Happenstance

The old North Wind blew. And blew. And blew. Relentless cold permeated every nook and cranny of man and beast. An otherwise perfect blue sky and golden rays mocked travelers. As Sophocles in a later iteration of the fable might not have lost his cloak, a determined Kid Curry pulled his usually warm sheepskin jacket closer, try as he might to muffle the gusts. Still shivering, he yanked a long scarf from a saddlebag, wrapped it around his hat and neck, tucking the ends into the top of his coat. Hannibal Heyes mirrored his actions, holding his head down both to keep from squinting and duck the freezing blasts. In a twist on the tale, the Sun would lose this day.

They picked up speed. The extra exertion soon warmed them but they slowed to let the horses set the pace. They had left riding hell bent for leather and bound for glory behind them, or so they thought.

"Heyes, how much money do we have?"

"Same as last time you asked."

"How much was it again?"

Heyes smirked. "You mean, how little? Two bits ain't gonna get us far. Barely enough for a penny ante game."

"Two bits? That's just sad."

"Something'll turn up, Kid. It always does."

Curry regarded his partner. "Does it? Seems we'd've been doin' better if we'd turned south a lot sooner than this."

"That's true. But we couldn't know it would turn cold so fast." Heyes looked up. "You know, the day looks nice but ..."

"Looks can be deceivin' ..."

"Right. So what we need now is a plan."

"A plan? Heyes, we've gone straight, remember?"

Brown eyes stared dead ahead. "Oh, I remember, all right."

"If a plan's what we need to get us some money, we need to rob a bank. At least it's a job."

"I know, Kid. But as you just reminded me, we don't do that anymore."

"Well, unless you're gonna pull two jobs out of thin air, we're gonna freeze again tonight. Now if we had four bits instead of two, we could bed the horses down in a livery somewhere and stay in the barn with them. At least we'd have hay to keep us warm ..." Curry's belly growled. "... Although we'd have nothin' to eat."

Heyes struck an optimistic tone. "We still have enough flour and beans for a few meals, and with a little luck you'd be able to scare up some game."

Something caught Kid's eye. "There's a sign. Must be a town up ahead."

"See, Kid, our luck's changin' already. And I have a plan."

~~~000~~~

The batwing doors whinged as the partners stepped into the saloon.

"They sound like I feel."

Heyes smiled, extending an arm around Kid's shoulder. "A drink'll do us both good." He plunked down a dime. "Two whiskeys."

Curry surveyed the bar. "Any eggs?"

The bartender set two shot glasses in front of them. "Nope. This is a saloon. The cafe's across the street."

"Peanuts?"

"Nope. Can get those at the general store."

"Anything to go with a drink?"

The bartender scowled. "Son, if it's free food you're wantin', you came to the wrong place. Owner's not in the habit of givin' anything away."

Curry sighed. Holding the shot glass in front of him, he beheld the amber liquid. "To warmth!" He downed the whiskey in one gulp, making a face. "Uh! Rot gut!"

Heyes glanced at him before sipping his own drink. "Well, I have tasted better."

"Gents, if'n you want better, it comes dearer. You plunk down two bits each, I'll get out the good stuff."

"Two bits? Each?" Kid rolled his eyes. "That's highway robbery!"

The bartender smiled. "Not for the good stuff it ain't. 'Scuse me, gents." He walked to the other end of the bar to another customer.

Heyes sipped again.

"The good stuff? Like Kyle and the dynamite. Another reminder ..."

The dark-haired partner put his glass down, speaking in a low tone. "We've gone straight, remember? Let's get a table. Told ya, I got a plan."

~~~000~~~

Kid Curry lifted his head from the pillow. "What was that about a plan?"

Hannibal Heyes sat on the adjoining cot. "It's working."

"Maybe a little."

"Nope. It's working just fine."

The blond man held his head. "How do ya figure? I feel lousy and my head hurts."

