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The cold rain kept many customers away most of the week. Jenny's place was almost barren that day as the Boys sat before her at the Blackjack table, the parlor stove heating their corner. A damp breeze swirled around them as the full doors were opened and the unmistakable silhouette of a well-dressed gentleman filled the space. He walked directly to the Blackjack table.
"George Hildreth Devol, at your service, Ma'am." The middle-aged gentleman removed his hat to Jenny and placed it across his chest.
"Hildy! What are you doing this far from the Old Man? Never mind that, come give me a big Hildy Hug!"
The two embraced as Curry and Heyes looked up from the Blackjack table Jenny had just vacated.
"Did he say 'Devol'?" Heyes asked Curry quietly, mouth agape, keeping his gaze on the stranger.
"Yeah, 's'what the man said." Curry replied with awe, staring at Jenny and her visitor.
They were well aware of the name George Devol, best gambler on the Mississippi, con artist, big-time cheat, and a card sharp unequaled. He was revered in gambling halls everywhere.
"It must be ten years, Hildy. Oh, you're looking dapper as ever! Welcome back to Blacky's!" Jenny held tightly onto the man's arms.
Devol chuckled and kissed Jenny on the cheek. "You're beautiful as you were the very day I met you back in... how long ago was that?" Devol winked. "Introduced you to Liam."
"You did that, Hildy. Forever in your debt." A tear welled in Jenny's eye. She wiped it away quickly and smiled cheerily at Devol. "Harry, a bottle of the best whiskey for my good friend Hildy!"
She looked back to her table players. "Hildy, I want you to meet a couple good friends of mine. This is Hannibal Heyes and Jedediah Curry."
The boys stood quickly, jumping from their chairs like school boys called on to recite in class. Heyes spoke first.
"So very proud to meet you, Mister Devol!" He shook the card sharp's hand enthusiastically.
"I'm honored, sir!" Curry's more reticent and militarily proper greeting was countered by his very enthusiastic handshake.
"Gentlemen! Always a pleasure to meet good friends of Jenny's. You in town long?"
"They been working for me, Hildy. And learning the gambling trade." Jenny left the last sentence hanging to gauge Devol's willingness to share his art with her younger friends. She wasn't disappointed. Neither were the Boys.
"Learning my stock and trade, are you? Well, we'll have to spend some time together, boys. You like that?"
"Yes, Mister Devol, we'd like that very much!"
"Very kind of you, sir!"
Jenny smiled at the boyish faces locked in admiration. "Do you mind if we continue the Blackjack game later, boys? Want to get reacquainted with my good friend."
"No, Jenny! Fine! We'll move around the house, keep an eye on things. You two enjoy yourselves!"
It took a few seconds for Heyes to act on his words before he turned briskly, right smack into his cousin who was still locked in place staring at the card sharp walking away from them. Heyes pulled his head back and gave Curry a big-brotherly scowl for a few seconds, then turned his cousin with his body.
"C'mon!"
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So the Boys received a first-class education in being card sharps. Not that either planned on going into the line of work, but for their own defense in gambling halls and saloons.
Nothing Heyes hated worse than being chumped! Plummer still played on his mind as he'd lay in bed at night thinking the grand thoughts of a twenty-two year old, Plummer creeping in and laughing at him. He'd never let anyone chump him again! Knowing all the moves a card sharp could make, all the slights and all the cons, will be a real security to him with most in the gambling world.
Curry's natural curiosity and desire to learn from his betters was his driving force. He didn't have his cousin's innate ability with odds, but he was a good student and pleased his teacher with his insightful questions that led him to the same conclusions as Heyes. He didn't need to be the best, knowing how it all worked was good enough for Curry. He could defend himself with that.
It was Heyes, of course, who took to the learning with more gusto, constantly shuffling a deck of cards, palming cards, practicing all the hand tricks that a card sharp executed as easily as he breathed. Heyes wanted to be that good. Day and night he practiced the arts, using his cousin as his mark, seeing how much he could get past him. Waking him in the middle of the night as he mastered another one, a bleary-eyed Curry begging for sleep but doing his part in the game, for his cousin.
It was only natural, when the clientele of Jenny's establishment saw them regularly sitting with Devol, that there would come a day when the Boys would be called out for cheating. It was a day that made a life-long change in Heyes.
