Cornflower blue eyes stared in wonder at the small display set out in the window of Todd's Mercantile Store. The boy stood so close that his unruly, once-blond curls touched the pane and his breath made a small misty mark on the glass.
Large jars stood in neat rows filled with candy in all the colours of the rainbow from yellow lemon drops and green peppermint sticks to strawberry lollipops and bars of chocolate. The boy's brows knitted together as he tried to imagine how they might taste. Sweet was the only word he could come up with. He was sure that he must have tried some once, but he was struggling to remember when.
Right on cue his empty stomach gave a loud growl.
If there was one thing that he hated most in this life it was feeling hungry.
He had spent the last five years at the Valparaiso School for Waywards where, every day, he had felt almost as hungry as he did right now. Come to think of it he couldn't even recall the last time he had eaten anything resembling a proper meal and what it felt like to have a full stomach was forgotten, long ago.
Things had got worse lately — much worse. A piece of abandoned bread plucked from a cafe table together with an apple snatched on the run from a display outside a general store had been the last things he had eaten.
Vague recollections of his mama's home cooking drifted into his mind but he pushed the bruised and battered memories away, back to where they couldn't cause him any pain.
Thirteen year old Jed and his fifteen year old cousin Hannibal had been fending for themselves for about three months now. The decision to run away had been the easy part — it was getting out of the building itself that had posed a problem. The School for Waywards felt a lot more like a prison than a school and only loosely resembled anything the word 'Home' could conjure up.
Han had worked on their escape plan for months although the actual lock-picking skills required had been honed over a much longer period of time. He had started by stealing a padlock from the caretaker's toolbox. Hours were then spent playing around with it, sometimes way into the early hours while the other boys were tucked up in bed asleep, trying various objects such as pieces of wire, nails and even the prong of a belt buckle to open it. Once he had worked out how to do it no padlock was safe as he couldn't resist the urge to open each and every one he came across.
Next, he graduated to the lock on the door to the caretaker's store room. This was a high risk undertaking; he would have received a severe beating if he had been caught anywhere near it, but he took advantage of every opportunity, however fleeting, and persevered until it would open for him in less than a minute. Different types of locks were then added to his repertoire until he was confident that he could pick almost any one.
Jed was in awe of his older cousin's abilities. Han could read anything — even long words — and when they were not employed making boots and shoes or sewing pillow ticks, he always seemed to have his nose in a book. Despite only a few hours schooling each week he could recite all his times tables as well as do sums in his head; and now he was able to open locks without appearing to be even trying. Jed hoped that by the time he was fifteen he would be that smart too but, right now, he was happy to follow Han's lead.
It was one of Han's plans that Jed was supposed to be following right at this minute but the colourful shop window had proved too much of a temptation. He had totally forgotten that he was supposed to be positioned at the end of the alley between the mercantile and the gunsmiths, keeping a look out for his cousin and making sure that there was nobody on the main street who could hinder their escape.
A loud string of expletives brought his attention back to the present and, suddenly remembering where he ought to be and what he should be doing, Jed darted off the boardwalk and onto the street to look apprehensively down the alley.
A tall, dark-haired boy ran hell bent for leather from the back of the store and around the corner, clutching a couple of bulging gunny sacks to his chest. The storekeeper, Mister Todd, his round chubby face red with anger and exertion followed in close pursuit.
Glancing over his shoulder at the irate man the thief increased his pace. "Run, Jed! Run!" yelled Han noting the boy's indecision.
Without looking Jed turned and literally ran straight into the strong arm of the law.
ooooo-OOO-ooooo
The small town of Serenity easily lived up to its name — nothing much ever happened here. The railroad barely came within a hundred miles of the town and a stage service not much closer. Mail deliveries were erratic and anyone wanting to send a telegraph had to make a good day's ride south to Woodsdale. As far as the law was concerned, the occasional theft of a pie left cooling on a windowsill or a drunk needing to be pointed in the direction of home on a Saturday night was about as lawless as it got.
Danny Whitman, the town's young, newly-appointed deputy sheriff strolled along the boardwalk whistling happily to himself as he made his afternoon rounds. The unusual sound of Mister Todd's raised voice brought him out of his reverie and, despite his apparent complacency, he reacted quickly and ran toward the commotion.
Danny may not have been in the job more than a few months but he had a sharp mind and instantly came to the conclusion that the unfamiliar blond boy was involved with whatever was going on. Luckily, he arrived at the alley just in time to thrust out an arm and seize Jed by a good handful of his shirt collar as he turned to run.
"Oh, no you don't!" Danny held the struggling boy with one hand and drew his six gun with the other as someone ran past him from out of the alley.
"Stop right there or I'll shoot ya," he declared, taking note of the second culprit's youth.
Hannibal responded more to the sound of the cocking of the revolver than Danny's shout. He skidded to a halt in the middle of the main street then slowly turned, making a quick assessment of his situation. With a sigh and a roll of his dark brown eyes he dropped the gunny sacks onto the hardened earth at his feet.
