"You know the routine, Heyes. Stand up, turn around, put your hands behind your back," said the prison guard now standing outside Heyes' cell with the key ring in his hand.
Heyes was stretched out on his cot with his back leaning against the wall, reading yet another book.
"Where are we going this time, Frank?" Heyes asked
"It' part of the parole consideration process. You're meeting with the prison psychiatrist. He's got to figure out how rehabilitated you are for his report to the parole board."
"Ah," Heyes replied and closed his book with a thud before standing and doing as the guard said.
After a little over four years in the Wyoming Federal Prison, Heyes was now a seasoned and model prisoner who was respected, even admired by the other prisoners and befriended and even trusted by nearly all of the guards. He was on a first name basis with most of the guards of his cell block and was commonly given extra privileges such as having his cell door left open or unlocked until the bedtime hour each evening, receiving unopened mail, and even being given a few contraband items such as cigarettes and an occasional beer sneaked in by one of the guards.
But to leave the cell block, regulations had to be followed, so Heyes' wrists and ankles were shackled before he was led out of the cell block, down two flights of stairs, and through several corridors to office of the psychiatrist. There he was seated in a comfortable chair in front of Dr. Richard Whiting's desk.
"That will be all, Frank. Thank you," Dr. Whiting said. We should be through here by two-thirty."
The guard nodded and gave Heyes a quick wink of encouragement before he left the office.
"Would you like some coffee Mr. Heyes?" Dr. Whiting asked as he walked across the room to pour them each a cup.
"It's a little hard to drink with my hands shackled," Heyes replied.
"Yes, of course. Sorry," Dr. Whiting replied and decided to forgo his own cup. Instead he went to his desk, sat down, and opened the file mark T30162 H. Heyes.
"Mr. Heyes, this is your first psychiatric evaluation since just after your arrival here, is it not?"
"Yes, it is, Doctor," Heyes replied.
"Do you understand why you were incarcerated?"
Heyes smiled. "There were a lot of ...extenuating circumstances involved in Kid's and my situation..."
"Kid?" Dr. Whiting interrupted.
"Yes, Sir. Kid...Jedediah Curry, my partner in crime so to speak."
"Ah, yes," Dr. Whiting replied, scanning his scant notes. "You were saying..."
Heyes smiled to hide his irritation. "Yes, I understand why I was incarcerated, Doctor."
"And why was that?" Dr. Whiting asked.
Heyes wanted to say it was simply because he was caught, but he took a long, deep breath instead and steadied his composure. "A person is responsible to pay the piper when he breaks the law," Heyes replied.
"Do you feel that you've paid the piper, Mr. Heyes?"
Heyes again smiled. "Yes, Sir. Kid and me began paying our dues four years before we ever landed in here."
"How do you figure that, Mr. Heyes?"
"Four years before we were arrested, Kid and me decided to go straight. We struck a deal with the Governor when he was offering amnesties. We were four years into earning our amnesty when we was arrested. Four years of going straight. But when we got arrested, neither the courts nor the Governor was willing to acknowledge that amnesty deal, so we both got sentenced to the whole twenty years, Doctor."
"I see no mention of any amnesty in these files."
"Don't surprise me none, but what I'm telling you is the Gospel truth."
"The file does indicate that after a brief but difficult start, you've been a model prisoner during your stay here. The guards give you a high rating of approval."
"That's very generous of them."
"There are also some very impressive letters of recommendation in this file, from some highly respected individuals."
"Very generous of those people as well."
"Mr. Heyes, do you have a plan for when you're released from prison?" Dr. Whiting asked.
Heyes nodded. "I'll be putting all my energy into getting Kid paroled...He ain't up for parole now... Is he?" Heyes asked hopefully.
Dr. Whiting shook his head.
"I didn't suppose he would be just yet. Kid had a harder time of it when we first come here."
"Why was that?"
Heyes chuckled. "I thought you was a psychiatrist...You mean you don't know?"
"I'm interested in you're telling me, Mr. Heyes.."
"Well, I suppose it's true of every inmate, but Kid and me come in here with our own baggage. You know, reputations. Kid's is the kind that makes people want to challenge him, bring him down a notch or two. In prison there's only one way to stop that...and that's to stand up to it...Last I heard, it's settled down for the most part...Would you happen to know, and be able to tell me how he's doing? I don't get to see Kid but once a year."
"Why is that?" Dr. Whiting asked.
Heyes shook his head. "I couldn't say. For me, it's the hardest part about being here. In our whole lives, we ain't never been apart this long."
"If you're paroled Mr. Heyes, would you be able to hold down a job, make an honest living?"
Heyes smiled. "I was making an honest living for four years before I landed here. I know how to make an honest living, Dr. Whiting."
"Do you think you deserve to be paroled, Mr. Heyes?"
"I think the prison board wouldn't be disappointed or think they made the wrong decision if they was to grant me parole, Dr. Whiting."
Both men heard the guard returning to the outer office. Dr. Whiting looked at the clock and was surprised the allotted time had passed. He would have liked to continue the conversation, but he had another prisoner scheduled.
"I think you'll be pleased with my report, Mr. Heyes," the Doctor said as he stood up from his chair. Heyes too stood and shuffled his way across the room.
"Nice meeting you, Dr. Whiting. I hope you get an opportunity to talk to Kid sometime."
"You think he's in need of my services, Mr. Heyes?"
Heyes smiled sadly. "That would be for the two of you to decide, wouldn't it?"
Frank, the guard, escorted Heyes back to the T Block and once the cell block door was secured, he released Heyes' shackles.
"Frank, I'm asking you a big favor," Heyes said.
"What's that, Heyes?"
"I gotta see Kid. I gotta let him know what's going on."
"Heyes," Frank sighed. "We take a big risk letting the two of you see each other at Christmas. They only reason we can make that happen is because the Warden visits his wife's family in Illinois for a week every Christmas. He ain't scheduled to be going anywhere right now."
"Could you try, please?" Heyes asked, his voice sounding desperate.
Frank shook his head. "Give me a few days to see what can be done. But, remember Heyes, I can't promise you."
Heyes nodded. "I understand. Thank you for trying."
Neither Frank nor Heyes brought the subject up again, but three days later Frank swung open the cell door.
"Come on, Heyes. We're going to get that sore throat of yours taken a look at.'
Heyes looked at Frank with a puzzled expression, but quickly realized what was happening and smiled.
Because the infirmary was not on the ground level, Heyes did not have to be shackled, but was required to walk a few paces ahead of the guard down several halls and up two flights of stairs.
"This one's just got a sore throat," Frank explained to the doctor.
"Put him in room two. It might be a little while till I can get to him," Dr. Edwards said, vaguely aware of what was going on.
Frank walked behind Heyes to the closed examination room.
"Heyes, he's gonna look a little roughed up to you. It won't do him or anybody else any good for you to get riled up about it. I'm gonna be right outside this door... Don't go messing up your chance for parole, Heyes."
Frank could see the anger flash across Heyes' eyes, but Heyes took a deep breath and nodded. Frank then reached for the door knob and opened the door.
Heyes walked in and stopped when he saw a man he knew had to be his partner sitting in a chair across the room. Kid was leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. In his swollen right hand he held a wet bandanna against his right eye. His prison clothes hung loosely as he was at least twenty pounds lighter than the day he had arrived. He didn't look up to see who had come into the room.
"Kid?" Heyes said softly and tried to hide the rage and concern he was feeling.
Slowly Kid raised his head and a smile that Heyes knew had to hurt, spread across his face.
"Heyes,.. Good God, Heyes."
"You look like crap, Kid. You alright?"
Kid lowered the bandanna held loosely in his hand. Heyes could see the right eye was almost swollen shut. Dark red circles surrounded both eyes.
"I'm getting by," Kid replied. "You look good."
Heyes felt a wave of guilt spread over him. He grabbed a chair and scraped it across the floor to sit down directly in front of Kid.
"What happened to your hand?"
Kid moved the bandanna to his left hand, then moved his right hand to eye level and tried unsuccessfully to flex the fingers into a fist.
