One Big Score

By Anita Sanchez

         Not many eating establishments served breakfast in a town this size, and the saloon was crowded as Heyes and Kid walked in.  Business was brisk for this early hour of the morning, with almost all the tables filled with customers enjoying steak and eggs for breakfast.  Kid headed for the first table he saw, near the door, but Heyes shook his head slightly and indicated a table off to the side. Kid rolled his eyes at Heyes’ caution, but followed him to the side table.  Heyes didn’t like to have his back to a door. 

They sat down, and ordered eggs and coffee when the waiter came bustling up.   “Anything else, boys?” asked the waiter. “We got some good steaks, two bits.” Kid glanced at Heyes, but Heyes shook his head again, and sighed.  Their finances were at low water, and didn’t run to steak for breakfast.  “No, thanks,” said Kid dismally, and the waiter left.

“Cheer up, Kid, things have to improve sometime,” said Heyes, leaning back in his chair, and looking over at the sizzling steaks that the men at a nearby table were starting on.  “There’s gotta be a job out there somewhere for two honest and hard-working young men.”

“Cattle-driving,” said Kid moodily.  They waited in silence, but the eggs weren’t long in coming, and they picked up their forks and dug in hungrily.

“Pretty awful,” Kid growled.  “You’d think it’d be hard to ruin fried eggs.”

“Why don’t you complain to the chef?” suggested Heyes.

“I’m tired of eating grub that tastes like it came off a chuckwagon, that’s all,” said Kid. 

“Well, I know, I know,” said Heyes.  “We’re overdue for a good meal. At least the coffee’s hot,” he added, as he poured another cup. 

The restaurant was noisy, the babble of voices and clatter of dishes all around them.  Heyes was raising his coffee cup to his mouth when suddenly a hand slapped down on his shoulder.  He choked, spilling coffee on the table.  A low voice growled in his ear. “Okay, you’re under arrest, pal.  Keep your hands in the air.” 

Heyes raised his hands slowly, heart pounding, every muscle tense.  His eyes darted around the room-- no nearby windows, a dozen people between him and the door.  He turned his head to glance at the Kid, hoping he wouldn’t just start shooting before they’d had a chance to figure what the best escape route was.  But too late.  Kid had leaped to his feet, and was grabbing at the stranger who had come up behind them.  Heyes reached for his gun, then stopped as he realized the stranger’s hands were empty.  So were Kid’s.  Kid flung himself on the stranger but far from fighting with him, threw his arms around him in a bear hug.

“Katy!” Kid yelled. 

“Jed, you young varmint, how are you?”

         Heyes let out the breath he’d been holding since the hand had clapped down on his shoulder.  He picked up the chair Kid had knocked over when he leaped up, and resisted the temptation to clunk the stranger over the head with it. There was nothing Heyes hated more than surprises.

“Katy, you devil, you scared us to death,” said Kid, shaking the intruder by the shoulders.  “Did you think it was a sheriff, too, Joshua?” he asked Heyes. 

“I did, as a matter of fact,” said Heyes, smiling pleasantly.  “You ought to watch that sense of humor, friend, it could get you in trouble some day.” 

“Oh, not with the Kid here, I taught him everything he knows,” said the stranger, ruffling Kid’s hair.

“Well, that’s not saying much,” said Kid, laughing.  “This is Catesby Ashford, Joshua, I’ve told you about him, the guy who helped me bust out of the orphanage when I was ten years old.”

Heyes looked the stranger over curiously. He was a heavy, middle-aged man, with grey streaks in his black beard and wild unkempt hair. Kid smiled at the older man affectionately.  “I haven’t seen you forever, Katy, it must be ten years.  You haven’t changed a bit, you always did have a crazy sense of humor.  This is my friend, Joshua Smith,” he added.  Heyes nodded a hello, and they all sat down at the table. 

