Winter's Refuge
Chapter Sixteen
Jed 'Kid' Curry
I was nervous about enterin' the prison. Whenever I approached, my stomach tightened, my back grew tense. That place reaches out and grabs you and breaks you. And it still had Heyes. On the walk to Dr. Arden's office, we usually walked in back of one guard and in front of another. Today, we had a one guard escort. The whole buildin' was quieter than normal. That allowed "the voice in my head" to talk louder, to scream at me through the hangover, tellin' me that if Heyes was still in prison, I should be, too.
Dr. Arden was waitin' for us. He didn't stand to greet us, and I could see controlled emotions beneath the surface. I may not be able to read all body language, but I can see hidden anger.
"Mr. Trevors. Mr. Curry, welcome. I trust you had a pleasant trip here." I felt him starin' at my bloodshot eyes.
"Just fine, doctor," I answered as pleasantly as I could. I refused to call him sir, don't know if he noticed.
"Where's Heyes?" Lom asked firmly.
"He'll be here. Short of guards today with the measles outbreak."
"Somethin's wrong?" I challenged him. The doctor seemed uncomfortable around us today.
"Nothin' I can pinpoint but Heyes has been quieter than normal the last few days. Nervous, almost jumpy when we're talking."
Neither me nor Lom answered him, just waited for him to keep talkin'. Dr. Arden sure seemed more nervous and jumpy to me too.
"This measles outbreak has turned up some interesting things." He shuffled the papers on his desk and looked at Lom. Wasn't a friendly look; he was upset about somethin'.
Mr. Trevors, your visit to the governor was unexpected. I didn't think you were scheduled until this week."
"No set schedule anymore. Go when I need to." Lom's defenses were up, his words circumspect, his back straight. Circumspect is another Heyes word I learned from reading.
The doctor leaned forward and spoke directly at Lom. "Well, this first thing is my fault. Been trying to convince Heyes I'm on his side. He's cautious. I don't blame him. Turns out I've been wrong about some big things. I told Heyes I was responsible for the lights in the hall."
I saw a sad smile on Lom's face. "And the governor had me send a letter to Heyes saying the lights and oil were from him, me and the Kid. Even arranged it so that the letter got delivered to Heyes immediately, not wait for a letter day. He thought it would let him know the governor was cheering for him."
I could see on Dr. Arden's face Heyes had called him on his lie. He looked down at his hands resting on his desk. "Well, you can probably guess that Heyes didn't let that pass. And his trust in me disappeared."
I felt sorry for him. At least he took responsibility for it. "Okay what do you want from us?" I asked. My hangover was still lingering on the top of my brain, and I was impatient to see Heyes. He was delaying and I knew there was somethin' else he didn't want to tell us.
"Second thing is I had Heyes figured out all wrong. I thought he was paranoid. He told me men here were out to get him, to hurt him, to kill him. I didn't believe him. After that first fight, I thought he was just as much to blame as the other man. That man's a patient, too. Told me Heyes started the fight. I know Heyes can be manipulative, so I believed my other patient. But there was a small doubt, so I allowed Heyes to choose the lashes instead of solitary. "
Lom was listening but unforgiving so far. I followed his lead. "And now? I growled.
The doctor was not used to being the one questioned. He ruled this office but knew his conclusions had been wrong in this case. Still, his ego was large. He needed to see himself as a good doctor, a good man who helped the poor convicts. I was thinkin' about this when he finally made a decision to tell us everything. I'm good at readin' people's eyes to know the moment they decide to draw on me. I saw that decisive expression on the doctor's face when he made the decision to confess.
"Governor sent me the names of the two men he was concerned might want to hurt Heyes. One of them is my patient, the other man accused of fighting with Heyes. Well, this measles epidemic in the prison turned a lot of things upside down. This man is one of the worst cases. He still might die." The doctor took a rough looking shiv from his drawer and placed it in front of us on his desk. "This morning, we found this shiv with a broken blade hidden in his socks. There was blood on the broken blade. No one's been to the infirmary bleeding.
