HANNIBAL THE CANNIBAL
FORT BRIDGER, WYOMING
July 27th
Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry pulled their horses to a slow stop as they surveyed the almost impassable main street of the settlement outside Fort Bridger. Mule and ox drawn wagons were packed so tightly together, that not even a single rider could maneuver between them. It looked like every person with dreams of heading west were congregated in town getting their final provisions before continuing on.
Kid looked at Heyes, "How low are we on supplies? Ya think we can make it…"
Heyes was shaking his head, "Nope. We got no choice. One of us.-."
"One of us?" Kid said sarcastically, as his eyes narrowed. "I think you've already decided which 'one of us'...is goin' to get supplies. And it ain't you."
"I knew you would see it my way Kid." Heyes said with a quick smile, as he reached out kicking up dust as he slapped his partner on the shoulder. "Need to have a blacksmith check Clay's front shoe. Meet back here," he said over his shoulder as he trotted off. "And don't forget my razor," he added.
Kid stared at his partner, shaking his head and grumbling, as he dismounted and tied his horse to the closest hitching post.
Kid pulled his hat off and slapped at the road dust that covered his clothes in a thin fine layer, before placing it back on his head with a sigh. He maneuvered his way through the packed street, making his way to the boardwalk and through the sea of humanity and animals. Although there were multiple mercantiles to choose from, he selected the one which was closest.
The store was a flurry of activity. People were elbow to elbow as they searched for goods. Different languages and accents filled the cramped store from German to Scandinavian to Irish.
Might be a short trip thought Kid judging by the amount of people crowded into the mercantile. By the time it was picked through there would be little left for them. He'd make sure he got what he needed first. He hoped there wasn't a razor left which would serve Heyes right, but then he'd end up using his, and wearing it out in no time. It was a benefit and a curse for being fair haired.
Kid leaned on the doorframe to the entrance of the store, waiting for people to leave so he could enter. He reached into a front pant's pocket and fished out a peppermint. He slowly unwrapped it, pausing as he suddenly felt that he was being watched. Standing in line ahead of him was a young doe-eyed boy gripping his young mother's hand tightly. As he fidgeted, he turned, his eyes first locking onto Kid's holstered gun strapped to his hip, then giggling at the jiggle of his spurs when he moved his feet. Kid returned the little boy's smile, whose attention was now on the red and white candy in his hand.
His mother, noticing her son was focused on something behind her, turned to see what had captured his attention.
She smiled shyly at the handsome cowboy.
Kid touched the brim of his hat, "Ma'am. Would it be okay to give your boy a sweet?
"Ich verstehe nicht."
"Sorry Ma'am…I just speak American," Kid said as he smiled awkwardly and nodded his head. He showed her the single peppermint candy in his hand and pointed to her son. The young boy's eyes lit up, as he looked anxiously at his mother. She looked around quickly, smiled a nervous smile and gave Kid a short nod.
"Danke"
The boy almost squealed with delight when he took the candy. The woman looked around again, before bending forward and urgently whispered something in her son's ear. Disappointment crossed his young face, as he reluctantly pushed the candy deep into his pocket.
While the woman turned her attention back to the crowded store, Kid reached into his front pocket and pulled out a bag of peppermints. The little boy's eyes widened in amazement. Kid pressed a finger to his lips. He slipped the bag into the little boy's hand and motioned for him to tuck it into his pocket.
Kid gave him a wink.
He thought he heard Heyes and turned to scan the street, looking for his partner, but quickly returned his attention to the woman when he heard her cry out.
A handsome blonde haired man with long flowing hair had moved to her side and grabbed her roughly by an arm. He saw her immediately cower, as the young boy pushed behind her and buried his face into her skirt. The man angrily whispered something in the cringing woman's ear. Kid didn't understand the words but he certainly understood the tone. He started to take a step towards the man, when he was stopped by a finger being jabbed hard into his chest. Kid felt a white hot anger burn through his body, as his strong jaw set in rage.
"MY! WIFE! He snapped at Kid as he pointed to himself. He turned his finger as if he was going to jab Kid in the chest again, when a gloved hand shot out and firmly grabbed the man's wrist.
It was Heyes.
He stared at the man with cold dark eyes as he slowly shook his head, refusing to let go as the man struggled to free himself. "I don't know if you understand me but I'm pretty sure…No…I know for a fact, you don't want to be doing that again." Heyes' words were spoken slowly, conveying a definite threat.
The man finally yanked his arm free, "I understand English just fine." He spat the words out. "Geh jetzt!" He snapped, turning his attention back to his wife and child. She immediately obeyed and hurried away. He gave both men a furious look before he followed.
"I can't let you out of my sight for a minute," Heyes tried to joke, shaking his head. "Kid?"
Kid wasn't paying attention, as his eyes followed them away.
The little boy looked back and caught Kid's eyes giving him a helpless look, then disappeared into the crowd.
Kid felt as if he had been gut punched, shaken by the boy's expression. He remembered that look at the orphanage, when frightened blue eyes stared back at him from the mirror. It was the scared look of being trapped without the power to escape.
"Kid?"
He turned his eyes to Heyes when he felt fingers tighten their grip on his arm.
"You okay?" Heyes asked, concerned.
"Fine." Kid said a little too quickly.
"Let's see if we can find a room and get cleaned up. Supplies can wait." Heyes said as he patted his partner's arm.
Kid paused before he gave his partner a quick nod.
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NEXT DAY…
"You gents find everything you need? Apologies If I ain't got what ya looking for…"
"Everything but a razor…," Heyes said interrupting the man as he dropped the items onto the counter, "...but I can always use my partner's"
Kid rolled his eyes, as he put his items down.
"Together or separate?"
"Together is fine."
