Winter's Refuge
Chapter 22
JED
When Dr. Arden left, I paced. I worried. I had told him he could send telegrams to Three Birds, Nebraska if he needed to reach me. I wasn't thinkin'; I should have told him he could reach me through Lom in Porterville.
I was confused about Dr. Arden. Heyes knew he was readin' his journal. He gave me the code we used when he wanted me to follow his lead. He told Arden we burned our journals at the Home for heat. We burned them because the headmaster and teachers were readin' them. It was one more way of tellin' me Arden read his entries. Yet, an injured Arden came and let us know Heyes was alive. He doctored him in the infirmary. He really seemed to care about Heyes. Still, I have a lingerin' doubt about his motives.
There were still no visitors allowed into the prison. This would last for the days that all the prisoners were bein' punished. I watched out our window as the slow profession of wagons carryin' the bodies of the four dead guards made its way down the main street. It moved slowly, solemnly to the undertaker near the sheriff's office. I realized the people gathered there were families of guards, wonderin' if their husband, father, or friend was among the dead. I watched an official-lookin' man with a badge stand up in the front wagon and wave his hands for quiet. Talkin' to a growin' crowd, he yelled the names of the four dead men. There were wails of sadness from some and sighs of relief from others at his announcement. The crowd thinned to the mourners.
I didn't want to see their sorrow and mournin'. I was thinkin' of the eleven prisoners who died. Who was mournin' them? I remembered the unmarked graves at the Yuma Territorial Prison, just a row of crosses. That's what those prisoners would get if they didn't get thrown into a mass unmarked grave. I sat down at the table and put my head in my hands.
"Kid, you okay?" Lom asked.
I'd forgotten I wasn't alone. He looked out the window and saw the dead guards being unloaded with care and taken inside the build. I hope Lom understood why I couldn't answer him. Heyes could've been killed today. Heyes could've lost his amnesty deal forever today. That heinous dark buildin' could have swallowed him up just like it had eleven other prisoners today who thought they could escape its grasp.
But it hadn't. Heyes was still alive. He still has his deal. He only has seventy days left to go. I grabbed the books he had left for me. There was no small letter in them. Page numbers with sevens or zeros weren't circled. I went back to the inside cover and read Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne. Lom had given me the same book and I had enjoyed it so much I read it twice. And then I saw it. In tiny letters it said serialized 1869 - 1870. The seventy was circled ever so lightly. I took a breath and looked to the ceilin', my gloomy mood broke. I had to believe Heyes was gonna be alright. That he was gonna make it. And he was sendin' me the message that he would be out in seventy days.
I felt Lom look over my shoulder. "Oh, I remember I ordered those books from a catalog. Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. Did you enjoy it?" he asked.
"Books?"
"Three of most of them, one for each of you. Not the blacksmith books, of course, and Chrissy enjoys romance more than you two."
I looked at the man who had done so much for me, for us. "Read this one multiple times." How did I tell him that the books he sent were what got me through my prison time? I learned readin' could take me away from the hot, sticky beating sun of the desert to have an adventure anywhere, includin' under the sea. If I forgot, even for a minute, where I was it was wonderful. A book like this could capture my mind for an hour before the reality of my slavery fell back on me. The books educated me and improved my vocabulary. "Thank you, Lom. For this and every book you sent me…us. I can't tell you how much they meant to me." I had no words to express my gratitude to this friend, now part of my family.
He just tapped me on the arm and looked away. In a lot of ways Lom is a very private man, always worried about others, me and Heyes, Chrissy, Deputy Harker and the people of Porterville. He continued to look out the window at the wagons in the street and said simply, "Glad to do it. Glad you enjoyed them."