"Anyway, his high measles fever loosened this man's tongue. He talked about trying to stab Heyes in the back, admitted it in his rantings. Talked about sticking him but Heyes twisted away. Said he needed to try again. Heard him myself."
He stopped talking. Lom was not looking at him, but I kept my eyes locked on his.
Uncomfortable from my gaze, Dr. Arden continued, "I should have believed Heyes when he told me he was certain men in here wanted to kill him. Said he had a gut feeling. A gut feeling… Who believes in that? I told him it was all in his mind. That the dark cell had affected him. No one was trying to hurt him. He was watched closely in here, no one could harm him. I even suggested that he was trying to hurt himself. Oh, how wrong I was about him." The doctor put his elbows on his desk and rested his head in his hands for a moment.
I was feelin' sorry for the mighty doctor who was admittin' his failure. Looked to me like Lom was softenin', too.
"I plan to apologize to him today, in front of you two." His voice faltered and he looked at Lom. Think he already knew I was feeling sorry for him, and it was Lom he needed to convince.
I caught a glimpse of Lom's eyes when he finally looked at the doctor. They were outlaw steady and cold. "Better make it good."
Nodding, the doctor looked at us both. "He asked to speak with you both privately. I approved the request. He doesn't trust me anymore. He needs someone to trust and that's you two. If he does tell you a way I can help, please let me know." It was the most sincere I'd ever heard him.
I heard movement outside the door, then the sound of the shackles fallin' to the ground. I stood and opened the door at the first knock eager to see my partner. I was shocked. I didn't think he could lose more weight, but he had and he was pale. His eyes darted to the doctor who was standin'.
"Heyes, I'm going to my office, so you have privacy with your friends as you requested," the doctor said and quickly left.
"Heyes!" I started to give him a hug, but he turned away and walked to the door the doctor went through. He opened it quickly. Nothing was there but an empty hall.
"Question." Heyes was talking to Lom.
"What is it, Heyes? Sit down."
Heyes was indeed nervous. He can't hide it like he used to, no quick smile or fancy words. But there was somethin' urgent pullin' on his thoughts.
"Infirmary….. general pop..ulation?" It seemed like each word had to fight its way out. I could see Heyes' frustration with speakin'.
"You got the measles?" Lom asked.
'No. Measles… child." His frustration with Lom's answer was apparent so I joined in.
"Are ya askin' if you have to go or stay in the infirmary is that still considered general population?"
He nodded, taking a quick look at the door the doctor had left through.
"What's wrong?" I asked him, but he was waitin' for Lom to answer.
Lom thought about it. "Yeah, the infirmary is general population. If anyone argues, I can convince them it is."
Relief flooded Heyes' face. His body relaxed. He pulled his shirt over his head and turned so we saw his back. "Shiv."
I was horrified at the jagged, red wound between his shoulder blades. He had tried to wrap something around it and under his arms. I started to pull the bloody makeshift bandage off, but he whirled to me. "Arden. No."
And I could tell Lom still didn't trust the doctor either. I could almost see him trying to figure this situation out.
Heyes hesitated tryin' to form the words and force them out, "Arden says….." The words wouldn't come so he pointed to his temple.
"Arden thinks the threat is in your mind? I think he's over that," I said, but Lom's expression was still critical. "You couldn't have reached to stab yourself where that wound is," I added.
"Could be a trap?" Lom mumbled, still thinkin' if he thought the doctor was to be trusted.
Heyes looked from one of us to the other needin' to join the discussion but without words. He grabbed my arm. "Arden." He took a breath, and I could see determination in his eyes. "You turn." He pointed to the windows. I gave him a questionin' look but he had pointed to Lom. "You, too."
We looked at each other and did as he asked. Then we heard him release a sentence. "Arden thinks I ..hurt myself." He finished with a huge sigh. I started to turn around. "No!" he added.
I'd learned patience but wasn't sure when the doctor would return. I heard Heyes take a deep breath and find another group of words.
