Kid Curry sat among the rocks along the shore of Lake Bigler, His knees drawn up and his arms wrapped around his calves, trying to keep himself calm and quite, and all his attention focused on just sucking some air into his lungs. A high pitched whistle erupted from his throat with every rapid, shallow breath he took.
Heyes stood nearby, close enough to know if things got worse, but not so close as to make him feel crowded or closed in. He had laid the whiskey bottle down next Kid who always seemed to know when the time was right for a slug of whiskey to be helpful. Kid told Heyes once that the right time was always just after he could feel his chest start to loosen just a tad. He said before that time, his throat was always too tight to swallow it down.
Poor Kid. As far back as either could remember Kid had bad bouts of not being able to breathe, not being able to suck the air in, and whistling every time he took a breath. It wasn't like he was sick with a cold or pneumonia, nothing like that. These were, and still are, short little episodes lasting anywhere from a few minutes to an hour, sometimes more.
Kid's folks had taken him to the doctor more than once when he was a boy and the doctor always told them to give him strong coffee, alcohol, or tobacco. The doctor had said not to breathe in the smoke of the tobacco, but to just hold the smoke in his mouth as long as he could.
Well, being just a boy, Kid was none to fond of any of these remedies and sometimes, especially when the alcohol was being offered, Kid's Pa would literally hold him down tight in a chair and grab a fistful of the boy's curls in one hand and pull Kid's head back so his Ma could pour a half shot of whiskey in his mouth, then cover his mouth with her hand to make him swallow. This would throw Kid into bouts of hard coughing and it seemed to Heyes that all that accomplished was to made the breathing harder.
Now, all grown up and having been dealing with these episodes nigh on twenty-five years, Kid had figured out what worked best for him, so Heyes would just leave him be, but would stay close by just in case he was needed.
Kid always said when these attacks happen, it feels like there's a horse or a mule on either side of him, just backing up against him, pushing his chest and lungs together as tight as they can.
When Heyes finally saw Kid's hand reach for the bottle, Heyes breathed a sigh of relief, As Kid slugged down a swallow, Heyes walked up behind him to catch the bottle when he set it back down again because Kid never thought to put the cork back in. Once he took that swig, Heyes knew it would be another five minutes or so till Kid was breathing easier again and they could be on our way.
"Sorry, Heyes," Kid said as he slowly pulled himself to his feet and brushed the bits of sand from his pants.
"That one looked kind of bad, Kid."
"I think it's just this cold air, and maybe being up so high in the mountains," Kid replied and started making his way back to his horse.
"When was the last time you seen a doctor for it? Maybe there's some new treatment for it."
"Treatment I'm using works just fine," Kid replied as he settled himself into his saddle.
Heyes decided not to argue with his partner as he'd seen a heated argument throw him in to one of those spells before. So he made a little clicking sound with his tongue and his teeth and the sorrel began a slow gait southward toward Carson City. Kid gave his chestnut a slight gaff and and fell into place behind Heyes.
"Heyes, why is it that every time you find us a job, it's a ranch hand or cattle drive job?"
Heyes smiled. "Cause I know how much you like working with animals," he called back to his partner.
"So, you do it outta spite, then?"
"I do it cause we need the money. Simple as that."
"Uh-uh."
"Besides, I don't see you coming up with any better ideas."
"I still think that transporting payroll job sounded good."
"I'm sure that is a good job. I am equally sure that they check you out for any criminal background."
"But Smith and Jones don't have no criminal background, that's the point."
"No, the point is that Smith and Jones don't have any background what so ever. That alone is going to draw some suspicion."
Kid just snorted. "Mending fences and busting wild horses ain't my idea of the ideal job. You know, sometimes Heyes..." Kid let his voice trail off without finishing the thought.
"Sometimes what?"
"Nothing. Don't matter."
"I'm interested, Kid. Sometimes what?"
"Sometimes I think it was a mistake to give up outlawing. There, I said it. You happy now?"
"Are you serious?"
Kid hesitated while thinking about what he had just said.
"Outlawing the way it was. I know it ain't the same now."
Heyes shook his head. "Nope, it's down right dangerous now. With telegraphs in every town now, near impossible to get away. Hell, I've heard of some trains carrying big payloads put a posse right on the train, horses and all."
"I know. That's why I said the way it use to be. But going straight hasn't done us any favors. We ain't any better off now that we was then. Maybe even worse off. At least back in our outlaw days, we had money and a safe place to go."
Heyes couldn't argue that point. Kid was right. They weren't any better off. In fact they were much worse off financially, and there wasn't a safe place west of the Mississippi for them to go.
Heyes stopped his horse and waited for Kid to pull up next to him.
"In all seriousness, Kid...You want to give it all up? You want to throw in the towel on the amnesty?"
Kid met Heyes' eyes. "I'm starting the think that really might not be a bad idea," he said quietly
Heyes had expected to hear those words, but the tone and sincerity surprised him.
"You're serious, aren't you?"
Kid didn't respond, but he did hold his partner's gaze.
"Wow," was the only word Heyes could utter.
