Doors and Windows

(Before you decide to skip over a major character death story, let me explain that this story evolved from some ponderance about what would have happened had the S-3 season not occurred, but a final tribute episode had been permitted. This is my attempt at that story. The title comes from the saying 'when a door closes, a window opens').

0-0-0-0-0

The entire Devil's Hole gang stood silently around the freshly dug grave deep in the woods near the stream that ran through the forest of Devil's Hole. A wooden casket with three ropes wrapped around it rested at the foot of the grave ready to be lowered into the ground.

Kid curry stood near the head of the grave, a black hat clutched in his hands, his head bowed, the combination of sweat and tears on his cheeks glistening in the sun. Next to him, at the head of the grave, stood Preacher, his black, tattered Bible lay closed in his hands as he had just completed his offering of a short sermon.

"Anyone got something more to say?" Preacher asked.

Nervous eyes looked about and came to rest on Kid Curry, but his voice remained silent, and his head remained bowed.

"Then I guess it's time to lay Hannibal Heyes to rest," Preacher announced.

Kid, Preacher, Wheat, Kyle, Lobo, and Hank each reached down and gathered one of the ropes in their hands, then raised the casket and moved with slow, sideways steps until the casket hovered over the grave. With a silent count to three, they gently lowered the casket into the ground, then carefully. tossed the ends of the rope in so they fell to the sides of the wooden box.

Still without uttering a word, Kid took one long last final look at the black hat with silver concho studs and a small hole in the tip, then leaned down and gently released the hat so it came to rest on the top of the casket. A moment passed before Kid then reached for a handful of dirt and tossed it into the grave. Bits of the dirt hit the wooden box with a soft thud. Kid stood and pinched the bridge of his nose while each gang member also tossed a handful of dirt into the grave….

0-0-0-0-0

Kid sat alone on the porch of the leader's cabin, an almost fully spent bottle of whiskey in one hand and no sign of a shot glass. The sun had nearly disappeared beneath the crest of the mountains and the heavily forested compound brought a hastened darkness to the approaching night. Wheat, Kyle, and Preacher had all been keeping a distant but watchful eye on the grieving man since the gang had returned from the funeral.

"How long you think he's just gonna sit there?" Kyle asked from the kitchen window of the bunkhouse.

Wheat leaned over Kyle's shoulder to peer out the window. "I guess I'd better go have a talk with him," he muttered.

"You sure that's a good idea, Wheat? He is still wearing his gun."

Wheat sniffled, then snorted as he stood and gave the waist of his pants a tug. "I ain't afraid of the likes of Kid Curry," he boasted. "Besides, he's too drunk to aim straight," he added before strutting his way to the door.

Wheat looked up as he made his way to the porch and saw Kid sitting with his chin resting on his chest and his eyes closed. Yet, when the heel of Wheat's boot struck against the wooden step, Kid opened surprisingly clear eyes. Wheat stopped abruptly on the top step when he saw Kid looking at him.

"What do you want?" Kid asked, his voice quiet but void of any interest.

"Me and the boys were… I mean…. Are you alright?"

Kid's eyes left Wheat as he looked out into the dark woods. "I'll be leaving in the morning."

Wheat cleared his voice nervously. "Well, if that's the case… maybe I could talk to you about something, Kid."

Kid looked back at Wheat and he gave a consenting nod toward the empty chair. Wheat took cautious steps and sank slowly into the seat.

"What's on your mind?" Kid asked as he again closed his eyes and dropped his chin.

"Well, I've been givin' this a lot of thought ever since you showed up with... with Heyes the other day," Wheat said before his voice trailed off into silence.

"Giving what a lot of thought?" Kid asked without changing his position.

When Wheat remained silent, Kid slowly raised and turned his head toward him. But Wheat still said nothing and instead just studied the bits of mud on his boots. Kid extended the nearly empty bottle which right away gained Wheat's attention.

"Liquid courage," Kid explained.

Wheat smiled nervously as he took the offering and downed a large gulp.

"Whenever you're ready," Kid told him.

