FIVE MINUTES LONGER
Drena
Hills
“A hero is no braver than an
ordinary man, but he is brave five minutes longer.”
-
TEXAS
1884
I didn’t tell Heyes because
I knew it was crazy. I knew he would
tell me it was crazy and I had nothing to offer to explain why it wasn’t. But I knew I had to go all the same.
The
first time I met John Reid I was six if I was a day. He was a friend of my grandpa’s and got invited to supper. He didn’t wear the mask, which would have
impressed me, but he did bring his partner along, a real Indian, which
did. I remember him being a tall, quiet
unassuming man who was very polite to my mother and made a point of leaving his
guns at the door.
Those
guns held my attention through the entire visit, after I tore myself away from
his horse that is. I had never seen a
horse that incredible in my whole life.
I would have spent the whole time in the barn with it if my Pa hadn’t of
dragged me out.
So
I then turned my preoccupation over to his guns, his guns and those bullets. My grandfather told me later he had a silver
mine and that’s where he got the material to make them. It was his partner who gave me a wink and
said perhaps there was a chance I could have one. I liked him immediately, he seemed to remember what it was like
to be six and let me hold his knife until my mother screamed I would lose a
finger.
I
learned they had met as boys, something tragic and sad only to meet again as
adults to something even sadder.
I
didn’t pay much attention to all that at the time, I just wanted to ride his
horse, ride his horse and have one of those bullets.
When
Heyes came by later after they had left and I showed him the silver bullet all
he could go on about was how much we could buy with it. But I swore I would never sell it. The Ranger had given it to me by extracting
a promise that I would keep it to remember to always do the right thing.
And
I did until that day of the raid when I lost it running from the farm.
I
didn’t come to understand that John Reid and his partner were legends until
years later when we were passed over to the School for Waywards.
You
have to understand I was never much of a reader. My idea of fun never involved sitting still. Heyes always could, he could get lost in a
book, but to me unless someone was telling me the story I was hopeless. But one day I got punished and after the
customary beating I was tossed into the cellar to contemplate my misdeeds and
there in the woodpile I found the dime novel.
Trapped
and hurting I remember sniffling as I turned the pages to distract myself. The tale caught me immediately. Texas Rangers, ambushed, all but one
killed. Found by an Indian he had
helped as a child he was nursed back to health and cutting a mask from his dead
brother’s vest he became the Lone Ranger.
My grandfather’s friend and his partner were heroes!
It’s
strange the dime novels have made us heroes, but I never felt like we
were. My grandfather wouldn’t have
called us heroes, neither would have my parents. But this, this was the real thing.
The
white horse, the silver bullets, the entire legend captivated me. I didn’t even hear the call to let me out I
was so absorbed. Managing to sneak it
out, I hid the book for the longest time, just re-reading it and it became sort
of an escape for me, something that was totally mine alone.
Of
course in a dormitory with 12 other boys that didn’t last long and when one of
the older kids found it I watched horrified as it got tossed over my head from
one boy to the other as they read snippets and mocked me reading it.
It
was Heyes who grabbed it back, but I feared that the most. Nobody could tease like Heyes and I cringed
waiting for the worse when we were alone.
But he merely sat down on the step and leafed through it and asked me if
it was any good.
I
said it was and he nodded and handed it back saying he’d have to read it
sometime and from now on just keep it with his stuff and no one would bother
it. (The group had stopped teasing
Heyes about reading when they learned how he could share a story or come up
with a plan from what he read. On any
other boy reading was considered sissy, on Heyes it was respected as power).
After
that Heyes would some how turn up other stories for me about him. I never knew where he got all the things he
read, but he’d just casually toss it down in front of me and sit their grinning
as I devoured the latest installment.
The
truth is when I first began shooting I was still such a child I used to pretend
I was that heroic masked man stopping the bad guys. Rather ironic when you consider I grew up to be one of those bad
guys.
But
boys turn into men and we took our wrong turns until the amnesty and I guess I
hadn’t thought about any of this in twenty years until I saw the newspaper
article.
Our
detective agency was just beginning to take off at that point. We were actually having the luxury of
picking and choosing our cases, but Heyes always scanned the papers looking for
anything that caught his eye just the same.