An irate mine guard accused Curry of cheating at poker. Curry never cheated at any game and said so. Heyes, sitting between them, spoke in his defense. But losing to the innocent blue eyes and baby face only riled the guard all the more. His chair scraped loudly across the floor as he stood across the table from Curry, his intention clear, Curry trying hard to placate the man, Heyes's silver tongue failing both of them. The guard threw the table over. He pointed a big finger right in Heyes's face.
"Don't think you're gettin' away with anything here, boy! You got the same thing comin' for all the cheatin' you done me. Now shut up and wait yer turn!" He turned his mutton-chopped face again to Curry.
"Get up, boy. This is that last time you'll ever cheat me or anyone. You wear a Colt on your hip, you better know how to use it, you cow ass lovin' cheat."
Heyes knew there was nothing else for it. He knew his cousin was fast. Like himself, Curry had learned to shoot on the Kansas prairie as a boy, long before Heyes taught him to shave. But he'd never pointed a loaded weapon at another man before. Three years in the cavalry don't mean much when most soldiers never discharge their weapon except on the firing range. Now Jeddie has to defend himself, and thanks to the bullying nature of the guard, he has to defend both of them, with one shot. It means someone's life, and it could be his cousin's either way.
But he wouldn't leave him. Nothing else he can do but sit and watch. And wait his turn.
The rest of the room cleared away from the contestants. Curry sat with eyes locked on the guard's and with no change of expression, he slowly rose. The contestants faced each other, the puffed up, tense guard and Curry totally relaxed and loose, yet still as a statue. Heyes held his breath watching for the action.
It was over before anyone saw it! The guard began his move and froze as he was faced with a Colt aimed straight at him, trigger already cocked. Did Curry's arm even move? Gasps were heard all over the hall.
Heyes let out his breath. He looked from his cousin to the astonished guard. "I'd get my money."
The man knew he was alive only because Curry hadn't pulled the trigger, though by rights he could have. He wondered how long the rule covered that.
But Curry made the rules now.
"I'd say you had about thirty-four dollars on the table. Now it's on the floor. Get it and get out." Curry's light voice and baby face contrasted with the Colt in his hand and the deadly game that had just been played.
The guard did as told. The room went back to business. The table was picked up and the money piled back on, the other two players taking theirs and getting away fast with backward glances at the boyish-faced drover with the fastest hand they ever saw.
Through it all, Heyes sat in his chair, his dark eyes looking up at his cousin, deep thoughts obviously crossing his mind. Curry twirled and re-holstered his Colt, looked down at him and sat. Heyes watched to see if he'd breathe out hard or shake his shoulders or give any sign he'd been worked up. Nothing. His cousin appeared to be as calm as if he were still playing a friendly game of poker.
"I'll never watch that again."
And he never did.
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"I practice my draw same reason as you! To be fast as we can! 'Cause some day we'll need to be! You got no reason to talk that way to me!"
Heyes stood leaning against the footboard of their bed, arms comfortably crossed on his chest, merely watching his cousin, giving no response but letting the inner thoughts come barreling out in whatever order his cousin found them.
"An' you! You been shot at in gangs, haven't you? An' you shot back! Think I didn't know what happens there? This ain't new to you!" Can't you see it's new to me?
Curry stalked the room as he unloaded on his best friend, pressing a shoulder into Heyes's chest to make a point, his face inches away and eyes locked on Heyes's, then back to pace and rant.
"I ain't no different than you or anyone carries a pistol! He was goin' to draw on you! Think I was goin' to let that happen? I see you draw every day when we practice an' I know you're fast! Damn fast! An' I know I'm faster! YOU know I'm faster! You oughtta be grateful he called me out first! Or I'd be the only one in this r..."
He couldn't finish the thought. He was sorry that spilled out.
Dark brown eyes widened ever so slightly at that last one, but Heyes kept silent. He knew there was more.
Curry slumped his shoulders and lowered his head. He paced a few steps and stopped. His right boot heel stomped softly as he faced his cousin, now in a more calm manner, the steam having been released.
"But I ain't no different than you. Or anyone. You know that, Hannie."
No response.
"So you had no call talkin' to me that way, Hannie. It's all I'm sayin'."