Wheat took a deep breath and felt the burn in his throat intensify. "First off, we're all real sorry about Heyes," Wheat said.

Kid nodded slightly, acknowledging the condolence. "And second?"

"Well, I've been givin' it a lot of thought…"

"You said that already."

"Yeah. Kid… with Heyes… gone… are you still going for that amnesty?"

Kid rolled both his head and his eyes. Amnesty was definitely the last thing on his mind. "Why?"

"Well, I was thinkin' that, well maybe there's be a spot open for me."

Deep lines framed Kid's brow and he pulled himself up in the chair. With his mouth agape, Kid looked Wheat straight in the eyes. "You wanna seek an amnesty?"

Suddenly very self-conscious, Wheat shrugged and broke the gaze he had tried to hold with Kid. "I figure it might be worth a try."

"You mean on your own or…."

"Well, there is strength in numbers, Kid."

"Partners?"

"I know it ain't the same as you and Heyes but…"

"No," Kid said emphatically. "No Wheat. I had a partner. I ain't looking for a replacement."

"I ain't looking to replace nobody, Kid. It's like me and Kyle. There ain't nobody that could replace Kyle."

It was Kid's turn to be silent. He rubbed an open palm across his mouth and chin and looked again toward the dark woods, all the while slowly shaking his head. "You talked to Kyle about this?" Kid asked.

Wheat nodded. "He'd…. He'd stay here with the gang. He's a bit set in his ways; you know."

"I can give you the name of a man to talk to. He's the sheriff in Porterville, Lom Trevers. But you're on your own with this, Wheat. I'm sorry."

Wheat looked off into the distance. "It's late. I'd best get back to the bunkhouse."

Wheat pulled himself out of the chair and stood for a moment. Without another word, he handed the whiskey bottle back to Kid, stepped off the porch and crossed the compound to the bunkhouse.

Kid had intended to sleep in his old room in the leader's cabin, but when he went inside for another bottle of whiskey he was accosted with memories and images of Heyes. Everywhere he looked he could see Heyes sitting or standing somewhere in the room, his dimpled smile, his dark eyes, his tattered black hat. Kid tried to shake the images from his mind, but the whiskey had washed away rational thought and the apparitions were unrelenting. He pulled the last bottle from the shelf and headed back into the cold night air.

At dawn, and now his fourth night of little or no sleep, Kid made his way to the barn. There he saddled his horse and rode slowly and silently out of Devil's Hole, not once looking back. Kid let the golden-brown chestnut set the pace. His mind still clouded from the whiskey, he had no plan or direction in mind. Occasionally he'd nod off, but never for more than a few minutes. He hadn't eaten or slept in days.

"Maybe we ought to check in with Lom."

"We!"

The sound of his own voice startled him awake and he pulled hard on the reins to bring the horse to a halt, then looked around quickly to be sure the voice had not originated from someplace else. Satisfied, he leaned forward and patten the horse's mane. "Did you hear him too, Old Boy? Maybe he's right. Don't know where else to go," Kid mused aloud. He leaned back and sat up straight then gave the reins a hard tug to the north.

0-0-0-0-0

Sheriff Lom Trevers worked long hours to keep his town orderly and safe. Up at sunrise and home again well after dark, he had little time for leisure and no time for any sort of social life. Living alone in a cabin a few miles out of town, his home was his refuge. Most nights he got home between nine or ten and would pour himself a shot of whiskey and sit out on his small porch to wash away the tensions of the day.

He had heard the news of the death of Hannibal Heyes and had telegraphed the Cody sheriff to verify the information. Once confirmed, Lom had notified the governor and had tried to contact Kid to no avail. He knew Kid would take Heyes to Devil's Hole to be buried and he knew that Kid understood just why he could not be present among a band of outlaws and would not attend the funeral.

So, seeing Kid Curry slumped in a chair on his cabin porch did not surprise Lom in the least. Neither was he surprised by Kid's disheveled appearance. He obviously hadn't shaved, and likely hadn't bathed in nearly two weeks. He looked thin and almost small.