HEYES
Woke up in the infirmary. Scared. There's always a guard near my bed when I open my eyes. They have me laying on my side. I remember the billy club opening the shiv wound. I had felt it bleeding through my top, down my back but I looked out that high window and concentrated on making perfect brooms. Then I knew what my gut was telling me. I could hear the rumble throughout the prison…an uprising. I told myself no this can't be happening. It can't. The Kid and Lom are coming today. Are they here yet? I hope it is too early, but sometimes they come early to talk to Dr. Arden. He doesn't tell me what he's going to talk to them about, but the Kid always manages to somehow let me know during the visit. I look to my high window of freedom and firm my resolution that I am working towards my freedom and this riot will not stop me. I am on the guard's side today. An uprising accomplishes nothing.
I abhor violence. We were famous for never shooting anyone. When the prisoners entered the broom factory, I realized some of the workers here were expecting them. They had very crude shivs. They used broom handles as weapons. I tried to warn them to stop. That this would not end well for us prisoners. No one listened. The mob marched toward the exit near my counter and for a moment I thought they were coming after me. Then I thought of the two guards behind me. The younger one has no patience. He opened the shiv wound on my back with his billy club this morning when my words got stuck. Still, I don't think he's cruel, I think he's scared working here every day. So, when I saw the far door opening again, I yelled to point it out to the mob. Then I motioned the guards behind my counter. They can hide there. I will stand at the end, and they won't be seen behind me.
The older guard understood but the younger one didn't. I had to wrestle with him to save his life. Now I remember where this stabbing pain in my chest came from. I need to move to stop the pain in my chest, so I open my eyes. This is not good. There is a guard sitting in a chair by my bed. They must think I was part of the rioting. My pardon and amnesty are gone. A deep sense of loss, the loss of the rest of my life, floods through me. I no longer care if I move. I don't care about anything.
"Heyes, drink this." A doctor I've never seen before is forcing a glass of water into my mouth. I don't care that it tastes bitter, I swallow it without protest. As I am falling asleep, I see two US Marshals guarding the door of the infirmary. I hear other people moaning and groaning around me. I am afraid when I wake up I will be in the dark cell…I would rather die.
LOM
I was laying down but awake when the Kid left. I let him go. I know I couldn't have stopped him. He's going to try to get to the prison. With all the US Marshals here and at the prison, I don't think he has a chance of getting a foot toward that place. Still, I watch him out of the window. He is turned away from the livery. A marshal follows him as he walks away from there, but the Kid didn't see him. He offers a man riding a horse to buy his gelding. The marshal stepped forward and took the Kid by the arm. This is the new Kid, though, and he doesn't reach for his gun. He bides his time and walks with the marshal. I watched them head for the jail and raced downstairs.
I entered the sheriff's office just minutes after the Kid and his escort.
"Excuse me, I'm Sheriff Trevors of Porterville." I realized I had met this sheriff a few times before when I had come to visit Heyes.
"Lom, come in."
"What are you going to do with him?" I asked the sheriff and the marshal standing in the office holding the Kid by the arm. The sheriff looked at the marshal.
"He was trying to buy a horse to get to the prison," the marshal explained.
"That right?"
"Yeah, my partner's there. He's hurt. I need…"
I stepped forward. "Sheriff, Marshall. This is Jed Curry. We're here to visit his partner when we learned of all this. We've had word that Heyes has been injured and Jed is just overzealous about trying to complete today's visit."
They looked at the Kid. They recognized the names I had purposefully used.
"Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry, always heard you were close," the sheriff said to the Kid. "I'm sorry but we can't let you go out there."
I admired the Kid's self-control; except for a biting of his lip and a tensing on his shoulders, there was nothing to show the urgent need he felt to see Heyes. But it wasn't going to happen.
The marshal was not as polite as the sheriff. "You have two choices, Kid Curry. You can either go back to your hotel room with your friend, the sheriff here, and tomorrow take the train to wherever you came from."
He paused for emphasis. I think he wanted to arrest the Kid.
"Or you're under arrest and you'll spend the next five days in that cell right there."
