CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MONDAY – NARRATTED BY KID CURRY
"Isn't he gorgeous? Isn't he…? I'm still furious with you, Nell! Awwww! Look! Look! He's smiling! I'm your Dada! Yes, I am! Yes, I am! Hello!"
Charles is not still furious with Nell. Charles is so far sunk into the sap zone that he won't be furious with no one for months. Least of all Nell. Mind you, he has some excuse. She did deliver his son.
I go over, tickle a tiny cheek. Hey! Look at that! He's gripping my finger! Tiny, tiny fingers grasping mine! Those nails are SO small and SO perfect! Aww!
"Heye…" I call. Sheesh! That was close! "Hey, Joshua! Come take a look at this! Look at his grip!"
"Amazing," grunts Heyes. "A baby that grasps fingers put into his hand. Shall we add that to the stuff Charles telegraphed to the city papers?"
Nell snirts.
Hey! Pffftttt to that pair! I beam at Ann. "He's beautiful," I say. Look! Now he's blowing a bubble! Aww!
"So, this was part of your plan, huh?" glowers Heyes at the doc. "I hope you're proud of yourself! If you wanna be a martyr, go ahead! But, did you hafta drag Mrs. Buchanan and Charles and even an innocent newborn into it?"
Nell blinks at the tone. So do I. Sheesh, Heyes. I know the girls have done one of the dumbest things I ever heard of, but there's no need to sound so… And, even if there were, I don't reckon now's the time.
"All that guff you told us about it being much safer not to move Ann, once labour had started; how this place could be made perfectly clean and safe if we fetched your stuff… That was just you chumping us to get your own way, huh?"
What's got into Heyes? Oh! I bet I know. He's all riled up 'cos he didn't catch on quicker to what the gals were gonna do, huh?
"No," says Ann, quietly. She lifts her eyes from the crumpled, roseleaf face nestled in the nook of her arm gives Heyes a very straight look. "It wasn't. Yes, we tried to time things correctly. Yes, Nell was stalling until labour started, but what she said about staying put being better than bumping me home on a wagon was perfectly true. What she said about boiling water, carbolic soap and plenty of clean linen being all that was needed to make this a perfectly safe delivery area was also true." She holds Heyes gaze. "If you don't know Nell doesn't lie, least of all about medical matters, and that she would never put a patient at risk for her own ends, you don't know her at all, Joshua."
He glances at me. I think he sees I'm with Ann on this. Heyes is outta order.
He reaches out, touches Nell's hand. "I didn't mean that, huh?" Their eyes meet.
"I know," she says.
"I'm just mad at you."
"I know."
"Suppose the pair of you get sent to real prison? Y'know, one where the doors have locks and you're not allowed to send home for your bag."
"We won't. Certainly Ann won't. Not for a first offence. Our opponents won't want the publicity of parting a mother and child. If I go to prison, well – it's a risk I'm prepared to take. But, I won't, either."
"Sez you!"
"Says Will Rutherford, too."
"Oh, well! If Will Rutherford says so! I take it the Oracle at Delphi was tied up, huh?" Heyes gets a surprised look and I reckon realises that came out mean bearing in mind that… Well, bearing in mind Will's been kinda a good loser. He flashes Nell a 'sorry' glance.
"Don't worry. We won't be jailed, we'll be fined. Our friends in the Suffrage Association will already be collecting funds by now." Her turn to touch him, she lays a hand on his shoulder and repeats, "Don't worry."
I don't think he means to do it but his hand goes up to cover hers. Just for a second their fingers lace. But all he says is, "It's you should be worrying, not me."
The hands part. Heyes, still riled, starts up again, "You shouldn'ta done it and you shouldn'ta dragged Ann into…"
"I wasn't dragged!" protests Ann. "Don't you see, I had to be involved. I'm the angle!"
"Huh?" That was me.
"Stories need an angle," explains Heyes. "A hook to draw folk in."
"Uh huh," I nod. Like con tricks? I get that.
"A female doctor being arrested for breaching the Comstock Act is news," chips in Nell. "It offers a little temptation for the prurient and a professional woman still has a novelty value, BUT – it lacks a certain something. It lacks that extra hook. You heard Charles. A fair amount of interest. AND, me doing it alone risked being dismissed with the usual tricks used to belittle any argument made by women campaigners."