"Aw, it'll be alright, Heyes."
"What happened to it?" Heyes said, pushing the subject.
"Took a few pelts from a brick. It'll heal, Heyes. Let it go."
"And your eye?"
Kid tried to smile a second time. "Now that was just a fist."
"We gotta get you outta there," Heyes lamented.
"Heyes, it ain't as bad as you think. I ain't been in the infirmary in a couple of months. I'm alright," Kid lied as convincingly as he could.
"You're too thin."
"You're a fine one to talk about that."
That comment made Heyes smile and managed to lighten the mood a bit.
"The guards managed to get me in here cause I told em I had to talk to you."
"You got guards doing you favors? That silver tongue bodes well for you, still."
"Kid, I gotta tell you something and we don't have a lot of time."
"Okay. I'm listening, Heyes."
Heyes ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. He wanted to make sure his words gave his partner hope rather than despair.
"I'm... I'm being considered for parole," He said and watched Kid's reaction carefully. He saw blue eyes brighten just a tad.
"That's great, Heyes."
"I'm told most people don't get paroled on their first attempt. But still, there is a chance."
"When will you know?"
"I don't know yet... Kid if I do get out, I'm spending every breathing minute of my life working on getting you out, too."
"Heyes, look at me... I'm a trouble-maker. I ain't getting out till my time's up...But I'll survive it, Heyes. Don't waste all your freedom on me. It just won't get you nowhere."
Heyes looked at Kid's tightly shorn hair. "I miss those curls," he said sadly.
The door opened and Frank walked in to the room. "Heyes," he said as a reminder that his time was up with Kid.
Heyes sighed heavily and stood up.
"You gonna be alright?" he asked Kid.
"Quit worrying Heyes. I'll be okay." Kid then turned his attention to the guard. "Thank you," he told Frank.
"Let's go, Heyes," Frank replied, but gave Kid a respectful nod.
0-0-0-0-0-
Days passed slowly into weeks but Heyes could not shake the images of his battered partner. As the day of the parole board hearing approached, Heyes found himself honestly contemplating whether he would be of more help to Kid inside or outside the prison walls, and finally reached the sad conclusion that he had been able to accomplish nothing in the way of helping Kid since his incarceration.
On the day of the parole board hearing, Heyes was again shackled and led down hallways, stairs, and corridors to a large waiting area where both prisoners and those speaking on the prisoner's behalf were seated on long benches situated against the walls.
Lom Trevers stood when he saw Heyes enter the room.
"You don't look much worse for the wear," Lom told Heyes as they sat down beside each other and Frank sat on the other side of Heyes.
"You seen Kid?" Heyes asked.
Lom shook his head. "I've tried a couple of times but they always tell me he's on visitor restriction. I figure he's having a rough go of it."
"He is, Lom. We gotta get him moved to another cell block."
"Won't it just start all over again, Heyes? Might even be worse in another block."
"You wouldn't say that if you saw him. He can barely use his right hand."
"He complaining?"
"No."
"Then we'd best leave it be, Heyes. His turn for parole will come."
"He says it won't. He says it don't matter if he starts a fight or not. Either way it goes against him."
"He's right about that," Frank said in a whispered voice.
Lom sighed heavily. "How do I go about it?" Lom asked Frank.
Frank shook his head. "It don't happen often. The Warden is the one that makes that decision. Takes someone of high influence to convince him."
"You mean someone like the Governor?" Lom asked.
Frank nodded. "Exactly who I mean."
An Officer of the Court emerged from the boardroom. "Sheriff Lom Trevers?" he called to the people sitting on the benches.
Lom stood and glanced down at Heyes. "I hope this helps, Heyes," he said and followed the Officer into the boardroom.
0-0-0-0-0-
"Is there a reason you wanted to see me?" a shackled Kid Curry asked as he was escorted into Dr. Whiting's office.
"Mr. Curry, would you mind if the guard stayed so we could at least unshackle your hands?" Dr. Whiting asked.
Kid shrugged. "Don't matter to me."
"Will you be able to answer me truthfully with a guard present?"
"I suppose that would depend on what you're asking. There are a few things a prisoner don't particularly want a guard to know, you understand?"
"Yes, Mr. Curry. I do indeed."
Dr. Whiting nodded to the guard who came forward and released Kid's wrist shackles, then returned to the back of the room.
"Please, have a seat Mr. Curry. Would you like some coffee?"
Kid nodded. "Thank you."
Dr. Whiting got them each a cup of coffee and then sat down behind his desk.
"It looks like you have a few fresh bruises," Dr. Whiting said.
Kid didn't reply but the doctor had not expected him to.
"Mr. Curry, are you aware that Hannibal Heyes is appearing before the parole board today?"
"I didn't know it was today," Kid replied.
"Actually I believe he is appearing as we speak."
Kid nodded.
"I believe Sheriff Lom Trevers is also appearing on Mr. Heyes behalf."
The hint of a smile did not go unnoticed by the doctor.
"Would you mind if Sheriff Trevers was a part of this meeting?"
Kid hesitated. "If there's a Sheriff in the room, can the guard wait outside?"
"I'm afraid not, Mr. Curry."
"Then maybe it would be better for you to talk to Lom without me."
"I understand. Mr. Curry...Do you feel safe in your current cell block?"
"I can hold my own."
"That's not what I asked."
Curry didn't reply and Dr. Whiting surmised that was because of the guard's presence.
"How often are you involved in some...physical altercation?"
"More often than I'd like," Kid replied.
Dr. Whiting turned his attention to the guard. "How often would you say Mr. Curry is involved in some physical altercation?" he asked the guard.
"You mean the one's he starts?"
"No. I mean any physical altercation."
The guard blew a puff of air through his mouth. "More often than we'd like," the guard replied.
"Weekly?" Dr. Whiting asked, watching Kid's reaction of closing his eyes and bowing his head slightly.
"Yeah, I'd say weekly."
"More than weekly?"
"Sometimes."
"Mr. Curry, how often are you the one that provokes these altercations?"
"I do my best to stay clear of em."
"Could I see your right hand, Mr. Curry?"
Kid's eyes opened and fixed on the Doctor's eyes as he slowly raised his still swollen hand with poorly mending fingers.
Has the prison physician seen your hand?"
Kid shook his head.
"Can you make a fist?"
"No," Kid said quietly.
"Could you before you became incarcerated?"
Kid nodded.
"Mr. Curry, would you consider seeing me on a regular basis, perhaps weekly?"
"You think there's a reason I need to?"
"I think you might benefit from such visits."
Kid nodded. "Alright."
Dr. Whiting motioned to the guard who approached Kid and shackled his wrists again.
"It's been a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Curry."
Kid nodded. "You, too," he said. "And would you tell Lom I appreciate him helping Heyes with this parole meeting? Kid added as the guard ushered him out of the office.
"I will, and I'll ask the prison physician to look at that hand."
0-0-0-0-0-
"Hannibal Heyes," the Officer of the court called and Heyes stood up and shuffled toward the boardroom.
Lom passed by as Heyes headed toward the boardroom and he gave Heyes an encouraging smile.
"Where can I find Dr. Whiting's office?" Lom asked Frank.
"First floor. Room 118."
"Thank you."
"If you don't mind my asking, is this about his partner, Mr. Curry" Frank asked. "Heyes worries about him something awful."
Lom nodded. "We all do," he sighed.
0-0-0-0-0-
Inside the boardroom, Heyes was led to a podium. Two Deputies of the Court stood on either side but slightly behind him.
"Please state your full name," the Recorder said.
"Hannibal P. Heyes."
"Mr. Heyes, do you understand the purpose of this hearing?"
"I do, your Honor."
"Do you feel that being institutionalized here has benefited you in any way, Mr. Heyes?"
"Benefited?"
"Has it rehabilitated you any any way?"
"My partner and I had begun self-rehabilitation four years before we ever landed here, your Honor."
"I don't understand?"