The sound of horse hooves woke Kid from a short and troubled sleep, and he opened bloodshot eyes to watch Lom approach and climb off his horse.

"I was hoping you'd be stopping by. I tried to reach you when I heard the news, but I suspect by then you were on your way to Devil's Hole," Lom said as he stepped up onto the porch. "You want a drink?"

Kid nodded and Lom disappeared into the cabin, returning moments later with a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses. He sat down and filled both glasses and handed one to Kid. "To Heyes," he said and clinked his glass against Kid's glass.

Kid downed half his glass in one gulp while Lom made a point of appearing not to notice.

"You want to talk about it?" Lom asked though he was already familiar with the details from the return telegram sent by the Cody sheriff.

"Couldn't be avoided," was the only bit of information Kid offered.

"He's buried at Devil's Hole?"

Kid nodded.

"The governor's willing to grant him a posthumous amnesty," Lom said but was not surprised to get no reaction from Kid.

"Alright if I stay here a day or two?" Kid asked, his voice strained and tired.

"You can stay as long as you need to, Kid. I've got a spare bedroom and you look like you could use a week's worth of sleep."

Again, Kid nodded. "I just need some time to think things through."

"Like I said, all the time you need. When did you eat last? I can fix you something before you go to bed," Lom offered.

Kid shook his head and downed the last of the whiskey in his glass. "You don't mind Lom; I think I'll go and try to get some sleep."

"I'll likely be gone by the time you're up in the morning, but I'll leave a pot of coffee ready to be warmed and some bread, bacon, and eggs on the table."

Kid nodded and headed for the cabin door. He stopped in the doorway and turned back when Lom called to him.

"Kid, it takes time and there's nothing you can do to rush it. The day will come when you'll find yourself smiling at a pretty girl again or sitting down at a poker table without expecting Heyes to be there."

"Good night, Lom," Kid replied, not believing a word Lom had just spoken.

He walked down to the spare bedroom and closed the bedroom door behind him. He had quickly come to realize that nights were the most difficult as his mind bombarded him with images of that fateful night in Cody. He didn't bother to light a lamp and instead sat down on the bed and pulled off his boots, then laid down and clasped his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling.

You've got to go. You've got to know the answer before you decide your fate.

"Stop it, Heyes," he said aloud in the darkness. "I can't think straight when you do that!"

Best get used to it cause a little thing like dying ain't gonna stop me from watching your back."

"Shut up. I mean it."

Don't fight it. I'm always going to play the Devil's Advocate for you. Eventually it's gonna seem as normal as our partnership, cause that's all it is. We've always known what the other was thinking, so why would that be any different now?

"Fine, I can't stop you. Just let me get some sleep!"

0-0-0

Perhaps it was the combination of the whiskey and exhaustion or perhaps the fact that he was away from Devil's Hole and the constant reminder of his partner's grave, but Kid slept fourteen hours, waking up at two in the afternoon. He hadn't bothered to take off his clothes when he fell into bed the previous night and the first thing he was aware of was the combination of dirt, sweat, and leather that had settled into the very fabric of his shirt and underclothes. He climbed out of bed intending to visit the outhouse but paused when he caught a glimpse of himself in the dressing mirror.

His eyes were bloodshot with dark circles beneath them, giving his eyes a sunken appearance. His cheeks were beginning to look hollow and the coarse, scruffy beard that hung below his chin was peppered with bits of dirt. He ran one hand down the beard as he studied himself in the mirror and wondered if this was what he had become.

0-0-0-0-0

Lom had asked Deputy Harker to begin his shift four hours early, letting Lom return to his cabin in time for supper. He breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Kid's laundry hanging on the clothesline to dry. He rode his horse to the barn and got the animal settled for the night before heading inside the cabin.

Inside he found Kid dressed in clean clothes and although not clean shaven, the beard had been trimmed close to the face.

"I wasn't sure when you'd be back," Kid told him. "I've got rabbit stew cooking on the stove. It should be ready in an hour or so."