I could see the struggle as the Kid's blue eyes grew hard with anger mixed with worry about Heyes. But he had matured. He looked at the cell and remembered his responsibilities to Chrissy. He found me, looked me in the eyes and nodded. "Well, Mr. US Marshal, I thank you for the choice. My friend and I will just go back to our hotel room and leave tomorrow." They were the right polite words, but I heard the frustration behind them. "Does that meet with your approval?"
He didn't wait for an answer, just walked out leaving the door open behind him. Before I left, I said, "Good day," to the sheriff and closed the door behind me. The Kid hadn't walked far. He was leaning with his back on a post in front of the saloon.
"Thanks for comin', Lom. You knew I was goin' to try to get to the prison?" He didn't look at me, so I leaned on the hitching post in front of him before I answered.
"Had a good idea you would. Also knew you wouldn't get far. Had to let you get it out of your system."
He stepped down to cross the street to the hotel. "You think Heyes is okay?" he asked.
"You really asking me if I trust Dr. Arden?" I replied. I wasn't sure if I did, but right now the Kid needed encouragement and hope so I added, "Yeah, more than I did. I think he was sincere today."
HEYES
"Heyes, can you open your eyes?" It was Dr. Arden's voice this time. He was here yesterday. I think he stitched my shiv wound up again. I open my eyes and see the guard and remember I lost everything yesterday. I heard the announcement that everyone was on bread and water and to stay in their cells. And everyone was considered to be in solitary.
"How are you feeling?" Dr. Arden asked me. His tone sounded concerned.
I tried to sit up and the pain in my chest stopped me.
"Easy, those ribs aren't broken but they're bruised. I got them wrapped but you're still going to be in pain," the doctor continued.
I had nothing to say. I didn't care about the pain. I wouldn't survive seventeen more years in prison. I didn't want to even try.
"The warden will be here to speak to you in a few minutes." The doctor seemed happy he was coming. I knew it was to end my chance at a pardon. "After he leaves, I'll give you more pain medicine. The wound on your back is healing nicely. You should be back in your own cell by tomorrow."
I recognized the guard by my bed as the young one that was quick with his billy club. I wasn't strong enough to take any more pain.
"Sir," the guard said, standing as the warden approached. The older guard that worked with him was standing on the other side of the bed.
Dr. Arden gently helped me sit up. He was smiling. Was he glad to be rid of me? See me sent back to solitary? Without the goal of getting out of here, I knew I would end up back in the dark cell soon.
"Convict Heyes, how are you doing?" asked the warden. The two guards were smiling, too. Was everyone glad I had failed? I didn't even participate in the riot.
I just looked at the warden. I could think of no words to even try to say.
The warden looked at Dr. Arden. "He just woke up, sir." I was surprised he made an excuse for me.
"Well. Mr. Heyes, I just want to give you my thanks and the thanks of the governor for your heroic actions yesterday." The warden was very formal in his delivery.
Confused, I looked at the doctor. He must have understood I didn't understand what was happening because he spoke next, looking directly at me. "Heyes, these are the two guards whose lives you saved by your quick thinking yesterday."
"I re…re.. remem…b." I got out as the events came back to my memory.
"Thank you, Heyes. You saved our lives," the older guard extended his hand to me, a prisoner. I tried to reach forward but the pain stopped me. He smiled and withdrew his hand. "Sorry, forgot about those ribs. And my wife and kids wanted me to thank you, too. My little girl made this for you." He handed me a piece of paper with what I think is a rainbow drawn over a stick house. In the corner, in adult writing, it said Autumn, Age five.
"Than…k Aut…umn." Everyone seemed to be patient as I formed the words. The picture touched me. I hadn't seen a rainbow in years. I was embarrassed that I almost teared up.
The warden coughed to get attention back to him. "So, the governor and I just wanted to formally confirm that your deal is still in place."
I missed his next words as my heart jumped. I sat up. "OWW!" The pain in my ribs stopped me. Dr. Arden eased me back.