I had learned now that money was not a problem Heyes required problems
that came with descriptions using words like unsolvable and impossible
attached. And when he wasn’t offered
them he went looking for them, hence the onslaught of papers we received from
around the country daily.
I
don’t know why it caught my eyes. I
don’t usually read the local paper unless Heyes points something out and this
one was from Texas. But the headline
jumped out at me. It was in North
Texas, they even said his name, mentioned his earlier exploits and then added
he was on trial for murder.
I made my decision on the spot and left Heyes a vague note, even vaguer
in when I would return and caught the next train.
Maybe
I just had to see if I had been wrong about my hero all these years. Or maybe I just knew a railroading when I
saw one.
********************************
I reached the ranch two days
later. I had decided to go there first,
not exactly sure why, just felt I might get some answers that town wouldn’t
provide.
It
was a well-kept spread with a woman’s touch, obvious by the flowers and fresh
paint and curtains in the window. I had
read in the paper that he had married after he retired after the war to
ranching and hoped someone would be home to talk to.
I
rode up to the house and dismounted and immediately heard a rifle cock back on
me. I had been traveling for two days
straight and knew I must have looked pretty trail worn and dusty so I didn’t
take offense, especially with what these folks had been through.
I
turned slowly to study the older woman and two boys watching me from behind the
barrel of the weapon.
She
was in her late fifties, but still a beauty, that kind of ageless loveliness
that some women just radiate from within.
She small and dainty, but she held the gun like someone had taught her
well.
Beside
her were two boys just past twelve. One
an Indian, the other with the woman’s coloring. They looked angry and sullen and I could tell there had been a
fight over who got to point the gun at me.
“Ma’am,”
I said tipping my hat and moving slowly.
“State
you business.”
“I’m
looking for the Reid ranch.”
“You
found it.”
“Would
you be Mrs. Reid?”
“I
am.”
I
smiled, “Ma’am from what I’ve been reading you got every right to suspect every
stranger that crosses that gate, but I’m here to see if I can help.”
“And
why would you be wanting to do that?”
“Because
ma’am your husband is sort of a hero of mine.”
The
gun wavered for a moment, she had heard this before, she understood, but times
were such trust did not come easy.
“I
met your husband when I was a boy, he was a friend of my grandfather, up in
Lawrence Kansas it was. He was there
picking up prisoners. When I read about
what happened to him, well it seemed wrong so I came down here to see if maybe
I could help.”
“Ain’t
nobody able to help,” the fair haired boy said.
“They
got hired guns,” the Indian boy added.
“You a hired gun?” he added noting the gun strapped to my hip.
“Nope,
do detective work now, but I am pretty good with this gun. The name is Curry ma’am, Jedediah Curry,
maybe you’ve heard of me?”
She
blinked, she had, hell the whole country had with the amnesty and then that job
for the president.
The
gun lowered. “Your that outlaw that got
pardoned, you saved the President?”
“Well
ma’am me and my partner just sort of helped out a bit.”
“You’re
the fastest gun in the west!” the two boys chorused and for once I was grateful
for the reputation.
“Grandma,
he’s the fastest gun in the west! He can save grandpa!” the fair haired boy
said excited.
The
woman fought back a small smile, “Perhaps you had better come inside Mr. Curry,
heat out here does beat down on a man.
I do ask you leave your gun at the door though, my husband’s rule for my
peace of mind.”
“Yes,
ma’am,” I said unbuckling my gun and stepped onto the porch.
The
ranch house was dark and cool and I paused letting my eyes adjust to the change
in light.
Once
inside Mrs. Reid was instantly the perfect southern hostess finding me a chair
and a glass of cold tea with the same regard she would a visiting preacher.
Glancing
around I noted with interest the many framed newspaper clippings and awards
patch worked along the walls and mantle.
“My
husband does not approve,” she said with a twinkle in her eye as I noted each
one impressed. “He feels it is
bragging, but I think a man deserves a little recognition for his life’s work.”
I
smiled imagining the arguments that must have ensued over the placing of each
item for display.
“The
only thing he ever let me hang willingly were his guns,” she added pointing to
a case on the far wall that was empty.
“He said he was done needing them.”
There
was a catch in her voice and she looked down for a moment to compose herself.
“What
happened ma’am? The paper said he shot
a man in the back.”
