Canada
"Mr. Heyes and Sheriff Trevors, the Governor will see you now."
The hopefully soon to be ex-outlaw took a step forward as he inquired, "What about my partner?"
"Mr. Curry can wait here, he will be taken care of shortly."
Heyes' eyes traveled from the man gesturing in the doorway to his partner standing beside him. Kid Curry read the nervousness behind the confident exterior and offered an encouraging smile. When Heyes hesitated to move, Curry propelled him forward with a settling pat on the back and watched him enter the inner sanctum of the politician who held their fates in his hands. A beamingsatisfied smiling Trevors trailed behind.
Kid crossed his arms, leaned against the reception area wall, and tried to shake off the sudden tingle of trepidation running down his spine. Already exceedingly wary by virtue of his location alone, Curry was hyper aware of the surrounding sounds and movement. Blue eyes focused on an approaching suit clad man, as he exited an office across the hall and walked towards Curry. The plainly nervous bureaucrat looked up quickly, met an impassive expression and his curious gaze dropped to the floor.
"Mr. Jedediah Curry?"
"Yes, I'm Jed Curry."
"Please follow me. The Wyoming Attorney General will see you now."
Kid couldn't help the involuntary glance back at the door denied him, and he wondered why.
The Attorney General's office door opened, Curry stepped in and immediately froze as the cold steel barrel of a revolver made contact with his temple. Four Territorial Marshall stars winked in the lamplight of the office on the solid chests of the men surrounding him.
"Turn around. Put your hands on the wall, and spread your legs," ordered the marshal holding the gun.
"What's going on? I've been searched already. I'm unarmed," Kid asked, looking over his shoulder, as he complied with the directive. He stood still and endured a thorough and uncomfortable search.
"He's clean."
"Good thing I took a bath before coming here with how personal you men just got." In spite of knowing better, Kid couldn't keep the annoyance out of voice. "I told you, I'm unarmed. Sherriff Trevors warned us that we would be searched upon entering the Capital building and all weapons would be confiscated. I may have broken laws but I'd be stupid to think I would be allowed anywhere close to the Governor with my .45." or anything else, for that matter."
"No, Mr. Curry, you're definitely not stupid or you wouldn't still be at large, standing here. Come sit down so that we can talk." The middle-aged corpulent attorney general rose from behind his substantial dark wood desk and gestured to the leather chairs in front of the desk.
Kid took a seat. The ranking territorial marshal sat in the chair beside the ex-outlaw while the remaining three marshals took positions standing at the door, behind Kid Curry, and slightly behind and aside of the Attorney General.
"Gentlemen, a cigar," offered the Governor as everyone seated themselves around the impressive desk.
"Mr. Heyes, my predecessors and I have received favorable reports from Sheriff Trevors and the Marshal Service. It is time to end the provisional deal and deliver a more permanent decision. Congratulations, I am awarding you the long-awaited amnesty."
Heyes sat back in his chair and took a long calming draw on the aromatic expensive cigar. He involuntarily glanced to the side, suppressed the sudden sense of regret of not having Kid beside him when they received the good news then leaned forward to better see the papers the Governor was laying out on the desk.
"The provisional amnesty deal is being ended today. The Railroad Shareholders, the Banker's Association, and the Wyoming Stockgrower's Association were adamant that Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry suffer the full penalty under the law for their numerous crimes. However, a compromise has finally been reached. It has been decided that you, Mr. Curry, with your reputation as a dangerous gunman and former co-leader of the Devil's Hole Gang, are no longer eligible for amnesty."
"My partner?" Kid interrupted urgently.
The Attorney General leaned back and regarded the well-presented ex-outlaw with dispassionate curiosity. "Mr. Heyes, at this moment, is receiving his amnesty from Governor Warren. I am tasked with explaining your portion of the deal."