"Deal…good?"
"Yes, you were a hero. Why would we take your deal away?" the warden asked.
"Heard…heard…all …soli…" I said sadly.
"Everyone but you, Heyes," the warden confirmed again.
But then I remembered the Kid and Lom were suppose to come the day of the riot. Fear for them must have shown on my face. I know I lost my poker face in the dark cell. "Kid?"
Dr. Arden sat softly on my bed. "He's fine. So's your friend, Lom. They hadn't got here yet. I had to go into Cheyenne, so I told them myself you were going to be okay."
He was close enough that I could grab his hand. "Tha…"
"You're welcome, Heyes. I was actually very worried that Mr. Curry would try and get himself arrested trying to get to you."
"You…there?" My words were harder than ever to force out. I saw the younger guard staring at me.
"Yes, I talked to them. Sheriff Trevors even doctored me up a bit."
"I gen…e…ral pop…?" I was so tired I couldn't even fight the words out.
Remembering past conversations, the warden confirmed, "Yes, the infirmary is general population and your cell will not be considered solitary like the other convicts."
Dr. Arden had moved and now had a glass of water with the smell of medicine near my mouth.
The warden leaned close so only the doctor and I could hear. "Heyes, I appreciate your efforts and you were a true hero in this instance, but remember you are still a convict serving time for murder until you earn that pardon. Do you understand?"
My words were gone completely but I nodded yes as hard as I could. Dr. Arden kept lifting the glass to my mouth until I swallowed every drop of the vile liquid. As my eyes were closing, the younger guard sat down next to my bed. "Just here in case you need anything," he said. It was the last thing I remembered as I fell into a deep but restless sleep.
JED 'KID' CURRY
Riding the train home, I had a lot on my mind. I was worried what I would tell Chrissy or if I should tell her anything at all. I had the three books from Heyes with the puzzle. She'll like to find the circle. I couldn't see Heyes for two more weeks. I only had Dr. Arden's word that he was goin' to be alright. I asked Lom about his contact inside the prison. He said he wasn't sure if he would hear anything. Security was very tight after the uprisin'. And I was worried about Lom. I never thought of Lom as anything but strong. He wasn't old, but at least fifteen years older than me and Heyes. We had a lot of time together in the hotel room this time. Lom looks tired. He doesn't eat much. I'm goin' to find a way to talk to him soon. He's family.
When I was in prison, Lom sent me a book on self-improvement. I know now it was probably a book he picked out to help Heyes. I'll have to tell him how much it helped me. I'm usin' one of the techniques to sit quietly and make a mental list of the things I'm worried about. Then I'll decide which things I can do something about and which to put on the can't do anything but wait column. In Yuma, I called that my hopeless column. I couldn't do anything about the whippings; they were in that column. Now I put Heyes in that column. I got two weeks. I have to be patient before I learn more about how he's doing.
The book also said to do something' physical that makes you happy. Ain't what the book had in mind, but I figured what I'm goin' to do…grow potatoes. The potato Chrissy brought to her picnic made me think of Gramma Curry and her garden. I'm gonna start a garden. There's the perfect place behind the house on the way to the stream. And the first thing I'm plantin' is potatoes. The book was right. I feel better just plannin' this.
ASJ*****ASJ
I had decided to give Chrissy the books and if she asks about Heyes just say he's fine. As far as I know, that's the truth. If she asks more, I'll be honest with her. That plan got waylaid as I turned up Old Cummings Road. I could see a buggy in front of the porch. As I opened the gate, Winter's Glory stood patiently, but I knew he was anxious to get home to his stable. He felt me being upset even though I could hide it from people. He stuck his head into my shoulder when I walked back to lead him through the gate. He understood I needed a moment of comfort, and he gave it to me. Then I led him through the gate and closed it behind us. I've come to talk to Winter's Glory, confide in him. He's the only one I feel safe tellin' all my fears…and there are many.
