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January 1872

Heyes couldn't see where the trouble was. In fact, he was impressed with his cousin's shooting and proud of it, proud of the plan, too! Could it be the dreams? It didn't seem that Jeddie had any insurmountable problems, in fact he'd probably get a commendation for his actions. Heyes continued with the next posted letter. Jeddie took up right where he'd left off, as if they were sitting together in the doggery in La Junta.


Dear Hannie,

It aint just the dreams got me in trouble. Miss Rachel's father don't take to me, he said so and got to handling me in the shed out back his house and First Sergeant Sims saw but I didn't know. And I had no where to go after he said it because I didn't want to go back to the barracks so early when I was out for a social so I went to the stables and First Sergeant Sims came there.


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Sims was walking his horse to stretch out its lame leg, taking it once around the perimeter of the compound that evening and had crouched to examine the leg. He was behind the officers' residences when the Major General and Private Curry walked across the back yard. Curry seemed worried, almost scared with the big officer's hand on his shoulder. Didn't look right to Sims. He paused at the back of the shed and listened. He looked in the window and saw the Major General holding the private up against the wall, then drop him. Curry put a hand to his face. The Major General left and soon after, Curry stepped out and moved to the side of the shed. He wiped a cloth at his face, looked left and right, and ran off. Only thing that way is the stables, just where Sims was headed, himself.

Leaning against the shed, Jeddie had heard the sounds of singing in the house when the Major General opened the back door to reenter his home, Christmas carols being sung by his friends and Miss Rachel that he wasn't allowed to join. He found his handkerchief and wiped at the blood and then he ran, just ran. The stables would be empty this time of night.

He opened the walk-in door of the stable, stepped into the darkness and ran to Brazen's stall, quickly releasing the latch and entering. Stifling sobs, he threw his face into the horse's mane and wrapped his arms around the neck. The tears fell despite his greatest effort to contain them. He wasn't even a man, men never cry. Why did he think he could be in the cavalry?

Should've listened to Hannie, he's always right, he's so much smarter!

The stable door was opened. Oh, no! Don't move and maybe he won't notice me! Sounds of a man leading a horse, they pass by, a stall door is opened on the other side, so far he's been unnoticed. A lantern is lit. Oh, boy, just my luck.

"Your horse having trouble, Private Curry?"

First Sergeant Sims' voice! Oh, boy. Jeddie peered over his bent arm across the stable. "First Sergeant Sims?"

Sims slowly and steadily closed his stall gate and walked up to the boy's gate. One blue eye peaked out above the boy's arm bent on the withers of his Morgan. He looks like he's fourteen years old, if that.

"Not much reason to be in the stables this time of night, unless there's a problem."

The blue eye blinked. The boy tucked his face into his arm and moved it left and right, and the blue eye peered back at him again. Sims opened the stall door and moved to the opposite side of the Morgan and the blue eye opened wide.

"Maybe I can help." He placed his hands on the Morgan, feigning examination down the gelding's legs. He rose and put his arms across the gelding's back.

"Can't see what's ailing him," he spoke to the one blue eye. The boy removed his arm and turned away from him, leaning his back into the gelding's shoulder, his head bowed.

"It ain' the horse, First Sergeant Sims. He's perfect." A pause, the boy slapped the side of his leg. "I'm the problem." His shoulders shook from the deep sigh. Sims smiled, wondering what world-shattering tragedy the youth faced.

"Aw, can't be so bad your horse can't undo it."

He thought he saw a little smile on the boy's face when his head turned to the side.

"Didn't I just see you at the house of Major General Wellington?" Sims gave the boy a place to start.

"Yes, First Sergeant Sims."

"We'll be here all night if you keep that up. 'Sergeant' will do for now."

"Yes, Sergeant."

"Had a social to go to?" The boy didn't know where to start.

"Yes, Sergeant."

"And you're in the stables now with your horse, instead."

"Yes, Sergeant."