So, this is how he handles it afterward. Well, now that I know what it's all about...
Heyes then spoke to his cousin, calmly and evenly.
"Yes, you are different, Jeddie. I don't want to say it, I don't like where this is leading us, but you are different. You are fast. Very, very fast. An' out here, there's a certain kind of man who takes that personal. We got to plan for that."
"How come it's all about me? You're fast! They've all seen you draw before I got here! How come we ain't talkin' 'bout makin' plans for you?"
Heyes took a deep breath, put his fingers to his mouth and looked at the ceiling. "Well, that's a good point. We gotta make a plan that covers us both. But, kid, no one's gonna be ridin' far to challenge me. I spent three years with four gangs, seen a lot o' men with the reputation an' I'm tellin' ya, what I saw down there is like nothin' I ever saw before. Or heard tell of. Ain't even close."
Curry set sad blue eyes on his cousin. "Heyes, I don't wanna be different. Ain't bein' an orphan enough? Ain't the dreams enough?"
Heyes looked at the sad blue eyes and hated to tell Jeddie the truth. But he'd done that once long ago for his cousin and painful as it was, he'd do it again.
"It's too late, Jeddie. After the demonstration you just put on, in a busy gambling hall the size of Jenny's, word'll spread. Our lives just changed forever."
Curry wrapped his arms around his chest and turned his face away from Heyes.
"Seems like all my life, all I ever do is wish I could go back."
Heyes smiled wistfully and put a hand on Curry's shoulder. He squeezed. "I ain't sayin' we got to blow our world apart. I'm just sayin' we got to plan for the inevitable." Both hands moved to the sides of Curry's neck and he gave a brotherly pull. "Hm? We'll work on this together." Standing back, he gave Curry an encouraging smile.
Curry cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. "Well, don't excuse what you said to me."
Now Heyes needed an explanation. "What did I say that's got you all proddy?" That an irate mine guard with intent to kill us both couldn't do?
"You said you ain't watchin' me again. Like I'm some kind o' monster or... or Ruffian."
Flashes of Valparaiso ran through the mind of Heyes. He, fifteen years old, leaning against the big oak tree on the edge of the grounds, stub of a rolled cigarette dangling in his right hand, knowing that now he'd become a man he'd soon run away to make his own way in the world, and watching his not-yet-thirteen year old cousin getting razzed by the older boys. Jeddie and his friends surrounded, taunts coming from all angles. And suddenly, Jeddie picks up a stick. "Ha! I'm AA-rah-MEE! Best swordsman in FRAH-nce!" And Jeddie chasing away the laughing bigger boys with his 'sword'.
"Ah, kid. It ain't you. You ain't no Ruffian. You ain't no gunslinger. You could never be those! You are a defender. A US Cavalry trooper! I'm proud o' you for that." He straightened and took a breath, regrouping his thoughts.
"Listen. We know the odds are in our favor, we got that much, kid. But they're just odds. An' when you take me out of the game, an' I'm out now, by nature I'm out..." He tried to find the right words that wouldn't hurt Jeddie.
"Something cracked in me down there. A new cut went through me, the kind I ain't felt since that night. I'll always be with you, Jeddie, just like that night. Nothing can ever make me leave you. But can you really expect me to watch? Again?"
Curry lowered his head. "I'm sorry, Hannie."
Bringing up their tragic past was hard on them both. Heyes took a step closer. "We just got to set down the rules of the plan, so we both know what each is doin' an' when, that's all."
He released his hold but kept an arm around Curry's shoulders and placed a hand on his chest, eyes on Curry's. "I told you I'm proud of you, Jeddie. I meant that. From the bottom of my heart. You never stop amazing me!"
A sweet smile spread over Curry's face. Heyes patted a shoulder.
"Smells like supper's done cookin' downstairs." He knew food would lift his cousin's spirits. "Let's take the back stairs right down to the kitchen!" he added conspiratorially and winked. "C'mon!"
"Bossy."
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"Oh, God, they're at it again!" Jenny closed her eyes to the shouting in the hallway at the top of the stairs. This had become tiresome! "Why can't they settle a disagreement like rational people?" She raised her hands and let them fall to her lap.
