Smoke & Water, part Six: up in smoke

by Wichita Red

For the past week, Heyes and Kid had camped on the ridge above Shelby, putting their feet up and watching the sleepy town from afar. It hadn't taken long to learn the routines of the townsfolk and more importantly that of the Sheriff's Office.

The second day, had been amusing, for this is when the road weary, disgruntled posse had trailed back in empty-handed. Heyes had pointed out, Deputy John Hickman, as the one who had Kid's prized Colt. Although, as he did this, he had not expanded on how much pleasure John also took in tormenting him about Kid's death and him being the low-life who had killed his own partner.

Last night, when the Sheriff and Deputy Hickman had hauled a couple of drunks into the brig. Kid had said, they would be good cover, allowing them to surprise the lawmen. But, Heyes had shook his head against the idea. He found he had no ill feelings toward Sheriff Carter and did not want to set the record straight by knocking him down. But, Deputy John Hickman that was another matter all together.

And, now that chance had arrive. Heyes stood, when he saw Sheriff Carter wave good-bye and step off the porch of his office. As the man sauntered along the boardwalk toward his home, through the late orange glow of the setting sun, Heyes' smile grew large. And, slipping through the trees, he found Kid half-asleep, his back to a large ponderosa pine. "Pssst..."

The gunslinger came alert, no evidence of sleep grogginess hanging on him.

"It's time."

"Only Hickman there?"

Heyes nodded, smiling, but it was not the type of smile to ease a person's way of thinking.

The purple gloom of dark was blanketing them as they tightened the cinches and swung aboard their horses.

"You realize, I could do this alone, Heyes."

"But what would be the fun in that?"

"It'd be safer."

Heyes shrugged, "I want to see the look on Hickman's face."

Kid tilted his head at his partner, raising an eyebrow.

Kicking his horse, Heyes pointed the gelding toward town, ignoring what Kid was leaving unsaid.

Shelby had rolled up its streets at dusk and with it being Sunday, they were even more empty than usual. The moon peeking over the far trees cast pale, short, shadows of Heyes and Kid across the ground, where they rode along behind the buildings. As they neared the jail, the scent of new wood filled their noses and before them stood the gallows, stark and ghastly in the weak light.

Kid's brows dropped, his blue eyes crawled across the structure, "gives me the chills."

The corner of Heyes' mouth turned down, his nose wrinkling in synch with the arching of his eyebrow and swinging down, he tied his horse to the gallows hand railing, "Makes a fine hitching post though."

Kid snorted, hopping down and hitching his horse alongside his partners.

Walking up the alley between the Jail and the neighboring building, Heyes glanced back at his partner. Both of his dimples were creased deeply and his eyes sparking with mischief. Kid took a steadying deep breath, because he knew his partner was fixing to make this entertaining for himself, which meant he needed to be on guard.

"Wait here." Heyes said, pointing to a spot just outside the door. Twisting the door knob hard and fast, he leapt in with his pistol pointing straight at the desk.

This so startled John that he yelped, his arms shooting out, sending his coffee cup flying from the desk to spatter the wall and floor with its dark fluid.

Heyes drawled, "good to see you."

John Hickman, looked all about him as if he expected there to be someone else in the room, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, thought you might be missing me."

"Your off your rocker showing up here." John growled, his hand slipping toward the edge of the desk.

"Uh huh, I wouldn't be doing that."

John froze, his gray eyes narrowing, "What do you want?"

"My gear and..." Heyes' eyes slanted toward the door, his grin growing, more boastful if one could describe a grin that way. "...I thought you might like to meet my pal."

And, in stepped Kid Curry.

John's eyes flew wide, "You ain't...can't be..he's dead."

Then Kid's pistol was in his hand before either John or Heyes saw the movement and he took a step closer to the desk, "Now a man always shoots a mite better with his own sidearm, but do you think, I could nail you right through that badge?"

The whole scenario upset John so much, that the tips of his fingers turned white where they pressed into the top of the desk.

Watching his partner, Heyes' smile softened into one of complete satisfaction.

"Walk on out here. Just think strong on not making any moves that might excite me." Kid stated, in the icy voice he used when he wanted others to back down and show their bellies.

As John inched around the desk with his hands, well above his head, his holster came into sight and in it hung Kid's Peacemaker. Stepping forward, Heyes plucked the Colt from the skid, "Told you, he'd be coming to take this back." Slipping the gun, behind his back, Heyes tucked it into his beltline. But as he did so, his jaw tightened, his lips pursed tight and his eyes became darker than the night outside.