"You managed to get some sleep?' Lom asked.

Kid nodded as he carried two bowls and spoons to the table. "And a bath I reckon you'll be glad to know."

"I could tell that when I walked in here."

Kid flashed an embarrassed smile and lowered his eyes. "I guess fourteen hours of sleep got me thinking straighter."

"And just how far does that straight thinking go?" Lom asked.

Kid eased into a chair at the table where Lom was already seated. "I've still got some things to figure out and yeah Lom, amnesty is one of em."

"Kid, after all the time you and Heyes have put into getting your amnesty, you can't quit now. You're too close to getting it."

Kid sighed and used his thumb to scratch his eyebrow. "Like I said, I ain't figured that out yet. I do know I'm tired of runnin' and never spending more than two nights in one place, and always looking over my shoulder."

Being a former outlaw himself, Lom knew exactly what the Kid was saying. It wasn't a life suitable for any descent man, and Kid Curry was about as descent as any outlaw could be.

"Well like I said last night, you can stay here as long as you need to. Just don't make your presence known in town It wouldn't bode well for the Sheriff to be housing an outlaw in his home."

Kid's smile was sad but knowing. "To tell you the truth Lom, I think I'll be leaving tomorrow. I've got a friend that's always been real close to me and Heyes. I owe it to her to tell her face to face… you know… about Heyes."

"She?" Lom asked.

"A friend, Lom. And I suppose I ought to tell you that you might be getting a visit from Wheat Carlson. He's considering seeking amnesty. I told him to pay you a visit."

"You're turning me into quite the goodwill ambassador. If I ever give up being a sheriff, I can always make a living negotiating amnesty deals for outlaws."

Kid grinned. "Nobody better at that than you."

0-0-0-0-0

Be firm Kid, and don't take no for an answer.

"That's the best you can come up with?" Kid muttered and he rode south from Porterville toward Denver. "It's Clem, Heyes. She might not have a silver tongue or a fast draw, but that pouty face and them puppy dog eyes of hers could charm a cobra headlining a holy-roller revival."

Kid waited to hear his partner's response but the familiar voice in Kid's mind did not reply, and the only sounds his ears picked up were the steady clops of his horse's hooves.

He uttered a heavy sigh. He was becoming accustomed to engaging in his half imaginary conversations with Heyes and wondered how his partner still managed to win most of their thoughts-only arguments. "Hell, you'd probably still win the coin tosses," Kid mumbled. "But I toss the coins from here on in," he added.

Still, he could not summon a thoughtful retort from his partner. It was the silence he found most difficult as it beckoned him into the dark reality of being alone. He pushed his hat back and off his head, letting the stampede straps control just where it landed against his back. Thick white clouds kept the glare of the sun from causing him to squint, and he looked off across the fields toward the snow-capped mountains.

Oblivious to the beauty, Kid cursed the recent turn of events that had landed him alone and talking to a ghost.

"Still as stubborn as always," he grumbled in a low voice, then tilted his face toward the sky. "And I ain't talking about me!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

0-0-0-0-0

Kid knocked three times on the cabin door. "Clem, it's me," he said loud enough for her to hear.

In all prior visits Clem had swung the door open and jumped into the arms of Kid or Heyes. But this time the door opened, and Clementine stood in the threshold gazing at Kid with sad, soulful eyes. She pushed open the screen door and reached out to grasp his arm in her hands.

"I take it you've heard," Kid said and wrapped his free arm about her.

Clem nodded and gently tugged at his arm. "Come in."

She led him into the house and over to the kitchen table where a full bottle of whiskey and a single shot glass sat in the center of the table. "I bought that the day I read about Heyes in the newspaper. I knew you'd come by as soon as you could. You must be hungry. I'll fix you something to eat."

Kid poured himself a shot of whiskey while Clem set about making him a sandwich.

"The article was pretty sketchy and called him Joshua Smith," Clem said as she worked.

"No one had any reason to suspect he was anyone other than Joshua Smith. Only folks that know us, and the governor of course, know he was Hannibal Heyes," Kid explained. "That made it easy for me to take him to Devil's Hole."