Kid was grateful that he long ago learned to suppress any expression of emotion at need. He was acutely aware of being surrounded by lawmen. With the sudden trickling of a cold sweat down his back under the crisp white shirt and gray suit jacket he prepared himself to be handcuffed and marched to the Cheyenne Jail to await trial. He tried to get his mind to focus on how he would keep Heyes from doing anything to jeopardize his own promising future.
Kid Curry's attention was yanked back to the Attorney General.
"Hannibal Heyes is also being notified that any fraternization with known criminals will result in his prosecution for aiding and abetting a fugitive, harboring a fugitive and any other applicable new crimes. You, of course qualify as a known criminal. In the interest of fairness…"
Fairness?
"… as Sheriff Trevors was unaware that only one of you would be getting amnesty, you will not be arrested immediately, unless of course you decide to surrender."
Not likely.
"Curry, you have until 9:00 am tomorrow to leave the vicinity. Cheyenne lawmen will not pursue you or make an arrest from now until then. At nine the Marshal Service will begin distributing your new wanted poster to all law enforcement offices, nationwide."
A brand new wanted poster was laid before him by the marshal standing behind the attorney general with a smug grin. Kid glanced down, read the works and forced himself not to react.
"That's your copy. Congratulations, Mr. Curry, you are now one of the most wanted men not only in the West but in the entire country. Perhaps I shall see you soon after all when you are prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Do you have any questions before we conclude this interview?"
Kid couldn't think of a single question at the moment.
Heyes and Lom were waiting in the hall when Kid exited the office and met him with huge smiles and much backslapping.
"We did it Kid! We finally earned our amnesty. I told you to keep the faith. I wish they gave us the news together but what matters is we have amnesty. We have a real future. Thanks, Lom for believing in us."
The bastards, they didn't tell him. They left it to me, rub more salt in the wound. Kid plastered the best fake smile he could manage, grabbed Heyes by the arm and started to drag him down the corridor.
"Not now, not here. We can talk and celebrate back in the hotel."
The three seemingly exuberant men entered the partners' room. Kid threw his suit jacket on a chair, parted the curtains and instinctively drew back upon spotting a deputy marshal watching the hotel from across the street. Lom strode over to the table under the window, removed the bottle from the ice bucket he had arranged to be delivered and announced, "Have some champagne. I ordered the finest the hotel had to offer. You deserve it.". I'm so proud of you." The cork was popped, the bubbly poured, and glasses distributed. Lom raised his glass, "Congratulations on your amnesty and may you both have successful long futures."
Heyes beamed and added, "To us" as he clinked his glass with Lom's then turned to his cousin, best friend, and partner.
Curry, his stomach in knots, his mind numb, and his heart being squeezed couldn't maintain the charade any longer, "To Heyes. Congratulations on your amnesty."
"To Heyes? What do you mean on your amnesty? Not us?" Heyes abruptly dropped his arm. Lom sputtered on his champagne and both men stared blankly at Kid.
The blond still outlaw deliberately placed his untouched glass of the traditional celebratory libation on the dresser. He turned towards the bureau and raised his eyes to the mirror. Curry couldn't look his partner or his good friend and mentor in the eye, couldn't bear them to witness the devastation that he knew would be reflected in in his eyes or to be the object of pity as he informed them of his deal. It was bad enough that his voice shook as the strong emotions he'd been holding in threatened to overwhelm him.
"No, not us. There is no amnesty for the Fastest Gun in the West. There will never be amnesty for Kid Curry. I'm still wanted and always will be."
"Kid, no…no…that can't be…" Heyes murmured then spun to pin Lom Trevors with a penetrating stare of accusation.
Lom held up both hands, palms outward, and sincerely explained, "I swear I had no idea. That wasn't what I was told. I…"
"I know Lom. It was the reason they gave me for why I wasn't arrested on the spot. I have until nine in the morning to get as far away from Cheyenne as possible. before the law here will do anything. Of course, I'm fair game for anyone else who recognizes me." Kid turned to finally face Heyes and quietly stated, the bitterness apparent, "I've said all along that you would make it but I would not. That maybe it would be better if we split up. Well now there's no maybe about it, partner. It's time to stand alone and follow our different trails."
