SALT IN THE WOUND
"Heyes," Kid called softly, unable to exert any more strength to his voice.
There was no response from his sleeping partner.
"Heyes," Kid called a little louder.
When he still received no reply, Kid tried in vain to shift himself from his back to his left side in his bedroll so he'd be facing his sleeping partner. But the sharp pains in his backside prevented him from making any major body adjustements.
"Damn it Heyes, wake up!" Kid called in as loud a voice as he could muster.
Sleepy brown eyes fluttered open and Heyes moaned as he pushed himself up on his elbow and looked at his partner lying supine in his bedroll.
"What's the matter, Kid? You hurting?""
"It's bleeding again," Kid replied.
Heyes sighed heavily. "You sure?"
"Well if it ain't, it's something worse, cause there's something warm and sticky squirming around in my long johns," Kid snarled.
Heyes rolled his eyes in disgust but pulled himself out of his bedroll to examine Kid's wound.
The wound was the result of an accident sustained earlier that afternoon, after they had made camp for the night. Together Kid and Heyes had ventured off to hunt some supper. They never hunted small game together, but the camp had been readied, the horses tended, and there was no nearby stream or lake for bathing. So they had little else to do.
They were no more than sixtyt yards apart when Heyes spied two rabbits and fired off two quick shots, the first hitting it's intended target. But the second shot ricocheted off a rock and struck Kid where, as Kid described it "a person meets the saddle."
Heyes had helped Kid limp back to camp where Heyes had been able to remove the not too deeply embedded bullet, and had sewn the wound shut with a couple of stitches. Since they had no whiskey to dull the pain of surgery, Kid had squirmed and hollered throughout the process but, luckily for Kid, and unfortunately for Heyes, Kid had not passed out.
Kid had forgone pants for the night, in an effort to avoid any more visible blood stains and Heyes had used canteen water to scrub the stain out of Kid's jeans. They were drying on a rock by the fire.
Heyes pulled some clean cloths from his saddle bags, picked up the canteen, and tromped over to his partner.
"What are you doing lying on your back? That just puts pressure on the wound," Heyes griped.
"I must have rolled over in my sleep," Kid explained. "Don't mean to complicate things for you, Heyes. Ain't like you're responsible for this or nothing."
"Humph," Heyes retorted and bent down beside of Kid to assess how best to move him, al the while glaring at him in a snarly manner.
"Okay, I gotta get you rolled over on your side."
Kid nodded, knowing it would not be comfortable process. Heyes put a hand on Kid's shoulder and another on Kid's thigh and pulled him over as quickly as he could, all the while, Kid grimaced and cursed Heyes profusely.
"Damn it Heyes, you don't have to be so rough!" Kid shouted.
"I ain't being rough, Kid. I'm being quick. Getting the worst over fast for you."
"Oh, 'preciate the concern, Heyes," with a roll of his blue eyes.
Heyes peered over Kid's hip to his backside. Sure enough there was a sizable bloodstain on the long johns.
"Gonna have to get the long johns off," Heyes said.
"Just pull em down far enough to get a fresh bandage on my butt. With a dry bandage between me and the underwear, I'll be fine for the rest of the night," Kid argued.
Heyes saw no reason to argue. If Kid was willing to sleep like that, who was Heyes to argue?
Pulling himself to his feet, Heyes stepped over Kid to work from the backside.
"Lift your hip so I can get these down enough to work," Heyes instructed.
Kid winced as he raised his hip a few inches off the ground and Heyes slid the long johns down just far enough to get the old bandage off, wash the wound with some water, and get a new bandage in place.
"Okay, lift your hip again and I'll get these pulled up."
Kid did and again winced more from the effort than from the actual discomfort.
"How does it look?" Kid asked.
"Probably better than it feels," Heyes replied.
"It feels miserable."
"Well I'm done, so you can go back to sleep. But stay on your side," Heyes said, again stepping over his partner and carrying the soiled bandage into the woods, away from the camp. Kid just pulled the blanket up over him and tried to find a semi-comfortable position.
"Hope those long johns don't attract a bear in the night," Heyes said, intentionally trying to goad his partner.
But Kid was already asleep.
The next morning, Kid was able to struggle out of the long johns and into his jeans, and Heyes was able to shove Kid's boots onto his feet, but it took both of them time and effort to get Kid standing up on his feet.
"You think you can ride a horse, Kid?" Heyes asked.
"If we can get both my feet in the stirrups, I think I can ride standing up, Heyes. But we'll have to go slow, and probably not very far today."
After a night's sleep, and seeing Kid's struggle, Heyes was feeling a bit guilty for Kid's injury.
"You know I didn't mean for that to happen, Kid," Heyes said.