"Tricks?" What tricks?
"Oh, you know, Thaddeus," says Heyes. "They'd twist it to make it read like the doc's a dried up spinster, left on the shelf, past the first flush of youth, losing any looks she ever had, eaten up with frustrated bile…"
Nell interrupts him, with a glare. "They'd portray any unmarried woman as bitter about not having a man of her own and trying to stop other women fulfilling their maternal role. OR, they'd hint that I'm only interested in Malthusian methods to allow me to…" She blushes.
"I get that one," I say.
"But, what this pair worked out is that 'baby born in jail to birth control campaigner,' gives a whole extra gloss," explains Heyes. "AND, that Ann's perfect for the press if you wanna avoid the usual tricks. A new mother. Happily married. Devoted husband at her side. Glowing with domestic bliss. It gives a perfect picture to back up the 'every child, a wanted child' message; and it delivers a huge dollop of human interest." He looks over at Nell, part angry, part reluctant admiration. "You cast Ann as the main event and settled for a supporting role, yourself; loyal friend delivers baby in cell – and it'll work! In a day or two this place'll be crawling with newspapermen wanting to know all about why the pair of you did it and itching for an interview. You're gonna get what you want, a show trial on Comstock. You did it."
Oh! I see what's eating at Heyes! For a week or so, maybe more, this quiet little town is gonna get real noisy. Lotsa nosey journalists trying to dig up something to make their take on the story stand out. We're only bit players, but we still won't like that! Lotsa photographers taking pictures. We won't like that, neither. And, won't the fuss over what he's calling a show trial mean Bill Fraser'll call in a few extra lawmen to make sure everything stays peaceful? I reckon so. And, I reckon we'll like that least of all.
We're gonna hafta leave town. Heyes sees that, don't he? And, we won't know how long the fuss'll last, so we won't be able to promise when we'll be back.
He knew though! He knew we'd hafta leave sometime.
'Course, Nell'll think he's running out on her just when she's about to need support, but…
He shoulda listened to me.
He shoulda never…
Shoulda. Coulda. Woulda.
I shrug. I guess we've all been there. I sure have. Some years I practically lived there.
He will see it, though, won't he? He'll see we hafta go.
"Joshua, I reckon we oughta leave," I say. "Let Ann and Charles have some time alone with this little fella." I tickle a cheek again. Hey! He looked at me. I give him a tiny wave and big smile, see Heyes looking at me as if I've gone mad, drop my hand and wipe the mushy grin off my face.
"I'm bailing Ann out in a few hours," smiles Charles. "Nell says she'll be fine, so long as we take the drive real slow."
"Doctor Cooper's already been in to say he's got a whole list of extra calls and he could do with me manning the surgery," says Nell. "Then I'll go back to Ann's place. Theoretically, to make sure she and little Charles are fine. Actually, since it's obvious they're both fighting fit, to give Aunt Miriam a chance to simmer down. So, it'll be Wednesday morning before I get back to my usual routine." She pauses. Did she just flick a look at Heyes? I dunno. I was looking at Charles Junior. He's yawing and it's the cutest thing you've ever seen. "Or maybe I'll get back to normal – that is, back to normal rounds by midday tomorrow. At least, that is, until the trial."
"We'll say good bye for now, then," grunts Heyes, still looking grim.
---oooOOOooo---
Out in the street, I look at him.
"We oughta leave, Heyes."
Nothing.
""It'd be safer…"
"No reason to think anyone we know'll show up, Kid."
Oh, for Pete's sake.
"So, you were doin' your bad-tempered jackass act back there 'cos you're all riled up at there being no problem at all 'bout stayin' in town, huh? C'mon, Heyes! I told you yesterday, it's time to move on. Now, I'm tellin' you again. Even if this hadn't happened, we gotta move on."
Nothing. I try a different – what was it – oh, yeah, angle.
"Look on the bright side, we got at least a day in hand. This time we can make up a telegram coming in, give some reason. Say good bye properly."
Heyes stops, scowls at the ground, kicks up a little dirt. He's weighing the odds. If he gives me the 'we're not joined at the hip, Kid' talk again, am I gonna call his bluff, quit town and leave him to it? Deep down, I know I'm not. 'Cos, deep down, I know he ain't bluffing.
