Ravages of War (A Revealing Conversation)

(A lead-in followed by a quiet conversation between partners)

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(The night of Quantrill's Raiders)

It began in the middle of the night with rapid exchanges of gunfire that cracked the quiet stillness. I remember my eyes sprung open, but I didn't move from my bed and despite a fear that consumed me I felt an odd sort of comfort from the familiar shadows that stretched across the walls as the moonlight streamed in from the window.

Then three things happened all at once. The smell of gunpowder filled my nostrils, and my little sister Katie whispered my name as the bedroom door flung open and the tall, silhouetted figure of my father loomed in the doorway.

"Pa?"

"Both of you get dressed and come out here, and don't light a lamp."

"Yes sir."

I jumped from my bed and scrambled into my clothes, then quickly helped Katie dress. She was only six and I could hear her whimpering as she slid her dress over her head. I gave her a shove and she sat down on the edge of the bed as I pulled on her socks and fastened up her shoes. By this time, she was outright crying, and I knew I had to find a way to quiet her. I reached for her ragdoll that was lying next to her pillow and I pushed it gently into her hands.

"Don't forget little Clara," I told her. "I bet she's pretty scared right now and needs her mama to be strong."

Then I stood up and reached for Katie's little hand. Through the window I could still hear the gunfire on the far side of the cornfield and knew the raiders were at the Heyes farm. Dear God, watch over em.

I gave Katie's hand a little squeeze and we walked out of the room and made our way to the front room of the cabin. The moment we walked into the room the gunfire stopped and for a few brief seconds the world was silent… until a jar of canned peaches slipped from my mother's fingers and shattered on the floor.

"Becky, take Katie and get in the crawl space," Pa ordered.

"Seth…"

"Now!"

Ma gathered Katie in her arms, and I quickly shoved the table aside and lifted the small hidden door in the floor and watched as first Ma and then Katie climbed down the ladder. The last thing I saw was a small, flickering light from the candle my Ma lit. Then I shut the door and shoved the table back into place.

A hard, rapid knock on the door made me jump and I ran to the window and picked up one of the rifles Pa had loaded and rested against the wall.

Again, we heard the frantic rapping on the door.

"Open up! It's me, Hannibal. Please, open the door."

I looked at Pa, pleading with him to save my cousin. The instant I saw the nod of his head I darted to the door and lifted the log that bolted the entrance. Hannibal shoved the door open just far enough to slip inside and I quickly bolted the door shut again.

"It's Quantrill and his raiders," Hannibal announced through panting breaths.

"Your folks?" Pa asked.

Hannibal's eyes met Pa's and though no words were spoken, we knew the horrible truth.

"Did you see where they were headed?" Pa asked.

"They split up. Some went north toward the Riley farm. The rest were headed toward town," Hannibal told us.

We all knew that would bring them right past our farm.

I turned away, but as I did, I saw flickering yellow light inside the barn. "Pa! The barn's on fire!"

Seconds later a barrage of bullets battered the cabin and we all ducked away from the windows as Pa shouted at us to get down. The fear that had been coursing through my veins was miraculously replaced by stone cold determination and I held my rifle with the stock pressed against my shoulder and fired in the direction of the onslaught. All the while, the sound of screaming horses and cows filled the air.

The three of us returned fire and I know I saw a man drop before I pulled back away from the window and pressed myself hard against the wall to reload and again return fire. Two shots in rapid succession were fired from my pa's rifle and this was quickly followed by the mortal cry of a second raider piercing the night air. As Pa reloaded, Hannibal fired two shots out the window and into the darkness.

"You boys listen to me because I'm only going to say this once," my father said as he reloaded his rifle. "If at any point I tell you to run, you don't question my words. You high tail it out the back door and make your way to the woods. You understand?"

Hannibal and I just stared at Pa. We couldn't abandon him.

"Hannibal?" Pa said, demanding confirmation.

"Yes sir."

"Jed?"