Kid sighed and looked away. "Don't worry, Heyes. I'll stick by you...You want to keep going for amnesty, then that's what we'll do."
"But your heart ain't in it anymore?"
Kid continued to look off into the distance. "Not sure it ever was."
Heyes was still feeling a bit stunned and when he didn't offer a retort or comeback, Kid nudged his chestnut forward and continued the slow, and now silent trek toward Carson City.
They rode in silence for well over an hour, neither angry, simply contemplative. Heyes felt like all their plans had been thrown in a pot and stirred and now they were trying to find order again.
"Let's make camp on the other side and have fresh fish for dinner," Heyes called to his partner as they crossed rapidly flowing stream.
While he heard no response, Heyes did see Kid's head nodding. It was late afternoon, too far from Carson City to make it there in any daylight, but not so far that the next day's ride would be long or arduous.
They found a spot not far from the stream and began setting up camp. An hour after that, with a pot of coffee heating in the fire, Heyes and Kid sat lazily by the stream with makeshift fishing poles in their hands, the lines moving with the current as far as the poles permitted.
"You know, I've been thinking, Kid and... we don't have to take those ranch jobs if you don't want to."
The edges of Kid's mouth curled but he kept his eyes on the stream. "Yeah, we do. We need the money."
"There'll be other jobs, there always are."
"No, we'll take em...but maybe somewhere..." Kid sighed looked upstream. "Not so cold for the winter."
"Sure, Kid. We'll go to some nice warm place for the winter...Now, you ready to talk about the amnesty?"
Kid shook his head, not a refusal kind of shake, more of a surrender. "Heyes, we've covered everything we need to talk about. I told you, I'll go along with you."
"But you don't want to?"
Kid sighed and when he spoke, his voice was soft and reflective.
"It occurred to me this morning, near the lake, that maybe I'm...maybe I'm just going about things...Maybe there's a different way for me to go about things."
"What kind of things?" Heyes asked, though he already knew.
Kid took a slow breath and Heyes could see it was difficult. "Kid, are you still having trouble breathing?"
Kid shook his head."Just a little...sore."
"Then you haven't answered my questions, what kind of things?"
"Well, we talk a lot about going to Mexico, and...well the weather is warm there, the air's dryer... I ain't wanted for nothing...I just think I...We...could settle into a life, a real life, not a life always on the run, always looking to see who's behind us, watching for that look of recognition...not always sleeping out on the ground like this, wondering where the next meal is coming from."
Heyes leaned back against the tree he was sitting under and sighed. "You really have given this a lot of thought...Your plan includes the both of us?"
"Only if you're willing, Heyes. I don't want to keep you from getting amnesty if that's what you really want."
"When would we be going?" Heyes asked but his question was met with silence.
Heyes pushed his hat back and sat up straight. "Now? You're talking about right now?"
"You got a reason it shouldn't be right now?"
Eyes met and Heyes saw not so much a conviction as an acceptance in Kid's eyes.
"If you don't mind, Kid... I'd like a few days to mull this all over."
Kid smiled. "Been chasing amnesty for three years, Heyes. What's a few more days?"
Maybe a very big life-changer Heyes thought, but didn't put in to words.
They caught enough fish to eat that night till their bellies were full, a rarity when on the trail. They sat around the fire and listened to it crackle and snap, radiating enough heat to keep them both warm in the cool night mountain air. They talked of trivial things, even joked a bit, and when they were ready, they laid out their bed rolls and settled in for a good night sleep.
Late in the night Heyes was awakened by a whistling sound. He looked over toward Kid and saw him raised up on one elbow, his back toward Heyes. Kid's breathing was again shallow and rapid and every breath whistled. Heyes tossed off his blanket and reached for his saddle bags and drew out the bottle of whiskey. He pulled himself to his feet and walked over and set the bottle down in front of Kid who gave Heyes a brief nod as he slowly sucked in air.
Heyes stepped back out of Kid's line of vision but remained close. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief when he saw Kid's hand reach for the whiskey bottle and he moved in closer to grasp and cork the bottle when Kid set it down.
Slowly Kid dropped both hands to the ground and pushed himself up so he was now sitting upright on his bedroll.
"Never seen em come that close together before," Heyes said merely as an observation and carefully keeping any hint of concern from his voice.
"Just the cold, damp air, I think," Kid replied.
"You know, you've been using the same treatment since you were four or five years old, Kid. Maybe's there's something better by now. Maybe you ought to pay a visit to the doctor when we get to Carson City."
Kid nodded. Two attacks in one day was very much a rarity for him and it did cause him some concern. "Maybe," he replied.
Kid tossed his blanket aside and reached for his boots. Slipping them on, he rose to his feet and slowly took a few deep breaths. "What time is it?"
"Probably close to four."
Kid nodded and walked off a bit from camp to relieve himself. Heyes watched him disappear into the darkness as he thought about what life in Mexico might mean to his partner.
When Kid returned, Heyes had a pot of coffee brewing. Both fully awake, they sat near the fire drinking coffee while they waited for daylight to appear.