No Regrets
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- 2 -
​
Lom and Heyes followed the Doctor’s instructions and kept the Kid involved in day to day activities, making him sit at the table with them at mealtimes and including him in all their conversations, even though he gave no sign that he was even aware of their presence.
After a couple of days, he began to eat the food that was offered to him and seemed to be more aware of his surroundings although he either couldn’t, or wouldn’t, respond to anything they said to him.
Over the next couple of weeks he continued to improve, as his mind slowly began to heal itself of the trauma inflicted on it, tempering down the awful memories that had overwhelmed it and caused it to temporarily shut down. He began to acknowledge direct questions with a nod or shake of the head and, a month after arriving back at Porterville, he was doing things of his own volition without having to be told, and seemed to be taking more of an interest in Lom and Heyes’ conversations, although he still hadn’t spoken a word, and whenever they weren’t with him he would spend long periods gazing vacantly into space.
On the fourth weekend after returning to Porterville, Heyes volunteered to go into town to fetch groceries, on Friday afternoon, intending to stop off at the saloon for a couple of drinks and a game or two of cards. He hadn’t left the cabin since their arrival, out of concern for the Kid’s condition but, now that he was beginning to make progress towards recovery, he felt easier about leaving him and was keen for some social stimulation. Also, he wanted to give Lom some money for keeping them, and, being short of cash, hoped he could win some at the poker table.
“I’m going into town for supplies, and to have a couple of games of poker.” Heyes told the Kid, “Do you want to come?” he enquired, already knowing it was a pointless question but not wanting him to feel left out.
The Kid eyed him briefly before giving a vague shake of his head as his gaze slid away to some point behind him.
“Maybe next time, eh?” said Heyes, giving his shoulder a friendly slap. The Kid didn’t respond.
Heyes rode into town and went into the saloon, spending a couple of hours at the card tables where he won a reasonable amount of cash. He decided to quit while his luck held and went off to get the groceries.
He loaded the two sacks of supplies onto his horse and headed back towards Lom’s cabin at a slow trot, enjoying the late afternoon sunshine and the warm breeze on his face.
As the horse rounded an outcrop of rock, it came upon a rattlesnake basking in the sunshine. As the snake began to shake its rattle, the horse panicked and reared up, twisting away from it.
Caught unawares, Heyes was thrown out of the saddle and down a steep embankment, rolling over and over, crashing into boulders and through brush and bushes before reaching the bottom of the slope, lying unconscious in a crumpled heap, blood trickling from a gash on his head, where he’d stuck a rock on the way down, and several scratches on his face and hands from the bushes he’d crashed through.
​
* * *
​
It was fifteen minutes before Heyes began to regain consciousness, and another ten before his senses cleared enough for him to recall what had happened, get to his feet and scramble back up the embankment.
He looked around for his horse, and spotted it a couple of hundred yards further along the track, grazing peacefully. The snake was nowhere to be seen.
Heyes shook his head, and gingerly touched a tender spot, feeling the area sticky with blood. His legs were shaky and he felt sick and light headed. He trudged, somewhat erratically, down the trail, towards the horse, wincing at the aches and pains caused by his fall.
He reached the horse and hauled himself into the saddle. He felt so shaken he couldn’t bear to ride at more than a walk, and it was another thirty minutes before he arrived back at Lom’s cabin.
Lom was just preparing supper as Heyes walked into the cabin.
“I thought you’d got lost…” Lom began, but broke off when he looked up and saw Heyes’ blood streaked face and dazed expression.
“What the… ” He stopped what he was doing and crossed the room to him, “What happened?” he asked, wondering if he’d got into a brawl in the saloon.
“M-my... horse was spooked by … a rattlesnake … threw me off. I fell down … an embankment ... knocked myself out.” Heyes replied dazedly.
“Mmm.” Lom said thoughtfully, eyeing the gash on his head, “Sit down, let’s have a look.” He led Heyes to the table and pushed him down onto a chair before going to the sink to get some water and a cloth.
Heyes put one elbow on the table and held his head in his hand. He had a pounding headache and felt sick.
Lom tended to the gash and the scratches to his face and hands before giving him a shot of brandy.
“Why don’t you go and lie down for a little while?” He suggested, noting the paleness of his face.
“Yeah, I think I will.” Heyes said gruffly.
As he crossed to the bedroom, the Kid came in from the other room. He glanced across at Heyes but Heyes didn’t acknowledge him, holding a hand to his head.