"Shiv blade broke. Pulled out. Scared. Hurts. Hot." Again, a sigh as if a hard task had been accomplished.
This time I turned around and walked to the desk. I pointed to the shiv with the broken blade. "They found it this mornin' when the man you fought with got the measles. It was in his socks."
Heyes stared at the weapon but did not touch it. "Broken." He could only get the one word out with us lookin' at him again.
"The man was talkin' in his fever this mornin'. Dr. Arden heard the man confessin' to stabbin' you, too," I said.
'Infirmary, okay?" he asked Lom to confirm again.
'Yeah. It's still general population."
"Still partners?" he asked me. He needed to know I had his back.
"Always partners. Always got your back." I thought of all the times he had my back growing up. "We're family, cousin."
"Arden, come now." He managed to say, but before he did, he went and sat for a moment in Arden's chair, this time balancin' his ankles on the desk. He winked at me and grinned, but hurriedly returned to stand between us when we heard Arden knock.
"Coming in," he said and I noticed he hadn't asked if Heyes was done. He was still a prisoner, a convict with no right to anything, including privacy.
Dr Arden first saw Heyes without his shirt. "What are you…"
Heyes turned around and the wound was now bleeding where I had pulled on the bandage.
"What happened?" The doctor examined the wound. "You need that cleaned out and stitched. Sit for a moment, Heyes, I'll send for the doctor to come here."
"Here?" Heyes sat gingerly on the end of the chair.
"Yes, here. Safer for you."
"Measles?"
"No, two men who want to kill you are in the infirmary."
"Just to confirm, Doctor, goin' to the infirmary is still considered general population?" I asked.
The doctor understood that was what Heyes had wanted to see us about, why he'd been nervous and jumpy. "Yes, going to the infirmary, even having' to stay there, will still be considered general population."
The doctor did as he said he would and apologized to Heyes for not believin' him, for tellin' him his fear was in his head, for askin' if he was tryin' to hurt himself, and for lyin' about where the extra lights really came from. I grudgingly admired the man. He admitted he was wrong and finished with, "I'm sorry."
Heyes hadn't said a word, just listened. He hadn't really moved at all. When the doctor finished, he struggled, but got out two words, "Apology…accepted."
The nervous tension I had seen in Dr. Arden was gone now and his polished professional manner returned. I wondered if this was the first time he'd ever admitted to a convict that he's been wrong.
"I'll go get the doctor. You finish your visit. Oh, and Heyes, here are those papers you prepared for Mr. Curry. The warden has approved their release." He took a couple of sheets out of his drawer and left them on his desk.
As the doctor left, Heyes reached for the papers, but I stopped his hand. "Got something for you," I said, holding the second key to the lock.
Heyes eyes sparkled, and his grin brought out his dimples. He reached for it, but I pulled it back.
"You need to start eatin' more, Heyes,' ' I scolded him.
He instantly looked down, chastised.
I had expected an argument or an "I will", not submission. "Heyes?"
It took a moment, but he looked up. "Food bad."
"I know, Heyes, believe me, I know. I'll try and send you some cookies and cheese, but you gotta eat what they give you here."
We locked eyes and I knew he would try to eat. "Anything else you want?"
"Clementine cake?"
Lom and I both laughed. "Clementine baked you a cake? Was it edible?"
"Two. Bought."
"Makes sense she bought them. She burns water." I held the key out to him and this time he took it and cradled it. "Looks…" He struggled with the next word. "Different."
"That's the idea. Won't give you a key next time, but I have another surprise for you."
He looked sad then curious as he reached for the papers. Looking sheepish, he motioned Lom and I to turn away from him. He handed me the sheets. I peeked over my shoulder and saw he had his back to us, too.
"List the jobs you take in each… day in the first column, the ….customer in the second, the date completed in the…the… third and the money you received in the last." He spoke fast in complete sentences without taking a breath. He had given me a sample. "Mix together for now; just get it ….recorded."
"You mean put the blacksmith stuff with the horses and my window hinges all together?'
"Window hinges?" interrupted Lom.