"Jed Curry and I were part of Governor Warren's Amnesty program. We had gone straight four years before we were arrested. Part of the amnesty deal was that we would still be wanted until such time the Governor granted us that amnesty."
"I see. Do you know why that was not introduced into trial?"
"No, your Honor. Except for maybe poor representation. We was assigned lawyers. We couldn't afford to hire them."
The judge squelched a grin. "I see."
"Has your stay here helped any other prisoners in any way?"
"I've taught a few fellows how to read."
"Do you think your rehabilitation makes you now ready to be paroled?"
"You want the answer that will get me out of here, or you want the truth?"
"The truth, Mr. Heyes."
"The truth is, I think our prior rehabilitation should have kept my partner and me from ever walking through these prison doors, you Honor."
"I appreciate your honesty, Mr. Heyes... If you are released, what are your plans?"
"I plan to work toward getting my partner out of here, in a legal manner of course."
"Of course. Do you have any questions for the panel?"
"No, but I have a request for the panel."
"And what is that, Mr. Heyes?"
"I request that the panel review Jed Curry's stay here. Prison shouldn't tear a man down. It should build a man up. That ain't what prison is doing for Kid. I just think you ought to know."
"Thank you Mr. Heyes. The board will announce it's decisions at the end of the week."
Heyes turned and the two Court Deputies escorted him out of the boardroom and returned him to Frank's custody.
"How did it go?" Frank asked as they made their way back to the cell block.
Heyes flinched. "I probably said a few things I shouldn't have said."
"It's a fair board, Heyes. They don't just focus on a few misspoken words. They listen to everything said."
"I sure hope you're right, Frank."
0-0-0-0-0-
Lom Trevers found room 118 and knocked on the door.
"Dr. Whiting?" Lom asked when the doctor answered the door.
"You must be Sheriff Trevers. Please, come in."
Lom followed the doctor into his office.
"Would you like some coffee?"
"Yes, thank you," Lom replied.
Dr. Whiting poured them each a cup and motioned to Lom to have a seat. He handed Lom his coffee and then sat on the edge of his desk to give the conversation a less formal feel.
"I understand Mr. Heyes is a good candidate for parole. I thought you'd like to know that."
"That's good to hear," Lom replied.
"I understand he and Mr. Curry arrived here at the same time."
"That's right."
"But Mr. Curry isn't being considered for parole."
"That's also right."
"Mr. Heyes had voiced some concerns to me about Mr. Curry's safety and well-being."
"The Kid came in here with quite the reputation. It stands to reason his stay would be the more difficult of the two."
"I met with Mr. Curry this afternoon. I'm familiar with his reputation. His injuries don't seem consistent with his demeanor and attitude."
"You're saying you don't think he provokes these fights?"
Dr. Whiting nodded. "He's agreed to start seeing me on a weekly basis. I'm hoping that, within a short time, I will have gathered enough information, both about Mr. Curry himself, and of the situation he is currently in, to file a formal request to have Mr. Curry moved to another cell block."
"Will the Warden give your report the consideration it' deserves?"
Dr. Whiting sighed. "That's a good question, and that's where I hope you can become involved if necessary."
"What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to talk to the Governor and explain the situation and what I am trying to accomplish. I'll notify you when I submit my formal report to the Warden... If the Warden chooses not to address this issue, I would hope that you could convince the Governor to request the report be forwarded to him."
Lom nodded his head in consent of the doctor's request. "Was today the first time you met Kid?" Lom asked.
"Yes."
"Kid's had a rough life, and he keeps most of that life very well guarded. Heyes does too, they just go about it different... Kid will take what's doled out to him until he can't take no more. You better do everything in your power to get Kid off that cell block before he reaches that point."
"Does he get violent?"
"No. Kid ain't been violent a day in his life. But he takes control, and neither the prisoners nor the guards are going to be able to stop him."
Dr. Whiting nodded. "You've been very helpful."
"Is Kid getting medical treatment?"
"He says he hasn't been. I've already spoken with the prison physician who plans to take a look at his hand yet today."
"What's wrong with his hand?"
"It's quite swollen. He appears to have sustained some fractures in his fingers that were not set properly, likely not set at all."
"Right hand, I suppose?"
"Yes."
Lom sighed and shook his head. "We've got to get Kid moved out of there."
"I'll move it along as quickly as possible."
Lom stood to leave but stopped when he reached the door.
"Dr. Whiting, I've come by to see Kid on two occasions. Both times I was turned away and told that Kid's visitation privileges had been suspended. Is there anyway you can put a stop to that? I'd like to be able to check in on him maybe once a month and I know, if Heyes gets paroled, he will, too."
"I'll see what I can do."
"Thank you. It's good to know someone's on the Kid's side in here."
0-0-0-0-0-
The days spent waiting for the Parole Board's decision passed just like all the other days Heyes had spent in the prison for the past four years. He spent most of his time since the hearing planning how he could most effectively help achieve the same parole result for Kid. He had taken to scribbling notes on the edges of the pages of the book he was reading. When Frank had noticed what Heyes was doing, he bought Heyes a pocket notebook so he could better organize his ideas and plans. This is what Heyes was doing in his cell on Thursday afternoon when Frank opened the unlocked cell door and stepped inside.
"Board's announced their decisions, Heyes," Frank announced.
Heyes sat up and moved his feet off the edge of the bed.
"Gonna keep me in suspense?" he asked.
Frank smiled. "You did it, Heyes. You're getting paroled!"
Heyes smiled and closed his eyes tightly. "When?" he asked when he was finally composed enough to speak.
"Monday morning, seven A.M."
Heyes took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.
"Can we get word to Kid?"
"I told Dr. Whiting. He'll get news of it anyway. He has to do what they call an exit review with you, probably sometime tomorrow. He said he'd be sure Kid was aware."
Heyes smiled. "Thank you, Frank. You've been a good friend. I wish Kid had a guard like you on his cell block."
"Heyes, you gotta trust that things will work out for Curry. You know he's got people looking out for him, now."
"I know. I just hope what they can do is enough."
"You gotta have faith, Heyes. Faith will see you through a damn sight more than you know."
Heyes nodded.
"The Warden will be sending up some paperwork, and you got to be seen by the physician for a clean bill of health, and the psychiatrist like I said. All that will likely happen tomorrow."
"Frank, you know what I'm gonna ask you..."
Frank smiled. "I'm pretty sure there's people working on that already, Heyes."
The paperwork had been delivered to the cell block shortly after midnight and was waiting for Frank when he arrived at work on Friday morning, so another guard escorted Heyes to the Dr. Edwards's office for his discharge examination. This was hardly a detailed examination and was completed in less than half an hour and Heyes was escorted back to his cell.
Shortly after lunch, having completed the paperwork, Frank escorted Heyes to Dr. Whiting's office.
"Dr. Whiting says this is going to take a couple of hours," Frank told Heyes.
"Really? I would think he'd have all the information he needed from the pre-parole board interview."
"A discharge interview is different, though. Prison's gotta be able to show they did everything feasible to ease your transition back into the free world."
Dr. Whiting met them at his office entrance and led them into his inner office where Heyes immediately saw Kid sitting in the chair in front of the doctor's desk.
Kid's smile was an ear to ear expression of joy for his partner and he stood up and held his arms open to his partner. It was their first physical contact in four years and both were reluctant to step back.
"I arranged for Frank to be the office guard so that Mr. Curry's hands could be free of restraint. I understand Mr. Heyes that you and Frank have a good relationship so I assumed Frank would be the guard you would least object to being in here for this meeting."
Heyes nodded absently, still engrossed in the presence of his partner.
"You're hand's bandaged, Kid! Did the doctor look at it?"
Kid held up a tightly bound hand. "The doctor says the bones weren't healing at all, but that turned out to be a good thing since I didn't get seen right away. He set the fingers and thinks, with some exercises down the road, I'll get the movement back in em."
"Good, cause I was having some trouble picturing the fastest gun in the west without a working trigger finger."
"Me too, Heyes."