"Hm." Sims pretended to ponder the boy's situation. "Social not to your liking?"

"No, Sergeant. I mean yes, Sergeant. I mean... it weren't me, Sergeant. It was Major General Wellington who didn't want..."

"What didn't Major General Wellington want?"

"Me, Sergeant."

"At the social in his house?"

"Yes, Sergeant."

"Hm. That's a strange thing to happen when a man's been invited to a social. He give a reason?"

"Yes, Sergeant."

Sims was nothing if not patient with the boy. "And the reason was..." Sims prompted. No response. Sims reached across the gelding to tap the boy's shoulder. "The reason was?"

The boy turned to face him, his blue eyes framed in wet lashes, looking up as if searching for the answers to all of life's questions, and the dam broke.

The dream and the screams at night and everyone knows, and Mrs. Wellington don't let him in the house, and the shed out back and Major General Wellington lifted him and pushed him against the wall, and micks and candle burners and he don't like them or orphans and he don't know his own name and he can't see Miss Rachel no more, and the pain on his face and the sparks it made in his head and the blood and nowhere to go but the stables and he wanted to be in the cavalry and do all this, ALL this so he could save money for him and his cousin who had to sign for him and who said he was real proud of him but now he's in big trouble, really big trouble and his cousin ain't in La Junta, before he was in Cheyenne but now he don't know where he is, he's so far away and they can't talk so he don't know if he's proud anymore.

His lower lip quivered in the pout. He pushed his cavalry hat off to his back and laid his forehead onto Brazen's side, his dark blond wavy hair all Sims could see of him.

"How old are you, boy?"

He pulled off the gelding, sniffed, ran a cuff across his nose and mouth, a quiet "Ow," and raised his face to him. "Seventeen, Sergeant. But I'll be eighteen in spring."

"Why didn't your father sign for you?"

"We got no family, just us two left." A pause. "The Border Wars."

"Mm. They was Free Soilers?"

"Yes, Sergeant." Maybe that's what a candle burner is. Hannie will know.

"Your cousin the one riding out the fort when we returned?" Sims had noted the horsemanship of the galloping rider even from a distance before entering the fort and eyeing the new recruits that spring.

"Yes, Sergeant."

For the first time, the boy contributed to the conversation. "You got family, Sergeant?"

Sims smiled. He was breaking down the wall. "Yep! Fourteen." He gave a slap on Brazen's croup.

"Fourteen? Brothers and sisters?"

"Far as I know." Sims chuckled at the look of amazement on the boy's face, his big eyes sparkling blue in the lantern light, his mouth open in a big 'O'. Sims left the stall and moved to the wooden bench across from it and sat.

"Come here, boy. Sit." The boy did as told.

Sims leaned forward setting his forearms on his thighs. "You're wondering how the cavalry is going to deal with you." The boy nodded.

"Well, I can guess at their options but can't say exactly what they'll end up doing." The boy looked up at him. He pulled his cavalry hat back on his head and set his forearms on his thighs. Sims smiled at the boy and his ability to learn from observation, so eager to emulate his superiors.

"They could give you a medical discharge. They could offer another position. They could keep you on for now and see how and if things change. I can tell you this: the cavalry doesn't do a lot of things in a hurry out here on the frontier."

"Is a medical discharge bad?"

"It's an honorable discharge. Can't say what it'll do to a pension."

"Ain't never even thought about a pension, Sergeant. But..."

"Go on, Private."

"Well, isn't it bad to have to take another position? After you joined up and got accepted for the cavalry?"

"Depends on the situation. Sometimes the new position is lower in rank or pay, or both. Sometimes it's equal. A soldier just has to see what is offered him."

"Offered." The boy took the word as hopeful, Sims noted. "But, Sergeant, it's more than the pay or rank, isn't it?"

"How do you mean?"

"Well, it's doing something else because you're not allowed to do something you want to do. Kind of being forced out of something. Isn't it?"