A rift appeared recently that, from what Jenny could gather, set around where and what the Boys would do next for work. But she noticed the rift opening after Jeddie's unplanned fast draw exhibition, and by the frequent spats since that day, she feared it was tearing them apart.
Curry wanted to honor their word and return to Texas cattle country for the rest of the year and drive the Chisholm Trail next spring. Heyes, he wanted to fly. All the card sharp skills were ready to bust out of him if he didn't get out into the gambling world again and test his abilities. Curry knew it was a line he was being fed. He knew Heyes wanted to go back to Devil's Hole. Heyes told him straight out he would never take Curry to Devil's Hole. That was never on Curry's mind so he knew Heyes had just spilled the beans. "That's immoral!" Heyes has no argument for that. But the argument continued, only because of the innate need of the cousins to be together.
Just last night after closing, it almost came to fisticuffs! Harry watched them out of the corner of his eye, the way they walked around each other all evening, the way they stiffened up when approached by the other, just seemed to him like two boxers sizing up the other in the ring. He wasn't wrong.
"NO, YOU AIN'T!" A stomp of the right boot heel. Blue eyes set on brown, two chins thrust at each other, four fists balled up, four boots planted firmly on the wooden floor toe-to-toe.
"Get this through your thick skull." When did he get tall as me? "I do as I please. No little cousin of mine IS GONNA TELL ME HOW TO LIVE MY..."
The end of Heyes's reproach was lost in the loud crash! as Curry body-slammed his cousin onto a table, the legs giving out and the two young men wrestling onto the floor. Harry was on them in a flash!
"Break it up, you two, BREAK IT UP, or I'll knock both your thick skulls together!" He held each by the back of the collar and shook a few times for good measure. "I won't have this in Jenny's place, hear? Take it out back!" He thrust the two apart.
Bam! Bam! Two empty beer glasses hit the bar and green eyes glared at Heyes. He glared right back, but lost when Brigid turned her body haughtily while keeping her eyes fixed on his, letting him see the full extent of her displeasure before turning to walk away.
Heyes ran fingers through his hair, then set hands on his hips. A deep sigh was let out as he gazed unfocused on the back of the bar.
Curry, chagrined, looked down at the busted table, not wanting to look Jenny in the eye. "Sorry" was all he could muster before leaving through the kitchen back door.
"Hannibal." Heyes turned to Jenny. "You're the elder. So you tell me. Who does all this fall on?"
Heyes looked at the door his cousin had just exited.
Jenny thought she saw remorse and hoped Hannibal would use the mind God had given him to find a solution to their conflict.
But if he did, well, he hadn't put a plan into action, as here she is, the very next night, relaxing in her home and they start up again!
Seemed Jenny could get no peace from their row. Yet, Hildy didn't blink an eye when she recounted the near-fight to him.
"Not strange for brothers to rile the other and insist on doing things one way. I speak from experience." Hildy sipped from his brandy glass. He and Jenny were sharing the evening on the settee in her parlor.
Jenny huffed. "Brothers. They got that going for them, but they're cousins." Jenny looked at Hildy and wondered if she should have revealed that piece of information.
Hildy mulled it over. "That should make a difference, but I noticed it doesn't with them. They're awful close." He looked sideways at Jenny. "Must be a story there, somewhere."
Jenny didn't want to break the Boys' defensive shell they'd lived in since boyhood. "More?" she asked coyly, holding up the brandy bottle. Hildy held out his glass. They both raised their eyes to the ceiling as the upstairs 'discussion' increased in volume.
"WHERE YOU GOIN'?!" The baritone voice was demanding.
SLAM! The door to Room Four was shut angrily. Muffled stomping in the room, a pause, stomping, then the handle jiggling roughly until the door was thrown open to bang against the inside wall.
"What's it to you?" The light voice. SLAM! went the bedroom door.
"You strap on your Colt in that fit an' it's my business! WHERE?!"
Boots stomping down the staircase.
"YOU KNOW YOU'RE STILL A MINOR!"
Boots stomping through the kitchen.
"LEGALLY!"
Boots stomping out the back door. SLAM!
Mumbling at the top of the stairs. "...give up... silver tongue my Irish a... ...even know... sayin' anymore... " Boots stomping down the staircase and into the saloon. SLAM! went the saloon side door.