“My
grandpa never shot anyone in the back ever!” the fair haired boy shouted
instantly on his feet. “He only ever
drew his gun to disarm!”
“Hush
Tom, the man isn’t accusing him, he’s repeating what he heard.”
“I
don’t believe your grandfather would shoot a man in the back either son that’s
why I’m here,” I said firmly. “Who is
this eye witness, Jefferson?”
She
rolled her eyes angrily, “Landrew Jefferson is the biggest crook in this
county. He owns the territory and wants
the state. As is usual in Texas Mr.
Curry the fight is over water. My
husband realized some farmers were being cheated and he stood up for them. But he did it legally and that bothered Mr.
Jefferson so he felt the need to pull my husband’s influence out of the
equation.”
“So
he framed him?”
“My
grandfather went to help him and they arrested him too, they said he was a
lying Indian.”
“Tonto
came down from Oklahoma when he heard to see if he could help, but they merely
threw him in jail as an accomplice,” the woman said horrified.
“But
surely your husband’s reputation, ma’am he is a legend.”
“He
hasn’t worn that mask in twenty years Mr. Curry, people forget.”
I
followed her glance to the glass case on the wall where the mask was mounted
along with a ranger badge.
“Well
maybe we can make people remember,” I said thoughtfully.
*****************************************
Never
play poker with my partner, Kid Curry.
He is harder to read than granite.
Take that morning. Breakfast typically
normal. Kid eats his and mine, I read
the paper and drain all the coffee and we grunt some understanding of our plans
for the day and then twenty minutes later he’s on a train gone for parts
unknown without shedding a ray of light on the subject.
And
the note? ‘Heyes, something I got to see to in Texas, back in a week or two,
Jed’. Do you know how big Texas
is? Do you know how much trouble a man
can get into there? Especially Kid who
only has to saddle a horse to light the fuse for some calamity or another.
And
did he really expect me to just sit there not knowing? I mean were partners, hell yes he was crazy,
but when hasn’t he ever been? And when
hasn’t he ever been there for me all the times I was?
So
feeling deeply offended and wounded I shouted down the house trying to discover
if anyone knew anything. It wasn’t
until I found the Texas paper in his room that the article had been tore out
and rounded up a fresh copy that it all began to make sense.
Of
course the idea that my cousin would pack his bags and head out of state to
help a man he had met for a couple hours as a child did sound a mite loco, but
not if you knew Jed and his sense of loyalty.
He
had carried the bullet around for years and even under the toughest temptation…and
believe me I was the temptation, he never once wavered. The day he lost it he cried so hard and
would have gone back to search, but the soldiers were hunting us and I dragged
him off for fear of getting caught.
So
even though it was madness I knew Jed would feel obligated. Besides that part about shooting a man in
the back hit me wrong as well. I had
read those dime novels too.
Therefore
only 8 hours behind him I arrived in Lost Cause Texas.
****************************
It
was one of those towns that makes you wonder why you got off the train. Forlorn came to mind and used up. The buildings had the same brittle dryness
as the people and you felt at any moment they would crackle and break under the
shimmering heat and blow away as dust.
I found a room at the hotel and turned down the offer to pay 20 dollars
more for a room with a view of the gallows.
I was looked suspect when I pointed out the trial hadn’t ended yet and
the little clerk sniffed his disapproval until he read my name.
I have to confess I do get a great deal of satisfaction using my own
name at times now that the amnesty has come through. It’s such an instant attention grabber and is almost as much fun
as watching people hear Kid’s.
I used it now because I wanted
answers and I knew Hannibal Heyes would get far more of a welcome in a place
like this than the unknown Joshua Smith.
Especially when I asked where the jail was.
*********************************
“He’s from the direct line from Silver.
We’ve had others, but this one, this one just seemed to be that horse
reincarnated,” Mrs. Reid smiled as I stood in awe staring into the stable stall
at the stallion that pawed the ground as it eyed me suspiciously.
“He looks just like I remember, I mean I remember the original,” I said
softly calling the animal over and rubbings its neck.
“Well if you intend to go through with this you’ll need him. And do you really think it will work?”
“Ma’am the prosecution’s case rests on someone saying your husband, the
Lone Ranger was at the scene and fired a gun.
Well if we give them a second Ranger it might be enough to throw some
suspicion on the case and make everyone calm down and think long enough to let
me sort this out.”
