The Edge

by goldieasj

A treacherous mountain pass threatens to destroy Curry and Heyes, but their insensitivity to each other may do the job first.

THE EDGE

by Goldie

Maybe it was the thinness of the mountain air. Maybe it was the bright sunshine that seemed even hotter as it washed through the diaphanous clouds. Or maybe it was the unbroken string of gauzy humid days that caused Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry, partners all their lives, to start bickering over unimportant things. Whatever it was, it started slowly, then intensified as they rode through the mountains. They were unaware of it at first. Each was unaware, even of his own discomfort and willingness to cause discomfort in the other. But as they continued their trek through the mountain passes, soaking up all the relentless mid-day sunshine that was not eradicated by the mountains themselves, Heyes and Curry increasingly found themselves figuratively at each other's throats. Argument after argument went unsettled and tempers came close to flaring. The stubborn streak that each possessed stopped them from the simple act of thinking before speaking.

And the anger that each nurtured kept them from realizing that their mountain path had continued to narrow until finally they were forced to ride single file. Heyes automatically took the lead.

"C'mon," Heyes chided, "Will you please try to keep up?"

"Quit yappin' at me. This's dangerous footing for my horse and you know it! Think about someone besides yourself for a change!" Kid Curry was not in the mood to take any more flak from his partner.

"If you'd bought the animal you should have bought, you wouldn't be dragging us along, and you know that! Look around - we're in the mountains!"

"Quit biddying! You sound like an old woman!"

"Maybe that's because I feel like I'm riding with an old man!"

"Keep it to yourself, Heyes. I bought a beautiful horse, 16 hands if he's an inch, and you're riding a mule! You tell me who looks stupid!"

"I'm riding a mule through the mountains, Kid, on tiny mountain trails with a cliff right next to us that drops down - oh, three or four hundred feet. Just in case you hadn't noticed! A mule is the most sure-footed animal known to man except maybe a mountain goat or a mountain lion. If the livery'd been selling a goat, I would've bought it!"

"It's hard to think of you looking dumber than you do right now, Heyes, but I'm starting to get a mental picture. Thanks."

"With that animal you're riding, you be sure to keep that picture in your mind when the two of you go tumbling over the edge!"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

Heyes had been enjoying teasing the Kid and the ensuing verbal repartee, but was a little surprised when the Kid's most recent statement fell short of witty. He turned to look at his partner. Kid Curry was focusing his entire concentration on the ground, watching his oversized mount kick up stones and stumble every so often. Each tiny mis-step was a major cause for concern. Heyes was right - it was a long way down that cliffside and the edge was only a few feet away. Heyes had been unconcerned atop his sure-footed mule and hadn't given much thought to how his partner was doing. It was very clear that Kid Curry was not doing well at all. The Kid's young face was full of worry lines and his body stance atop the handsome stallion was not the usual figure of ease and grace. It occurred to Heyes in surprise that Kid Curry the gunfighter was afraid. Normally Heyes's deep affection for the Kid would have prompted an encouraging response, but their bickering of the last few days virtually erased that tendency. "It's a cliff, Kid," Heyes reminded him bitingly.

"Leave me alone, Heyes. I'm concentrating."

After a moment's silence, Heyes began again. "Whatever made you decide to buy a - a damned racehorse to cross the mountains?"

"We've had this conversation before. Will you please shut up? I don't know what's got into you lately, but I'm tired of hearing you complain!"

Both were silent for a while. Then the Kid spoke again. "Whatever made you decide to take the hardest possible way around this mountain, anyhow? I think you did it for spite." He added the last sentence under his breath, but Hannibal Heyes, with his keen senses, heard it anyway.

Heyes honored his partner's request for silence, more for his own sake than the Kid's. A thought had planted itself in his mind that hadn't occurred to him before. Maybe the Kid was right - maybe he took the dangerous outside mountain pass out of spite. He certainly didn't want the Kid's life endangered, but he also didn't mind giving him a few reasons for concern and worry. Why was that?

"Let me say . . ." Heyes started.