"Heyes..." Kid warned.

But even as Kid spoke, Heyes' mouth twisted, his left dimple flickering like a sheet snapping on a clothes line, and his balled up fist landed in the center of John's face.

The Deputy absorbed the blow and quivered back-and-forth on his heels before crumpling to the floor, blood streaming from his fractured nose.

Heyes loomed over him, both fists tight.

Softly, Kid said, "Heyes."

This time his partner exhaled, pushing his hat back on his head, "John, anyone ever tell you, taunting a man when he is down is the lowest form of humanity."

"Humanity?" John blubbered, smearing the blood across his face with the back of his hand. "What's humanity?"

Hannibal Heyes rolled his eyes and snorted out a short laugh, "Never mind. Where is my gear?"

"Sheriff put it in the safe." John pointed toward the corner, "You can beat me all you like, I ain't got the combination."

Kid broke out into a warm laugh, "Damn, Heyes, what you gonna do, no combo and all?"

"Sure don't know." Heyes laughed, striding over to the safe and nestling up to it.

Kid realized the front door was hanging a touch ajar and he kicked it shut with his boot. It banged in the frame and Heyes threw a twisted sneer at his partner, who only shrugged his shoulders, but his brows dropped low over his eyes in a way each of them understood was an apology.

Snuggling back in, Heyes ran the dial slowly, feeling each infinitesimal motion the metal made. His teeth drug in his upper lip, letting it slowly slip free, the dial moving, moving then the grin began to rise and he reached for the handle. The click of the door opening was loud in the silent room. Digging out his saddle bags, jacket, boot knife, and holster, Heyes asked, "where's my Schofield?"

John's eyes darted to Heyes and back to Kid standing over him, "I...uhm...I sold it."

"You really did!?" Heyes asked.

"Yeah, figured it would go down in value once you were labeled a back-shooter." His eyes flicked again to Kid, "So, I sold it right off."

"How much did you get for it?"

John swallowed, "a hundred."

"That all?"

A barking laugh exploded from Kid, earning him a sour look from his cousin.

"Well, you were brought in for murdering your partner. People didn't like that much." John said.

"But, like I kept saying," Heyes pointed at Kid, "I didn't murder him." Putting his hands on his hips, Heyes shook his head, "Well, fork it over."

"What?" John gasped, pushing a bit away. "I ain't got that much left."

Kid kicked him in the sole of his boot, "Stand up and empty your pockets."

Doing as he was told, John peeked over at the outlaws, "I thought y'all only robbed banks and trains, not citizens."

Popping him on the side of the head, anger darkening his eyes again, Heyes barked, "We ain't robbing you. You owe me the price of a Schofield. What do you think they go for now, Kid?"

Kid tilted his head to the side, "Seventeen..twenty dollars."

Removing thirty dollars from John's wallet, Heyes winked at him, "need some cartridges and a drink or two, you don't mind do you?"

"That's fine, Mr. Heyes."

"Oh, it's Mister now." Heyes sucked in his lower lip, his fists bunching up again.

Kid coughed and when Heyes looked into his blue eyes, Kid shook his head.

Snagging a pair of handcuffs from the hook on the wall, Heyes jabbed John's thin chest, "Turn around."

Hanging his head, John turned, allowing himself to be manacled.

"Let's store you away." Heyes said, picking up the large ring of keys from the desktop. Slipping the thickest one in the cell block door, he pushed it open. The metal door screeched hideously and Heyes' dark eyes squinched up so tight they disappeared. "uh huh..." he muttered to himself and went to rummage in his saddle bags. Returning with a small oil can which he studiously applied to the hinges. Standing back, he swung the door open and closed. It glided soft as a feather on the wind, not a sound from it and a content laugh rolled from him, "finally."

Through it all, John and Kid stared at him, Kid's face pinching up in confusion, "sometimes I really don't understand you."

Heyes winked at him with a large smile, thinking of how tired he had gotten of listening to that screech.

Slipping the oil can in the pocket of his tan jacket, Heyes walked on down the hallway with Kid herding John along behind him.

"This looks like a good spot." Heyes said, opening the door to his own jail cell.

As John walked by, Heyes stopped him and pulled the man's bandana off, retying it about his mouth. "Don't want you drawing any un-needed attention." He stated, shoving him the rest of the way in, shutting and locking the gate with a click of the keys.

The two men in the opposite cell, stood avidly watching all that was going on. When one of them said, "Your Hannibal Heyes, I saw you in the courtroom."

Heyes' dimples popped into place and Kid rolled his eyes, always amazed how much his partner enjoyed the attention.