"Gentlemen, I scheduled you both here for a two hour session. I'm leaving that time open to the both of you to talk about whatever necessities you have to discuss prior to Mr. Heyes' departure on Monday."
They both turned their attention briefly to Dr. Whiting to thank him for arranging this time for them. Then the focus quickly returned to each other. Heyes urged Kid to maintain a low profile and keep out of trouble. He expounded on all his ideas about how to get Kid paroled as quickly as possible and even showed Kid the notebook he carried with ideas and reminders jotted down. Kid told Heyes to focus on his own life and not to hesitate going out on his own. They both vowed to be reunited one day.
As the time together drew to a close, their conversations slowly began to ebb, but the unspoken bond between then broadened and deepened and became blatantly visible to Dr. Whiting who understood that for reasons yet unknown to him, each of these men was necessary to make the other whole. It was a phenomenon he'd seen before, although rarely, a phenomenon accepted, but not yet explained in the field of psychiatry although one popular hypothesis was that such a bond usually took root at a very young age and stemmed from a need to overcome a sense of abandonment.
When the meeting was over, each was returned to his own cell block. Heyes was busy throughout the day in preparation of his departure. Kid was not so fortunate, and when he returned to his cell, he lay down on his cot, turned to face the wall, and lay stationary throughout the remainder of the day and all of the night.
0-0-0-0-0-
"Come on, Curry. Get up," the guard ordered as he gave Kid's shoulder a hard shove. Kid opened his eyes to find the cell still largely dark. Only the oil lamp in the corridor cast a bit of flickering light and shadows about the cell walls.
"What's going on?" Kid asked, pulling himself out of be as he had been instructed.
"It's Monday and Dr. Whiting's schedule is backed up today. He says he can only fit you in at six-thirty this morning. Still half a sleep, Kid stood and waited patiently while the shackles were applied.
"Let's go,"
Dr. Whiting met them at the entrance to his office. "Leave the shackles on so you don't have to stay," Dr. Whiting told the guard, then ushered Kid into his office and shut the door.
"What's going on?" Kid asked.
"It's Monday morning, Mr. Curry. I thought you might like to watch your partner walk out of prison a free man."
Kid gave the doctor a grateful smile and shuffled to the window overlooking the prison entrance. Kid studied the activity on the ground below. He saw a surrey parked just outside the gates and he watched Lom Trevers pace nervously back and forth, glancing at his watch every couple of minutes.
Finally, he saw Heyes emerge from the shadows and walk down the lane to the gate entrance. One guard walked unarmed beside him. Just inside the gate, the guard handed Heyes a paper sack containing his few belongings. Then Kid saw Heyes turn and look in the direction of Dr. Whiting's office. Heyes raised his arm and pointed at the window. He smiled and waved his hand and then gave Kid the thumbs up sign.
"He knows you are here, watching," Dr. Whiting whispered.
Kid's hand lightly touched the barred window and he watched Heyes turn as the gate was opened and he walked outside the prison and climbed into the surrey. Lom had already climbed into the surrey and he flicked the reins and Kid watched Heyes disappear down the street.
"He said you would want to be here," Dr. Whiting said.
Kid nodded but said nothing.
"Don't despair Mr. Curry. You are the focus now.
"This might sound funny to you Dr. Whiting, but I've always found that even in the darkest moments in life...there's always some little glimmer of light...That's what you are...You're a glimmer of light."
0-0-0-0-0-
Several weeks passed without incident, likely due to the fact that prisons are hard-pressed for keeping secrets, so word had circulated well that Curry was suddenly being monitored for possible transfer. The guards of Kid's cell block had been instructed to have Kid seen immediately by the physician should he sustain absolutely any injury. As a result both guards and inmates had backed off. This supported Kid's statement to Dr. Whiting that it was not he who instigated the fights and confrontations.
Kid's right hand had healed enough that the physician decided Kid no longer needed to wear the bandages, but he was to wiggle and fist the fingers several times a day. Kid also continued to see Dr. Whiting once a week, but the progress toward moving Kid to another cell block seemed to be stagnant.
Just over two months after Heyes had been released, he and Lom Trevers returned to the prison for a visit. When Kid was escorted into the visitation room, Heyes was very much relieved at Kid's appearance seeing no fresh injuries, no healing bruises.
"If you two don't mind, I'm going to see if Dr. Whiting is available," Lom said and left the room to stop at the entrance desk for clearance and escort to the doctor's office.
"Did they move you, Kid? It looks like they're treating you better."
"No, they ain't moved me. I think it's just that the whole block knows something's going on that involves me. Everybody's staying pretty clear."
"I wish you could put on a few pounds. You look thinner than the last time I saw you."
"Heyes, why don't you tell me what you've been doing instead of worrying about how my pants fit?"
Heyes smiled. "Alright. Did you see me leave that morning?"
This time Kid smiled. "I did. I watched you till you was out of sight."
"I've been staying in Porterville. I've got a room at a boarding house."
"Got a job?"
Heyes shook his head. "Poker still takes care of providing me what little money I need. You've been getting my letters?"
"How many you sent?"
Heyes looked a little sheepish. "Two."
Kid nodded and grinned. "I got em. I appreciate you letting me know how much progress you ain't making."
Heyes leaned in to the bars that separated them and spoke quietly. "Lom and Dr. Whiting's got a plan."
Kid smiled. "I know all about that, Heyes. I'm still seeing Dr. Whiting once a week. He lets me know what's going on as much as he can. He's a might more insightful than you," Kid tease.
"I'm sorry things is moving so slow, Kid," Heyes replied, still too worried to notice the teasing or to engage in such banter.
Kid shrugged. "Nothing you and me can do anything about, Heyes. Don't be stewing over it."
Heyes nodded. "Lom's been in touch with the Governor."
Kid grinned. "And we both know how worthwhile that can be."
They're idle chit chat continued for another twenty minutes, both content just to be in the company of the other.
0-0-0-0-0-
"I've received notification from the Warden that Mr. Curry will be moved to your former cell block at the end of this week," Dr. Whiting told Lom. "I haven't informed Mr. Curry as yet. I'm afraid when the news gets out, his remaining time in his current cell block will digress back to the way it had been."
"You understand the working mind of the criminal very well," Heyes replied.
"And of the guards as well," Dr. Whiting said sadly. "So far as I know, the Warden and I are the only two that know about the intended move. If word does get out, it won't have been leaked by me."
0-0-0-0-0-
After being escorted back to his cell block, Kid could tell immediately that his cell had been searched during his absence. He pretended not to notice but at his first opportunity, Kid checked under his mattress and discovered the only thing of value to him, Heyes' letters, were missing.
Kid lay down on his bed and sighed heavily. Someone had to have been listening to their entire visitation conversation. He dismissed the possibility of the guard as that man had not so much as shifted his weight as he stood guard during the visit. No, someone outside the room must have been able to listen to him and Heyes talk. Who that person was didn't matter. What mattered was that someone now new that something was in the works for Kid Curry. This assumption led Kid to the realization that life on the cell block was likely becoming dangerous once again. He tried to convince himself to take this knowledge in stride, but every defensive instinct in him told him otherwise.
Kid noticed a change of attitude among the other prisoners the very next day as slurs began to be uttered in his direction, someone would occasionally bump hard against him as he stood in line for a meal or spent mandatory time in the courtyard. Guards would witness but ignore these "harmless" assaults. Kid knew something was brewing, but he remained quiet and tried to maintain as much distance between himself and the other prisoners as possible.
On Thursday, Kid spent an hour in his weekly session with Dr. Whiting. The doctor noticed Kid's brooding, but Kid offered no explanation beyond the fact that he missed his partner.
"I do have some good news for you Mr. Curry," Dr. Whiting said to him.
"I could use some good news," Kid replied.
"Tomorrow you will be moving to Cell Block T. I think you will find living there far more tolerable than your current Cell Block."
"When was that decision made?" Kid asked.
The questions surprised Dr. Whiting. He had expected Kid to be nothing more than pleased with the news.
"I received word this past Monday. I thought it best not to discuss it until now. I know how quickly word spreads in a prison."