"Well, boy, who do you think is waitin' for us at the house?" I asked him as we rode the last stretch to the house. "Looks like that buggy of Mrs. Birde, the sheriff's wife. Won't know why she's here until I hear it from her."
Juan met me down the road from the house. As he took my horse, he looked closely at me. "We heard about the riot. Sheriff Birde and his wife are up at the house. All the sheriffs in Wyoming were notified. A friend of his sent him a telegram. He says he came to help." Juan paused, lookin' at the ground while continuin'. "Heard a lot of prisoners died and a lot were injured. How's Heyes?"
I was surprised at the concern in his voice for someone he blamed for Chrissy goin' to jail. But there was no doubtin' the concern in his voice for Heyes and in his eyes for me.
"Hurt but he'll recover. And his deal's still in place."
"Thank the Lord," Juan said, then added sheepishly, "Luke must have rubbed off on me." Then he grew serious. " Chrissy doesn't like the Birdes in the house. She stared at the sheriff's badge and went to her bedroom and maybe locked the door. But Mr. Curry…ah…I heard something' you should know about."
"What's that?"
"I was walking behind Sheriff and Mrs. Birde when they entered the house. Don't think they knew I was there. Before Chrissy went to her room, Mrs. Birde said she looked just like her mother."
"She knew Chrissy's mother?"
"Yeah, the sheriff asked her if she wanted to tell Chrissy about her mother. Mrs. Birde said a definite, "No, because then our secret couldn't help but come out."
"You heard that? What did they say next?'
"Nothing. I think they felt me behind them. And Chrissy chose that time to leave."
He headed for the stables, and I headed for the porch. "Juan." I waited for him to turn around. "Thanks."
Sheriff Birde was rockin' in the chair on the front porch and leaned forward as I approached. "Welcome home, Jed."
I felt him studyin' me as he stood up. "Juan told me you know about the riot. Heyes is okay." I told him.
"You get to see him?" He put his arm around my shoulders as we went into the house.
"No, it had already started when we got to Cheyenne. Nobody allowed in, not even on the road leadin' to the prison. It was completely shut down." I tried to keep my voice neutral but knew I had failed. I'm sure the sheriff knew I had tried every way I could to get there. "We met a friend in Cheyenne that told us Heyes was okay."
"Me and the missus came out to see if you needed any help in case…in case." Sheriff Birde didn't need to finish the sentence. He meant in case Heyes was among the dead convicts.
"Thanks," I said, as my eyes fell on the belt buckle I had made him.
"Wear it every day. Can't tell you how many compliments I get. Well, the missus is tryin' to clean the kitchen and make some supper. You have a lot of spices and seems like Chrissy had all of them out and open. The house smelled good, but it was just a lot of spices in hot water."
"Let me go talk to Chrissy." I gave Mrs. Birde a tired wave as I headed down the hall.
"Chrissy, darling, it's Jed." I knocked on the door but did not try the handle. She had the key now; if she was scared, she would have locked it. "Chrissy?" I tried again.
The door opened slowly. It hadn't been locked. Chrissy stood in the doorway and locked toward the kitchen.
"Yes, they're still here."
She looked at me then away. I wasn't sure what to do so I did nothing. "They talk." She was starin' down the hall but not seein' anythin' so I still waited. Finally, she put one hand on my chest. "Heyes dead?"
"No, darling, he'll be fine."
I didn't know if she understood. I wondered how long she had been in her room thinkin' Heyes was dead. The Birdes didn't realize she heard everythin' said around her, even if she didn't respond. I wanted to put my arms around her, but except for that light hug goodbye to Luke, she still avoided human contact.
"Heyes' hurt but recoverin'. He sent you three more books."
"Puzzle? Number?"
"Seventy. I'll go get them."
She followed me to the front door where I had dropped my bag. I held out my hand to warn the Birdes to stay away. They did, but Mrs. Birde watched her closely. I opened my bag on the chair by the fireplace and took out the books. Chrissy grabbed them.