“You realize they will probably shoot at you.”
“Ma’am there has been very little of my life when no one hasn’t been.”
********************************
Silver, as I learned the stallion had been christened in memory of the
original, was not sure of me at first.
But with the two boys help I was able to convince the animal to at least
let me mount him and then held on until we came to an agreement. I don’t believe before or since I have ever
rode an animal as impressive as that one.
It seemed to instinctively know its rider’s wishes and as for speed,
well I could see why Reid had risked an animal with such attention grabbing
coloring, nothing was faster. When it
ran it was as if the wind was left behind.
Pulling on the Ranger’s clothes I saw Mrs. Reid wipe a tear from her eye
and explain she had always hoped to see her son try them on one day. He had died years earlier with his wife in a
smallpox epidemic leaving her and her husband to raise their son. Her son, she explained had always been a bit
leery of his father’s past. And then
she hugged me and said she was grateful some remembered all he had given.
The mask felt strange, but oddly enough it brought me back to memories
of when I had wore one as a child playing at being the Ranger and after a
moment I forgot I had it on it was so well designed.
“Now remember make for the caves after you leave the town. Silver will guide you and I’ll have the
boys meet you there with supplies,” Mrs. Reid said and for the first time her
eyes looked hopeful.
“Don’t worry ma’am, I’ll give them a performance they won’t soon
forget!”
******************************
“John Reid?” I asked entering the jail and having the sheriff ask for my
autograph on my wanted poster. Oh this
was a fine town where the criminals were celebrities and the rangers were in
the jail.
The two men in the cell rose together.
They were both in their sixties, though the Indian did not show it as
much, his hair still black as a crow’s wing.
Both were tall and not bent by age or fear and met my eyes with
curiosity, but not overt interest.
Oddly enough the though that occurred to me despite the differences in
appearances was how much they both reminded me of Kid and I.
They were partners, friends, the looks that assessed me and passed
opinions without a word being spoken. I
understood these men and I respected them.
“Sheriff says son your Hannibal Heyes,,”
Reid said quietly.
I nodded, “Yes sir, you knew my grandfather.”
“Shawn Curry was a good man,” Reid said and I instantly felt about 5 as
he didn’t finish the thought about what he would think about having two
grandsons known to be the most famous outlaws in the west.
“Yes sir. I was wondering if my
cousin had been by? He left me a note
that he was coming down here to see if he could help.”
The two men looked at each other without movement.
“People find it wise not to know us, you are the only visitor we have
had,” Tonto said quietly.
“Yea I noticed that, I think they let me in suspecting I wanted some
kind of outlaw revenge at seeing you behind bars. We might be able to use that,” I added thoughtfully.
“Use it?” Reid asked suspicious.
“To get you out of here.”
“And why would you want to do that?”
I smiled, “To prove to my grandfather I found my way back to something
he would be proud of.”
*******************************
I walked across with them to the trial.
It was in its final stages and from what I could see nothing more than
window dressing for the vulture press eager to see the downfall of a legend.
Devoid of a court house the trial was taking place in the saloon, which
reluctantly closed to drinking for four hours each afternoon. Taking a seat in the back and only getting
that because rumor had gotten around as to who I was and one was hastily
cleared for me. I sat back with
interest to try and make sense of a frame that didn’t seem to have any.
I had done some reading up on the town and its water troubles and while
Reid had caused problems it scarce seemed enough to cause the work and effort
of framing him for murder.
What was even stranger is the man he was to have met was a stranger in
town and had even arranged the meeting.
Something was missing and I could not put a finger on what.
It was about this time he came through the door. I’m not sure what startled everyone more,
the hi ho silver and the way the massive white horse reared up and sent
everyone scattering for cover or the six bullets he fired shooting the six gun
belts off the sheriff and his men.
Then swinging a lasso he caught Jefferson, who had been about to take
the stand, by the waist and proceeded to drag him outside into the street.
“Maybe you better take another look at the man you think you saw
Jefferson!” the voice boomed. “Or next
time this rope will catch you around the neck.”
Then releasing the rope, the reared the animal one more time and rode
out of town.
The whole thing had taken seconds and impressed everyone no end. Both guns and flash photographers fired
after him, but everyone agreed the phantom was far too fast to let such human
things touch him. Everyone but me, I
found the blood trail half an hour out of town.