Kid nodded. "Ah, it ain't your fault you're such a bad aim, Heyes."
Heyes looked at Kid questioningly.
"Well, alright, it is your fault you're such a bad aim, but I know you didn't mean to do it," Kid explained.
With considerable struggle by both men, they managed to get Kid standing in both stirrups.
"Heyes, you realize if a posse comes on us and starts chasing us, I'm gonna be a nice size moving target standing up like this."
"Kid, if a posse starts chasing us today, I promise I won't let you get shot. We'll just bring the horses to a halt and surrender."
"I don't know how you do it, Heyes."
"Do what?"
"Come up with all them brilliant ideas. That's gotta be one of your better ones," Kid said sarcastically.
"You sure can be proddy when you're hurting, Kid."
They had only traveled a few miles when they came to a wooden marker indicating the town of Misery was just four miles to the south.
"Who would name a town Misery?" Heyes pondered aloud.
"Maybe somebody else who got shot where a person meets the saddle," Kid replied.
Heyes just sighed and shook his head. "Come on, Kid. Let's just hope there's a hotel in Misery."
"With a plump, soft feather bed, Heyes."
When they reached the outskirts of town and Kid pulled his horse to a stop.
"What are we stopping here for?" Heyes asked.
"If my dismount is anything like my mount this morning, I'm not getting off this horse in the middle of town for everyone to see," Kid said adamantly. "Now come over here and help me down."
Again Heyes sighed heavily. He tried to be patient, but Kid was really getting on his nerves. But he dutifully dismounted and walked over to help Kid out of the saddle. The process was every bit as awkward and clumsy as the mount had been that morning, and both men came very close to falling and landing on their butts in the dirt.
"There, you happy now, Kid?"
Kid grabbed the reins of his horse and took a few timid steps to test his ability to walk.
Heyes stood behind and watched him, and couldn't help but smile at Kid's bow-legged limping gait. "You're right, Kid, that walk of yours won't attract any attention whatsoever. Not one person in that town is gonna give you a second glance."
Kid turned and snarled at Heyes but continued on his way down the street. Heyes grabbed his sorrel's reins and caught up with his partner.
As luck would have it, there was a hotel in Misery. Heyes made sure the room had two beds as he was quite sure he would intentionally kick Kid in the butt more than once if they had to share a bed.
They walked up the stairs slowly, Kid taking one step at a time and always leading with his good leg.
"You want to see about some supper, Kid?"
Despite his discomfort, Kid was hungry, something Heyes took as a good sign.
"Let's see if the saloon serves food. I can eat standing at the bar that way," Kid suggested.
Kid managed, but was as awkward going down the stairs as he was up the stairs, and he hobbled slowly behind Heyes to the saloon.
"Two steaks, medium rare and two whiskeys," Heyes ordered at the bar. "And keep the whiskey coming to my friend here," Heyes added, hoping that an inebriated wounded Kid was less snarly than just a wounded Kid.
"You paying for all them drinks?" Kid asked, ready to cancel the order if the answer was no."
"Kid, if it will help numb that pain in your ass, then yes I am," Heyes replied with as affectionate smile as he could muster.
Kid's attitude softened just a bit. "Well thanks, Heyes," Kid said and downed the first whiskey in one gulp. "Another one, please," he told the bartender.
By the fifth or maybe the sixth whiskey, Kid was drunk enough to be able to sit in a chair, so Heyes got Kid tucked away in a corner table and told the bartender to slow it down with the drinks. Then Heyes went off to a poker table.
A few hours later and a few dollars richer, Heyes called it a night, only to find Kid face down on the table, passed out from the whiskey.
"Could somebody help me get him over to the hotel?" Heyes asked, and one of the men he'd played poker with, volunteered.
After struggling up the stairs with a drunk partner who who had no idea what his feet and legs were used for, they plopped Kid in the bed.
"Would you help me roll him over on his belly? He's got an injured backside," Heyes explained..
The man obliged and Heyes walked him to the door and thanked him for his help. Heyes then walked back to Kid's bed and struggled to get his holster unfastened and his boots off. Then he threw a sheet over his sleeping partner and readied himself for bed.
It was nearly noon the next day when Kid woke, and the pain in his head was in major competition with the pain in his backside. Squinting heavily to block as much sunlight as possible, Kid ever so carefully moved his legs off the bed and eased himself up to sit on the edge of the bed.
"Morning, Kid," Heyes said greeting him cheerfully while sitting at the table reading a book.
Kid glowered at Heyes. "You did this to me, Heyes," Kid growled.
"Kid, you decided how much to drink last night. I just paid for it."
Kid ignored his partner's comment, but a look of great concern suddenly spread across his face.