“His horse got spooked by a rattlesnake.” Lom told the Kid, “Threw him off. He took a pretty nasty bang on the head. I’ve sent him to lie down for a while. He looked a bit sick.”
The Kid glanced back at the bedroom door that Heyes had just disappeared through, but made no further response as Lom went out to get the groceries and unsaddle the horse.
Heyes got up a couple of hours later and pronounced himself recovered. They ate supper as usual, then sat around the fire sharing a few drinks and Heyes as Lom played cards while the Kid watched.
​
​
Heyes slept late the next morning and got up with a headache, but when Lom questioned him, he said he felt fine. Later, as he was sitting on the porch reading a book, his vision suddenly became blurred. Heyes put down the book and rubbed his eyes, tilting his head back to rest it on the back of the chair with his eyes closed. After several moments his vision cleared, but Heyes decided not to continue reading, presuming it was some sort of eye strain. The headache persisted all day, although he didn’t mention it to Lom, and when he got up the next morning he felt strange, although he couldn’t put his finger on what exactly felt different. His head still hurt, but since he had numerous bruises from his fall he put it put it down to that.
After breakfast, he went out to chop some logs for the wood pile while Lom did his weekend chores, but he felt unusually lethargic and couldn’t get into the task. Even his aim was off, as he missed several completely.
Eventually he gave up the task, putting his bad aim down to the stiffness of his muscles after the fall, and decided to continue with the book he’d been reading the previous day, but he couldn’t seem to concentrate on that either, finding himself re-reading the same paragraph over and over and not taking it in.
He went inside when Lom called to say lunch was ready.
Lom chatted over the table, but Heyes made only the barest of responses.
“Are you alright?” Lom asked. Heyes was never usually short of anything to say, and Lom also had noticed how lethargic he seemed, pushing his food absently around the plate.
“Mmm? Oh, yeah. I’m just not very hungry.” Heyes replied apologetically.
Lom finished his own lunch and announced he was going to change his clothes for an urgent meeting he’d been called to at the courthouse later that afternoon. He left the room and the Kid moved away from the table to an armchair by the hearth, leaving Heyes to finish his lunch.
As he sat there, Heyes’ vision once again began to blur, but this time everything went dark, until it was like trying to look at the table in the evening with no lamp. He shook his head, but it didn’t clear. He made as though to lift his hand to his head, but found it wouldn’t respond and a cold prickly sensation was beginning to spread from the nape of his neck across his shoulders and up into his head.
Stricken with panic he jumped to his feet, but his legs gave way beneath him and he sank to the floor amid a red mist that turned rapidly to black as he fell into unconsciousness.
In his room, Lom was startled when the door flew open and the Kid burst in, the vacant expression he’d worn since Laura’s murder, replaced with a look of panic.
“What’s up?” asked Lom as he tied his tie in the dresser mirror.
The Kid didn’t speak but turned to rush back into the kitchen, a look of panic on his face.
With a puzzled look on his face Lom followed.
“Oh, no!” he gasped when he saw Heyes’ crumpled form. He hurriedly crossed the room and knelt down beside him, feeling for a pulse, while the Kid hovered nearby his face ashen.
“He’s alive.” Lom told him before gently rolling Heyes onto his back and examining him.
“Heyes?” Lom slapped his face, “Heyes? Can you hear me?” But Heyes did not stir.
Lom picked him up, carried him into the bedroom and lay him down on the bed on his side. He checked his pulse once again before covering him with a blanket and going back into the kitchen.
“Keep an eye on him while I fetch the doctor.” he ordered the Kid, picking up his hat and hurrying out of the cabin without a backward glance.
The Kid remained standing where he was for several moments, before finally going into the bedroom where he sat on the edge of a wicker chair at the foot of the bed, his eyes riveted on Heyes’ face, making sure he was still breathing. He remained there, motionless, until Lom returned with the doctor when he got to his feet and moved to stand with Lom at the side of the bed as the doctor began his examination.
“This gash on his head. How did he get it?” the doctor asked.
“His horse was spooked by a rattlesnake and threw him.” Lom told him.
“How long ago?”
“Yesterday afternoon.” Lom told him.
The doctor made no further comment until he’d finished his examination.
Removing his stethoscope, he straightened up with a pensive frown.