So that was why the atmosphere had suddenly worsened Kid realized. Word had gotten out despite Dr. Whiting's silence on the matter.
"Mr. Curry, is something wrong? Has something changed?"
"Who all knew about this move, Dr. Whiting?" Kid asked.
"So far as I know, only the Warden and myself, why?"
Kid surmised it was the Warden himself who was leaking the information.
"Would the Warden have any reason to pass that information along to anyone?"
"At some point he would notify the guards. There's paperwork to be completed, protocols to be followed. But when he informed me, we discussed the importance of keeping the information quiet until it was necessary to inform the guards. Mr. Curry, are you having trouble on your cell block again?"
"Oh, I wouldn't exactly call it trouble," Kid replied. "Inmates are just getting a little... bolder the past few days."
"In what way?"
"Just, saying things, trying to get me riled. When I was visiting with Heyes the other day, someone stole his letters out of my cell."
"Was there anything in those letters that might...provoke someone?"
"He wrote about Lom talking to the Governor, but, he didn't say what about. Hell, Lom's been talking to the Governor for us for years, ever since we started working toward the amnesty."
"At Heyes' parole hearing, he mentioned that the amnesty was not brought up in the trial."
"So?"
"So whoever took and read those letters likely has no knowledge of the amnesty bid."
"But the Warden would, because of the parole hearing," Kid replied.
Dr. Whiting nodded. "But the guards and inmates would not...Mr. Curry, I could arrange for you to spend the night in the infirmary tonight."
Kid shrugged him off. "I'll be fine. It's just one more night. I'll keep a low profile."
0-0-0-0-0-
Kid was abruptly awakened in the wee hours of the morning by a hard shove to the shoulder and a command to "Get up!."
Kid opened his eyes and saw the guard standing over him.
"What's this about?" Kid asked.
"Warden wants to see you."
"At this hour?"
"Get up!"
Kid moved to sit on the side of the bed and pull his boots on. He knew something was amiss. He knew the Warden would not order a meeting at this hour. He stood up slowly and the guard shoved him toward the cell door. When no shackles were applied, Kid knew what was in store.
"Suppose I refuse to see the Warden at this hour?" Kid asked.
The guard's sneer was sinister. "Then we'll just hold the meeting right here," he said and instantly hammered the butt of his rifle into Kid's abdomen.
Kid doubled over, having had the wind knocked out of him. But the guard just grabbed him by his shirt and shoved him out the cell door.
"That way," the guard ordered. Kid slowly stood up. "Why are you doing this?" Kid asked.
"Orders."
"Who's orders?"
"Get moving!"
Kid took slow steps down the corridor.
"Just tell me who...and why."
The guard knew better than to divulge the information, fearing for both his job and his life.
"It's gotta be the Warden, but why? What did I ever do to him?"
"You know the Warden's name, Curry?"
Kid shook his head. He'd never heard the Warden referred to any anything other than The Warden. He'd never even seen the warden, let alone met him. Even that cold December day four years ago when he and Heyes had arrived at the prison, they had not met the warden as he was on a week's vacation vising relatives in Illinois.
"What's his name?" Kid asked.
The guard again flashed a sinister smile. "Thomas Bilson."
Kid's jaw dropped. He had never heard of Thomas Bilson, but he had heard of Danny.
"That's right, Curry. He use to have a son named Danny."
They had come to a stop outside the shower room.
"Go on in, Curry. Been nice knowing you."
The guard raised his rifle and gave his head a nod toward the door knob.
"You tell the Warden I'll see him in hell," Kid said. He reached out and gave the doorknob a turn and walked into the room. The guard quickly locked the door, checked his watch and walked away.
Twenty minutes later the guard returned and unlocked the door and ushered the prisoners out. Then he locked the door again, without so much as glancing inside.
The next morning, after the shift exchange of guards, the customary cell check was performed.
"Hey, Curry's not in his cell," one of the guards shouted. "The door's wide open."
"He couldn't have gotten off the cell block. Start a search, every room, every closet, every nook and cranny. I want him found!" the guard in charge ordered.
"The shower door's locked," one of the guards shouted.
The lead guard approached and unlocked the door and six guards entered the room.
There Curry lay prone in the middle of the floor, his arms splayed out above his head. The water from the four showers ran freely, the water running across the floor, and under Kid's body where its color changed to pink as it moved on toward the drain in the center of the room.
Guards immediately went to Kid's aid. Turning him on to his back one of the guards pressed his ear against Kid's left chest.
"Heart's still beating but it's erratic and fast."
"Get the body board and someone notify the doctor that we're on our way," the lead guard instructed.
0-0-0-0-
It was three days before Kid began showing signs of waking. When he finally did awaken, Kid felt his right hand gently cradled in the palm of someone's hand.
"Dr. Whiting?" Kid whispered.
"Nope, it's me, Kid."
Kid slowly opened his eyes as much as he was able and was greeted by the warm smile of Hannibal Heyes.
"What are you doing here?" Kid whispered.
"Apparently you need someone to watch your back, Kid. I figure who better for that job than me."
Kid's breathing picked up a bit. "Heyes...the Warden?"
"Oh, we found out about the Warden real quick, Kid. I suspect he'll be occupying your old cell pretty soon."
Kid struggled to grasp what he was being told. "When do I get moved?"
Heyes smiled. "Your next move from here, Kid is likely some nice, comfortable hotel downtown."
"What? I don't...understand."
"I'll explained everything in detail when you're feeling better. For now, all you need to know is that you're a free man, Kid."
"Free?"
"The Governor issued you an immediate pardon. Well, immediate is kind of an illusive choice of words. As soon as you're well enough to walk, you'll be walking out of this prison for good, just like I did."
Kid tried hard to focus on the face of his partner, but his eyes were so swollen, he couldn't open them far enough for a clear image.
"Dr. Whiting know?"
"Yep. In fact he was very helpful in persuading the Governor to go a full pardon."
"So, what's next?"
"We'll be staying in Cheyenne for at least a month. You'll have to testify at Bilson's trial. But once that's over, Kid, we can go wherever we want, set down some roots now if we want... Kid, the world is at out doorstep now."
"I hate to interrupt you two, but my patient needs his rest," Dr. Edwards said.
"Don't leave, Heyes," Kid said urgently.
"I ain't leaving, Kid. Might give my silver tongue a rest, but I ain't leaving."
Kid nodded with exhausted effort, closed his eyes, and fell back to sleep, his hand still resting securely in his partner's hand.
0-0-0-0-0-
A week later Kid was thought well enough to leave the prison and discharge procedures were initiated. Both the physical exam and the psychological exam were conducted in the infirmary.
"I know this sounds strange Kid," Dr Edwards said. "But that guard who rifle-butted you, may have just saved your life."
"How?" Heyes asked.
"That blow was enough to weaken you, so when the fight started, you went down sooner than you likely would have, and was breathing more shallow than normal. Those prisoners likely thought you was dead."
"Yeah, sure sounds like a guardian angel, don't it?" Heyes said negatively.
"Just saying... Dr. Edwards said with a shrug of his shoulders.
"Kid, one of the prisoners, a man named Willard Stockman, keeps asking about you. He sounds genuinely concerned," Dr. Whiting said. "He says he owes you an explanation and would like to pay you a visit."
"Don't do it, Kid. He's probably just trying to save his ass."
"Or absolve his soul," Kid contemplated.
"I could arrange for the two of you to meet in my office..."
Kid slowly nodded his head. "I'll listen to what he has to say."
"Kid, you don't have to ease this fellow's conscience you know?"
"Heyes, we're going to be leaving here in a day or two. I ain't gonna ever see any of them men again. It ain't like I can say no and then change my mind in a week. Besides, the man's gonna be shackled. He ain't no threat."
"I'm just going on record telling you this Is a mistake, Kid."
"Would you like the meeting this afternoon, or tomorrow morning?" Dr. Whiting asked.
"This afternoon. Let's just get it over with."