"No! I don't want to hear anything you've got to say! If I ever get out of this alive . . ." The Kid's horse stumbled again on the loose stones at this point and went down on its knees. The Kid cried out involuntarily and Heyes did, too, surprising himself. Heyes watched with wide eyes as the Kid kept his seat and managed to pull his frightened horse to all four feet. But then the animal would not budge. It pushed its bulk against the cliff, painfully pinning the Kid's leg. No matter what he did, the Kid could not get the terrified animal to move. Heyes continued to watch from the steady seat of his mule until he felt he could not take it any longer. The cliff path was narrow enough to jeopardize their lives with a single misstep of their animals. Up ahead a hundred yards Heyes could see the path safely widening as the cliff backed away; he knew he would have to do something drastic to get them safely past this part of the trail. He had a plan.

Heyes dismounted and walked slowly back toward his partner. The skittish horse threw up its head and watched his approach with widened eyes.

The Kid was spooked as well. "Heyes, what in the hell do you think you're doing? Get back there! I can handle this!"

"Doesn't really look like it, Kid. You need a master hand here. Whoa, boy."

Heyes kept his voice low and soothing, but the horse reacted by backing up and pushing harder into the cliff wall. The Kid groaned in pain at the new pressure on his knee.

"Whoa, boy," Heyes continued to soothe while slowly bringing up his hands.

"What the hell are you doing?" The Kid was livid. "Get out of here or we'll all end up going over the side!"

"Shut up, Kid!" Heyes whispered furiously. "Don't you think he can feel that right through the saddle?" By this time, Heyes had reached the skittish stallion. The horse was thoroughly frightened, alternating between focusing its wide eyes on Heyes and on the drop below. Heyes placed his gloved hand on its head. "Take it easy, fella," he said calmly, "and we'll all walk out of here alive." He brushed the horse's forehead with his left hand while removing his own bandanna with his right. With slow deliberate movements, he positioned the bandanna so that it covered the horse's eyes and then he tucked both ends into the bridle. The horse relaxed, now unable to see the cliff's edge. Heyes motioned for the Kid to give up the reins and he grabbed them, safely leading the horse as far as his mule, then taking the mule's reins and leading both animals until they were far enough away to be out of danger of the narrow path. Heyes hated to admit it, but he had been holding his breath through most of the ordeal. He handed the reins back to the Kid and sat down on the ground to regain his composure.

Heyes waited to hear thanks from his partner, but it was not forthcoming. What he did hear was the Kid patting his horse, removing the bandanna, and speaking softly to him for reassurance. Intentionally Heyes avoided gazing in the Kid's direction, but after a moment his anger and curiosity got the better of him and he ventured a look.

Kid Curry was dismounting, awkwardly due to his newly-injured knee. As his feet hit the ground, his leg buckled under him and he fell. Heyes resisted a mild inclination to assist his partner. He watched as the Kid righted himself and sat down. As far away as possible from the edge.

Neither spoke for a moment.

Finally Heyes broke the silence. "Are you planning on thanking me or not?" he asked, more sarcastically than he intended.

For a moment the Kid just looked at him with a blank expression on his face. "Why did you do that?" was his only response.

What!? Heyes was flabbergasted. Why did I do that? "Are you really asking me that, Kid? Why I did that? Would you have preferred tumbling down a few hundred feet?"

"So you thought you were saving my life?" calmly replied the Kid. "Did it ever occur to you that I was in control?"

"No! From where I sat, it looked like you only had a few more seconds on this earth. Up here, anyhow."

Unruffled again. "Well, you were wrong, Heyes. I was trying to calm him down by staying calm myself."

"Like you're doing now, I suppose."

"That's right, like I'm doing now. Trying to keep calm so I don't punch you out."

This was too much! "You know, you really are an ungrateful wretch! Partners . . ."

"No, not ungrateful," interrupted the Kid. "Maybe you did save my life. But you didn't give me a chance first. You took over. You always take over." The Kid's calm demeanor was maddening to Heyes.

"Partners," Heyes continued, "are supposed to do things like save each other's lives. We've always . . ."

"We've always been able to take care of ourselves, even though we were partners."

"We've always had an understanding, Kid. You handle the gunfighting and I handle the thinking." Heyes suddenly realized what he had just heard. "What do you mean – were partners?"

Kid Curry sighed deeply. "I'm tired of fighting you. We've been fighting all day, we fought all day yesterday, the day before . . . I don't . . . When this path branches off, I think we should each go in a different direction. Anyhow, that's what I want."

Heyes waited a moment before responding. He wanted the opportunity to think through what the Kid had just said, how he felt about it, what he wanted, how he wanted to respond. The Kid was looking at the ground, not at him. Heyes believed that it had been very hard for the Kid to say what he had just said, and he appreciated the candor.