******************************
“It’s only a scratch ma’am, just nicked
me really,” Kid argued with the distraught woman as she fussed over him in the
depth of the cave hidden in the rocks.
“I never should have let you go, you could have been killed, John is
going to be so angry,” she said binding his upper arm.
“Oh he’s not the one he ought to be worried about,” I said from the
entrance to the cave where I stood with the two boys glaring murderously.
“Heyes!” Kid said standing quickly and regretting it. “How did you get in…”
“I told them I was your Tonto,” I growled reaching him. “Here sit down before you fall down,” I said
gruffly helping him back to his seat and taking a look at the arm. I had seen worse, but then again I had
planned never to see my cousin’s blood again and he knew that.
“Are you really Hannibal Heyes?” Tom asked eagerly.
“Who else would track half way across the country after his fool
partner,” I said taking over from the woman.
“How’d you find me?” Kid asked sheepishly.
“Well if you mean from town I was in the court when you made your daring
entrance. Where did you learn to be so
flamboyant?”
“Geez Heyes I don’t know where I picked it up,” Kid replied dryly. “And quit fussing I’m fine.”
“Don’t worry he’s always cranky when nearly gets himself killed,” I
smiled at the woman. “Hannibal Heyes,
you must be Mrs. Reid?”
“Yes sir,” she said a bit in shock at
my presence.
“I saw your husband, he’s fine and despite the insanity of what my
partner did, I think it worked. The
press is filing stories at this moment saying Jefferson might have been mistaken
and a new Lone Ranger lives. Shooting
all their gun belts off, did it ever occur to you that left you unarmed?”
Kid smiled, “Impressed ‘em didn’t it?”
“Yea until someone starts thinking maybe only one gunman in the country
can shoot that good!”
“We’ll leave you two to talk,” Mrs. Reid said amused by something and
pushing the two boys off.
“You could have told me,” I said running a hand through my hair
exasperated.
“What that I was going to help a
man I had met when I was five?”
“Okay I would have called you crazy but I would have come.”
“Didn’t have a right to make you.”
I let out a long breath disgusted, “Right to make me? Kid when did this partnership get that
complicated?”
“Heyes were free now, I got no right to drag you into something that
could make you lose all you’ve worked for.”
“We’ve worked for you idiot, did it ever occur to you I might want to
help as well, I read those dime novels too!
Besides your gonna get yourself killed, your gonna do it with me
remember that.:”
Okay that sounded stupid even to me and it didn’t help when Kid grinned
that annoying way he does when he’s got me to admit something he thinks is
important, but really isn’t.
“So how do we get them off?”
I considered this, “Well you got me the delay, I think I’ll start by
reading some dime novels…”
***********************************
Heyes is like that. He’s a
genius, but it drives you crazy until he explains it to you.
And that is exactly what he did.
We went back to the Reid farm and he was up to dawn reading dime
novels. By the time he was done he knew
the Ranger legend better than his wife did.
The next step involved him pacing and
drinking coffee. I knew this routine
and cleaned my gun and got some sleep.
We had robbed a lot of banks this way and I knew I was no use to him
until he was happy with whatever was cooking inside his head.
Just before dawn he woke me and told me to
get saddled up.
He knew.
******************************
As was normal for Heyes when he is feeling smug and clever he let me get
almost all the way to town before he told me what he had in mind. I would get annoyed with him, but he is so
damn brilliant some times you just have to forgive him when he finally
explains.
He said it had been the illustrations in the dime novels that had
convinced him.
Reaching the jail I paused as Heyes moved to hurry inside.
“Uh maybe I better wait out here.”
Heyes stared at me, “We have to talk to him, besides don’t you want to
meet him?”
“Heyes I took his horse and his identity yesterday, no.”
“Will you stop acting like a little kid, you did it to save his life.”
“What if he doesn’t see it that way?”
“Will you please tell me what is
really going on here?” Heyes hissed.
I looked at the ground feeling 7, “I lost the bullet he gave me.” I didn’t add the faith he had put in me as
well, I felt bad enough as it was.
I waited for Heyes to explode, but
to my surprise he nodded, “Okay then do me a favor, check the church rolls for
births, say forty years ago, this name.”