"Hands in the air, sonny," instructed Deputy Whitman, his gun aimed at Han and his grasp still firm on the younger boy's collar. "You and your friend here is under arrest."
Han pursed his lips and raised his hands in the air whilst casting an accusatory glare at his young partner in crime. Jed, however, was too busy struggling to free himself from the deputy's grip to notice Han's displeasure.
The commotion had started to attract a number of townsfolk, a couple of whom were helping to support the wheezing store owner.
"Looks like you've got your hands full there, Deputy," laughed the gunsmith, Max Sidwell, as he leaned against his shop doorway. "Need some help?"
"Wouldn't say no, Max. If you can take this here young fella I can get the cuffs on the other one." Danny Whitman was nothing if not committed to his job and although nothing bad ever happened in Serenity he always carried a pair of the new-fangled ratchet handcuffs in his back pocket, just in case.
Max stepped down from the boardwalk and took a firm hold of the wriggling boy. As the deputy loosened his grip on Jed's collar the boy saw his chance and took an almighty swing with his right arm catching Max square in the solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him and almost doubling him over. There were gasps from the ladies in the small group that had gathered out of curiosity but the odd chuckle could also be heard as a few of Max's drinking buddies enjoyed their friend's misfortune.
His hands still held high in the air, Han winced as Jed's fist connected with the gunsmith. Great, he thought, now we're in real trouble — theft and assault.
"No, Jed! Don't!" he shouted, knowing full well that now his cousin was riled he would probably throw another punch. He wasn't wrong.
Oblivious to Han's plea Jed attempted to follow up with another punch to the side of the man's face but this time his swinging left arm was grabbed by one of Max's friends and prevented from finding its mark.
While this drama unfolded nobody happened to notice the stranger in a long black coat and black derby standing in a shady recess on the opposite site of the street. He had watched with detached amusement until the youngster's wildly thrown punch and attempted follow-up aroused his interest.
Now that one of the culprits was under control Deputy Whitman holstered his gun and quickly pulled Han's hands behind him. And so it was the first, but certainly not the last time in his life, that Hannibal felt the cold hard metal of handcuffs as they fastened around his wrists. Tentatively, he tested them — they were tight.
"Move," came the order as Danny pushed him forward before stooping to pick up the two discarded gunny sacks.
"Hey, those are mine," cried Mister Todd, having now fully recovered his breath.
"Not right now they ain't. These is evidence, Mister Todd," said Danny, revelling in his first arrest. "I'm sure ya can have them back later but the Sheriff needs to see 'em first, to see what he stole."
Han's lank, unwashed hair flopped around his face as, head down, he trudged dismally along the street in front of the deputy. Max and his friend, holding an arm each of a still squirming Jed, followed along with Mister Todd. A couple of interested bystanders completed the unusual parade toward the sheriff's office.
Erle Dunbar had been a small-town lawman most of his adult life. He was a tall, man in his mid forties with light brown hair which was beginning to grey at the temples and steady pale blue eyes which demanded the truth from any villain he happened to come across.
As the office door was flung open Erle turned from the pot-belly stove where he was pouring himself a cup of coffee to see his young deputy manhandle a dark haired youth through the door. The boy was dressed in dusty brown pants held up by brown suspenders over a cream coloured shirt which had not seen a washtub in some considerable time. An equally grubby-looking boy with what he assumed were corn-coloured curls followed; his blue shirt and grey pants were wearing thin and looked to be a little small for him.
"Well now, what's all this?" he asked, as he regarded the two surly looking youngsters with curiosity.
"They're both under arrest, Sheriff," stated Danny as Mister Todd also stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
"Oh? What've they done?"
"They robbed my store, that's what," interjected Mister Todd crossly before Danny could answer his boss. "Rifled through my store room and tried to make off with half of it."
Han glowered at the man's exaggeration.
Deputy Whitman placed the two gunny sacks on the desk. "Here's the evidence, Sheriff." He nodded toward the older boy. "Caught this one red-handed. He was carryin' these here sacks and runnin' outta the back of Mr Todd's store."
"Chased after him myself," added Mister Todd, proudly.
"Is that right, young fella?" asked the sheriff, casting his eyes over Han.
When Han didn't answer straight away Deputy Whitman nudged him in the back. "Hey, answer the Sheriff when he asks y'all a question!"
Han closed his eyes and sighed inwardly. They had been in a few scrapes since leaving the Home but none of them came anywhere close to this. He certainly hadn't foreseen them getting caught this time, let alone ending up in jail.
"My cousin and me, we ain't ate in a while," he mumbled, looking down at his boots.
"Uh-huh." Sheriff Dunbar looked at the younger boy. "And you must be the cousin."