I found myself nodding. I couldn't go against my father's orders. "Yes sir."

"You make your way to town, and you go straight to the sheriff and tell him what's happened."

"Yes sir," we said in unison.

"And you stay in town until… until me or the sheriff tells you otherwise."

With grave concern I looked towards the hidden door in the floor beneath the kitchen table. "But, what about Ma and Katie?" I asked.

"You boys do as I say," Pa told us. "I'll watch over your ma and sister. Now give me your word that you'll do as I tell you."

"You've got my word, Pa."

"You've got my word," Hannibal said. "And I'll look after Jed."

It was then that I saw a look in my father's eyes that I'd never seen before and couldn't begin to describe. But it's a look I'll never forget, and it sent a chill down my spine. I knew at that moment that my life was never to be the same again. Now, whenever I see my pa's face in my dreams, it's always with that look in his eyes, and it makes my heart hurt."

By the time the sun came up the next morning, Hannibal Heyes and I were orphans.

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(20 years later, on a sweltering night in some small western town))

It was a hot, sultry summer night with no hint of a breeze coming in through the open hotel room window. The only sound from the street was the faint music of a player piano in the saloon a block away from the hotel. Inside the hotel room the air was stuffy and stale.

Finding no reprieve, Kid lay sprawled in his bed having quickly dispensed with the sheet and his Henley, while Heyes, in similar fashion and attire, sat with his back against the headboard reading a book in the light of a low burning lamp. Finishing a chapter, Heyes closed the book and set it on the nightstand, then reached for the wick raiser knob of the lamp.

"You mind if I put out the light?"

"Uh? What? You say something?" Kid asked.

"Sorry, were you asleep? I thought I'd put the light out."

"Fine and no, I can't sleep in this heat. It's like being in the desert."

"You wanna get dressed and go have a drink?"

"They ain't got cold beer so I don't think that would help, and I sure don't wanna put on any more clothes that's just gonna add to my discomfort."

"Can you think of anything that would help?"

Kid sighed. "Except for a cold bath or a block of ice in this bed, I can't think of much of anything at all."

"Well, I guess we should just try to get some sleep."

"Yeah…. I guess."

Heyes began to lower the wick but something in Kid's tone of voice told him the discomfort of the heat wasn't the only thing bothering his partner. It had been no more than a month since they had made their way out of the Sangre Cristo Mountains and tracked down Danny Bilson and Heyes knew killing Bilson had weighed heavily on Kid's mind for some time, but after several shared conversations, Heyes thought Kid had put all that behind him. But, perhaps the sultry heat of the night was acting as a reminder so, he pulled his hand away from the lamp, then shifted his weight in the bed and drew up one knee.

"So, what's on your mind?"

"Uh? Nothin' really."

"Something."

Kid hesitated before speaking. "Alright, I was thinkin' about the last time we went fishing.'

"When we met the Tapscott's and ended up in jail?"

"Yeah, that time but, before the Tapscott's, when we was baitin' our lines and… talkin.'"

"Oh, about why we turned out the way we did?"

"Uh-huh."

"You've come up with some new insight?"

Kid's silence made Heyes realize there was more to Kid's thoughts than that one reflective conversation at an obscure mountain pond.

"Kid, what's really on your mind?"

"I'm not sure where to begin, or even if I should…," Kid replied.

"Maybe talking will take our minds off this miserable heat."

Heyes' suggestion was again met with a long silence.

"There's… things you don't know and well, maybe it's best to keep it that way."

"Recent things? Did something happen tonight?" Heyes asked with a bit of trepidation in his voice.

"No, not tonight. Don't worry Heyes, we're safe enough in this town for the night. I'm talkin' about… things I ain't never told you."

"Secrets will just eat away at the trust we have for each other and if that trust is ever gone, I don't think that would bode well for either one of us."

Kid shifted in his bed to a cooler spot on the mattress. "Thinkin' about that fishin' conversation made me start thinking about Danny Bilson."