"That blonde you had words with yesterday…don't think you're anything special." The store owner continued as he carefully calculated their bill. "That's Lewis Keseberg. Ain't a man here that don't want to dust his arrogant ass. Thinks he's better than anyone else, being that he speaks four languages. But book smart don't give you common sense. The dumb son of a bitch 'bout got the whole wagon train killed by stealing the buffalo skins from an Indian burial site." He laid his pencil down and held the bill out. "That will be ten dollars and eleven cents Gents."
Heyes made no move to take the bill as it hovered in the air. Kid finally snatched it away from the man and dug in his front pocket for the money. "If you think your usin' my razor again..." Kid growled..."You're mistaken."
Heyes smiled a knowing smile as he gathered up their purchases.
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Kid pushed his unfinished plate away and wiped a napkin quickly across his mouth. Heyes raised his head briefly, then lowered it and took a final bite before pushing his plate away too. He had just reached for his coffee when Kid said, "I need a drink. Stronger than that." He said with a nod towards Heyes' cup. He grabbed his hat off the table that lay side by side next to Heyes' and quickly stood up. "
"You coming'?"
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The saloons were as crowded as the merchantiles.
Heyes groaned, "Let's go back to the room."
Kid shook his head, "I need a drink." He said firmly and pushed his way inside with Heyes reluctantly following.
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There was no place to sit, when Heyes noticed a man motioning them to his table. Heyes touched Kid's arm and nodded towards the man.
"Do we know him?" Kid asked leaning close to his partner so he could be heard in the loud saloon, as he studied the bearded man dressed in deerskins. He appeared to be in his fifties, although possibly older by his tanned weathered face.
"Don't think so. Guess we'll find out." Heyes said as he made his way towards the table, protecting his drink as he moved through the crowd.
The man waved Heyes and Kid to two open chairs.
"Since we're sharing a table…Name's James…James Clyman." The man was already starting to slur his words.
Heyes hesitated before he said, "Smith. Joshua Smith and my partner Thaddeus Jones." He said with a nod towards his cousin.
A miracle had happened a mere four months ago when one of the many Governors of Wyoming relented and signed their amnesty papers. After an extra three and a half years of waiting they were finally officially honest law abiding citizens with a forgiven lawless past. Heyes still preferred to use their aliases until it was common knowledge through the territory.
"Mr. Clyman…Do we know you?" Heyes asked cautiously as he studied the man's face.
"Nope," the man said as he shook his head. "Never seen you boys 'til now. But I knewed ya ain't immigrants and ya speak American so I don't have to a lot of gruntin', noddin' and pointin'. It makes conversin' a lot easier."
Heyes and Kid laughed, "And what are we conversin' 'bout?" Kid asked.
"For one," he paused to toss back the rest of his drink and slam the glass on the table. "How ignorant them immigrants are. Dumber than a sack of rocks. I've tried to talk to some sense into them for four days. Four days! 'Til I'm all talked out. George Donner wouldn't listen and his equally ignorant brother Jacob. But I thought Reed had more brains. They got their ignorant minds set on going a thousand miles to California with not one mountain man amongst 'em. How many fuckin' mountains are in Illinois? Missour'a? Bunch of rural folk that probably never seen a mountain in their lives. Well they're about to see more fuckin' mountains then they ever could have imagined."
Clyman snatched the bottle and filled his glass.
Heyes and Kid exchanged amused looks. "I think we just found Caroline Rangley's brother." Heyes said under his breath. Kid snorted. They now knew why no one was sitting at the table.
Clyman pushed the bottle towards them. "Help yourselves."
Kid picked the bottle up, and immediately set it back down. It was empty.
"So where are you boys headed? If I might ask."
"Just looking for supplies. Headed for San Francisco to see a friend."
"Ya ain't going the shortcut are ya?" He said with a bitter laugh as he downed his shot.
"Shortcut?" Kid and Heyes exclaimed in unison as they looked at each other, confused.
"What shortcut?" Kid asked.
"That damn shortcut Hastings concocted. I just rode it with him. I could tell that man didn't know what the hell he was doing or where he was going…'bout got us both kilt and we was on horseback not pulling an overloaded wagon with ox. Them fool people think they are goin' cut almost four hundred miles off the trip. Level roads and plenty of grass…my ass! How much grass grows on the eighty miles of hell called the Great Salt Lake Desert? Them oxen are going to starve or die of thirst. Guess folks need to find out the hard way," he said sadly, shaking his head.
Heyes and Kid looked at each other, shocked. They had heard of a man touting a new way west, even writing a book about it, but they had figured it was as true as snake oil curing all what ailed them and folks would immediately see through the lies.
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HOTEL
Heyes turned over on side, with a groan and started to settle back to sleep when he saw his partner standing bare-chested by the open window looking out into the night. Kid held the flimsy curtain lightly in one hand as he silently watched. After several minutes, he let the curtain slip through his fingers and returned to his bed. Heyes had snapped his eyes shut before his partner could see he was awake and watching him. Kid took a seat on the edge, and dropped his head into both hands. With a resigned sigh, he rubbed a hand across his tired face, before stretching out and locking his hands behind his head, tilting his head up to stare at the ceiling.
Heyes wasn't fooling him, pretending he was asleep. Kid could tell by his breathing he was awake.
"Heyes, you ain't snoring so I know you are awake."
With a sigh, Heyes pushed onto an elbow and looked at his partner.
"There's nothing we can do."
Kid didn't turn to acknowledge Heyes as he continued to stare at the ceiling.
"They're going to die, Heyes." He said softly.
"Probably"
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Author's Notes: I've taken great liberties with the timeline, being the Donner- (Reed) Party tragedy happened in 1846 - 1847. James Clyman was a real person as was Lewis Keseberg and Lansford Hastings.