“Oh, I know who he is,” said Catesby, surveying Heyes.  “I read the papers.  You guys are pretty famous, you know.  Haven’t heard much about you lately, though. Kind of going through a dry spell, huh?”

“No, actually we’ve given up trying to get famous,” said Kid.  “We’re just trying to stay out of trouble and make an honest living.”

“Oh, come on, you can admit it, said Catesby, pouring himself a cup of coffee.  “Can’t be successful all the time, happens to the best of us.  Even I’ve hit a few rough spots lately.”

“Hard times all around,” remarked Heyes, mopping up spilled coffee with his napkin.

“Want some breakfast?” asked Kid. “The food here is pretty lousy, but you’re welcome.”

“No, thanks, so you guys haven’t pulled any jobs in a spell, eh?  Or have you done some low-profile kind of stuff and just kept it quiet?” 

“Not so loud, friend,” said Heyes glancing around the room.

“Oh, relax, no one can hear us.  You’re the nervous type, huh?” said Catesby, leaning back in his chair.

“That’s right,” said Heyes.  “It’s a good habit, I find.”

         “Cattle drive! Are you kidding? Breathing dust for a month, chuckwagon food, and sleeping on the ground for fifty cents a day?  You’re the one with the sense of humor, “ said Catesby, chuckling. “Come on, Kid, let me in on it. There’s at least three banks in this town, you got your eye on one?”

“No, nothing like that,” Kid said, finishing his eggs.  “Joshua’s right, we’re just looking for honest work.” 

“Sure,” said Catesby, smiling broadly.  “I’d be willing to give you boys a hand, you know, especially if you’ve been having some hard times lately.  I know Heyes here is supposed to be some big brain, but I guess anyone can run out of ideas after a while.”

“That’s Smith,” said Heyes, smiling politely.  “Joshua to my friends.”

“Well, we should probably be going,” said Kid hastily, getting to his feet with a look at Heyes.  “But tell you what, Katy, meet us for dinner–there’s a saloon across the way that looks pretty good.  We’re not too flush right now, but we could afford a steak or two.”

“Going to check on that job, eh?  Okay, I won’t keep you.  See you for dinner.  Have fun, boys.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Heyes as they turned to go.

Catesby grinned up at him and tipped his hat.  “Pleasure’s all mine.”

It was dusk when they walked into the saloon, tired and covered with dust.  Catesby was waiting for them at a table near the bar.  “How’s it going, boys, any luck?” he asked as they walked up.

“Nope,” said Kid, sinking down in a chair.  “They had all the hands they needed.  Took three hours to ride out there, three minutes to get turned down, and three hours back again.  There’s got to be an easier way to make a living.”

“There is,” said Catesby, grinning as usual. “Come on, quit pulling my leg. One big score, that’s all I need, and then I’ll retire.  You looking at the Mercantile Bank? It’s right on the edge of town, easy getaway. Or maybe a train, there’s a line right through here that has a mine payroll...”

“Catesby, you just don’t get it,” said Heyes.  “We’re retiring. We’ve gone straight.” 

“Oh, come on, gone straight?  Tell that to the sheriff next time you run into one,” snorted Catesby.  “Gone straight, my eye.  There must be a huge reward out on you boys, two, three thousand dollars.”

“Ten, actually,” Heyes corrected.  “Not meaning to brag or anything. Ten apiece, “ he added. 

“Really?” said Catesby, eyebrows raised.  He paused.  “Well, that’s what I mean. What’s the point of going straight when every sheriff and bounty hunter in the country’s the lookout for you?” 

“Katy, we’re trying for an amnesty,”said Kid, leaning forward.  Heyes shot him a warning look, but Kid continued.  “The governor of Wyoming has promised us an amnesty if we just stay out of trouble for a few months.”

Catesby stared at him, then threw back his head and laughed.  “You’re crazy.  You have no more chance of getting an amnesty than you do of flying to the moon. Come on, Jed. Be realistic. One big score, and then we can all go straight.  Come on, help me out.  I helped you often enough.”

