Saddle Talk: A Dark and Stormy Night

"It was a dark and stormy night …"

"No, it ain't, Heyes. It's a nice day."

Hannibal Heyes took his eyes off the trail to regard his partner. "You're right, Kid. It's a bright and beautiful day."

"Right. So why ya talkin' about some dark and gloomy night?"

"Dark and stormy night, Kid. I was just thinking about the opening line of the book I'm reading."

Jed "Kid" Curry thought a moment. "Oh, the one with the wind and the rain and the housetops in London you were readin' to me?"

"Yup."

"It has too many fancy words. I told ya not to bother because it had a hard time gettin' to the point."

Heyes chuckled. "It said what it had to say."

Curry would have none of it. "Nah. It had all those fancy words for just sayin' it was windy and rainin' hard."

"That's how a lot of writers write, Kid – nice and descriptive."

The blond ex-outlaw raised a brow. "Well, it's not how this writer writes."

"You're not a writer."

"Sure I am, and so are you. We write telegrams, notes, all sorts of stuff like that."

Heyes yanked the reins to sidestep a big rut in the road, before turning his attention back to the conversation. "But I'm talking about writing a book. We're not writers like that."

"Well, that fancy stuff ain't needed. All you need to do is get the point across, short and sweet-like." Curry reminisced. "You remember that time you wrote that fancy-soundin' robbery note?"

Heyes got defensive. "I was reading a book of poetry and wanted to be a little poetic."

"And you were so good at it, the teller had no idea what he was readin' and asked you to explain it, and we lost so much time, we had to hightail it outta there before they could get the sheriff." Curry laughed.

Heyes rolled his eyes. "That was early on, Kid. I never made that mistake again. And might I remind you that was the last time we tried a daylight holdup?"

"Just teasin' ya, Heyes. No need for any notes after that."

"But if we would've tried another daylight robbery, the note would've been short, sweet, and to the point."

"I know. Wasn't it around that time you started likin' Mark Twain? He pretty much gets to the point and doesn't write that fancy, so you would've taken a lesson from him instead of some fancy poetry book."

"Nothing wrong with poetry, Kid."

"Didn't say there was."

Heyes noted, "And Mark Twain uses fancy language every now and again."

Curry pondered this. "Yeah, but it's more like real life."

"None of it's real life. It's all fiction."

Kid Curry hid a mischievous grin from his partner by looking straight ahead. "Friction, Heyes? If it's such a dark and stormy night, we won't be able to make any kind of fire."

"No, Kid, not friction … fiction."

"Friction … that's what I said!"

"Now, don't go getting proddy on me. I said 'fiction.' It's kind of like a made-up story."

Curry put a hand to his face to stifle a chuckle, composing himself before continuing. "Like Tom Sawyer?"

Heyes was well into explanatory mode now. "Yeah. Tom Sawyer is fiction."

"I thought Tom Sawyer was a boy."

"He is, but that's also the name of a fiction book."

Curry bit his tongue, on purpose. He pretended to reason. "So fiction's just another name for books? Never heard them called that before. Sounds like more fancy words instead of just callin' a book a book!"

"Well, Kid, a book is a book. But not all books are fiction."

"Huh?"

"Some books are fiction, and some are non-fiction."

So absorbed was Heyes in speaking, he did not notice Kid's merriment. On a roll, Curry's eyes danced, and he dared not look at his partner.

"Is that like make-believe books? It doesn't make any sense."

"You're right. It doesn't make any sense because there are no make-believe books because they're real and you can hold them in your hand. But there are books that are make-believe, and that's fiction."

"So, there're books that ain't fiction?"

"Yup. They're non-fiction."

"So what kinds ain't fiction?"

"Anything that's not made up."

"For instance?"

Heyes' countenance reflected deep thought. "Hmm, well – philosophy, archie-ology – that sorta thing."

"They're not fiction?"

"Non-fiction."

"That what's I said!"

"No, Kid. You said 'not,' with a 't,' and it should be 'non,' with an 'n.'"

"Non-fiction?"

"That's right."

"So, a dime novel …"

"Is fiction."

"But what if it's true?"

"Then it's non-fiction, but a novel is made up."

"Okay, so I read non-fiction."

Heyes corrected him. "No, Kid. Most dime novels are made up, so they're fiction most of the time."

"Most of the time. But sometimes they might be true."

Heyes smirked. "Doubtful. They might have had some basis in fact, but by the time the writer's done with the story, it's a far cry from the truth."

Curry could no longer contain himself and burst out laughing. "I know, Heyes."

The dark-haired man gave him the side-eye. "Yeah, you should know this stuff. So why all the questions? Playing dumb?"

"Just tryin' to josh ya, Joshua!"

Heyes smiled. "You're not getting my goat, Kid."

"Ain't I, Heyes? Ya keep gettin' mine. What's the old sayin', turnabout is fair play?"

"Kid, a turnabout's also a merry-go-round."

"That's nice. Now don't go startin' again."

"It was a dark and stormy night …"