"You did that alone?" Clem asked and brought the sandwich to the table.

Kid nodded. "The boys were all there for the funeral."

Clem sat down at the table and rested her chin and cheek in her open palm. "The newspaper didn't say what happened."

Remember Kid, this is Clem you're talking to. Telling her the details is only gonna upset her more.

Kid gave his partner an acknowledging nod. "I don't know myself exactly," he lied. "Heyes and me had been in Cody for a couple of days. One night we headed to the saloon for some poker. I went back to the hotel early and fell asleep and Heyes stayed to play a few more hands. Sometime after midnight the sheriff came knocking on my hotel door.

"But what happened?"

Kid wrapped his open hand across his mouth and chin. He hadn't spoken of the details to anyone, not even Wheat and the boys at Devil's Hole.

Clem could see how much Kid struggled with telling her the details. "Talking about it helps you heal."

Kid let his hand drop from his face and he reached into his pocket and pulled out a dented gold pocket watch with a shattered crystal and held it in his open palm. He eyes stayed focused on the watch when he spoke. "You're wrong Clem…. I ain't gonna heal…. If I'd stayed, if I'd been there…."

Not knowing what to say, Clem reached for the whiskey bottle and filled the glass and offered the glass to Kid. He took the glass but set it down on the table and leaned into the back of the chair.

"It's been a long ride Clem. You mind if I go get some sleep?"

Clem shook her head but could find no words that might bring Kid comfort.

Kid didn't move from his chair and instead wrapped his hand loosely about the whiskey glass. He didn't raise the glass, but his thumb moved slowly across the edge and down the side of the glass. "He talks to me," Kid confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not all the time but…."

"You're so lucky."

"Lucky?"

"The two of you we so close you always knew what the other was thinking. Heck, there were times your every movement was the same, like looking in a mirror. You're so close that not even death can keep you apart."

Kid raised his eyes to meet Clem's. "Yeah, maybe that's it."

"You know the saying about when a door closes, a window opens?" Clem asked.

Kid's mouth curled into a sad grin. "Grandpa Curry used to say that. He was usually referring to all the drafts in the house, though."

Clem found his comment amusing and took that as a good sign that Kid wasn't falling into some dark abyss of depression. "Your grandpa sounds pretty practical."

"Or contrary."

"I think some of that certainly rubbed off on you and Heyes."

"Well, at least it was one of his good qualities. I'm going to bed."

0-0-0-0-0

Clem filled the cabin with the smell of fried bacon and coffee and was not surprised when Kid appeared in the kitchen rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Morning."

"Is that what you call this hour of the day?" Kid asked.

"How did you sleep?"

Kid sunk into a chair at the table and Clem quickly put a steaming cup of hot coffee in front of him. "I'll have eggs and toast and bacon ready in a minute."

The sat together at the table engaging in some small talk while they ate and then lingered over a second, and in Kid's case, a third cup of coffee.

"Clem, there were a couple of reasons I came here. The first one we talked about last night."

"So what's the second reason?"

"As you well know, this amnesty that Heyes and me was after was supposed to only take a year, but it's been three now and…."

"I thought I read that the governor gave you both the amnesty after what happened."

Kid shook his head. "He granted Heyes a posthumous amnesty, but I think his reason was just so that no one could go and try to claim the reward if someone was to find out who Joshua Smith really was. He did that to save the railroads and Cattleman's Association some money. He's still stringing me along."

"I think I know where this is going but, go on."

"Well, I've decided I'm not playing that game no more."

"You're going back to outlawing?" Clem asked with alarm.

"No, no," Kid assured her. "But when this got dragged out into a third year, Heyes and me decided we just weren't gonna do it no more and, we were gonna pack up and move to Mexico or Canada. I've decided I'm still gonna do that."

Clem set her cup down with a thud. "You mean I'm never gonna see you again?"

"Of course not, Clem. I wouldn't let that happen. You're like family, and you're the only family I've got now."