"You have to learn, boy, that your place in the world isn't always your choosing. Sometimes you have to accept that doing something else is where you belong." Sims thought on another young man about six years older than Curry he'd been trying to get through to on just that. This boy looked thoughtful of his words.

"Yes, Sergeant. I guess me and my cousin been doing that ever since..." The boy hung his head.

"Very good, Private. Now, as to Major General Wellington."

Oh boy, I'm in big trouble now!

"The Major General may have been right. It might be a private matter between you two. This is something to talk over with your sergeant. That's Sergeant Quinn, yes?"

"Yes, Sergeant."

"He's a good sergeant and cavalry man. He'll steer you right." He looked at the boy to see if he was satisfied. No, one more thing. "And then there's Miss Rachel." The boy blushed.

"Another lesson you got to learn. Just like you can't always do what you want, you can't always have what you want, and that ain't more true than with a woman. Too many, far too many variables involved. Think you ran up against one tonight, yes?"

The boy shook his head and breathed out hard. Sims couldn't help but chuckle and put his arm around the boy's shoulder. A grin came to the boy's face and Sims was proud of him.

"What's wrong with him? Your horse, not the Major General." They both grinned at his inadvertent joke. "You were walking him tonight," the boy explained.

They spent the next thirty minutes talking army horses and weapons, the boy further impressing Sims on both matters, but soon it'd be time for the boy to return to his barracks.

Sims rose from the bench, walked back to the wall, and scooped water into a bucket from a barrel. "Give me your handkerchief." He took the bloodied cloth from Jeddie and wetted it in the bucket.

"Look up at me, boy." Jeddie raised his head. Sims turned the youthful face into the lantern light, put one hand on the back of his neck and cleaned the rest of the dried blood from his mouth and nose. "Can't have the rest of the men wondering how you left the Major General, can you?" The boy smiled up so, well, sweetly. "Stand up." Sims daubed at the blood on his uniform.

"Where's your winter greatcoat?"

"Don't have one, Sergeant. Been savin' my money and thought it might not be so cold and when I went to the Quartermaster there weren't no more."

"Learned another lesson about the cavalry, didn't you?" Sims put his hand on the boys back, turning him. "About time for you to return to barracks, Private Curry."

"Yes, Sergeant." Jeddie walked to the stable door.

"Your cousin, Private Curry." The boy turned back.

"He's proud of you."

The boy stood cavalry straight. "Thank you, Sergeant."

Sims smiled at him. "Good night, Trooper Curry."

He really liked this boy.

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Me and First Sergeant Sims had a talk and I felt better. And when I got to the barracks Frenchie and Schmidty were there. They wondered where I went and heard Major General Wellington tell Miss Rachel she can't see me no more. Miss Rachel cried some and then got back to party hostess so they left Frenchie said.

But then I was called off the fireing range when we C Company was practicing and they all saw. Sergeant Quinn got a message from the CO's office said I was to go see Doctor Matheson. And they all knew why. But I didn't. I didn't understand from Sergeant Quinn or First Sergeant Sims that I had to be examined by the doctor after that night on campaign. I can tell you, Hannie, it was so hard walking across the compound to the hospital but I went.

Doctor Matheson asked me questions about the dreams but you know I don't remember them or much what happened and that's what I told him. He said how often do they come and I had no answer to that, they're not regular they just come. He said are they always so bad and I had to say yes, most always.

I asked him if there is something wrong with me. I said I should know if there is. And he should tell me he's the doctor. He said there's lots of people who been shocked like me, from different wars and different Ruffians and everybody has different ways living with it. I said my cousin has dreams too but he's two years and more older and his dreams don't seem to be like mine. He said that's likely because of my age when it happened to us. And he asked if I missed my cousin and you know I do, Hannie and I told him yes. He said us separated could be part of having the dream too.

And he told me about himself even having a bad shock that affected him the same but as he grew and time went on his dreams are not so bad as before. I asked if that will happen to me, and Hannie I hoped he would say yes but he couldn't. He couldn't.