"You should be hung, you skunk! What kind of low, vermin kills his own partner, especially a man the likes of Kid Curry."

This time it was Kid who smiled and stepping forward said, "Being as I am Kid Curry, I'd appreciate you not speaking to my partner that way."

The man's round face fell slack, "Is you really?"

The other man grabbed hold of the bars with his grubby hands, "Prove it."

"What...you want me to shoot you?"

They both fell back, one of them gulping out, "Hell, no."

Kid's boyish grin appeared and plucking his Colt from the back of Heyes' pant line with his left hand. He border passed it with the gun he had been using. Then spinning his own Colt twice more, he dropped it in the holster and popped it right back out in to firing position, before putting it away for real.

"By God, you have to be him." the first one said.

Kid tipped his hat.

"Come on show off." Heyes mumbled, starting for the block door.

"Heyes, hey, Heyes let us out." the second one called.

"Sorry, can't be doing that," Heyes answered, hurrying his step.

"Kid?" the first called. "You wouldn't leave us here would you?"

"What are you in for?"

"They say we got a bit too rowdy."

"Well, you'll be out soon enough." Kid replied, stopping at the block door, he leaned against the frame. "Side, you leave with us, you would be in a world of trouble. Wouldn't want that for you." Smiling his boyish grin, he tipped his hat and shut the block door.

Going to the desk, Kid rummaged around in it until he found the stub of a pencil. From the wall, he tore down their posters. On his own, he scribbled, 'please tell Judge Cooper, my partner is too honest to shoot anyone in the back and that I am still alive and shooting. Jedediah Kid Curry.'

Heyes shook his head as he watched his pal, "you ready?"

"Yup." Kid stood, pulling his gloves on.

Taking up the can of kerosene by the wall, "then grab that box of matches off the ledge."

The box rattled as Kid snagged it, but not a word was passed between the two of them as they walked out the door, shutting it behind them. Heyes looked up and down the empty street. "This sure is a nice, quiet place, too bad we were recognized. Would have enjoyed holing up here for a while."

"Way it always goes for us." Kid mumbled, stepping off the boardwalk into the alley that lead back to their horses.

The moon was a bright crescent in the sky, its light hardly illuminating the back of the jail. Untying his horse, Heyes traded Kid his reins for the box of matches.

"You sure this is a good idea?"

Heyes only looked to the gallows. Placing a foot on the first step, he licked his lips and took each step slowly, watching them as if they might rear up and bite him at any minute. Pulling the lid from the kerosene can, he set to pouring it all over the deck.

Kid asked, "which way we leaving?"

"Through the center of town." Heyes pointed north, "Sheriff Carter's place is that way." Backing down the stairs, he trailed the strong smelling liquid after him, before tossing the can aside. Opening the box of matches, he stuck three in the corner of his mouth and laid the box on a step. Striking one of the matches, he tossed it in the box.

It spluttered and went out.

Frowning, he struck a second, tossing it in.

The box hissed, the other matches igniting, the kerosene caught and orange, blue fire expanded, leaping up the steps.

Chewing on his bottom lip, Heyes tossed the last match toward the rising flames. He could feel the heat on his face, the wood was snapping and behind the horses pawed snorting. But, he remained frozen mesmerized by the way the fire crept up the wooded structure, devouring the death Shelby had built for him. Turning it all into nothing more than a thick, black column of smoke.

"Come on, Heyes."

Jerking from his trance, Heyes ran over laughing and leaping on his gelding, they raced for Main Street, where the two of them hollered, "Fire. Fire."

All throughout Shelby, doors slammed open, excited voices filling the night. And, pulling up in front of the Sheriff's house, Heyes and Curry met the man at his yard gate, still pulling on clothes.

"Hey, Sheriff Carter." Heyes called jovially, tipping his hat back. "Just wanted to stop by to say, I enjoyed visiting your lil' town. But, Kid here." He jabbed a thumb toward his pal and Kid nodded a hello. "Was missing me, so it's time for me to head on my way."

"What! You!" Sheriff Carter blustered, his wide eyes darting from one brazen outlaw to the other.

The pair of them laughed, touched their hats, and laid heels to their horses haunches took off.

"If you got any common sense you won't come within a hundred miles of my town, Hannibal Heyes." Eli Carter bellowed, running out into the street. "That goes for you too, Curry."

Over the pounding hooves, Kid yelled, "suppose we should put his name on the list of lawmen to avoid."

Laughing, Heyes yelled back, "Might be smart to do so."

The end...well, at least of this adventure.