“Sorry,” Heyes cut in before Kid could answer. “We’re out of that line of work, and that’s final.”

“You’re supposed to be so smart,” Catesby said, with a broad grin. “Don’t you realize that amnesty’s just a dream?  It’ll never happen.  The governor would never dare to do it.  And sooner or later someone’s going to recognize you boys, shoot you in the back, take your dead bodies into the sheriff and claim the reward. You have no hope of ever getting in the clear, after all you done.”

Heyes stood up, pushed his chair neatly under the table and turned to face Catesby.  “Well, that’s an interesting point of view,” he said. 

“You think I’m wrong?” asked Catesby, looking up at him.

“Actually, no,” said Heyes.  “It doesn’t affect the outcome of this discussion, but I think you’re probably right.”  He nodded to both of them, smiling blandly, then walked out of the saloon.

         Once outside he paused in the empty street to take deep breaths and unclench his fists. 

 He walked across the main street of the town, heading towards the dismal hotel where he and Kid had a room.  He took the shortcut, down a narrow alleyway between two tall brick buildings.

All the way to the hotel he was angry with Catesby, with Kid, with himself for letting a blowhard like Catesby get to him. He strode along, muttering a few of the things he would have liked to have said to Catesby, surprised at the force of the anger he felt pounding in his head.  He had no idea, really, exactly what he was so angry about.

He stamped upstairs to the hotel room, and slammed the door behind him with unnecessary force, then locked it.  Sitting down on the sagging mattress, he looked around the bleak little room–bare floor, bare walls, one narrow window with no curtains.  He flung his hat in a corner, pulled off his boots and flung them, one by one, into the corner as well.

Restless, he paced up and down the room a few times, but it was so small that there was no room for really satisfactory pacing.  Finally he flopped down on the bed, giving the pillows a vicious punch or two.  He laid back, put his hands behind his head, and stared at the blank wall opposite.

He was still there an hour later, still staring at the wall, when Kid knocked on the door.  Heyes recognized the familiar knock, and sighed.  He knew exactly what kind of argument was coming–they didn’t even need to go through the words. He got up, unlocked the door, then laid back down on the bed, pulling the blanket over his head and closing his eyes.  He hoped Kid would just blow out the lamp and turn in. But Kid sat down on the chair next to the bed, and Heyes waited for the inevitable.

“I told him I’d help him, you know,” said Kid finally. “I owe him that.  Just one score, then he can settle down and we’ll never see him again.” 

Heyes rolled over and stared at the ceiling.  “It’s the end of any possibility of the amnesty, you know that.  We’ll be recognized, especially if you get involved in any shooting.  The word’ll get out, it always does, and Lom’ll hear about it, and that’s the end of that.”

“You’re not gonna be recognized because you’re not gonna be there,” said Kid.  “This is nothing to do with you.”

“It’s nothing to do with you, either, “ Heyes shouted.  “You haven’t seen the guy in ten years...”

“He’s broke, busted, doesn’t have a dime,” Kid broke in.  “ And he’s getting old.  He was good to me when I was a kid.  Kept me from starving to death for two years, let me tag along, treated me good.  He hooked me up with my first gang, taught me the fast draw... I really owe him. I gotta pay him back.”

Heyes sighed.  He knew that stubborn note.  “All right,” he said. “Let’s sleep on it, we don’t have to decide tonight.” 

“It’s decided,” said Kid.  “I’ll stay here, you go see Lom or someone, set up an alibi so you won’t be connected with it if I do get recognized...”

“Oh, fine,” said Heyes.  “I’ll just ride on out in the morning, be sure and send me a note if you get caught.”

“Heyes...”

Heyes sat up.  “Look, we either do it together or not at all.  This Catesby guy...” He was interrupted by a knock at the door.

They looked at each other.  It seemed late for callers.  Kid leaned back in the chair and put his hand on his gun. “What?” Heyes called.

“It’s Katy, Jed, open up, huh?”