He said you do understand why the cavalry would be retissent to have this happen again when the cavalry is in the wars with Indians still, even if it's not so much as just a few years ago round here. Hannie, I understand that. But Hannie, it's so hard. I wish you were in La Junta.

So when I was called to Captain Roberton's office there was Sergeant Quinn and First Sergeant Sims. Captain Roberton asked me right off what happened at Major General Wellington's residence. Hannie, I'm in so much trouble.

Well, I told him. I went to Major General Wellington's residence for the Christmas Social that Miss Rachel had for some of us soldiers and her lady friends at the fort, me and Frenchie and Schmidty walked there together. Mrs. Wellington was at the door to see everyone coming in and when I got to her she said I was to go out around back and use the back door, that Major General Wellington wanted to see me there. He came out when I knocked and he said we had to go to the shed to talk private and he put his hand on my shoulder and we went in. He said I can't see his daughter no more. I said we got plans to go to the after-Christmas dance. He said Curry aint my real name and I said I ought to know what my own name is, Major General. He said don't back talk. He said his daughter aint going to be with an orphan especially one who don't even know what breed he is. I said I been a perfect cavalry gentleman and I would never harm Miss Rachel. And he grabbed the front of my uniform and lifted me up against the shed wall and said he don't like mick candle burners and no mick candle burner is going to see his daughter. And he dropped me and the back of his hand hit my nose and lip and they bled. He said this is a private matter between us. He said he was going in the house and he will watch from the window and I should leave then. So I did.

Then Captain Roberton asked when I saw First Sergeant Sims that night and I said in the stables soon after I left Major General Wellington's.

I told them all of this, Hannie, just like I wrote. And then Captain Roberton said dismissed.

So you see Hannie what they're going to do with me? I ain't good enough for the cavalry so they got to ship me out east where the army don't have a need for cavalry and I won't be a danger to them. Or I will get a medical kick out for dreams. One way or other I'm in real trouble.

I can't write anymore. Sergeant Quinn wants to talk to me out back in five minutes.

Your cousin,

Jeddie


Heyes alternated between balled fists and moans reading Jeddie's letter. He held up the papers to the lantern light examining the backs and saw the effect of Jeddie's tears in places. If only he was there in La Junta when all this happened. But he wasn't. He brought up his knees placing his elbows on his thighs, ran his fingers into his hair and moaned.

"Uncle Dan, I'm so sorry."

He tore into the next posted letter, dated weeks later.


Dear Hannie,

Sorry this letter is so late it's been real busy for me and now it's hard to think how to tell you all that's happened. Well, first I want to say -Happy Christmas, Hannie!- I wish we were together for it, we almost always have been. Now for what happened after last letter.

The army decided for now that I will stay at my position. Part of that is because Frenchie said he will be my cavalry cousin and wake me if I dream on patrol. I think there's more soldiers who do this and the army has them in still.

I had a talk with Sergeant Quinn after my last letter. He said if I want and it's my call then I can think of it as a personal matter like the Major General said. And Hannie I think that's the best way. I don't want to make trouble and especially no trouble for Miss Rachel even if I can't see her no more.

And then he said we were to go see First Sergeant Sims at the 10th Cavalry barracks. When we went in, he met us there and we sat down on chairs and talked. They were having their own Christmas social with sweets from their family and drinks with spices and we got to join them. Then he says -Trooper McFadden!- and here comes one of his privates with a greatcoat folded. He got a new one and says he don't need this one he grew out of and I could have it. Hannie, I was so grateful to him! I told him I will come back for it with money and how much did he want. Then Sergeant Quinn said -Laddie, what's the cavalry for if not troopers looking after troopers.- And Trooper McFadden said -Happy Christmas, Trooper Curry!- And they had me try it on and it's too big but not much. I shook Trooper McFadden's hand so much they all laughed! Hannie, it was so warm walking back to the barracks in my new greatcoat!