"I'll make the arrangements. Let's say four thirty?"
"Fine."
Later that afternoon, with only some minor assistance from Heyes, Kid dressed in his own clothes which Heyes thought only further evidenced how thin Kid had become. Neither commented on the loose fitting garments, but Kid did use the last hole to cinch his belt.
When Willard Stockman shuffled into the Dr. Whiting's office, accompanied by a guard, Kid was leaning casually against the heavy, oak bookcase, secretly grateful for the bit of support the bookcase provided. Heyes was seated in a chair in a corner on the opposite side of the room.
Dr. Whiting held the door and offered Stockman the chair that he had turned away from his desk so that it faced Kid. Stockman sat down in the chair, his head slightly bent as he took fleeting glances at Kid.
"You asked for this meeting. You got something to say to me?" Kid asked, breaking the long silence.
"I figure now that the Warden's gone, there's things you ought to know," Stockman replied.
Kid shot a glance across the room at his partner, then looked at Stockman. "I'm listening."
"Well, let me start by telling you that, with the exception of you, every single prisoner on that cell block has a life sentence with no parole."
Kid wasn't aware of that. He glanced at Dr. Whiting who gave Kid a nod to confirm Stockman's statement.
"None of us were told why, but you were a marked man the day you first stepped foot in that cell block. You gotta understand, Kid, with no chance of ever getting out, we all learned real quick to do whatever the Warden or the guards told us, cause we'd get little rewards, extra privileges and such. Them things become damn important when you know you're gonna be caged up like an animal till the day you die."
"What kind of rewards?" Dr. Whiting asked.
"Cigarettes, larger portions at meals, extra time in the courtyard, the chance to take a shower without half a dozen other men in the room, maybe an extra blanket or pillow."
"You men were willing to break a man's bones, beat a man near to death for cigarettes and a pillow?" Dr. Whiting asked.
Them things don't sound like much, but they're as good as gold to a lifer," Stockman explained.
"Go on," Kid urged him.
Stockman sighed. Still he could not fix his eyes on Kid, and instead stayed focused on the floor."
"Twice we was ordered to kill you."
"By who?" Kid interrupted.
Stockman shrugged. "The guards would tell us, but I don't think they ordered it. Can't imagine any of them wanted to end up on the other side of the cell bars... You ever hear of the code among thieves?"
Kid nodded and again glanced at his partner.
"Well, there's a code among lifers, too and we draw the line at killing someone without good reason. Even being a lifer is better than being hung. … So we took you to the edge a couple of times, last week being one of em, but that's as far as we would go."
"Surely some of you knew the Warden's name. Why didn't nobody ever call him by his name?"
"The day you arrived we got orders never to use his name again. Nobody ever told us why."
"Willard, are you willing to testify to this at the Warden's trial?" Dr. Whiting asked.
Willard shook his head. "That could make me the next target."
"Will you at least talk to the Prosecuting Attorney?"
"Depends if he's willing not to subpoena me."
Dr. Whiting sighed. "I'll see what I can do. We'll cross that bridge later."
"Kid, why did the Warden have such a vendetta toward you?"
Kid looked at Dr. Whiting."I'm afraid I can't answer that till after the trial," Kid replied.
"Well, I know it's not worth nothing, but I am sorry, Kid. You didn't deserve what you got.
The room grew silent for a while.
"Do you have anything else to tell us, Willard?" Dr. Whiting asked.
Stockman shook his head.
"Willard," Kid said, using the man's first name for the first time ever. "Thank you."
Stockman was finally able to raise his eyes and look Kid squarely in his eyes. He nodded respectfully but made no reply. The room remained silent until Stockman and the guard left.
"If I can convince Stockman to testify, he has the proof that this was all premeditated," Dr. Whiting explained.
Kid looked at Heyes, wondering if Danny Bilson would ever stop haunting him.
"Kid, you're gonna have to tell the Prosecutor about Danny, you know?"
Kid nodded.
"Who's Danny?" Dr. Whiting asked.
"Danny Bilson was the Warden's son. I killed him in a fair fight about six years ago."
"A fight Danny provoked, not Kid," Heyes further explained.
"So that is what the warden was after, revenge."
"And he had The Kid just where he wanted him."
"You should have told someone, Dr. Edwards or me..."
"I didn't know who the Warden was. I just learned his name a few days ago."
Kid was growing tired and decided to sit in the chair near the desk. But as he took a couple of steps, his legs wobbled. Heyes was out of his seat and at Kid's side in an instant to help him to the chair.
"Maybe you should stay another day to rest," Dr. Whiting suggested.
As tired as he was, Kid chuckled. "Even one day in prison when I don't have to be is one day too many. No, I'll rest just fine in a nice, soft, hotel feather bed."
"I'll help with the transfer tomorrow. It might take the both of us to get you up the hotel stairs," Dr. Whiting said.
"Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate that," Heyes replied. "In fact Kid and me appreciate a lot of things you've done."
"I have a feeling I'm gonna have a new-found energy walking out of here tomorrow," Kid added.
0-0-0-0-0-
The next morning Kid stood in the doorway of the admission building, a paper sack in his hands. Heyes walked on one side and Dr. Whiting on the other. An unarmed guard walked behind them.
Kid stepped out into the fresh air and took a deep, long inhalation of air and held it until his lungs protested. He exhaled slowly and smiled.
"God, Heyes, this must be what you felt when you walked outta here."
"Feels good, don't it?"
"More than that. I ain't never felt freedom before. But I sure do now."
They walked to the end of the lane. Kid walked independently but Heyes and Dr. Whiting were ready if needed. Kid did need a the help of a nudge getting into the surrey.
Their hotel was located in the center of Cheyenne, close to the courthouse and the prosecutor's office. Being more familiar with the city, Dr. Whiting had chosen the location and Heyes had checked out of his hotel that morning. Dr. Whiting had negotiated a special rate being as Heyes and Curry would be staying for a minimum of three weeks.
Kid obviously had only the ten dollars the prison issued him that morning, but Heyes had continued to add to his income through poker and paid for the room in advance. Kid could feel himself beginning to tire, but managed to climb the stairs to the second story on his own. Once in the room, Kid sat down on the bed, while Heyes began unpacking their things and storing them in drawers.
"Dr. Edwards will continue to see you on a weekly basis. That way he'll have a complete account of your health and progress for the trial," Dr. Whiting told Kid.
"Anybody want to go downstairs for breakfast?" Heyes asked.
Kid shook a weary head. "Afraid I need sleep more than food right now, Heyes," he explained.
"And I have to get back to work. Maybe another time," Dr. Whiting said.
"I'll walk you down," Heyes told the doctor. "Kid, I'm gonna get some breakfast. I'll bring you a plate when I come back."
Kid stretched himself out on the bed and nodded, but closed his eyes and quickly drifted off to sleep.
"Oh, Mr. Heyes," the desk clerk called as Heyes and Dr. Whiting descended the stairs. "You had no sooner gone upstairs then a message was delivered for Mr. Curry."
Heyes said good bye to the doctor, then walked over to the desk. "I'll see that he gets it," Heyes said and tucked the note in his shirt pocket before heading to the dining room for breakfast.
An hour later Heyes carried a breakfast plate and cup of coffee up to the room. Because one of his concerns was how thin Kid had become, Heyes had no qualms about waking his partner for the meal.
Kid scooted himself up so he could lean against the headboard and Heyes handed him the plate and placed the coffee on the nightstand.
"Oh, there was a message for you downstairs, too," he said, pulling the folded envelope from his pocket and handing it to Kid.
Kid opened the envelope and began reading. "It's just telling me to be at the Prosecutor's Office at nine-thirty on Wednesday," Kid explained. "He has to take a dep-o-sition. What's that, Heyes?"
"It's just your statement of everything that happened. They'll be a clerk there to write down everything you say."
"You're coming with me, ain't you?"
Heyes nodded. "If that's what you want Kid."
"Yep. That's what I want."