“I believe that he has a blood clot as a result of that fall which has caused pressure in the brain causing him to lapse into a coma. He needs urgent surgery to release that pressure.”
“Isn’t that kind of surgery dangerous?” asked Lom.
The doctor nodded. “Yes. Very.”
Lom thought for a moment, weighing up the doctor’s words.
“Do you want to operate here?” he asked presently. Under the circumstances it didn’t seem wise to move him.
The doctor chewed his lip anxiously. “I’m not qualified in this type of surgery.” he said, “I could do more harm than good.” He thought for a moment, “Lars Petersen is an expert in neurology, but he’s over in Cheyenne.”
“We could wire him.” Lom suggested.
The doctor shook his head. “Even if he were available, he couldn’t get here in less than three days. That’s too long. He needs surgery immediately, otherwise any damage sustained will likely become permanent. If he doesn’t die that is.”
“Then you have to do it.” said Lom.”
“But I’ve only read about this type of procedure. It could be as dangerous for me to proceed as to wait for Doctor Petersen.”
“Then I can’t see how you can make things worse than they are.” said Lom.
“But I’d never forgive myself if anything went wrong.” sighed the doctor.
“Under the circumstances no one could blame you.” said Lom, “He needs surgery now and you’re the only one available to perform it.”
The doctor sighed. “Alright.” he agreed reluctantly, “But I’ll have to go back to my office to fetch my instruments and check in my books for the procedure I need to carry out. While I’m away, would you strip this bed and sterilize all around the area with boiling water?”
Lom nodded.
As the doctor turned to leave Lom said, “What do you give his chances, Doc?”
The doctor blew out his cheeks, a pensive frown furrowing his brow. “Of survival … I’d say … 10%, maybe ... Of permanent brain damage... ” He met Lom’s eyes and shrugged, “I have to say … there’s a high probability.” Their eyes held, the doctor’s concerned, Lom’s shocked.
On hearing the doctor’s gloomy prognosis, the Kid, who had been listening to their conversation with an anguished expression on his face, gave a gasp of shock before turning on his heel and dashing out of the room.
Lom and the doctor turned to watch him leave and then exchanged glances. After everything he’d been through these past few weeks, this was the last thing he needed to hear.
“I’ll be about half an hour or so.” said the doctor, his tone sombre.
“O.K.” Lom escorted him to the door.
The Kid was sitting on the porch step, his arms wrapped around his knees, his head buried in the crook of one elbow, rocking back and forth.
With a compassionate look in his direction, the doctor mounted his horse and rode off at a gallop, aware that every minute counted towards keeping his patient alive.
Lom crossed the porch and sat down on the step at the Kid’s side, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Kid…” he began.
The Kid raised his head now, tears damp on his cheeks.
“He … can’t … die.” he croaked, a look of what could only be described as terror on his face, “Not him too.”
Momentarily startled to hear him speak after all this time, Lom said, “Doc Simpson’s a good doctor. If anyone can save him, he can.”
The Kid dropped his head back onto his arms, shaking it in despair. After all the trauma of Laura and the baby’s murder, he just couldn’t handle the thought of Heyes dying too.
“Come on.” Lom said, squeezing his shoulder, “Help me get things ready. There’s no time to lose.” he said firmly.
The Kid wiped his face on his shirt sleeve and got up, following Lom inside where they carried out the doctors instructions to clean and sterilize the bed and surrounding area. They then laid a clean sheet on it before stripping Heyes of his clothes and covering him with another sheet.
The doctor returned forty minutes later and laid out his instruments, before donning a mask and gown and handing one to Lom who was to be his assistant. Lom had initially refused, not feeling up to the task, being somewhat squeamish. But the doctor had told him that he couldn’t do the surgery alone and, since the Kid was in no fit state to help, he had no choice but to agree.
Once dressed, they went into the bedroom and closed the door, leaving the Kid nervously pacing in the other room.
The doctor shaved Heyes’ hair from around the affected area and then made his first incision.
Lom took a deep breath and gritted his teeth as nausea washed over him and his head began to swim, but, as the doctor issued instructions to him, he forgot to be squeamish as he tried to do what the doctor commanded, correctly, aware all the time that one slip by either of them could mean Heyes’ death.
“Ah.” The doctor said presently, “I think we’re in the right place. See how this blood is much darker than the other? I think this is where the clot is.”