"You're just in a bad mood." Heyes swept his arm around the cell. "We've had two days with a roof over our heads, meals, horses fed and watered. I even won a dollar from the deputy. I'd say that's a pretty good investment of a coupla bits. You continue faking you're sick, we could probably stretch this another day or two. More time for me to win."

Curry rolled to his side. "I ain't fakin' - I am sick! The food's lousy and the roof leaks. There's no heat from the stove this far back. I just wanna get warm; haven't been for days. So much for your plan."

"If the food was better, the roof didn't leak, and the stove was back here, you'd think it was fine."

Kid pulled his jacket tight. "Maybe. But that's a lot of supposin' and right now I'm still wearin' my jacket - and I'm inside."

Heyes threw a blanket to his partner. "Here, this should help. Make it look more convincing to the sheriff."

Curry shivered as he pulled the cover around him. "Nobody needs convincin' I'm cold; just am. How come you're not?"

"It's a little chilly but not too bad. And that was convincing them that you're sick." Heyes stood and walked around the cell.

"I am sick!"

Heyes sighed. "Yeah, I know, sick of being cold, sick of bad food, just plain sick of it all." He lowered his voice. "Kid, you really gotta snap out of it. We've had it worse."

"Yeah, when?"

The dark-haired man continued to pace. "Well, that time we hid in that cave for two weeks in the middle of winter and the food ran out before the posse gave up. Talk about being cold and hungry!"

Kid coughed.

"So right now it's pretty good compared to that, I'd say. We get arrested to sleep off a drunk and we're still here a couple days later."

Kid deadpanned, "So we faked being drunk. I'm still cold."

Heyes wore a hurt expression. "Who was faking? We were drunk - well, maybe we took it a bit far."

"Neither of us gets drunk on a whiskey and beer."

"But we played it just right. Sleepin' off a drunk, just as I planned."

Kid rolled onto his back, pulling his hat down over his face. "Where was my gettin' sick in your plan?"

Heyes chuckled. "It wasn't. Just a nice coincidence."

Curry lifted the hat. He glared at his partner. "Nice coincidence? You're cold, Heyes, real cold."

"Nah, it's cold outside. I'm pretty comfortable in here." He smirked. "You know what I mean."

Kid sat up. "Okay, so I got sick. That's the only reason I'm still here - bad food. But you're fine, so why're you here?"

Dimples appeared. "Well, somebody has to look after ya with the doc away, and the sheriff and deputy got better things to do."

Curry lay down again. "If I don't feel better soon, I'll just give up and have them ship me to Wyomin'. The roof and food have to be better at the territorial prison."

Heyes spoke in a low tone. "You don't really mean that, do ya?"

"I don't know."

"You sound serious. Let's not even think about that." Heyes was concerned.

"Maybe I am serious. We were locked up first for being drunk and get a free place to stay with meals. Now, what're we still doin' here behind a locked door? The sheriff probably knows who we are and ain't sayin' so we don't get suspicious."

Heyes raised a brow. "Nah. He hasn't let on to anything like that."

Curry raised himself up on one elbow. "Then why's the door locked?"

The dark-haired man strode to the front of the cell. Grabbing the bars on the door, he shook them gently. Heyes pulled his arms tight around him and shivered. He walked to the barred window which looked out over a back alley. Bleak shadows snuffed out any rays that dared to penetrate. He leaned his forearms on the sill and stared. A period of time passed, seeming an eternity.

His partner's snores snapped him back to his senses.

"Wait!" Heyes extended an arm to the cot. "Kid, wake up."

"Huh?"

"We're getting outta here." Heyes reached for his boot. He grinned impishly as he held something up.

Weary blue eyes brightened. "Oh, Heyes, I plum forgot."

Heyes sighed. "So did I. Let's go. They're not here right now."

With renewed energy, Heyes had the lock picked just as Kid cleared the bed. They grabbed their gear and made their way to the horses.

As two ex-outlaws stole away, the North Wind calmed. Bellies still in need of nourishment and bodies of warmth, they pulled their coats around them still as snug but hopeful a new day's Sun would brighten their resolve.