Kid got up and unlocked the door, avoiding Heyes’ eye.  Catesby stood in the doorway.

“Sorry to bother you, boys, but I got to thinking...” he broke off, looking awkward.  “I got to thinking...maybe you’re right.” 

He came in and closed the door behind him. “There probably ain’t much future in the bank robbing business.  Maybe you boys are smart to retire. And maybe I shouldn’t push you into doing something you don’t want to do, Jed, I can handle it on my own.”

“Now wait a minute, Katy,” said Kid, “I told you I’d help.”

“Well, let’s think about it,” said Katy, sitting down on the only chair. “We don’t have to decide tonight.”  He looked over at Heyes.  “You’re not in favor of a bank job, I take it?”

“That’s right,” said Heyes.

“Well, you could be right, I don’t know. Planning was never my strong suit.  Anyway, we kind of got off on the wrong foot, you and me, and I’m sorry about that.  I got a big mouth, Jed knows that, but I don’t mean everything I say.”  He stood up and slapped Kid on the back.  “You been hanging out with my pal Jed here for a long time,” he said to Heyes, “so you can’t be all bad.  What do you say, no hard feelings?”

He held out his hand.  Heyes glanced at Kid, then got off the bed and took Catesby’s outstretched hand.  “Sure,” he said with a smile. “No hard feelings.”

“Good,” said Catesby.  “I tell you boys what, come on back down to the saloon, let’s have a drink, the hell with dinner.” 

“No, thanks, I’m about ready to turn in,” said Heyes.

“Oh come on, one drink, no hard feelings, eh?  What do you say, Jed?”

“Sure, I’ll have a drink,” said Kid, putting his arm around Catesby’s shoulder.  “Come on, Heyes.”

“Oh, all right,” Heyes retrieved his hat and boots from the corner.

“Yeah, come on,”said Catesby. “One drink.  Then we’ll talk about this whole retirement idea.”

          The saloon was jumping when they walked back in.  The bar, decorated with a huge mirror and potted palms at either end, was doing a roaring trade, and several attractive young ladies were lounging nearby, plainly looking for company.  A poker game was going on, a blackjack table was set up, and altogether it looked like an inviting place to spend a lively evening. But somehow Heyes didn’t feel in the mood.  He ordered a whiskey, and leaned on the bar sipping it slowly. 

Kid was apparently in the mood to make a big night of it.  Catesby ordered doubles for them both, and then another set of doubles.  Soon Kid was deep in conversation with two of the young ladies, while Catesby ordered more drinks for everyone.

Heyes decided he wasn’t in the mood for joviality.  He spun out his drink, and played a few hands of poker, but his heart wasn’t in it, and he didn’t win more than ten dollars.  Kid and Catesby were leading the girls in a chorus of a song, and looked good to last till sun-up, when Heyes finally left the saloon.

He stood outside the door for a while, listening to the music and chatter within.  The streets were deserted; only a few windows had lights in them.  He decided to head back to the hotel and bed.

Maybe if he slept on it he could solve the insoluble problem of how to keep Kid from joining in whatever hare-brained scheme Catesby had going.

He waled along with his head down, deep in thought.  He was halfway down the alley that led to the hotel when he was startled to hear a voice behind him. “Okay, you’re under arrest, pal.  Keep your hands in the air.” 

Heyes was seriously annoyed.  Enough was enough. God damn drunk, he thought.  “Knock it off, or I’ll flatten you, you...” he said as he started to turn, then stiffened as he felt a gun stuck into his ribs.  In the silence of the deserted alley he plainly heard the hammer drawn back.  He raised his hands. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Catesby?” he asked.  “This isn’t funny anymore.” 

“Well, I wasn’t really trying to be funny, Heyes,” said Catesby.  “I don’t really have much of a sense of humor, believe it or not.  Let’s go see the sheriff.”

There was no trace of drunkenness in Catesby’s voice.  Heyes cursed himself for not seeing the trap sooner.  “One big score, eh, Catesby?”