"Oh," Heyes replied, assuming his partner was battling a bout of guilt. "Kid, Danny brought that on himself. He called you out and he didn't…."

"Danny wasn't the first," Kid blurted out in a strained voice that silenced his partner mid-sentence.

The muscles in Heyes' cheeks twitched as he realized the dark path Kid was now navigating in his mind.

"I know," he said reassuringly.

Kid jerked his head to look at his partner on the other side of the room. "You know?"

"Kid, I was there, in your house with you and your pa. I know that was your bullet that killed that raider. I saw it happen, remember?"

"Yeah. I remember…. But that's not who I was talkin' about…. There've been others."

This came as a shock to Heyes, and he tried hard to conceal his surprise. "Then who and when?" he asked.

"A man by the name of Tom Buckner, in Amarillo."

Heyes wracked his brain but could not recall any such event. In fact, he and Kid had spent a year in Texas riding with a small and somewhat obscure gang, but not once were they within a hundred miles of Amarillo.

"When were you in Amarillo?"

"That year we split up, but that ain't the point I'm trying to make."

"I'm listening," Heyes replied, not wanting to distract Kid from what he was only now confessing to his partner.

"The point is Heyes, I've killed three men and I guess that qualifies me as a gunslinger and not just a fast draw."

"I take it this was a fair fight?' Heyes asked cautiously.

"I don't know," Kid replied. "Is any fight fair when one man is a fast draw and the other ain't?"

"Was it a fight that you instigated?"

Kid shook his head slowly. "No."

"Then it was a fair fight."

"But I didn't just wound him, Heyes. I kilt him."

Heyes sighed softly as he thought about his words. "In both instances, you had someone equally willing to shoot right back at you and equally willing to kill you if you hadn't killed them first. That doesn't make you a gunslinger."

There was a long pause that only enhanced the stillness broken solely by the mechanical notes of the muted player piano.

"There was one more." Kid said softly.

Heyes closed his eyes, thankful the room was dimly lit, and Kid couldn't see the despondency reflected in his eyes. He knew Kid was always one to carry a darkness inside of himself that seldom came to light, and he knew at this moment it was up to him to sift through the ashen shadows and draw that darkness to the surface.

"Tell me," Heyes replied as he opened his eyes.

"He was just a boy, no more than thirteen or fourteen, but I didn't know that till after it was over…. I was working for room and board at a livery in Cheyenne. I had a room in the back with a cot. One night I heard some rustling noise out in the stalls, and I thought maybe a coon got inside and was makin' the horses nervous. I got up and went out to check and saw the door was open. I called out but got no answer. It was pitch black and I didn't wanna strike a lantern cause whoever was inside would be able to see me before I could see them. All of a sudden one of the horses came bolting through the livery and out the door and I could see there was a rider ducked down low in the saddle. I ran to the door, but he was out and racin' outta town. I fired just as he was pulling himself up and my bullet hit him square in the back and he fell to the ground. The commotion drew some attention and a crowd gathered. I got to him first and that's when I saw he was just a boy. I scooped him up and carried him to the doctor's office, but it was too late."

"You were looking out for the owner's property. You did exactly what you should have done. You shouldn't feel guilty…."

"I don't," Kid replied emphatically. "It ain't guilt that's botherin' me."

"I don't understand," Heyes said, feeling both shocked and confused by Kid's response.

"I'm wonderin' if all this is what's keeping the governor from givin' us the amnesty. Is it my reputation that's keepin' us on the run?"

Heyes opened his mouth to speak but found himself without words. "No," was his only reply.

Kid sighed and shifted again in the bed, so he was sitting with his back against the headboard. "You don't sound convinced, and I know I ain't."

"Most of what you told me happened eleven years ago in Texas. I don't see how any of the Wyoming governors would know anything about that," Heyes said, trying hard to sound convincing.

"Might know about the boy though. That was here in Wyoming."

"Even so, it was so long ago…."