Still trying to shrug off the firm grip on his arms Jed sent the sheriff a defiant stare. Erle frowned as he tried to hide the smile that threatened to take hold of the corners of his mouth. This one certainly had attitude.
"Takes two of you to hold a scrawny kid like this?" he asked the two men.
"He's an ornery one and no mistake, Sheriff," said Max. "Managed to land a punch right here in my belly before we got hold of him proper."
"Ah, so that's why you're looking a little peaked, Max." Sheriff Dunbar allowed himself a faint smile as he pictured the gunsmith almost being floored by this slip of a boy. He turned his attention back to Jed.
"So, what's your part in all this, sonny?"
Jed stuck his chin out and stayed silent.
Danny laughed. "As I see it, this one was the lookout, but he weren't doin' a very good job. Caught him easy. Didn't see me 'til he was danglin' at the end of my arm."
Han sent his cousin a grumpy sideways glance but Jed was now too busy focussing a hard look at the deputy to notice.
"Well, let's see what you've got in here, shall we," said Erle. He took hold of the bottom of both gunny sacks and emptied their contents onto his desk.
As each item tumbled out of the sacks Han grimaced again as the extent of his crime became clear. Having easily picked the lock on the rear door of the mercantile he had spent as much time as he dared investigating the goods in the storeroom, carefully selecting just what they needed, before he was discovered by Mister Todd.
On the desk lay two small loaves of bread, a large piece of cheese, a good few handfuls of beef jerky, a jar of pickles and a box of crackers. Four shiny red apples rolled across the desk and landed on the floor. Mister Todd tutted — they would be bruised now. The women of the town had a keen eye and he would have to charge less for them. As well as the food there were candles and matches, two sets of boot laces, two pairs of socks, a pocketknife and a large bar of lye soap.
It was Jed's first chance to see his cousin's haul and he felt like groaning aloud at the sight of four strings of liquorice, two bars of chocolate and a bag of jelly beans as they too emerged from the sacks. His shoulders slumped and he stopped trying to wrestle himself free.
"Well, that's quite a collection," remarked the sheriff.
"I hope you're going to lock them up Sheriff, we don't want their sort on the streets of our town, thieving from hard-working folk and causing trouble," grumbled Mister Todd.
Han glanced at the store owner and then his eyes met Jed's. Seeing the dismay on his young cousin's face spurred him into speaking up.
"We never stole anything before, Sheriff," he lied. "It's just that, well...we ain't had anything to eat for days and we was desperate. My cousin here, he's been ill, real ill and I was just tryin' to get some food to build up his strength. Look, you can see how thin he is. He's almost wasted away. We did have a little money but we was robbed just outside of town and—"
"Okay boy, save the sob story." Erle shook his head and opened the top drawer of his desk. He tossed a ring of large iron keys towards his deputy. "Danny, lock 'em up will you. The one at the end with the two cots," he jerked his thumb casually in the direction of the cells.
"Aaww, you don't need to go lockin' us up," groaned Han as Danny gave him a nudge, grabbed Jed by the arm and ushered them both through to the jail. "We won't do it again, we promise. We'll be real good. Model citizens in fact, won't we, Jed?" Han looked over his shoulder at his cousin his eyes widening, telling Jed he'd better say something — he needed some support here.
"Oh, oh...sure," stuttered Jed, following Han's lead. "We won't do anythin' like it again - ever!"
Both boys were thrust into a cell and the door slammed shut with an ominous clang. The sound of the key as it turned in the lock imprinting itself indelibly in Hannibal's memory.
Jed slumped down onto one of the cots but Han stood still not knowing what to do with his wrists still cuffed.
"Back yourself up to the bars and give me your hands," ordered the deputy.
Han did as instructed and was relieved to feel the metal of the handcuffs loosen, allowing him to pull his hands free. He stood rubbing his wrists.
Sheriff Dunbar shook hands with Max and his friend, thanked them for their trouble and showed them out.
"So, what happens now?" asked the shopkeeper. "I need to get back to my store. My wife is there but I don't want to leave her on her own for too long."
"Well, Mister Todd, I have to take a full statement from you but we can do that a little later. How 'bout I come over just before closing?" He followed Mister Todd's gaze. "You can have your goods back then too. I'll bring them along with me."
"That will be just fine, Sheriff." Mister Todd hurried back to his waiting customers.
Strolling back to the occupied cell Sheriff Dunbar stood next to his deputy with his hands on his hips frowning at the two miscreants.
"Now, as you two are gonna mean me having to do a lot of paperwork, which I ain't real happy about, I think you'd better start by telling me your names."
Jed stared straight ahead and stayed tight-lipped. Han briefly considered making something up but, the way his cousin had performed today he obviously couldn't be trusted to remember a false name, so he dismissed the idea. It wasn't as if they had a criminal record — until today — he thought bitterly.
"I'm Hannibal Heyes," he said, before tilting his head toward the blond. "He's Jedediah Curry."