a formidable opponent; it was a killer.
Heyes tried to make his mind a blank. He concentrated on the number of bullets in his gun – six – and promised himself he would count as he fired. It was the only thing that could save them, he knew. He stared hard at the bear's eyes, intentionally avoiding glancing at his partner. The bear . . . the bear . . . It was still on its hind legs. Roaring. When it landed back down on all fours, Heyes knew his moment had come. He aimed for its enormous head, knowing, even in his agitated state, that he would not miss. But as he began squeezing the trigger . . .
. . . something stopped him.
"No," he heard the Kid say quietly. "Don't shoot."
His partner's request registered with him and he reacted without thought, holding his position. Hazarding a very quick look at his partner, he verified that the Kid had in fact asked him to hold his fire. Heyes didn't care to know why. He awaited further instructions from the friend whose life he was trying to save. He continued to crouch and point his gun, and in his mind he counted 'six' over and over. He was aware that his hands had stopped shaking, so he removed one hand from the gun. He vigilantly watched the bear's eyes for a signal. Heyes was ready to react in a split second.
But remarkably the bear had calmed down. It retained its position, several yards in front of them. It waved its enormous head to and fro, looking from one to the other of them, soon choosing the Kid as its point of concentration. But it was calm. Kid Curry had not moved but now he held up his gloved hand to signal Heyes not to fire. The bear jerked its head up in reaction to the movement, so the Kid lowered his hand to his side again. The bear then seemed to relax.
The bear was relaxing! This was finally the point at which Heyes began to think again. A barrage of thoughts flooded his head all at once, almost overwhelming him. He worked at concentrating on the situation at hand. He was aware that somehow the bear and Kid Curry were communicating. Both were silent and both were staring at each other. Heyes could tell that the Kid was not looking directly into the bear's eyes, as this would certainly incite the wild animal. The bear maintained its position and was scrutinizing the Kid. Neither made a sound. Heyes was frightened but absolutely enthralled with what he was witnessing. The bear did not advance; it continued to study the Kid, occasionally casting a warning glance in Heyes's direction. Neither man moved.
Shortly the sound of something tramping through the brush caught everyone's ears. Heyes felt his panicked state begin anew as he imagined that another huge bear was heading for them. The Kid did not move. The bear itself showed interest by turning in the direction of the sounds. In a moment, the two bear cubs made an appearance. Spying the two men, they cowered behind their gigantic mother.
Once again Heyes used two hands to steady his pistol. His worst nightmare was coming true! He knew all too well what a female bear was capable of with its cubs nearby. To trick his nerves, Heyes kept telling himself to count the bullets when he fired – six, six, six. He kept his eyes on the adult bear and did not cast a glance in his partner's direction. The Kid also continued to watch the bear.
The mother bear nudged her cubs with her head and with her paw, herding them back toward the woods. They willingly obeyed her. She turned her huge body in their direction and followed them. Just before disappearing into the thick brush, she turned back and looked at the two men, prolonging her gaze at the Kid. She then appeared to lose interest in them and disappeared into the woods.
Heyes tensely continued to watch for a moment, then suddenly gasped when he realized he was forgetting to breathe. Lowering his gun, he said, "What just happened here?"
Kid Curry did not answer. With the withdrawal of the bear, the Kid's shoulders sagged. He stood limply in the same spot, staring at the place where the bears had disappeared into the woods. He almost seemed to be in a trance. After a moment, he whispered, "I don't know. I swear, Heyes, I just don't . . . "
Heyes ventured a look at his partner. He was surprised that he did not see tension; in fact, the Kid was wearing a small smile. Heyes holstered his gun and walked over to his friend. "Kid," he hazarded, "did you somehow communicate with that animal?"
"Yeah," answered the Kid softly. "I think I did."
The ride back to town was more silent than Heyes would have wished. After his days spent deflecting arguments and finding little peace, Heyes should have been grateful for the tranquility. But his brain was very active and he would have appreciated knowing what was going through his friend's mind. After a couple of attempts to get the Kid to talk about what had happened, he abandoned the effort, instinctively knowing he would not be successful. The truth is, he found the Kid's new attitude of acceptance refreshing. It was pleasing to see the small smile on his partner's face, and there seemed to be some kind of . . . glow? . . . about him. Heyes himself smiled at that silly thought. But when he looked back at the Kid, he was sure he saw it again. Heyes looked straight ahead for the rest of the trip, his chin held high and the same small smile on his own face.