Two sets of eyes followed the sounds from upstairs to down. Jenny sighed.
"They're such good boys, Hildy. You should have seen Hannibal three years ago when Jeddie joined up with the cavalry. He hid it well as he could, but every day he worried so about his younger cousin. Now they're together and they can't seem to agree on which way the sun rises!"
"Jenny, I might have a few words of wisdom for Hannibal."
"Please, do your best! Those boys have to get back on track and I'm at a loss. Perhaps a man's perspective is needed."
Hildy patted her thigh. "I will do my best. But... not just yet. Let hot heads cool a bit."
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Cheyenne was busier in the dark than daylight. Every street and boardwalk filled with people bustling from the light of one open door to the next, all manner of dress to see and accent to hear. Curry wondered where many of them originated. Couples walking as one, leaning together in the shadows, groups of laughing ladies entering and exiting restaurants, men gregariously conversing and greeting friends, slapping backs, sauntering in for a drink.
Curry walked up and down the streets, leaning against posts, watching the array of societies blend and separate and blend again, nodding respectfully to the sheriff, politely declining street walkers, glancing into saloons as he walked past. He gazed above the roof peaks and wondered where the moon was.
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It was a packed house. Every game and gambling table had a crowd and a half surrounding it, Billy and Harry barely keeping up with the drinks, Brigid and the other barmaids constantly running glasses from and to the bar.
And in the dark corner at the table all by himself sat the dark haired cousin, hat pulled low. He grasped a whiskey bottle in one hand and glass in the other.
"Harry, a whiskey glass, if you please." The gentleman gambler crossed the room to Heyes.
"A shame to waste a bottle of fine whiskey on thoughts alone."
The dark hat raised until dark eyes could be seen. No reply.
"Care to share with a friend?" He set down the glass and his light gray hat. "Just the whiskey. Thoughts optional."
They sat watching the goings on of the room until the bottle was almost empty when Heyes finally opened up. At least to the glass of whiskey, which he held with both hands in front of him.
"Don't know what I'm doin' wrong. He was a model trooper. Saluted smartly. Obeyed all orders. Did his job without one complaint. Got a commendation! Didn't put up a fight every time there was a decision been made."
Hildy gave a smile at the last one. "Tough not being a commissioned officer, isn't it?"
"Huh?" Heyes looked up questioningly. "I never signed up! Not for me, thank you! No-o-o, sir!" His glass wavered on the path to his mouth.
The gambler sat back in his chair, crossing an ankle over a knee. "Oh. Sounded like you expected your cousin to fall in rank for you. He was discharged, wasn't he?"
Heyes turned to Hildy, studying the man's face. "You're bein' sarcashic."
"It's usually the ex-military man who has the hard time first adjusting in civilian life. How'd you two work things out before the cavalry?"
"He was a kid when I signed him over. We grew up together and I pr... I'm responsible for him. An' I guess before then he naturally followed like he would his da."
Hildy noted the expression. "Close knit Irish family?"
He knew Hildy was fishing for more information after his little slip of the tongue. "Was. Still is, what's left of it." He leaned back with a groan. "But you're right. Thought I'd get an easy way to control him but I got no rank for that."
"He need controlling?"
"Wrong word. He's my younger cousin, see? Love him like a brother, always have. But he ain't the smartest. He ain't stupid! I did not say he's stupid!" The pointer finger waving in Hildy's face made that clear.
"He's just steps behind me." A gulp of whiskey. "Or nowhere in sight.
"He's a natural late starter, see? An' he ain't been out in the world long as I have, see? An' I got to look out for him. More, now there's the fast draw." He shook his head. "God, he's fast!"
The heel of his hand pressed against his brow as he moaned. "Oh, what am I gonna do about the fast draw?" He refilled his glass and took a gulp.
"We're drifters, see, takin' jobs where we can an' that takes some thinkin' out in the world. An' sometimes I got to do things for us that he can't but thinks he can, an' all I can do is say 'No, you ain't.' Every time, say 'No'." Another gulp. "Wearin' on me.
"An' he don't understand why he ain't the better one to make the decision for us. Or for him. An' so he thinks I don't care what he says or what he thinks... or..." He stopped, looking at his glass as a thought occurred to him.