0-0-0-0-0-
"Jed Curry, Ma'am. I have an appointment with the Prosecutor at nine-thirty," Kid explained to the secretary when he and Heyes walked in to the office.
She looked at her appointment book. "Please, have a seat. Mr. Talbert will be with momentarily."
"Thank you, Ma'am," Kid replied.
Both dressed in their respective suits, Kid ran a finger along the inside of the collar of his shirt and stretched his neck a bit. It was more a movement stemming from a bit of nervousness as the shirt was anything but too tight.
"Mr. Curry," James Talbert said as he entered the receptionist's area and extended his hand.
Kid stood and shook the Prosecutor's hand. "This is Hannibal Heyes," Kid said in introduction.
"It's an honor to have such celebrities here. I'm afraid your reputations precede you gentlemen."
"Ah, we're kind of used to that Mr. Talbert," Kid replied.
Talbert smiled. "Come with me, gentlemen. We'll talk in my office. Miss. Wilson, I want no interruptions."
"Yes Sir, Mr. Talbert."
They followed Talbert down a hallway, passing several offices. Once inside Talbert's office, he ushered them into seats and poured them each some coffee.
"The Defense is trying to negotiate a plea bargain. I'm trying to gather all the facts before I even consider accepting such a request," Talbert explained.
"What kind of plea bargain?" Heyes asked.
"Oh, the details have yet to be decided upon Mr. Heyes. Once I have a clear view of the case, I'll listen to their offer, but I will also consult with my clients. I won't accept a plea bargain on a case I know I could win, especially if my clients would rather take the case to trial."
"How many clients you got for this case?" Kid asked.
"You Mr. Curry are the most important one. You are the victim here. But from what I have determined, the Warden abused his power to manipulate several guards as well as several prisoners."
"So they're all your clients, too?"
"In a manner of speaking. If this goes to trial, several will be providing key testimony."
"Mr. Talbert, I think there's an element to this... situation that you may not be aware of," Heyes said.
"If you're referring to Danny Bilson, Mr. Heyes, I've done my homework. I have the Matherville Sheriff's report on the shoot out."
"Kid was goaded into that fight with Danny. It's a long story, but it might be worth hearing," Heyes said.
Talbert smiled. "I'm all ears, gentlemen."
They spent a good twenty minutes telling the Prosecutor about the events leading to the shooting of Danny Bilson. Talbert asked several questions, but in the end, Talbert explained that while this was all very interesting, it would not be admissible in the trial. It would, however, provide him some background that could help him devise him some intriguing questions focusing on the Warden's state of mind and degree of premeditation.
Mr. Talbert then brought a stenographer into the room, explained his purpose to Kid, and began the questions needed to obtain Kid's deposition.
"Mr. Curry, why were you incarcerated in the Wyoming State Penitentiary?"
"At one time in my life Heyes and me was outlaws with the Devil's Hole Gang. We held up banks and trains mostly. We was eventually arrested and sentenced to twenty years."
"And how much of that sentence did you serve?"
"Four years and seven months."
"Each of you?"
"Heyes served four years and five months, then got paroled."
"Were you ever considered for parole Mr. Curry?"
"No, Sir."
"During your years of incarceration, were the two of you ever assigned the same cell block?"
"No, Sir."
"Why was that, Mr. Curry?"
"I don't know."
"Are prisoners assigned to cell blocks according to the crimes they've committed?"
"Not in my case Sir."
"And why do you say that?"
"All the other prisoners on my cell block had done some sort of violent crime."
"And robbing banks and trains is not considered a violent crime?"
"We never shot or hurt anyone, Sir."
Mr. Curry, when you first arrived at the prison, were you introduced to the Warden?"
"No, Sir. He was out of town."
At any time during your four years and seven months there, did you meet the Warden?"
"No Sir."
"Did you ever hear the Warden referred to by name?"
"No, Sir, not until a few days before I got paroled."
"So until that time you had no idea the Warden's last name was Bilson?"
"No, Sir."
"Would you have been concerned had you known the Warden's name?"
"Had I known there was a connection between the Warden and Danny Bilson, yes Sir, I would have been concerned. But without that knowledge, without knowing the Warden was Danny Bilson's father, I just don't know, Sir."
The Prosecutor knew the Defense would object to this question, but he also knew it would establish the possibility of motive and was keen on having both the question and Kid's response entered into the deposition.
The questioning continued for over two hours at this very slow pace, touching upon ever detail possible. As he was still recovering from injuries, Kid was exhausted at the conclusion of the deposition.
"We'll have your deposition typed up in a couple of days. You can either stop in to review and sign it, or I can send a Notary messenger to your hotel with it, Mr. Curry."
"We'll stop in Mr. Talbert," Kid replied.
Heyes could see how tired Kid was but suggested they go across the street to the saloon for some lunch. Kid was thirsty, but not the least bit hungry.
"Suppose there's a bar closer to the hotel?" Kid asked.
"I think there's one in the hotel, Kid."
"Then let's do that, so I can go to bed for a while afterwards."
At the hotel bar, they each ordered a sandwich and, despite the early hour, a beer. Kid drank the first beer quickly.
"Heyes, he had me talking for two hours straight. I'm thirsty," Kid explained as he ordered his second.
The second beer arrived with the sandwiches. Kid ate half of his and then announced he was heading upstairs for a nap. Heyes remained at the bar and finished his sandwich and beer slowly.
"Would you mind some company?"
Heyes looked up to see Dr. Whiting. "Kid just went upstairs to rest. He had a pretty grueling morning with the Prosecutor."
"Did it go well overall?"
"Yeah, I think so. He talked about the possibility of a plea bargain."
"Oh, I think that's pretty standard. I wouldn't be too concerned. If the prosecutor is confident he can win, he won't even consider a plea bargain."
"He said Kid would have some input on that decision."
Dr. Whiting looked surprised. "Do you think Mr. Curry would agree to a plea bargain, after all he's been through?"
"Well you see, that's the thing about Kid. He's never vengeful. Justice is one thing to Kid. Vengeance is another."
Dr. Whiting nodded. "Yes, I can see that about him. There's a compassion about him that doesn't really fit the image of an outlaw."
Heyes smiled. "Former outlaw, but otherwise you're right... Killing don't come easy to Kid."
"I don't think it comes easy to most people Mr. Heyes, at least I hope it doesn't."
"But Kid broods about it, sometimes for months."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"I'm guessing most everyone at the prison is hoping to see the Warden get what he deserves. I just think, what you all think he deserves and what Kid thinks he deserves might not be quite the same."
"After all he's been through? Four years of beatings? Four years of being deprived of seeing anyone on the outside? Four years of almost never seeing you?"
"You see, Kid don't look at it like that. When Kid thinks of the Warden, he sees a man who lost his son in a violent way and that he was in part responsible for that. He sees a man who likely never really knew his son, never knew the evil that boy was capable of. Like I said, Kid is just, but he ain't vengeful."
"Well, that is certainly admirable. I'm just not sure it's wise. You do realize any plea bargain decision is not Mr. Curry's decision to make? The Prosecutor will listen to his reasoning for or against, but ultimately it is the Prosecutor who makes that decision."
"I know. I just don't want you expecting one thing, and getting another."
"if Mr. Curry is sleeping, I'll... I'll stop back tomorrow. I just wanted to check in on how he's doing. You've pretty well answered that for me."
After Dr. Whiting left, Heyes went out and sat in a rocking chair on the porch for about an hour, wanting to give Kid a quiet, restful sleep. When he finally returned to the room, Kid was still lying on the bed, but was awake and rested.
"You sleep good?"
"Yeah. Thanks."
Heyes sat down on his bed and picked up the book he was reading.
"You want me to read to you for a while?"
"Uh?... No... Heyes, how much money have we got?"
Heyes had been very careful with their money, spending only on necessities, although he included poker as a necessity since it was the current source of their income.
"About four hundred. Why?"
"I've been thinking and, I need a gun and I'm gonna need a horse."
Heyes looked at Kid with some concern, but Kid lay with his hands behind his head, just casually looking at the ceiling.