"Present?" she asked lookin' at the books, not me.
"Sorry, not this time."
She held the books to her chest but did not move. I could feel the Birdes still watchin' but they didn't approach or say anythin'. Finally, Chrissy turned and headed to her room sayin', "Two next time."
I jumped at a knock on the door. For a quiet, isolated ranch there were a lot of people here today. I realized that I hadn't locked the door when we came in. I beat myself up over that for the rest of the day, then let it go. I resolved to always lock it goin' forward. It was Jimmy from the telegraph office. Seemed like a long way for an eight-year-old to come alone.
"Mr. Curry, my pa thought this might be a telegram you'd want right away."
"Thanks, Jimmy." I felt in my pocket for a coin, but Sheriff Birde flipped him one first.
"You be careful going home, Jimmy," the sheriff told him.
I stepped out onto the porch to read the telegram alone. I was afraid somethin' had happened to Heyes after all. It read:
Mr. Jed Curry
Three Birds, Nebraska
Wanted to let you know Heyes is progressing nicely. STOP The stitches will be out tomorrow and the ribs are healing. STOP He is looking forward to your next scheduled visit. STOP He said thank you for the sweets, especially the pie.
Dr. Aiden Arden
Cheyenne, WI
I read it again before I realized Sheriff Birde was standin' on the porch lookin' at me. "No need to share, son. Just wanted to make sure everything is alright."
"Yes, everythin' seems to be fine."
HEYES
I've lost track of the days. The only doctor I see is Dr. Arden. He took the stitches out of my back a few days ago and he unwraps and rewraps my ribs. The bandages are tight, but my ribs feel better when they're tight. I was moved to my cell and my meals are brought to my cell. Dr. Arden told me I am eating what the guards eat. All the other convicts got bread and water.
I vaguely remember the warden telling me my pardon deal is still in place. Dr. Arden says he talked to the Kid and Lom and told them I was recovering. They will be here for the regularly scheduled visit. I miss seeing the Kid. He's my strength. I have none of my own. I left it in the dark cell.
JED 'KID' CURRY
When I'd been home a couple of days and caught up in the blacksmith shop, I decided it was time to plant potatoes. Chrissy watched carefully as I got the shovel from the barn.
"Gonna plant potatoes, darlin'."
"Chrissy darlin'."
"Yes, Chrissy darlin'." That was a name only I could call her. Juan tried and she'd actually stomped her foot and said, "No, Chrissy."
She picked up another shovel and followed me to the section I had seen between the house and the stream. From the look of the land, it had been someone's garden. With the shovel I traced a few rows three feet apart. My first crop, if it grew, would be small. I remembered doin' this with Gramma Curry. The trenches should be about eight inches deep, six inches wide at the top, and three inches at the bottom. I started diggin'.
"Garden?" Chrissy finally said after watchin' for over ten minutes. She seemed fascinated by the shovel liftin' the dirt out of the holes.
"Yup, gonna plant some potatoes today."
I went back to my diggin' until I felt dirt hittin' the back of my leg. Chrissy was usin' her foot and pushin' the dirt back into the hole.
"Chrissy, stop!" I said firmly but gently knowin' she didn't understand what I was tryin' to do.
She looked up at me then turned and spat into my trench. "Prison had garden." I started to understand. "Chrissy work garden."
It reminded her of prison. I'd try to make her think of good things growin' in this garden. I went back and started to redig the holes she had tried to cover.
"NO! When food no grow, Chrissy gets…" She turned around and pulled up her dress showin' me the scars from lashes on her back. She put her dress right back down. "I no grow food…ever." She threw down her shovel and went into the house.