Clem smiled knowing Kid thought of her that way. "Which bring us to the second reason?"

"The picture. It's worrisome to me knowing it's out there, Clem."

Clem got up and walked to the China cupboard and pulled an envelope from the drawer. Returning to the table she sat down while still clutching the envelope. "When I read about Heyes and went out and bought the whiskey I also stopped at the bank. I didn't think about you being worried about it. I just thought that because of what happened, the only picture of the two of you in existence should rightfully be in your hands, not mine."

She slid the envelope across the table toward Kid. His eyes came to rest on the envelope. "I guess this means you won't be blackmailing me anymore," Kid said as he placed his hand on the envelope and looked across the table. "Clem, if you ever need any help, all you gotta do is ask. You can count on that."

"So, when you get settled in wherever it is you decide to go, you'll let me know where you are?"

"I will darlin.' I'll send you a letter. It might not have anything but an address inside, but you'll know it me."

"So now what?"

"Now I head back to Porterville to let Lom Trevers know what I've decided so he can let the governor know to take me off his list."

"Are you sure about this Kid, I mean absolutely sure?"

Kid nodded and tapped the envelope with his fingers. "Like I told you Clem, Heyes and me decided it was the best thing to do."

0-0-0-0-0

A week later, Kid Curry rode into Porterville and tied his horse to the hitching post outside the sheriff's office. He glanced at the bank that had been rebuilt after the dual explosions just over three years ago and thought about the fact that this is where it all began.

You know I'm proud of you Kid, but you might want to use the side door to the sheriff's office, just for old times' sake.

Kid chuckled. He could hear Heyes' voice in his mind just as clearly as if Heyes was standing right there beside him.

"Is this how it's gonna be from here on in, Heyes? You gonna just make yourself known whenever you feel like harassing me?"

Old habits are hard to break.

"Well, I'm about to put an end to one old habit right now," Kid replied under his breath and made his way to the front door and turned the knob.

Lom looked up from his desk when he heard the door open. "You bring somebody with you? I thought I heard you talking outside."

Kid shut the door behind him but didn't immediately move any further into the office. "I just come to let you know a couple of things," he replied.

Concerned by Kid's somber expression, Lom stood and walked to the potbelly stove to pour them both a cup of coffee. "Is this good news or bad?"

"Depends on how you look at it, I suppose."

Lom handed Kid a cup of steaming coffee and Kid took several steps into the room and sat on a corner of Lom's desk. "I ain't interested in the amnesty no more," he said flatly.

"You sure that's the way you want it?' Lom asked and sat back down in the chair behind his desk.

"I'm sure."

"You're just gonna spend the rest of your life runnin?"

Kid smiled. "The governor has given me and Heyes the opportunity to get pretty darn good at that."

"Kid…."

"It's decided. There's nothing more to talk about on that subject."

Lom shook his head in defeat. "I'll be seeing the governor at the end of the month. I'll let him know then."

"Which brings me to the second thing I wanted talk to you about."

"Which is?"

"Wheat Carlson. Has he been in to see you yet?"

Lom shook his head.

"Wheat's a little rough around the edges, but he's a good man. Do what you can for him, as a favor to me and Heyes."

Lom nodded but his concerns were still focused on Kid. "How do I get in touch with you?"

Kid smiled and shook his head. "That's the beauty of it Lom, you don't."

"So this is goodbye?"

"I guess it is."

Kid took a final sip of his coffee and set the cup down on the desk and made his way to the door. He walked outside and climbed up into his saddle and gathered the reins. He gave Porterville a final glance, then backed his horse out into the street and gave the horse a gentle kick and headed west out of town.

" Heyes, I hope wherever it is you're residing now, and I ain't gonna be so bold as to ask, I hope someone is giving you Spanish lessons."

Oh, you'll do fine, Kid. You already know all the Spanish words that are important to you. Taco, burrito, enchilada, tequila, senorita. What more do you need?"

Kid smiled. "As long as you keep doing what you're doing Heyes, there ain't nothing more I need."

Just remember to always let me do the thinking, partner.