"Yeah, the doctor here has some pretty ones on his window. I copied them and make them at night. Sell them at the mercantile."
I started to turn but felt Heyes hand pat my shoulder. "Good boy."
I enjoyed his praise, always did. I turned to the second sheet.
Heyes spoke clearer with each sentence. "Write everything you spend. …Everything. What it …was for, how much with… date. I'll sort… everything… out when I get there."
Lom turned around with a smile. We'd both heard him say when, not if. He was workin' to get out and now I was sure of it.
I turned back and he walked over to me, studyin' me. I wondered if his complete sentences would continue now that he were lookin' at me? He shrugged his shoulders. Pointin' at my eyes he asked, "Drink?"
"Yeah, for the first time since…well since with you. I had some beers last night. Too many beers," I confessed to him. I remembered when I was thirteen and had gotten drunk for the first time. Heyes had helped me through that hangover, and I vowed never to drink again. Hadn't lasted more than a month.
But this time Heyes was smilin'. Sittin' down next to me, he put his hand on my knee like he did when we were kids,. "Good. Work hard." But then his expression turned serious. "Sleep?
I looked away but I had vowed we needed to start anew with the truth. "Don't sleep much anymore. Prison changed that." I didn't look away when I spoke. I don't need to defer to no man anymore, not even Heyes.
But he just nodded. "You sleep. I eat."
"Deal."
"Come back?" It was a question.
"Partner, I'll be here every two weeks for the next five months when we walk out of here together."
We left when Dr. Arden arrived with the warden and the medical doctor.
The warden had assured us Heyes would be given time to heal in his cell and even the infirmary was in general population, and he would be safe. If the two men the governor had asked them about recovered from the measles, they'd be transferred before they returned to general population.
His tone turned serious as he looked at Heyes and reminded him he's a convict servin' time for murder.
ASJ*****ASJ
We left the prison with three more of Heyes' books to take home. I'd just stacked the others on the side table in the main room, but I planned to make a bookshelf for them. We spent the night in Cheyenne. Lom treated me to a steak dinner, and I fell asleep early. But I woke up suddenly. I'd been dreamin' about the heat of the ground in the railroad camp and Aaron, the older prisoner, rollin' in the hot sand after being whipped. But this time it was Heyes rollin' in the burnin' sand, screamin' for me to help him while the shackles and the guards held me back.
"Kid?" Lom's voice broke through the nightmare. I felt him pull the sheet back to try and wake me up. Too late, I remembered I'd slept just in my long john bottoms because it was so hot thinkin' the sheet would hide my back. I tried to grab the sheet. Lom was already starin' at my back.
"Kid? You seen a doctor since you got out?" He touched my back, but the pain made me recoil.
"No time for the doctor."
He leaned closer. "At least two of these cuts are infected, maybe more." He put the back of his hand on my forehead. "And you got a fever. You're seeing the doctor before you head home tomorrow."
He stepped back and sighed before looking straight at me. "Make time to take care of yourself. People are depending on you now. People that ain't got anyone else."
He was right, but I answered, "And you, too." I thought Lom looked away too quickly but didn't really think much about it. "First thing tomorrow, I promise."
The doctor there wasn't busy. He refused to see any measles cases because he'd never had it, so I was his only patient that mornin'.
"You a blacksmith, Jed?" the doctor asked as he was cleanin' the wounds on my back. I'd flinched at the first touch but steeled myself and refused to acknowledge the pain. I thought of Chrissy and how I needed to repair what I had broken – her trust.
"Jed!"
"Yes, Doctor."
"You a blacksmith?" he repeated.
"Yes, Doctor."
"These aren't going to heal unless you keep them clean and some salve on them. You got those black flakes from the forge embedded in all of them. I'm cleaning them all out. You got someone to help you? Salve should be all over your back at least twice a day, three is better."
I thought of Juan and Chrissy. Neither one of them could help me with this. "No, I don't."
He was quiet for a while. I refused the whiskey he offered to help the pain. Each stitch seemed to tear my skin, not help it, but I sat tall and unmoving. "Maybe there's a nurse in your town that could do it for you."