As I finished diggin' the trenches, I thought about how what was givin' me hope was bringin' back painful memories for Chrissy. I had kept the raw potato she had brought to the picnic and had cut it, and others, into plantin' size pieces a couple of days ago. I used to do this for my gramma and felt her smile as I gathered the pieces. Chrissy watched with an angry expression. I don't know if she understood, but I explained how this reminded me of Gramma Curry, how she had taught me and my sisters each step. How I felt her smilin' at me. How I felt close to her now doin' this. And I needed to feel close to family.
Chrissy just looked at me, angrily. I couldn't make her understand. So, I planted my potatoes, but she had taken the joy from me. She wasn't at the table when I came back in, so I assumed she was in her room. I moved the stew pot to the front of the stove, stirred it, tasted it and added a tiny pinch of the spice blend William Knight had left. Then I went to check on Chrissy.
She wasn't in her room. I always silently panic when I don't know that Chrissy is safe. Dr. Lewis is still fresh in my memory. She must have gone to the stables to read to the pregnant mares. As I walked through the house, I could see her through the window outside, just barely in view. I went to the backdoor and watched her. She hadn't touched my potatoes, but around their trenches she had picked wildflowers and weeds and attempted to 'plant' the stems in a large circle.
"Chrissy, that's very pretty." I told her as I approached our new garden. "Would you like me to bring you some flower seeds back from Cheyenne?"
She hadn't heard me approach and she turned at the sound of my voice. Then she stood still, and I knew she was thinkin' about my question. "Yes, carrots."
I looked at her but held back a grin. "Okay Chrissy, flowers and carrots."
Her brow creased. Her frustration showed. "HAVE flowers," she said pointin' to the weeds wiltin' already. "Need carrots for horses."
LOM
I was surprised I got a telegram from Dr. Arden a few days ago. Heyes has improved enough to work in the broom factory again and is looking forward to our visit. I took an earlier train to Cheyenne because I hadn't bought Heyes a book yet. I found a new one and out of habit picked up three. Smiling, I put two back. It made me think, though. I need to ask the Kid if he's read a book since he left prison, I'd be happy to get him one.
The Kid's train was on time, and he stepped off looking for me. His handshake was accompanied by a warmer smile than usual. He looked strong and confident until you saw the red circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. He talked of nothing but Heyes on the ride to the prison, their sisters, and Gramma and Grandpa Curry. He told me about planting the potatoes. And I smiled when he explained about Chrissy and the weeds and the carrots.
When the prison came into view, he didn't slow like normal. He was anxious to get to Heyes. Still, when the big main door of the prison closed behind us, I saw him shudder.
The guards led us to Dr. Arden's office and opened the door for us. Dr. Arden greeted us warmly, something he had never done before. "Welcome, Mr. Curry, Sheriff Trevors. How are you?"
I was glad the Kid didn't reply, "How's Heyes?" but he did go and look out the window.
I answered for us both. "We're fine. Both been worried about Heyes. Thanks for the telegrams."
He seemed pleased I thanked him. The Kid was looking at him out of the corner of his eye, studying him while appearing not to be. Everyone said that Heyes was a good judge of people. The Kid is better, always was. And he would gently steer Heyes to his way of thinking. Heyes always trusted the Kid's judgment.
"Where's Heyes?" the Kid asked politely.
"Should be here by now." Dr. Arden stood and opened the office door. "Here he comes." We saw the guards unlock the manacles and shackles and watched them fall to the floor. Heyes was smiling in at us with his dimples showing. As soon as the shackles hit the floor, the Kid headed to him, but a guard stopped him.
"Let the convict enter the room and us secure the door before you approach him," the guard said firmly. He started to say 'sir' at the end, but caught himself when he realized who he was talking to, Kid Curry, an ex-con.
JED 'KID" CURRY
I held eye contact with Heyes and waited patiently until the door was closed in back of him. Then I grabbed him in a bear hug before I remembered about his ribs.
"Oww," he yelped, but didn't pull away.
I didn't pick him up this time. "Sorry, Heyes, are you really alright?"
"Kid...missed…you." He put a hand on each of my arms. "Deal…still!"