But it didn't change the way he felt.

Hannibal Heyes was almost as angry as Kid Curry. He didn't like the way the Kid had been bucking his authority lately. He didn't like some of the decisions the Kid had made, wrong decisions in his opinion. He didn't like some of the things the Kid had insisted on, things that had put them in unnecessary danger of detection by authorities. Outwardly, he had told the Kid this path was necessary to throw a posse off their trail, a posse the Kid's fast draw had been careless enough to attract in the last town. But maybe, thought Heyes in one lucid but fleeting moment, maybe that's why I chose to take the dangerous mountain path. To teach him a lesson. But this train of thought abandoned him immediately because it was not comfortable. Hannibal Heyes agreed with Kid Curry. They should split up the partnership.

"Best idea you've had in a long time," he said angrily. As he jumped to his feet and grabbed the reins to re-mount the mule, he caught a glimpse of the surprise on his partner's face. He frowned.

Neither said a word as they directed their mounts along the remainder of the mountain path. Heyes knew that the path would split up ahead. He wasn't sure how far - probably less than a mile. He was fuming and tried not to look at his partner. The Kid continued to look primarily at the ground, his face unreadable. Their life together was about to end - their years as partners, confidants, close friends - it was all about to come to an end. And neither said a word.

Heyes did not like the anger he was feeling and had been feeling the last several days. Regrets and complaints that he should have verbalized had finally come to the surface and caused him to nitpick and hound his partner until he couldn't take any more. And Kid Curry was a dangerous man to hound. Probably no one but Hannibal Heyes could get away with it - a fact that Heyes recognized and was proud of. And misused. But the Kid had clearly reached his breaking point. After eluding the posse, his next wish in life had been to find some peace. But Heyes was making it impossible.

Although the widened path allowed for them to ride side by side, Heyes pulled ahead. The Kid bristled at the covert act of superiority. It was the latest in a long line of messages of inferiority that he had been sent by Heyes - messages that clearly spelled out who was in charge. The Kid had always felt, from the beginning, that their relationship was a partnership based on equality. He believed Heyes did not feel this way. And he believed Heyes was wrong. Equality was necessary in a relationship that worked, he believed. They used to think, act and move together like a well-oiled machine. But now the machine was broken, and the Kid didn't know how to fix it, or why it broke. It took too much of his energy to bicker with his partner and bickering was necessary to avoid losing his identity entirely. 'Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry' might just as well be known as 'Hannibal Heyes.' Kid Curry snorted at that. Who was the gunfighter here? Who saved who's life? And how many times? Where was the appreciation here? Perhaps breaking up would teach Heyes a lesson. Something should.

Heyes and the Kid both slowed down as they approached a fork in the road. The cliff was now far behind them, and the roads on the mountain were fairly flat and easily traversed. There was a signpost at the fork in the roads.

LONE PINE NEW BLISS

Heyes reined up and stared stupidly at the sign. "I've been this way before, but I thought the towns had different names. Lone Pine? New Bliss?"

"Then you did take me on that path intentionally! Good easy way to get rid of an unwanted partner!"

Heyes looked at the Kid in surprise. "Of course I went that way intentionally. I told you - the posse wouldn't follow us on that path. And wasn't I right?"

"Do you mean: are we alive to argue some more? Then yes, you were right."

Heyes looked at the Kid without really seeing him. That same nagging thought had surfaced again. "Kid, I think you're right," he said softly.

"About what?" asked Kid Curry angrily as he dismounted and sat down to think. Instinctively they both realized that there was only one more conversation left.

Heyes dismounted and sat across from him. Before speaking, he watched the horse and mule walk off to graze unconcernedly. Briefly he admired their lack of responsibility. "About the path," he said, turning to look at his partner. "I think you're right - I took it to get back at you for attracting that posse in the first place. I liked the poker and women there; I didn't want to leave so soon. And then . . ." Even more ideas in the same vein occurred to Heyes. He was proud of himself for being so candid and then realized that this wasn't the time for pride. He lowered his eyes, ashamed of himself. "And then, I didn't tell you about this path when we traded our worn horses for these animals. I should have warned you about how narrow the path is. Asked your opinion." He thought for a moment more, then said, "I guess it was the wrong thing to do. I guess what I'm saying here is I'm sorry."