Lom glanced from one partner to the other. He had no words, nothing to offer, and a profound sadness settled in the room. The sheriff sighed, "I'll let you two have time in private. I'll be in my room. Kid, don't leave without giving me a chance to say good bye. I'm sorry, it isn't fair and it isn't right." Lom left the room, closing the door softly behind him.
Curry sprang into action, better to keep busy, keep moving, keep his mind off what was happening, of what it meant to lose his only kin, his best friend, his biggest supporter, and the only person he truly trusted. He stripped off his good clothes, leaving them in a heap by the side of the dresser. He donned his familiar trail attire and proceeded to stuff his remaining belongings in his saddle bags. Kid dodged his agitatedly pacing partner to retrieve his gun belt from the bedpost. He felt the familiar weight settle on his hips, tied the thong tightly to his thigh and fully realized how completely this one act defined his fate.
"What will you do? Where will you go? How will I know how to reach you? Through Lom? When can we see…"
"Heyes stop. You are going to live your life. You're going to show everyone that you deserved this second chance and make me proud. You are not going to constantly worry about me. I want you to remember the good times and we had plenty. Know that I will always remember you and wish you nothing but the very best. There is no more Heyes and Curry. I know you can't associate with outlaws. And frankly every bounty hunter and lawman is going to be watching you to lead them to me. Neither one of us can afford to have anything to do with the other anymore. That's reality."
"I can't just turn off a lifetime of relying on you. Kid, I need you."
"Not anymore. You don't need a fast gun that is if you keep fully aware of the situation and of the people you play poker against."
"You're more than that and you know it."
"It doesn't matter 'cause that's all that everyone sees or cares about." Kid shoved his coat on, slammed his hat down on his curls, gathered the saddle bags, and started for the door. He was going to need every minute to the start of the run of his life.
"So, where will you go? What will you do?" Heyes rushed to block the door. He was getting answers before Curry left the room. There must be some way around this impossible situation, which he could honestly say he never seriously considered. He needed time to think but Kid wasn't giving it to him.
"Heyes, I'm going to use an alias you've never heard of before. You're not to follow me. You're not to help me if I'm captured. You will not find me and you areyou're not to look. I'll no longer put anyone I know in jeopardy so I won't be visiting anyone we both know. You'll have to tell them what happened and say my good byes. I will not put Lom into a position of choosing between doing his job and being a friend so when I say good bye, it's good bye forever.". I 'm going to do my best to disappear."
"Kid, please just sit with me a minute or two. This is all so sudden," pleaded Heyes.
Kid sank to the bed and sat. He gave a heavy sigh, studied his scuffed and worn boots and thought the longer I stay the harder it is to leave. He knew if he stayed Heyes would talk him into something risky for Heyes. He needed to get out of Wyoming as much as he needed to stay in this hotel room.
The younger man struggled to keep his voice steady and matter-of-fact. "I'm going to do what we've always done on the run. Move around a lot. Do odd jobs. Try to blend in. Keep my gun in my holster like you tell me to do. Not help the needy since you won't be there to rescue me when things go wrong. I 'm not going back to Devil's Hole that life isn't for me anymore. Besides, I'm sure Wheat and the boys sure ain't gonna appreciate the bounty hunters camping right outside of the hole waitin' for me to show up. I know we always said we should go to Mexico or South America. But I only speak a few phrases of Spanish and I don't blend in really well south of the border, I'm kinda easily identified as the gringo. Plus, every lawman will be watchin' for me along the border and the bounty hunters who aren't hanging outside the hole will be combing Mexico once it's know you're a free man and I'm wanted without a partner watchin' my back. You be careful too, we've made enough enemies along the way, watch your back for a good long while."