As they approached the outskirts of the town, the Kid suddenly reined up and dismounted. Heyes watched in amazement as his friend looked back to the woods. The Kid stood there, loosely holding his horse's reins and staring at the woods with longing. There was a kind of electricity surrounding his friend, and Heyes waited expectantly for something to happen. He did not know what it would be, but somehow he knew it would change their relationship forever. Hannibal Heyes was anxious. But not afraid.
"Aaaaah, Heyes," the Kid sighed, finally. It was the first indication of their return trip that the Kid was even aware Heyes was with him. Heyes dismounted and stood next to his friend, patiently waiting.
The Kid led his horse a short ways off the road and sat down in a grassy area. Heyes followed his lead, still silent. "Isn't this a beautiful day?" asked the Kid with a big smile. He lay down fully on the grass and extended his arms. He started laughing.
"Why is it a beautiful day?" asked Heyes. "Tell me, Kid."
"Ah, Heyes!" The Kid kept laughing.
"Come on, Kid." The laughter was getting contagious; Heyes couldn't help his own smile. "Share with me!"
For the first time, Kid Curry looked at his partner. He laughed a bit more, then sat up and grabbed Heyes's shoulders with both hands. He shook his head in wonder. "How can I share something with you that I don't even understand myself?" He hugged his friend briefly, then continued. "I just know that something wonderful happened out there, and I'm a better man for it!"
Heyes was pleased. "Well, you sure look happier."
The Kid became silent again and thoughtful. For a few minutes they both studied the clouds, lost in their own thoughts.
After a while, the Kid spoke again. "Heyes, there's something I have to tell you."
"I know," Heyes responded, never taking his eyes off the clouds.
"I was afraid."
Heyes did not understand, but remained silent.
"After that bear attacked me, I was afraid. And I've never been afraid before. Of anything."
Heyes finally looked over at his partner. "Is that true, Kid?"
Kid Curry continued to watch the sky. "Yeah, it is. That was the first real fear I've known."
Heyes shrugged. "Nothing to be ashamed of."
The Kid sighed. "For me it was. Ever since we were kids and those raiders attacked our families . . . well, I just made it my business to think strong. I promised myself I would never be afraid of anything again. And I always kept my word to myself. It was important to me."
The Kid became silent. Heyes sensed a melancholy there so he said, "I always thought of you that way, Kid. Strong." He didn't know what else to say.
The Kid turned to look at his partner. "Thanks, Heyes. But when that bear attacked me, I was afraid. So afraid that I think I passed out. The next thing I remembered was you caring to me. Thanks for getting me back safely, but . . . for a while, I thought maybe it would have been better if it had killed me."
"What? No, Kid! "
"I know that now. But I'm sorry for being so angry. Life with me must have been miserable for you for a while there. I thought I was angry at the bear but I was really angry at myself."
"But why?"
"For letting myself down. For being afraid. So that's why I had to go back out there. To face that animal head-on. It was the only way I could live with myself. I know you didn't really understand that. I didn't understand it at all, either."
"OK, Kid, I get it now. But why did you put your gun on the ground? I thought you wanted to kill the bear. But you disarmed yourself? What chance would you have against an angry bear without even a firearm? You scared me!"
Kid Curry chuckled. "Sorry. But I saw the cubs' tracks and figured out it was a female bear that attacked me, and the cubs were the reason. Love is a strong emotion, even in animals, I guess. It was nothing more than a warning. I mean she could have killed me, but she didn't."
"But why the gun on the ground, Kid?"
The Kid studied the clouds again. "Because I had lost faith in myself. And I had to get it back somehow. If I couldn't believe in me, there was nothing else to believe in."
Heyes pondered that thought. He said nothing and waited out his partner.
"Thanks, Heyes, for putting up with me. For believing in me. And thanks for not shooting. You made it possible for me to witness a miracle today. I think what happened was the bear realized I was not a threat any more. Maybe it figured it out from the gun on the ground. Maybe it just knew it was more powerful than me. Or maybe it wanted me to believe in myself again. I don't know."
They both smiled.
"Maybe it was an angel, not a bear. It looked right at me and seemed to be talking to me. Telling me not to be afraid. And it worked. I know now I won't be afraid. I found myself again."
Heyes grinned broadly and reached over to pat his partner on the back. "Oh, sorry!" he said. "Forgot about those wounds."
"Don't worry, it didn't hurt."
Heyes looked at his partner in wonder. "What are you talking about, Kid? The claw marks . . ."
"They're gone, I think."
"What?! Let me see!"
Kid Curry removed his jacket and pulled up the back of his shirt. There were no wounds on his back at all. No claw marks.
No sign at all that there had ever been a bear.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.