"Ut-oh,"
"Something wrong?" Heyes asked, suddenly a little worried about his partner.
"Heyes, I've got to pee...Right Now!"
"I'll help you down the stairs, Kid," Heyes assured him as he got up and walked over to the bed.
"No time for that, Heyes. I won't make it to the privy in time; not as slow as I'm walking." Kid said urgently.
Heyes looked around the room and spied the chamber pot under his bed.
"Help me up!" Kid snarled, fumbling with the buttons on his pants. "Come on, Heyes. Hurry up!"
Heyes grabbed Kid's arm and helped him stand and steady himself.
When Kid was ready, Heyes handed him the chamber pot and turned away.
"Let me know when you're done," Heyes said.
"Here, take it," Kid grumbled and held the chamber pot out to Heyes whose entire face pinched in disgust as he reluctantly took the container from his partner and then set the pot down on the floor.
"While you're standing, Kid, maybe we ought to take a look at that bandage. It's been on for more than a full day."
Though feeling miserable, Kid did see the logic and nodded his head in agreement.
Heyes got a clean bandage from his saddlebags and set to work removing the old dressing, washing the wound, and applying a new bandage.
"How's it look?" Kid asked, carefully pulling up his pants.
"Bruised and kind of puckered, but not infected. How's it feeling?"
"Sore," Kid replied and gently sat back down on the bed.
Heyes felt a pang of guilt over Kid's situation. After all, it was Heyes' bullet that ricocheted..
Why don't I go get you some breakfast, or maybe at this hour, some lunch, Kid?"
"That would be nice. Thanks," Kid replied and eased himself back down on the bed.
Heyes returned a half hour later and woke Kid to eat. Kid just pulled himself up in the bed leaned against the headboard and Heyes handed him a plate and fork.
Kid picked at the food and ate a few bites, but the hangover was still running full throttle and his stomach was simply not ready for the invasion. Kid glanced at Heyes and noticed Heyes was studying him carefully.
"What?" Kid asked
"Oh nothing, just thinking about all your stupid, dumb luck?"
"Are you calling me stupid again, Heyes?"
"What do you mean, again?"
Heyes was growing proddy again, but Kid's proddy seemed to already be in full bloom.
"Don't try to deny it, Heyes. Every time something goes wrong, if you can find a way to make it my fault, you start in with it being a stupid idea."
"The idea may be stupid, but I don't recall ever saying you're stupid."
"Really? Well most recently was just a few weeks ago when we was waiting for the stupid bust for McCreedy!"
"I didn't call you stupid!"
"Heyes, you out and out called me stupid, and right in front of that Minister, Spencer."
"Well, maybe I did, Kid. But that was only because you was so damn stubborn, you couldn't even see the danger of wearing your gun!"
If he could have, Kid would have stormed out of the room. Instead, he scooted down into the bed, turned away from Heyes, and pulled the sheet up over his head.
"Humph. You're just trying to pour salt in the wound, ain't you Heyes? Just trying to get me all riled, ain't you?" Why, Heyes? "Why you being so proddy?"
Kid's accusations just riled Heyes even more.
"Okay, Kid. I'm sorry. I never meant to call you stupid. But you got to admit, some of your ideas are pretty stupid," the frustration in his voice escalating.
"You want to talk about stupid ideas, do you?" Kid shouted from beneath the bed sheet. "Let's talk about dragging a safe halfway up a mountain just to drop it off the edge of a cliff!"
"How about saving a bounty hunter out to get us, not just once, not twice, but three times!" Now that was stupid!"
"How about trying to blow up the bank in Porterville, and moving the supplies on pulleys across the tops of two buildings, so anyone on the street that might look up, could see us!"
Heyes opened his mouth to offer an angry retort, but stopped suddenly and looked at the lump of his partner beneath the sheet on the bed.
"Kid," Heyes said softly.
"What?" Kid replied, equally softly.
"Maybe we're both just a couple of stupid ex-outlaws."
Kid smiled beneath the sheet. "Could be worse Heyes," he replied
"How?" Heyes asked.
"Could be a couple of still active stupid outlaws."
It was Heyes' turn to smile.
"Kid?"
"Yeah?"
"I am sorry my bullet hit you, and I am sorry I got you drunk last night and hit with a hangover this morning, and I'm sorry your still hurting from both of those things now."
Again Kid smiled beneath the sheet. It was fun to successfully guilt-trip his partner once in a while.
"Ah, getting drunk weren't bad, Heyes. At least I could sit down for a spell."
Heyes sighed. "You know, I think we might just be in the perfect place right now, Kid."
"How's that?"
"They way you're feeling, and the name of this town..."
"Misery," they said in unison.