The anger the Kid had been holding inside for so long suddenly diminished. He stared at his partner, surprised and greatly pleased. This was all he had hoped to hear - all he had wanted - just an acknowledgement that his feelings mattered. He rubbed his hand over his face, feeling his whiskers and realizing with a shock that he was smiling. Not wanting to appear eager, he dropped the smile. "I really didn't need your help, you know. Well . . . I guess what I'm saying is thanks."

Heyes did know it. Kid Curry was - in fact, both of them were - quite capable of self-preservation. It had been proven time and time again. But both were aware that it was better - more desirable and more pleasing - to be able to depend on someone else. Someone you cared about. It was one of the things that made life worth living.

For anyone else, this may have been a tense moment, but not for Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry. They'd always been together and knew each other well. Heyes was well aware that the Kid was trying to give the impression that he was still steamed, and the Kid knew Heyes well enough to realize that his apology was sincere. Suddenly they were completely at ease with each other and the anger of the last few days seemed unimportant. Both relaxed noticeably. Heyes sighed and leaned back against a rock, closing his eyes and soaking up the sun that had been annoying him just a short while ago. The sun made his face feel hot. The Kid stared at his partner, appreciating their friendship and the fact that his anger had passed. And deeply appreciating Heyes's willingness to take the first step to end the hostilities. He was lost in contented thoughts for a moment, but something suddenly snapped him to attention. Unsure what, he focused on Heyes, who was still in the same position and seemed not to have noticed anything amiss.

Except for his eyes, the Kid did not move. His frozen position belied the fact that his gun hand was at his side and ready to respond in a fraction of a second to any danger. His eyes darted around quickly, his mind trying to comprehend whatever it was that had caused the sudden impression that something was wrong. Nothing seemed out of place but the feeling would not subside. He knew something was wrong; he just didn't know what. He did not relax.

Heyes opened his eyes and was surprised to see his partner tensed. Their common experiences over the years allowed him to read the Kid perfectly. He knew the Kid sensed something. Heyes looked around to try to pinpoint the danger.

The movement of his head was all it took.

They both heard the hiss of the rattlesnakes at the same time. The sudden tail movement allowed them to see the snake that was within inches of Heyes, on the rock near his head.

And both became aware of the snake that was on the ground near the Kid, coiled and ready to strike.

Kid Curry, the experienced gunfighter, did not hesitate. No time was wasted in making his choice. In a split second, his gun cleared the holster and shot the snake accurately in the head, killing it instantly and sending it flying. The snake near Heyes.

On his part, Heyes also did not hesitate to make a decision. He drew his gun and shot at the snake near the Kid, missing with the first shot and hitting the mark with the second. But not fast enough. The snake bit the Kid.

Heyes fought back a cry and sprang into action. "Don't, Kid!" he yelled, as he saw the Kid reach down to remove the snake. "Hold still!" He reached the Kid in seconds and used the barrel of his gun to flick away the dead snake. They both watched in revulsion as the snake, although dead, snapped at the air with a bite reflex. Heyes quickly examined the area for more possible snakes but saw none. His eyes came to rest on his partner and his heart was broken as he recognized fear and despair in the Kid's eyes.

"Try not to move," Heyes whispered. He put a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder and then went immediately to work. He removed the boot, examining the small holes the fangs had made, and then throwing the boot aside. The snake had had to bite through the boot and sock so the penetration of the skin had been minimal. Nonetheless, rattlesnake venom had undoubtedly been injected. Heyes quickly searched his memory for options and came up with only one. Without hesitation, he drew his knife and cut a small slit in the skin near the fang holes. He heard the Kid's quiet intake of breath from the pain but he knew he could not acknowledge it at that time. Quickly he bent down and began to suck on the wound to draw out the poison. The fangs had penetrated the skin over the ankle and had not done much damage. Heyes drew out blood and spit it aside and repeated the gesture several times until he was sure he had safely removed any possible venom. When he felt it was safe to stop, he leaned back and finally ventured a look at his partner's face.

The Kid was pale and sweating and his face clearly showed he was in pain. His eyes were closed and for a moment Heyes thought he had passed out. But Kid Curry opened his eyes and looked at his partner.

"You all right?" ventured Heyes.