Heyes sat beside his partner and bumped shoulders. His eyes were becoming dangerously damp. He pulled all the money from his pockets, only keeping his emergency stash in his boot, and shoved the cash into Kid's hands insisting, "Take it. It will be easier for me to earn more."
Brown eyes met blue and held for a very long moment.
"Thanks. This will help me go north. I thought Canada. It's not very populated. They have ranches up there, and I may be able to find work. And they speak English." Kid rose from the bed, stood squarely in front of Heyes, gave him a quick hug before sticking his hand out for the ritual handshake when they split up. Neither man could utter a word through constricted throats, nor did they need to; all that was left to be said could be discerned through their eyes.
Lom knocked and entered Heyes' room to find Heyes picking up and holding Curry's suit jacket. A piece of paper fluttered to the floor.
"What's that, Heyes?"
The officially ex-outlaw bent and picked up the folder paper, remarking to Lom as he unfolded it, "I don't know. Musta fell out of Kid's pocket." Brown eyes scanned the paper and turned hard with cold dangerous anger mixed with horror.
Lom perceived the sudden change in mood, swiped the paper from Heyes' hand and started reading aloud, "Wanted. Dead or Alive. Twenty-thousand dollar reward for Kid Curry. Age 29 years, 5'11" tall, 165 pounds, medium to dark blond curly hair, blue eyes, small scar under chin, youthful features, medium build. Kid Curry is widely believed to be the Fastest Gun in the West. He is an accurate and deadly marksman, proficient with all firearms. Curry is to be considered armed and dangerous. Notify the nearest law officer. Only approach with extreme caution. Kid Curry is wanted for armed robbery and multiple related crimes. Known aliases include Thaddeus Jones and the surname Hotchkiss. Reward payable upon capture or positive proof of his death. Oh no! They raised the reward and made a new poster on him."
"That's not a wanted poster, Lom. That's a death warrant."
"Now Heyes, that's not exactly true."
"Oh no, putting Fastest Gun in the West, accurate and deadly, armed and dangerous, approach with extreme caution on the poster makes Kid sound like some cold-hearted killer. They might as well just put Kid Curry, wanted dead, twenty-thousand dollars." Heyes was pacing the floor again, fear and frustration increasing with each step.
"Well, Kid is fast, accurate, and deadly. He has killed. He has shot men and if feels he needs to be he's capable of being quite a formidable opponent to protect him and his." Lom tried to present a reasonable reading of the opposing viewpoint.
Heyes stopped moving and leaned against the cool glass of the window. Serious brown eyes studied the sheriff in the room. With a quiet intense vehemence, the ex-outlaw countered, "The lawman talking, Lom? Yes, Kid's taken life when it's the last option. He doesn't take pleasure in it, never has. You want to talk about taking life? So, have you, for that matter, from safely behind a badge, so it's okay, you're a hero. I don't really know if I've killed or not. I like to think that I haven't but I've certainly put more than a few bullets in men over the years and haven't exactly stuck around to see if they all survived. Is that how you really feel, Lom? Is that what you or others have told the Governor about Kid?"
Lom's back stiffened and he shot back, "As a matter of fact, Heyes, I've told the Governors that Kid Curry is not just the Fastest Gun in the West but is probably the Safest Gun in the West, too. That Kid has a temper but along with that temper is patience, mercy, a strong sense of fairness. That he has an uncanny ability to make split second decisions, which combined with exceptional speed and accuracy has saved many more lives than any other man could or would in the exact same situations and much more than he has ever taken. That the reputation, while earned, really allowed a basically non-violent man in a violent profession to ensure compliance with your plans without bloodshed, which kept everyone safe."
The sheriff's shoulders slumped when he dropped down into the chair next to Heyes. "I don't know what others have been saying. I do know that Kid is my friend. I may have been skeptical in the beginning when you came to me about the amnesty but I believed in you both and, Heyes, you gotta believe me this isn't how I wanted things to turn out at all." Trevors bent his head into his hands, rubbing his graying temples.