“That’s right,” said Catesby, with a friendly chuckle. “No, don’t turn around.  Soon as I heard how much of a reward there was on your head, I realized there was an easier way to make a living.  There’s more ways than robbing a bank to get rich.”

“You’re going to turn me in for the reward, just like that?”

“Yep.  You were sure easy to sneak up on, too, thought you were so cautious all the time. Kind of got your head in the clouds, huh?  I always told Jed, let your guard down once, that’s it, boy.”

“Wait a minute, let’s talk about this,” Heyes tried.

“Nothing to talk about, friend. One big score, then I’ll retire.  And you will, too, pal.  You were anxious to retire, weren’t you?”  He gave Heyes a shove.  “Let’s go.”

Hands in the air, Heyes walked down the alley as slowly as he dared, his mind racing.  “Don’t try anything, Heyes,” Catesby recommended.  “I can see you’re thinking hard, but that reward is payable dead or alive, you know.  Don’t make no difference to me which it is.”

“Makes a difference to me, though,” said a voice behind them.  They both spun around.  Heyes grinned as he saw Kid, obviously sober, leaning against a wall with his arms folded.  Catesby quickly backed up so that he could keep his eyes on both of them.

 “Kid!” said Catesby, a shade uneasily.  “I thought you were still partying...”

“You thought I was dead drunk, and safely out of the way,” Kid answered, shaking his head.  “But, you know, I just got to thinking you seemed a little too eager for me to have those last three or four drinks, you just kept pushing them on me.  I’m afraid I wasted them by pouring them in one of those nice potted plants they got near the bar.”

“Well, you’re awful suspicious, said Catesby, grinning.

“Well, as I recall, it was you taught me that,” said Kid, smiling. “Come on, Catesby, you’ve got to be kidding.  Put the gun away.”

“Like I told Heyes, I really don’t have much of a sense of humor,” said Catesby. “Not where ten thousand dollars is concerned.  But for old time’s sake I’m gonna pretend that you were never here.  Go on back to the saloon.”

“Oh, come on, you can’t think I’m just gonna walk away,” said Kid.  “You don’t have to do this. I told you, I’ll help with a bank job, a train job, anything you want.” 

Catesby kept his gun pointed at Heyes, who prudently kept his hands in the air. “Thanks, but no thanks, Kid.  This is just so much easier, not to mention safer.  Just a few yards to the sheriff’s office and I’m a wealthy man.  Now get outta the way before I yield to the temptation to become twice as wealthy.”

“Knock it off,” said Kid, walking over to Catesby.  “Let’s you and me go back to the saloon and really get drunk.  There’s at least three banks in this town, we could decide...”

“Back off, Kid,” said Catesby.  “I ‘m warning you.”  He leveled his gun at Kid’s chest, eyes narrowed.

Kid took another step towards him.  “Forget it, pal, you know you’re not gonna shoot me.”

“Kid,” warned Heyes, his smile fading. “Don’t push it.”

“Back off, I said,” Catesby repeated, backing up a step.

Kid shook his head and walked towards Cateby.  Catesby raised the gun, and the hammer rose as his finger tightened on the trigger. 

Heyes looked from one to the other. There wasn’t time to think of a plan, talk things over. There was just no doubt in his mind that in one more second Catesby was going to pull that trigger. In desperation Heyes made a lunge at Catesby, who saw him coming, and swung the gun back towards Heyes, pointing it right at his face. There was a sound like a double clap of thunder, one shot coming just a split second behind the other one. Heyes crashed into Catesby, and the two of them hit the ground hard. 

Heyes rolled free, and lay still for few seconds.  The noise of the shots was still reverberating in his head.  He picked himself up slowly, somewhat surprised to find himself in one piece.  Nothing seemed to hurt anywhere.  He blinked the dust out of his eyes and looked around.  Catesby was lying on his back, his gun in the dirt.  Kid was standing motionless, staring down at him.