I see the sheriff striding back towards his office. He spots us, comes over.
"I've been wiring the county hall 'bout a trial," he says. "I've also wired a judge who's an old friend of mine. I dunno if he can sit, but even if he can't, he can come see fair play." He's talking to Heyes more'n me, being almost fatherly. "I gotta go by the book, that don't mean I don't care what happens. I thought I'd tell you, in case you were worrying. I'll go put Charles' mind at rest now."
Heyes says, "Thanks, Sheriff." Then, looks kinda sheepish. I guess it's 'cos Bill Fraser acts like there's not much doubt Heyes and Nell are a couple, in near enough the same way Charles and Ann are.
The trouble with Heyes is, he don't realise his poker face keeps slipping when the doc's around. This sheriff might believe in the benefit of the doubt for newcomers who don't cause no trouble, but he's not dumb and he's not blind, neither.
"Are you tellin' us, you're aiming to fix the trial to get the girls off?" I ask. 'Cos if he is – it might be the nearest to crooked Fraser's ever been – but, it sure suits me.
"No!" He shifts his feet. "Not to get 'em off. I'm simply trying to get a fair-minded, decent man sitting on the bench. Someone who'll understand that, even if he don't agree with printing that stuff, they're doin' it for... Well, y'know."
Yeah, we know. Just seems the best of motives can stir up trouble same as the worst, huh?
"I'm hoping Hanley'll be here by…"
D*MN it! I flick a glance at Heyes; without actually moving, his whole body kinda sags with the blow. For once, there's no exchange of the 'look' between us; Heyes is on his own with this.
"…Like I say, he's an old friend, if things work out maybe he'll stay on for a little fishing. It's been over a year."
It just keeps getting better, huh? Someone involved with the law who don't just know Heyes and Curry by sight, but knows our aliases too. If we leave, he'll probably still hear about us and put two and two together. Even if he don't, it sounds like he visits every so often anyhow. Great!
'Course, there's a glimmer of a silver lining. Judge Hanley is a decent fella and he knows we're working hard at staying straight. If he DOES figure out who the Smith and Jones who spent a coupla months in Arcadia (without giving the Sheriff a sniff of trouble) were, I don't see him filling in Bill Fraser and rounding up a posse. On the downside; no way do I see him letting Heyes carry on – whatever, I dunno – with a respectable girl who don't know the truth.
We can't risk staying. No way.
Even if Heyes wanted to gamble on Hanley's good nature one more time, sheer surprise could make the man give us away on sight.
"Oh," the Sherriff's remembered something, "…There was a telegram for you at the depot, Smith. I said I'd pass it on." He digs in his pocket, holds it out.
Heyes freezes for a moment. A wire for him? Did Fraser read it? Did it say anything – suspicious? Can't have done, can it? Not the way the sheriff's behaving.
"Thanks," I smile, taking it from Fraser's gloved fingers.
He nods a farewell.
"It'll be from Lom," says Heyes. "I wired him while you were away, asking for news." I see his hands are clenched so tight, his knuckles must shine white under the battered leather. "If this was a dime novel, Kid, this'd be when the amnesty came through, huh? Perfect timing."
His voice tries to sound light-hearted, but…
"Don't milk it, Kid. Read."
I unfold the slip of paper. Please. Please. Please. Sheesh! My hand's steady enough, years of practice, huh? But I feel hairs rising on the back of my neck. I know it won't say nothing. I KNOW that! But, please! Please!
I read. It IS from Lom. It IS about 'our mutual friend'.
Silence. Me and Heyes, we're the stillest things in that quiet, quiet street.
I can hear Heyes breathing. I can even hear him hoping.
His eyes plead with me.I don't wanna…
C'mon, Kid, c'mon. Come ON! TELL him!
I can't. Not this time. Instead, I screw the useless telegram into a ball, throw it down, grind it into the dirt with my heel.
---oooOOOooo---
LATER – NARRATTED BY KID CURRY
"Look on the bright side, Kid," sighs Heyes, as he raises his hand to knock on the Buchanan's door. "At least I don't hafta make up a wire coming in. We got us a witness to that bit."
We're here to say goodbye. We ride out tomorrow.
What choice do we have?
---oooOOOooo---
END OF PART TWO
---oooOOOooo---