"I do believe you, Lom. It's just so unfair and I don't know how to fix it."
Heyes gazed out the window, mulling over Lom's words and the earlier conversation with Curry. Canada's north. How will you go, Kid? Knowing you, you'll head northeast out of Cheyenne first since most people will be expecting you to go south or west. Then you'll come west, skirt the east side of the Rockies and the Tetons going north. You like the mountains and you know the Yellowstone area pretty well, it'll be easiest for you to disappear going that way. You'll have to avoid Devil's Hole and the Northern Indian Reservations. Crossing Montana might be a little tricky. Where are you, Kid? Stay safe! How far can you get by 9 in the morning?
"What are you thinking, Heyes?"
"Huh? Did you say something?"
"I said what are you thinking? You're not thinking of going after the Kid, are you?"
"No. I'm not allowed to be caught fraternizing with known outlaws."
"That's right, except it's not allowed to be fraternizing with known outlaws, period, not just if your caught. You can't help him anymore and you won't want anyone to get to him by using you in some way. Kid is a very capable grown man. He's proved he can stay out of trouble and out of the law's hands for the last couple of years. He'll be okay…"
If you believe that, we've been less than forthcoming about our adventures. We've barely been able to do it together. How is he going to do it alone?
"…so if I go back to my room and go to bed and leave you here, you'll stay here? We'll talk more in the morning."
"Heyes! Are you listening to me?"
"Sheesh, Lom. I'm listening. Don't worry about me. Go to bed. I'll be up for a while. I have a lot to think about. I hadn't planned for things to go this way. Kind of thought it would be amnesty or not for both of us."
Lom rose from the chair and crossed to the door. He looked back at forgotten glasses of champagne, and kept his own worries silently to himself.
"Congratulations and good night."
"Thanks Lom."
Eighteen months later
Hannibal Heyes and Lom Trevors loitered in the morning sunshine on the train platform.
"Good to finally see you Heyes, glad you stopped by after hearing about you showing up in Denver, winning that poker tournament in New Orleans, and being spotted in Texas and Arizona."
Lom took a good look at his departing guest and was genuinely sorry to see him go. He also silently thought about what wasn't talked about during the visit. You followed him that night, didn't you? You completely disappear for over a year and then show up in places that are all down south; was the Kid in Mexico, like everyone thought? No, that was too obvious. You've been pretty evasive about not being in contact with him and very tightlipped about specifics on your life now.
"Well as you said before, I did owe you an apology and explanation for suddenly disappearing the minute you turned your back the night of the amnesty. Especially since I said I wouldn't."
"Yeah, I was mighty annoyed and even more worried. It's good to know you stayed straight and out of trouble."
"Running the wilderness fishing and hunting camp was keeping me busy. And now the poker winnings will provide the last of the funds to buy it instead of just run it plus leave enough to make the improvements I want and to put a down payment on the town's small general store. I'm making a good honest living, the work's not too hard on the back most of the time and it provides just enough adventure and variety to keep life interesting. Don't worry. It's a good life, Lom. The people are friendly. I'm happy and settled."
The train pulled into the station and the two old friends moved out of the way of the departing passengers.
"You never did tell me in what wilderness this camp was in."
"Nope, I didn't. Is it important?"
"No, it's not. Just stay straight, stay happy, and stay safe. Keep in touch if you can. I can keep a secret you know."
Heyes brown eyes twinkled. He shook hands with Lom and boarded the train out of Wyoming and turned on the step to add a last comment. "I'll see you again, not sure when after all Porterville is a long way from Canada."
"Canada, eh Heyes. Give my regards to the Kid." Lom muttered to himself.
Heyes heard but said nothing. An enigmatic smile spread slowly across his face as train pulled way and he waved good-bye.