 “Oh, no,” said Heyes.  He bent over Catesby.  Even in the dim light of the alley he could see the neat bullet hole in the center of his chest.  The man was plainly dead.  Heyes stood up. 

“He’s dead,” said Kid, his voice flat.

“I’m afraid so,” said Heyes. 

“He’s dead,” Kid said again. “I had to stop him.  I had to shoot first.” 

He took a step forward toward Catesby’s body.  Heyes heard shouts coming from the far end of the alley.  “Oh-oh,” he said. “That’s torn it. Someone heard the shots, let’s go.”

“Wait a minute,” said Kid, kneeling down next to the body.

“We haven’t got a minute,” said Heyes, grabbing his arm.  “Come on, you can’t do anything here.” 

Kid flung Heyes off.  “Leave me alone, willya?”

“Kid...” Heyes began.

“Leave me alone!  What’d you have to do that for?  He wasn’t going to shoot me!  Just get out of here!”

“Come on!” said Heyes. “Don’t be an idiot, for Christ’s sake, do you want to hang for murder?”

“I murdered him,” said Kid, looking down at the body.

“No, you didn’t,” said Heyes urgently, “But you’ll hang for it anyway.  Nobody’s going to believe the word of two bank robbers.  What are you gonna say: ‘He was turning us in for the reward so I shot him in self-defense, Sheriff’–think that’ll work?  Come on!”

The shouts grew closer and they could hear the pounding of feet at the far end of the alley. Kid got slowly to his feet.  Heyes grabbed his arm and all but dragged him away. 

It didn’t take them long to pack their saddlebags and retrieve their horses from the livery stable.  They were used to hasty exits.  They rode all that night, keeping on even when it started to drizzle, and then to rain.  They rode on until the grey dawn brought a gleam of sun through the clouds, and on into the afternoon.

Several times Heyes tried to start a conversation, but Kid rode with head down and returned no answers. Finally they came to a muddy crossroads where a signpost leaning drunkenly between two roads.  “Wicketville, 2 miles,” read Heyes.  “Want to stop there?”

“I don’t care,” Kid said, the first words he’d spoken all day.  Heyes shrugged, turned his horse down the road for Wicketville, and Kid followed. 

There was only one hotel in town, with a bar and a small restaurant. As soon as Heyes had paid for a room, Kid went over to the bar.  Heyes joined him, thinking he was going to order a drink, but Kid bought an entire bottle of whiskey.  Then he took the room key and headed upstairs.  Heyes watched him climb the stairs and vanish down the dim hallway.  He considered going after him, but decided against it.  He couldn’t, for once, think of anything to say.

He had a drink, and some dinner, and then joined in the local low-stakes poker game. He quietly won seventeen dollars, not wanting to attract any attention, just enough to pay for a few more meals. It was after midnight before he went upstairs. 

Heyes quietly opened the door to the room, which was unlocked, shaking his head.  He always insisted on locking the door, especially if he was going to be sleeping, or drinking, but Kid got careless sometimes. Kid was passed out on the bed, the lamp still lit, the whiskey bottle on the floor beside the bed.  Heyes picked the bottle up.  There was only about an inch of whiskey left in the bottom.

Heyes pulled off Kid’s boots and lined them up side by side, next to the bed.  He tossed an extra blanket over Kid, then finished off the whiskey bottle.  He turned in, dead tired after riding most of the previous night, but it took him a long time to fall asleep.  Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Catesby’s dead body, eyes wide open in surprise, and heard the two shots, one after the other like a clap of thunder.  Kid’s voice kept saying “What’d you have to do that for?  Leave me alone, willya!”

When he woke up the next morning, Kid was gone. His boots were gone, the blanket crumpled on the floor. Heyes splashed water on his face from the washbowl on the dresser, and was putting on his boots before he realized that all Kid’s things were gone too. Clothes, hat, saddlebags, everything.