"But it happened in Cheyenne and the governor's office is in Cheyenne. Some people don't forget and it's just possible some of those people are friends of the governor," Kid countered. "I'm just saying Heyes, he's been stringin' us along for a long time and well, maybe it's me that's holding you back."

"If that is the case, and I'm not saying it is, it don't change nothing. We're partners and we're in this together."

"Heyes, if that is the case, it means everything. If it's me that's keeping us from getting the amnesty then I'll withdraw from the amnesty program, and we ain't arguing that fact. I'm not going to be the one to keep you from havin' the life you deserve."

"In that case Kid, I've got a fact for you that we ain't arguing about. Unless, or until you've got proof to back up your theory, we're just gonna let sleeping dogs lie, and we're getting this amnesty together. Agreed?"

A long, silent minute passed before Kid responded. "Agreed."

Heyes smiled. "Besides, I'm not sure the governor sees things the way you do. I don't know if a man with a history of robbing banks and trains deserves an amnesty in the governor's eyes. Like Lom said, we're not exactly what the governor had in mind when he started this amnesty program."

Kid fell silent for a long moment. When he did speak again, his voice was quiet but cold. "Heyes, I've got no regrets about killin' that man back in Kansas. I just think you should know that."

"You've no reason to regret that," Heyes assured him. "You were protecting what belonged to your family."

"Yeah," Kid said softly. "And failed," he added in muted voice of despair.

"Jed, you were ten," Heyes reminded him.

"You think about that night much?" Kid asked without acknowledging his partner's words of absolution.

"Sometimes."

Again, Kid was silent for some time. "If Katie and my folks had left when we did… things might have turned out different. You and me… might have turned out different."

Heyes nodded reflectively but had no comforting words to offer.

"I think that night had a lot to do with how we turned out. I think it was what some folks call a turning point."

"It was," Heyes agreed.

"Before that night, I just always figured I'd be a farmer one day… have a family of my own; just follow in my Pa's footsteps…. But all that changed with a pull of a trigger."

"Yeah," Heyes sighed.

"Maybe I just weren't never cut out for all those things."

"Your own, personal manifest destiny?"

"I don't know what that means. You read that in a book somewhere?"

Heyes smiled knowing that manifest destiny was discussed in every history book across America. "Yeah, in a book somewhere," he replied. "And it pretty much means what you just said. It means some things are just predestined by God to happen."

"Hmm. Like an omen," Kid concluded.

"That might be another word for it."

"And to be honest, I do harbor some guilt about the boy that stole the horse."

"You wouldn't be the man I know today if you didn't."

"The sheriff told me the boy's pa had walked out on them a couple of months before and his ma figured he stole the horse to go lookin' for his pa."

"That doesn't change the fact that he stole a horse or that you had a job to protect the livery," Heyes reminded him.

"If I had known… I likely wouldn't have stopped him."

"And that's exactly why you're not and never will be a gunslinger."

"Not in your eyes anyway, but you're the only one that knows about the guilt."

"Kid, the reason you'll never be a gunslinger is because you're too good a person. You have a conscience, and you don't take death lightly. The very fact that we're sitting here discussing this at all proves you're not a gunslinger."

"You know, I'm glad you were born with that silver tongue, Heyes."

At that moment a low rumble began rolling across the sky

"You hear that? Sounds like thunder," Heyes said.

Outside a flash of lightning streamed across the sky sending bright flickers of light into the night as faint whisps of a breeze gently moved the curtains.

"Maybe some rain's coming and bringing a cooldown with it."

"And a chance to get a little sleep."

The subsequent thunder boomed loudly, announcing its approaching proximity. Heyes turned out the lamp and both men settled down into their beds.

"Kid, I meant what I said. We're partners which means we're in this amnesty thing together to the end. Are you with me on that?"

"I gave you my word, Heyes."

Heyes smiled as he nestled his head into the pillow. "Good night, partner."

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Author's Note: The author accepts the fact that opinions vary as to how many men Kid Curry might have killed and this story is not intended to ignite a debate.