Captain Roberton had a talk with me in his office. He said he knows how much me and my cousin depend on each other and he said it's possible he could arrange a medical discharge. And I thought about it real hard, Hannie. I decided that I joined up for three years and I will stick out the three years. I don't know what you think of that, it's what I decided to do on my own. I hope your not disappointed in me.

And then Captain Roberton gave me my new rank, Private First Class. Same pay. On account of my commendation for the capture of the renegades.

Captain Roberton has been looking around for another position for me, not because of the dreams so much as he wants me to move up and there's not far to go in Fort Lyon these days with the Indian wars mostly moved on to Kansas and Oklahoma. But he said not in winter, maybe something in spring, soonest. Or even a year. Like First Sergeant Sims said -The cavalry don't do anything in a hurry on the frontier.-

I don't hear from you very much, Hannie and that's probably because you're not so close to a post. I will keep writing to you at Jenny's like we said anyway. I really miss talking to you, Hannie. I hope you had a good Christmas wherever you are. Good-bye for this letter.

Your cousin,

PFC J. Curry
C Company, 7th Cavalry
Fort Lyon, Colorado


lll


Dear Jeddie,

I know my letters don't come very often now, and I'm real sorry for that. But don't think it's because I forgot about you or that I don't care what's going on with you! I think about you all the time and how you're doing. These last letters at Jenny's really got my Irish up, like Ma used to warn me about. That Major General needs to be taken down a few notches and I'd like to be the one to do it! Then I read what you said about it being personal between you and him to protect Miss Rachel. Jeddie, you are a true gentleman. The cavalry is lucky to have you in ranks.

I'm not disappointed that you decided to stay out the three years. In fact it makes me more proud that Private First Class Jedediah Curry of C Company 7th Cavalry is my cousin who I've known all my life and who has been my best friend all my life.

And how could I not be prouder than before of my cousin for his commendation and rising in the ranks!

When you get discharged I'm going to be there! And I want to shake the hand of Quinn and Sims, and Captain Roberton and that Schmidty. You can count on that! And Frenchie most of all! He can ride with you and me any time! The three of us will go visit Jenny when you're discharged. How's that sound?

Please let me know if you transfer. Before you transfer! Not sure how much longer I'll be with Plummer, maybe through summer. Then I'll have to go back to Jenny's and look for something better.

Here's $100 for you. If you transfer east to a city you can get a bank account and I can wire money to you Western Union. It's safer and lots faster than posting through mail.

Good-bye for now, Jeddie. I will get back to Jenny's every chance I get.

Your cousin and best friend,

Hannibal Heyes


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Heyes dreamed he was floating down a long, steel tunnel on a raft, rising and falling over the steel rapids, ducking his head from the over-hanging steel protrusions, smiling with glee as he skillfully piloted it's entirety, the end signaled by the sound of an unnatural "click!"

The tunnel opened onto a valley paradise covered with layer upon layer of diamonds and gems, Abe Lincoln greeting him with greenbacks from a basket that never emptied no matter how much he stuffed into his clothing and dropped haphazardly onto the diamond-encrusted earth. He turned around to see if Jeddie was enjoying the boon as much as he.

Jeddie wasn't there. Jeddie wasn't with him. All he could see was the dark tunnel he'd just traversed, no light at the other end to show him the way back. "Jeddie! JEDDIE!"

He looked back onto the paradise that now shifted like fog, replaced with a barren desert, not a plant, animal, or human in sight in any direction, a hot and dry wind desiccating his skin, his eyes, his lungs. "I can't breathe!"

He instinctively turned to run back to where he'd come, but the tunnel was gone. He spun in a circle, his heart beating loud and fast. Barren, dead desert, that's all he saw in every direction.

Jeddie, help me!

Jeddie, where are you?!

Jeddie, don't come down the tunnel!

"JEDDIEEEEEE!"

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