"Yeah, heard you were a hero. Saved a guard's life. I'm proud of you for not joinin' in." This was somethin' the old Heyes would have done.
His smile grew wider. He held up two fingers.
LOM
I smiled to see the two of them together. "You saved two guards, Heyes?"
Heyes nodded. He looked tired as he sat down in the middle chair. He had lost weight and moved stiffly. But all the Kid cared about was that Heyes was alive.
Dr. Arden had watched the two of them with a smile. "I'll leave you to your visit, Heyes. I'll be in my office."
When he'd left, the Kid turned to his cousin. "You really alright?"
Heyes nodded and put his hand on the Kid's knee. "Stiff. Work…hard. Sorry…skinny."
"Heyes, I'm just glad you're alive."
"What….do?"
"What do I do? I'm a blacksmith, Heyes, remember. And I just planted potatoes like Gramma Curry showed us how."
Heyes' expression was confusing, as if good and bad memories were competing.
"Heyes? You okay?" I asked and the Kid stopped talking and looked at his partner.
Heyes looked from me to the Kid, and I could see him thinking about how to say what he wanted with his stuck words.
"Potatoes?" Heyes asked.
"Yeah, potatoes. Pratais, as Grandpa called them. Reminds me of the good times, helpin' Gramma before…well before."
The Kid's voice contained his fond memories and Heyes understood. He had shared those memories.
Heyes grabbed the Kid's leg hard. "Pra…tai.. Gram…ma…good." He stopped and smiled, and I imagined him reliving the same happy memories as the Kid. But then he continued. "Pot…a...a…toe kit…chen du…du..." He couldn't get the word out. Me and the Kid were quiet. "Here…cut pot….atoes...for…ever."
I remembered Heyes had worked in the kitchen here. Never thought what he might be doing there. Now we knew.
Heyes pointed to three books on the desk. Chrissy would be happy. "Tracking?" he asked.
The Kid smiled and nodded. "Just fifty-six days, Heyes, and we walk out of here."
'Partners?"
"Always partners. I've got your back but not in here. Be careful, Heyes."
Heyes motioned us to turn around. Last time this still didn't return all his words, just some. I hoped this time would be better.
"Kid…books?" Heyes asked.
"Oh, Heyes, they're a mess. I can figure out how many days until you get out of here and how much iron I'll need for the next month, but the books put me to sleep. The only ones that are right are the ones that..." I saw the Kid catch himself before he mentioned Chrissy. He looked at me in a panic.
"There are some he got some help with," I said with a wink. I implied it was me that helped him and Heyes bought it.
"Just fill in …columns…fix later."
"I'm tryin', Heyes." I saw the honesty in the Kid's eyes. "I just get so tired. I fall asleep."
Heyes understood more than the Kid said.
"Kid so strong…thank you." The Kid turned around quickly as I did. Heyes had tears in his eyes.
"Nothin' you wouldn't do for me, Heyes." the Kid told him.
With us looking at him, Heyes lost all his words this time and he bowed his head. He looked broken, forlorn, lost. The Kid ignored all of that and knelt in front of Heyes. He leaned his head with the blonde curls starting to take over again against Heyes' bald head, both looking down. I don't know what they said to each other, and I never asked. I don't know if Heyes had his words back whispering to the Kid or if the Kid just understood his halted words. Their heads raised at the same time.
"Fifty-six days, Heyes. Think you can be good?" the Kid asked with a smile as he stood up.
"Be good…make best…brooms." Heyes smiled. "Part…partners…strong." He still looked fragile and broken, but no longer forlorn and lost.
I smiled at him. "Kid…Kid…share…streng…strong." he finally managed to say. "Need…him."
"Don't worry, Heyes, I'm here for you," the Kid assured him as Dr. Arden walked into the room.
The Kid surprised me then. He walked over to the doctor and held out his hand. "Thank you, Doctor, for everything."