The Kid shook his head and looked away. Heyes waited for a moment, hoping fervently for more, then walked to his mount. He brought back the canteen and poured some of the water over the Kid's injured ankle. He then pushed the canteen toward his partner. The Kid indicated he didn't want any water. "Drink it, Kid. You should have some water." Their eyes met and Kid Curry realized he wasn't going to win this argument any more than he won any other. He reluctantly drank from the canteen, slowly at first, then more intensely as he realized how good the water tasted. When he was done, he held on to the canteen for a moment, studying it, before handing it back to Heyes.

Their eyes met for a short moment. "Thanks," said the Kid somewhat grudgingly.

"Don't tell me you're going to ask me why I did that!" Heyes blurted out, regretting it immediately. He bit his tongue to avoid saying anything else sarcastic. The Kid stiffened but did not respond. Heyes removed the Kid's bandanna and tied it tightly around the snakebite area. "Sorry I had to use the knife," he said matter-of-factly, recalling how the Kid had flinched with the pain. "It works faster that way."

The Kid watched his partner bandage the wound and then fetch his boot for him to put back on. He stood and walked around a little to test his foot. When he was satisfied that he was all right, he walked to his horse and mounted. He looked at his partner one more time, then pointed to the road sign that indicated the two different routes. "This is where we part," he told Heyes. "I'm going this way. You go the other."

Heyes was stunned that the Kid still felt like breaking up the partnership. He had risked accidental swallowing of rattlesnake poison in the process of saving the Kid's life. In his mind, this qualified him for temporary forgiveness of sins, if not an entire lifetime of devotion. He rued his sarcastic remark but it was too late to take it back. At that very moment, Hannibal Heyes realized he did not want their partnership to end. He knew he would have to think fast. "Are you sure this is what you want, Kid? I mean - I forgive you," he said.

"You forgive me?" The Kid's earlier calm demeanor was in serious danger. "What do you forgive me for, Heyes? Always listening to everything you say? Doing everything you want? I don't even forgive myself for that."

"We always said, Kid, I'd be the planner and . . ."

"You listen to me, Heyes! I'm just . . ." Exasperated, the Kid reined his horse abruptly toward the road sign, then back again. "Just . . ." He reined his horse back and forth as he appeared to be searching for the right words. The racehorse pranced to and fro.

"Just what exactly?"

"Just . . . I'm just sick and tired of you saving my life!"

This was an outlandish idea and Heyes was completely stunned.

"You saved me in Santa Marta, you saved me from the posse, you saved me from falling over the edge of the cliff. And now you saved me from a damned rattlesnake! What's next? - you shoot the devil when he comes for my soul?"

Heyes did some quick thinking but had no precedent to follow. "Kid - uh - calm down."

"I got along fine before we paired up and I can get along fine now. I don't need anyone nanny-goating me all over the place. I can take care of myself, Heyes."

"I know," said Heyes with a wide smile.

The smile had the desired disarming effect. Kid Curry reined his horse back toward Heyes. "What do you mean - you know?" he asked suspiciously.

"And you can take care of me, too," Heyes continued, the smile plastered on his face. "I'm counting on you."

The Kid squinted. "What are you on about?"

"I didn't get the chance to thank you for saving my life," said Heyes. "The other snake would have bitten me for sure if you didn't have such good aim. I've never seen shooting the like of yours, Kid. I'm always amazed at how good you are."

"So suddenly you remember that I saved your life," sneered the Kid.

"I'd be dead for sure if you weren't the best there is. Never saw shooting like that! The fact is, Kid, that we have to stay together. I need you to watch after me. I won't make it without you."

"Hmmm . . ." The Kid appeared doubtful.

"Sure, I've saved your life a few times. But there's a lot more times you've saved my life! I wouldn't be alive today if it wasn't for you."

Heyes was pleased with his own quick thinking and verbal manipulation. He watched the Kid dismount his horse, prepared to hear more praise, so he provided it. "Who knows the truth? The truth probably is that I'd be dead ten times over if not for your good shooting all those times we rode away from jobs and from posses." Heyes knew he was laying it on a little thick, but the Kid was watching him closely and hanging on every word. Apparently, thought Heyes, this is exactly what his partner needed to hear. "When we were pulling jobs, we decided that I would do the thinking and you would back me up, and that's always worked well. You're the best back-up man I ever had!" He emphasized that last sentence and was pleased with the effect this had on the Kid. But these words unexpectedly had an effect on him, too. All of a sudden Heyes realized these weren't just hollow words he was speaking. They weren't just words coming out of his mouth - they were coming from way down in his soul, from his heart. He said them again. "You're the best partner anyone ever had!"