"I'll ask around." He showed me my back in the mirror.
"One you should be able to reach with a little twisting. Twisting is going to be painful. But these two here you can't take care of yourself. Already infected. Don't know why you don't have a higher fever, but it might go higher if you don't take care of this."
He gave me three tins of salve and a bottle of laudanum and wrote down instructions with another serious warning about taking care of my back.
Lom had been pacin' the waitin' room. The doctor repeated my instructions to him before we left.
"Kid, you need to get help. The doctor in Three Birds might be able to find someone to help you with the medicine. "
"I'll look into it." When he gave me his cold stare, I added, "I promise."
I walked Lom to his train to return to Porterville, remindin' me of my promises to get some help and sleep. I'd see him again in two weeks.
I couldn't sleep on the train. I just thought about Chrissy and layered the guilt on myself until it was so heavy, I thought I'd crumble with the weight. I was hungry so I took my bag and went to the dinin' car. But instead of food, I sat down at the bar and ordered a whiskey. I didn't drink it. I just looked at it. I rolled the glass between my hands, seein' the traces of black beneath my fingernails. The doctor had said he had seen the black dust in the wounds on my back. I watched the amber liquid splash around the sides of the glass. My hangover had passed while I visited with Heyes. Now I was just tired and for the first time understood what he meant when Grandpa Curry said he was weary.
"Mister, you okay?" The bartender's voice startled me out of a dreamless sleep. I know I gave him a startled look from the look I got back. At least I didn't reach for my gun. That reflex left me in prison.
"You gonna drink that whiskey or spill it? You been cradling it for an hour now."
"An hour? Where are we?"
"But twenty minutes out of Bridgeport, Nebraska."
"Thanks. I looked at the drink one more time. Don't think I want it." I resolved not to drink again until Heyes could watch my back. I needed to work and work harder. Be strong and get stronger. I had a family to build a life for – Heyes, Chrissy and a baby.
ASJ*****ASJ
I had hoped Chrissy would be watchin' for my return on the front porch that evenin', but I could see from the bottom of the road the porch was empty. I stopped outside the blacksmith shop to drop off the new gloves and apron I had bought in Cheyenne. I heard something. I closed my eyes and listened to Chrissy's voice softly readin' in the room behind the shop just like she'd done every night I was home for the last week. I was so tired that just hearin' the sound of her voice almost brought me to tears. But Jed Curry doesn't cry, I told myself. I didn't let the tears fall even though my eyes were full when we buried our families. Prison didn't break me; lashes didn't make me cry out. I was tough. But hearin' the voice of the woman I loved made me tear up.
With my new purchases in my hand, I leaned against the back door of the room and watched her. I closed my eyes and must have nodded off because when I opened them, her voice was quiet. She was staring at me, but her eyes weren't blank. They didn't hold the anger or revolution I had imagined. They were…expectant, concerned. Sayin' nothing, she watched as I walked past her and put them on my anvil. That was all. She left and was walkin' up the hill to the house. I led my horse the rest of the way up the road.
Juan was waitin' near the porch. As he took my horse, his eyes flicked to the house. "She's been in her room most all day. Been taking her food in to her. Hasn't eaten much. She took a book from that stack in the living room and read to the mare. Next thing I know, she had started reading it out loud down at your shop. She's inside herself, again."
"She may be starin' at nothing but she's listenin', Juan. I think she hears everything."
I added the new books to the stack and went to drop my bag in my room. I saw Chrissy in her rockin' chair, eyes locked below the window when I passed her room.
I dropped my travel bag on the floor but did take out the salve, laudanum and instructions. I took off my shirt thinkin' I'd try puttin' the salve where I coul,d but my bed was callin' me. Plannin' to sleep an hour or so until dinner, I fell asleep, face buried in my pillow, still wearin' my boots and gun. If I dreamed, I don't remember it. I was that tired. I woke up just after dawn the next mornin'. My boots and gun were on my dresser, but I was still fully dressed. I held still, not darin' to breathe, to move. Chrissy was spreadin' the salve on my back. When she finished, she left, and I sat up. I wanted to stretch but knew the newly stitched wounds hurt more if I did that.