"Maybe he thinks I think he's stupid." A finger lifted from the glass and moved right, left, right, and he nodded to himself.
He lowered his head, placing his hand over the top of his hat. "Hurts me."
"And he doesn't see that you're hurt."
The hand came down on the table. The black hat remained lowered.
"That ain't important to me. I got the responsibility and the hurt comes with, learned long time ago."
"I see. You want to control circumstances to keep him safe."
Dark brown eyes lifted from lap to table top.
"You're the elder and can don the father hat. But you're limited. Can't pull that rank every time or he'll rear up and leave, putting him at risk. And because you're close in age, you're even more limited."
The black hat bobbed.
"Well, having a backup won't change things, he'll only dig in his heels. Am I right?"
Heyes patted Hildy's shoulder with a floppy hand. "That he would, my frien'!" He smiled at his glass.
"What you need is a neutral position to back you up."
Brown eyes fixed on the tabletop. "That's impossible."
He turned to Hildy, the floppy hand grasping the brim of his hat. "Z'at possible?"
"You have a quick eye, Heyes. And you know how to use your face and your eyes to keep the attention of your mark away from your slight of hand."
"High praise!" He shyly raised the front of his hat and replaced it, dark strands escaping, and turned serious. "What you gettin' at?"
"The infallible coin toss."
"The infal... bi...low coin toss?"
"Allow me to demonstrate."
Hildy showed Heyes how to toss a coin three times and always catch it knowing which side is touching the palm of the hand.
"See? Here it goes." Heyes counted one, two, three, catch. "It's heads when I set it down." It was! Heyes's eyes brightened.
"Now, you got to know which side is showing on your hand before the toss, and when the third flip is done, catch it just right. Snatch from above using fingers to pull it into your palm. Or get the palm above and grab down. Like so!" Hildy tossed the coin again. "Is it heads or tails?"
"Tails." And tails it was.
"Like I said, you've a quick eye, Heyes! Now, the next con is the high toss. Just raise the arm up fast and higher, then flip three times." Hildy demonstrated. "Makes the mark think the coin flipped more times because the it's higher in the air when his eyes catch up with it.
"Here, take my dollar and practice. When you got this much down, try adding another flip, just to keep the mark strung."
Heyes grinned. "The inflab... ible coin toss!" He set the coin on his curled fingers and flicked. It bounced on then off the table and rolled back under his chair. He bumped his head on the table retrieving it. "Maybe should practice in my room." He stood wavering.
Hildy took hold of the bottle of whiskey. "You'll master it, Heyes. For your cousin."
"For my cousin. The infal... lible, neutral..." The pointer finger accentuated the distinction. "...coin toss."
"Heyes."
He turned at the waist, grinning wide, his body swaying in a small circle.
"It isn't for you. It's for him."
Heyes winked. "For my cousin."
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The light was off as Curry entered their darkened room, but the singing let him know Heyes was already there. Not really singing, there were no words, no discernible melody, just a happy falsetto voice half singing and half humming 'ee' and 'ah'.
Curry lit the lamp on the bed stand. Heyes was lying on the bedspread with his head at the foot of the bed.
"You're drunk."
Louder singing. "E-E-E-E..."
"C'mon." Curry removed Heyes's boots, socks, and clothing down to his long johns. He walked to the other side and pushed the sheet and blankets to the center, grabbed his cousin's hands and pulled him to sit upright, spun him on his backside and let him flop onto the pillow. He laid the blankets over him.
"For my... your cousin?"
"For my cousin." Curry returned to the other side, removed his gun belt, hung it on the chair back and undressed down to his long johns. He put out the light and slid under the covers.
"G'night, Jeddie."
"Good night, Hannie." He punched his pillow and turned onto his side facing the edge of the bed.
"No more singing, alright?"
"Alright. For my cousin."
"You're drunk."
Quiet singing. "ah-ah-ah."
Rhythmic breathing of sleep soon replaced the singing. A warm breeze entered the side window playing with the lace curtains. It moved over the bed and caressed the faces of the Boys, danced with the lace curtains of the front window and slipped outside. The rising gibbous moon spread her mantle of light over the land. And peace settled on the minds and in the hearts of the two young men asleep.
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