Kid Curry's anger seemed to be disappearing. He paid very close attention to everything that was being said, and the expression on his face was softening.

Heyes's expression was softening, too. The stark reality of the truth in his words hit him hard. Suddenly he remembered how much the Kid had done for him over the years. The Kid had truly saved his life a number of times and put himself in grave danger often for Heyes. The Kid had been the back-up man in the train and bank robberies. He had worked with Heyes on two-person jobs, never shirking any hard chore or responsibility. He had always been there, no matter what. The Kid was always dependable. And he was always devoted to Heyes. Heyes gasped a little as he realized this.

The very words Heyes had intended for mollifying his partner worked their magic on himself instead. Heyes stared at the Kid and saw him in a new light. For a moment, words failed him. When he felt his eyes watering, he turned his head. Taking a deep breath, he looked off to the distance and asked the Kid in as steady a voice as he could conjure, "You're not really going to break up this partnership, are you?"

Heyes continued staring off at a faraway mountain peak, waiting for his partner's response. There was none at first. Then - laughter.

Laughter!

Abruptly, Heyes turned to see Kid Curry, standing with his arms crossed. Laughing heartily. "Oh, Heyes," he managed to get out between guffaws. "You really fell for it!" His laughter intensified and he found himself leaning against a tree while his body shook with laughter.

Incredulous, Heyes stared at him. "Fell for what?" he asked stupidly.

"Of course I'm not going to break up the partnership! But let that be a lesson to you!" chuckled the Kid, waving a finger at his partner. "Stop meddling with me when I'm trying to do something. Stop making decisions without me. And stop biddying me! I'm just as good a horseman as you are. I could have got him going again without your help, thank you very much." He held his sides as his laughter diminished. "But thanks anyway. I haven't had a laugh this good in a long time."

Heyes continued staring. He knew now that the partnership was not dissolved and felt a tremendous relief over the fact that the Kid still wanted to be with him. But a natural anger at having been duped was impossible to squelch and threatened to overtake his positive feelings. The tears of dread in his eyes turned into tears of anger. It took all the energy he had to try to think clearly and to avoid yelling at the Kid. He felt his right hand fold into a fist.

But one thing was clear - Heyes hadn't seen the Kid smile in a long time. Just as he had suggested. And it was a comforting sight, just like the old days. Lately Heyes had been wondering what had gone wrong with their relationship, for something clearly had gone wrong, but now he began to realize that perhaps he was part of the problem. Perhaps the Kid's requests were not that far-fetched. He watched the Kid smile gently and say, "Partners again?" And he rejoiced as the feelings of anger and dread melted away by magic and turned into genuine joy.

"I guess I forget sometimes," said Heyes. "Maybe I'm too . . . well, I mean . . . I'm sorry, Kid. Truly."

"Partners?" the Kid gently reiterated.

Heyes nodded his head once. "Partners," he granted.

"No more biddying?"

"No more biddying. No more anger?"

"Nope." They walked toward each other and shook hands. Then instinctively they embraced. Just for a moment, but with a lifetime of meaning.

They were both injured, but their injuries were not life-threatening. Kid Curry had an injured knee and a foot bandaged against a snakebite and a knife cut, and Hannibal Heyes had an ego damaged and deflated. The fact that these injuries were not life-threatening was due to the fact that they needed each other. And each was willing to be there for the other.

The mountain sun shone just as brightly that afternoon as it had in the morning, but as Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry made their way down the mountain path, the thin air and gauzy clouds no longer irritated them. Things in their world were finally good. They had eluded the posse, they had made it safely through the narrow path, they had saved each other from rattlesnakes, and their mule and horse were behaving as they wanted. And, best of all, their feelings of anger had faded. Now they viewed the monotonous hot humid hours as a blessing, the diaphanous light of the day's end illuminating their ability to see and appreciate each other. And they both knew that the campfire that would come in the night would have the same effect. Partnerships of long standing must go through many phases, and not all survive the bad times. But the good ones - the miraculous ones - will survive anything.

Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry now knew that. And they took the path that led to New Bliss.

---

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The 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.

11