"Kid, you're not...planning anything, are you?"
Kid shifted his head and looked quizzically at his partner. "What do you mean?"
Heyes relaxed. "Oh, nothing."
"Prison never kept you from playing poker, Heyes. You was still good at it when you got out."
Heyes had to agree. He had often played poker with the guards and some of the other prisoners, although not for money.
"But I didn't get to practice shooting, Heyes. I think it's about time I did. Hell, I don't even know where my own gun is."
"I think Lom might have it. We'll tell him to bring it when he comes for the trial."
Kid nodded. "Then I don't need no fancy gun now, but I do need something to practice with."
"How about my Schofield?"
Kid gave this some consideration. "It'll do, but I still need a horse."
"Okay."
"I'd like to go practice somewhere now, Heyes."
Heyes got up off the bed and went to the dresser where he counted out some money from their reserved.
"Okay, lets' go," he said, stuffing the money in his pocket. "My sorrel is at the livery on Eighth Street. Let's start there."
Kid smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Heyes."
0-0-0-0-0-
After purchasing a horse and necessary equipment, Heyes and Kid rode out of town to a field and Kid spent an hour practicing with his partner's gun. Kid found his accuracy was still very good, but speed was something else entirely. While his broken fingers were now fully healed and the exercises had improved his dexterity, Kid could detect the very subtle reaction delay of his trigger finger. He was still much faster than his partner, but was far from being considered the fastest gun in the west.
"I'm gonna hafta start practicing every day, Heyes."
"Kid, we're not wanted anymore. There's likely not a need to be as fast as you were," Heyes gently reminded him.
Kid twirled the gun and dropped it in the holster. "Not being wanted ain't gonna stop some from wanting to out shoot me, Heyes," Kid replied.
"Thaddeus Jones ain't known to be a fast gun."
Kid smiled. "That's true. But I ain't Thaddeus Jones no more, either."
Heyes smiled and nodded. "Okay, everyday," he replied.
After dropping their horses off at the livery, they walked back to the hotel to clean up before supper.
"Mr. Jones, a message for you," the clerk said as they entered the lobby.
"Kid walked over and took the note. "Thanks."
Once back in their room, Kid walked over to the window and opened the note.
"The Prosecutor wants to see us first thing in the morning. He says it's urgent."
"Bilson's lawyers probably requested a plea bargain," Heyes replied.
"Probably," Kid replied crumpling the note and tossing it in the trash basket.
Neither gave the matter a second thought.
The following morning they arrived at the Prosecutor's Office and sat patiently in the reception area. Both soon began wondering just how urgent the matter really was as they were left waiting for nearly an hour. Finally Mr. Talbert appeared and ushered them both into a conference room where they sat together on one side of the table. Talbert sat next to Kid.
"This is Samuel Steinburg, the lead defense lawyer representing Thomas Bilson," Talbert said.
Heyes and Kid both nodded a greeting.
"I'm afraid there has been a rather tragic turn of events, gentlemen," Talbert continued. "Mr. Bilson was found hanging in his cell late yesterday afternoon."
Kid slumped in his chair and slowly shook his head."
"He dead?" Heyes asked.
"No," Mr. Steinburg said. "But he's in the hospital and his survival is questionable."
"What's that got to do with us?" Heyes asked.
"Well, at the moment, we don't know if the trial will even proceed. If it does, it will be delayed by several weeks."
"We have to stay here for several more weeks?" Heyes asked indignantly.
"Heyes," Kid quietly reprimanded his partner.
"No, but you may have to return in a few weeks," Talbert explained.
Kid looked up at Mr. Steinburg. "I'm sorry Mr. Bilson felt pushed to that desperation," Kid said. "I hope he recovers."
Mr. Steinburg was surprised by Kid's compassion. "Thank you," Mr. Steinburg said, then sighed heavily. "If he does recover...The prognosis isn't good. The doctor's believe he was without oxygen long enough for significant brain damage."
"That means he may no longer even be aware of the crimes he's been charged with," Talbert explained. "We'll have to determine that he understands the charges before a trial can proceed."
"Mr. Talbert, you've got Kid's deposition, so Kid don't have to be present at the trial, right?"
"If there was a legitimate reason why he could not attend, the deposition can be admitted into trial. But Mr. Jones would likely be subpoenaed which would legally require his presence."
Kid shook his head. "I won't come back," he said quietly. "Mr. Bilson has been though enough. He's already paying for his crimes and he hasn't even been convicted. I won't add to his burden. I've already caused him enough burden."
"You've caused him enough burden?" Mr. Steinburg asked. "After what he allegedly did to you for over four years?"
"What he did is done and over with, Mr. Steinburg. But he won't ever get over what I did, even if it weren't my fault."
"So, you two will be leaving town?" Talbert asked.
"Heyes, Sir," Heyes said and Kid slowly nodded in agreement.
"And you'll leave no forwarding address?"
"No, Sir."
"I can always contact Sheriff Trevers..."
"We've got no reason to keep Lom informed about our whereabouts, Mr. Talbert."
"Failure to return without a valid reason, could result in a warrant for Mr. Curry's arrest," Talbert explained.
"I'm willing to take that risk, Mr. Talbert... And even if I did return, I won't testify. Not now, not after what's happened."
"You'd be declared a hostile witness, Mr. Curry, and if you continued to refuse, you would again be incarcerated."
"I told you I'm willing to take that risk. Besides, I don't think either one of you is so cold-hearted as to try a man who don't know what he's being tried for."
Talbert looked at Steinburg.
"Gentlemen," Talbert said to Heyes and Kid. "I'm going to ask the two of you to wait in the reception area for a few minutes. Mr. Steinburg and I have to talk."
Heyes stood up. "Come on, Kid," Heyes said and both men left the room.
"You don't often come across someone with that much character and compassion," Steinburg told Talbert.
"No," Talbert agreed.
Steinburg sighed heavily. "You're the Prosecutor, James. What do you propose?"
"I think Mr. Curry is right. I think we take Mr. Bilson's license from him permanently... and we drop the case."
Mr. Steinburg nodded.
"I'll draw up the paperwork this afternoon," Talbert replied.
Steinburg nodded. Better bring them back in here to let them know.
Talbert got up and headed for the reception area.
"Where are Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry?" Talbert asked the receptionist when he saw the room was empty.
"They said you had finished with them and they left," she explained.
Talbert sighed heavily. "They're right," he sighed.
0-0-0-0-0-
"You think Talbert will get in touch with Lom?" Kid asked an hour later as they rode out of town.
"I doubt it. I got the impression Talbert thought the same way you did about going ahead with the trial."
"I couldn't do that to him, Heyes."
"I know."
"So, if he ain't going to go ahead with the trial, you think it's safe to go to Porterville?"
"Why do you want to go there?"
"Cause you said Lom still has my gun. You know, right now, you're the only one with a gun. You're the one watching our backs, Heyes."
Heyes gave this some thought, then reached down and pulled his gun from it's holster.
"Here, Kid," Heyes said, handing the gun to Kid who gave him a questioning look.
Heyes smiled. "Even if you are a little slower than you used to be, Kid. You're still the better aim. You're still the better choice to be watching our backs."
Kid face broke into a broad smile. "Glad to see you still know how to plan ahead, Heyes."
"We'll stop outside of Porterville and I'll ride in and get your gun," Heyes said.
"Better pick up some cleaning oil and cloths while you're there. I got four years of grime to get off that gun," Kid said with happy anticipation.
They rode several miles in silence.
"Heyes?"
"Yeah?"
"You think I'm doing the right thing?"
"Kid, I can't think of anything more noble and more right than what you're doing."
"You think I'm ever gonna be rid of Danny Bilson?"
"I think you just took a very big step toward being rid of him... I don't think I've ever been more proud of you, Kid."
"I didn't do it to make you proud, you know?"
"I know."
"I'm proud of you, too, Heyes."
"You are? Why?"
Kid shrugged. "I'm just proud to have you for a partner."
Heyes smiled. "Come on, Kid. Let's go get your gun."