I stared at the scrap of paper, “Cavendish? Heyes Cavendish was the man whose gang ambushed Reid and killed
his brother.”
“I know and if the wanted poster in that dime novel of Butch Cavendish
is real then I think he had a son, a son who didn’t want anyone to know that…”
*****************************
“Yes I noticed the resemblance,” Reid said quietly. “But my work was against his father, not the
son. That ended years ago.”
“Maybe his son didn’t feel the same way,” I said quietly. “Besides from what I hear a lot of Cavendish
loot never was recovered. Might be how
Jefferson is making his land acquisitions.”
“And you think he set this man up so it would not come out?” Tonto
asked.
“I think the man who died was coming
to tell Mr. Reid just what I’ve told you.
I thought his name sounded familiar and when I checked I realized I was
right.” I pulled out a worn torn dime
novel. “Henry Jones wrote most of the
stories about you.”
“And Henry Jones was the man killed….” Reid said nodding. “Jefferson killed him before he could talk
to me and then blamed him to get me out of the way.”
“Come on I think we have a judge we need to explain a few things too,” I
said firmly.
********************************
I had just left the church and was almost running so excited was I to
tell Heyes what I had learned. The
Cavendish’s had indeed come from this part of Texas and a son had been
registered to Butch Cavendish, but that was the last anyone had ever heard of
him. His mother it was said had changed
her name and left the area.
I was almost to the court house when I saw Heyes, Reid, Tonto and the
sheriff walking across the street to the saloon. Both men had been un-cuffed and I grinned realizing Heyes silver
tongue had made the sheriff begin to see something was very wrong, enough to
allow the men to walk unbound to see the judge.
“Oh no Reid not this time!” came the yell.
Heyes moved first leaping in front of Reid and getting off a shot that
easily saved the man’s life and forced Jefferson and his men to dive for
cover. I started running gun drawn and
caught the man on the roof of the saloon bearing down on them with a rifle.
I had counted six but with Heyes and the others in the open I didn’t
know how much good I could do being so far back. But I charged anyway trying to give them enough cover to move.
Heyes was yelling for them to do the same and took out another man
hiding in the alley, but then suddenly winced and dropped to one knee and I
knew he had been hit.
It was all I needed to reach him in seconds and pushing him down I
grabbed his gun and emptied it into two men.
The last two suddenly came from out of nowhere and I knew while I might
get one, the angle made it impossible to get the other.
But I never fired. The knife
took the first one down silently. The
second fell with a scream holding his arm in a shot I would have found tricky
to make and I whirled to see Reid holding Jefferson’s gun.
For a moment time just fell away and I saw the two men as they had been
thirty years past. Courageous and as
always at each other’s back.
“Will you quit fussing it just nicked me,” Heyes swore as I dropped down
beside him.
“Oh good for a minute there I thought all this blood might be a
problem,” I glared at him.
He smiled back up at me as I leaned him against me, the same as I had
too many times before.
“Heyes these nicks are gonna kill us one of these days.”
“Ain’t the nicks Kid it’s the landing after.”
**********************************
It really was a nick, just a crease, Kid just fusses like an old woman sometime. And I could have walked back, but I was just resting for a minute. I don’t remember a whole lot after that. I tend to fade out when I’ve done all the thinking that needs to be done. But I did wake up in a nice clean twin bed next to my partner the next morning and realized we were at the Reid ranch.
“How you feeling?” Kid asked from the other bed.
“It was only a nick.”
“I know Heyes you convinced us and the doctor, so how does the nick
feel.”
I
flexed my arm surprised, “Good actually.”
“Thank Tonto, he’s got something that they should bottle, really takes
the sting out.”
“So I guess we were right?”
“You mean you were, nice idea tipping off the reporters so they go ask
Jefferson about it.”
I
sighed, “Well I was hoping it would make him try and run, not kill us in the
middle of main street.”
“John says Cavendish’s tend to settle problems that way.”
“John huh? So you two are
speaking?”
“Did you see him get off that shot?
He saved both our lives and Tonto with that knife…I tell you Heyes they
are the real legends.”
I grinned remembering my cousin’s arrival down the street, “Yea you’ll
never come close partner.”
“And look!” he said missing my sarcasm and opening his hand in such a
manner I felt 8 all over again.
It was a silver bullet.
Somehow I got the feeling this one he would hang on to.