I saw the tin with the instructions now sitting on my night table. Chrissy must have found it. She must have come into my room while I was sleepin'. A thought struck me…did she take off my gun and boots without my knowin' it? Later that evening, I asked Juan if he had done it and he said he hadn't.
Chrissy returned with a spoon and a cup of tea. She measured the laudanum into the spoon and mixed it into the tea. She held it out to me.
"No, Chrissy, I got work to do. A lot of work. Can't be sleepin' the mornin' away."
She pointed to the written instructions.
"I know what the doctor said and thank you for puttin' the salve on my back." I saw a wash basin on the dresser with water tinged red. "And you cleaned my back, too?"
She didn't answer my question. Instead, she pushed the tea at me. I took a sip to please her, happy she wasn't hidin' in her room. Maybe I could get her to trust me again. I put the cup on the night table. She scooped it up and forced it into my hands.
"All! Now!" She looked into my face with determination, but quickly looked away. I had seen the concern there again before it disappeared.
"Okay." I drank the bitter liquid on one gulp. "A little sleep won't put me too far behind."
"Good," she said and left, takin' the medicine and instructions with her.
ASJ*****ASJ
Heyes
The Kid and Lom were here, and everything seems to be alright. For now. Nothing stays all right for me. The prison doctor, Doc Thompson, took care of me. Cleaned the shiv wound I couldn't reach, stitched it up. He gave me something for pain, but it didn't help. I am staying in my cell, not the infirmary. Those two men from the new Devil's Hole Gang that want to kill me are sick with the measles and are in the infirmary. Better for me here.
He gave me something to make me sleep. It worked. For a while. Don't know how long. I'm awake now. Feeling dizzy. Thoughts spinning.
"Guard?" I yelled as loudly as my dry throat lets me. I can tell I have a fever now. Think I had one before but was so scared that if I went to the infirmary, I would lose my chance at freedom so tried to ignore it. I know I'm not supposed to talk. Silence is the rule here. Now I'm worried what the guard will do because I talked.
My head feels heavy. The guard did not come. I pull the piss pot from under the bed and use it, but little comes out. I finish what's left of the water in my pitcher and think if I should call the guard again. But my eyes close and fall asleep. Sleep with nightmares. Sleep with pain. The Kid is just out of my reach to touch in the dreams.
Someone is sitting next to my bed. I know this routine. It has been the pattern for I think three days now. Doc Thompson is here. As a prison doctor, he doesn't need a bedside manner. He has none. He doesn't care if he's rough. Don't know if he even cares if prisoners live. We're nothing but a paycheck to him. He'll bring fresh water with him. Take the bandage off my back and sometimes put a salve that cools on it. But I heard him tell the guard that stuff is expensive. That wounds heal without it. It just makes it less painful. But since that mind doctor Arden was paying for it, he'd at least use some of it.
Today he spreads a thin layer on before he bandages it up too tight. I try to tell him, but a guard says, "Silence, convict!"
Next, he gives me laudanum. Tells me he'll be back in five hours to give me more. Makes me sleepy and thirsty. I drink water and lay down and sleep finds me quickly. It is not a relaxing sleep. There are nightmares I can't wake up from. Kid's in trouble. He's drowning in the river. I try to reach him, but my feet are shackled to the ground. Heavy prison shackles. I can't call it out to him; the words stay in my throat. And it doesn't stop. I keep watching him struggle, over and over.
I am aware that someone is in my cell, but it is not the usual routine. "Han, I'm trying to get to Devil's Hole, but I can't find it. This is Jed. Help me. Help me, I'm lost!"
I must still be asleep. The Kid knows where the Hole is. Can find it in his sleep. He hasn't called me Han since we left the Home. So, I close my eyes and the nightmares return. Kid is facing someone faster. I need to reach him to tell him not to fight.