After what seemed like an eternity to Lom, the doctor said, “I think that’s it.” He began to sew up the wound and then bandaged Heyes’ head heavily.
“What do you think, Doc?” asked Lom as they disrobed.
“Well, he’s survived the surgery, which in itself is no mean feat.” replied the doctor, “All we can do now is wait. He may regain consciousness, he may not. I can’t say. I have no experience in this area.”
They cleaned up and remade the bed, gently lifting Heyes to pull clean sheets beneath him and then they got him into a nightshirt before pulling the bedcovers over him.
The doctor checked his pulse and then looked at his pupils.
“So far, so good.” he commented to Lom.
“I’ll get rid of this dirty linen.” said Lom, “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink. Coffee?”
“Please.” nodded the doctor.
“Or would you prefer scotch?” asked Lom.
The doctor smiled. “I would, but I’ll stick to coffee. I want to keep a clear head for the next few hours in case he takes a turn for the worse.”
Lom nodded. “Coffee it is.”
He went into the kitchen where the Kid jumped to his feet, a questioning look in his eyes.
“He made it through the surgery.” Lom told him as he deposited the soiled linen in the laundry basket.
Relief flooded the Kid’s face.​
“Now we just have to wait … and pray.” Lom added as he put water on for the coffee.
The doctor sat with Heyes all through the night, obviously concerned that his lack of experience in neurosurgery would manifest itself in some way or other.
Lom offered to take over for him, but the doctor insisted he could manage and sent him to bed.
When they rose the next morning, Heyes was still alive, which the doctor said was a good sign.
“His pulse and respiration are steady.” he told them, “Now we just have to wait.” He looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, “I think I’ll wire Lars Petersen to come over and have a look at him. I’d like his opinion and his advice on aftercare.”
The doctor left then, to get some sleep, with instructions for Lom to fetch him if there was any change in Heyes condition. But when he returned that evening, his condition remained unchanged.
The doctor checked his pulse and temperature and looked at his pupils.
“How’s he doing, Doc?” asked Lom.
“The same. No worse, no better. I’ve wired Lars Petersen to come over. He wired back to say he’ll be here the day after tomorrow.”
​
​
When Doctor Petersen arrived, Heyes’ condition was still unchanged.
Doctor Simpson introduced him to Lom and the Kid and then explained how Heyes had sustained his injury and the type of surgery he’d carried out. Then they adjourned to the bedroom where Dr. Petersen removed the bandages from Heyes’ head and examined the area thoroughly before listening to his chest and checking his pulse and respiration.
“You did a good job, Doctor Simpson.” he told him. “The swelling is all but gone and the wound is healing well.”
“Thank you.” Doctor Simpson looked relieved. “What do you rate his chances of recovery?”
“I would think, if he’s going to regain consciousness, it will be within the next couple of days. As to what his condition might be, I couldn’t say.” He turned to Lom and the Kid, “Did he display any symptoms prior to his collapse?”
“Well, he complained of a headache after the fall. But after that he said he felt fine.” said Lom, “But I did notice that he seemed listless that day, as though he couldn’t settle, but at the same time, sort of lethargic. He hardly ate and didn’t seem to be listening when I spoke to him. I didn’t see him collapse, so I don’t know exactly what happened.”
“I did.” The Kid spoke now, drawing a startled glance from Lom. He hadn’t spoken since his tearful outburst on the porch on the day of Heyes’ operation.
“And what happened?” asked Dr. Petersen.
“He … seemed to be having trouble with his eyes.” the Kid replied in a monotone voice, his speech slow and stilted, “He kept … screwing them up and shaking his head. Then … he tried to stand up but his legs just … gave way under him.”
Doctor Petersen nodded, “Pressure on the nerves and blood vessels in the brain can cause blindness, deafness, speech loss and paralysis. Whether or not the effects will be permanent, only time will tell.”
“And if he doesn’t come round?” Lom asked.
“That would indicate damage too serious for recovery, and he would remain in this condition until he died.” replied Dr Petersen. “But,” he added, seeing their anxious expressions, “so far things are looking favourable.” He turned to Doctor Simpson, “I would suggest that you keep an eye on his chest. If he should develop pneumonia, he may not be strong enough to recover.”
Doctor Simpson nodded. “I will.”
Dr. Petersen then bid them farewell and Doctor Simpson escorted him back to town to the hotel.
​
Lom and the Kid spent an anxious two days waiting to see if he would recover, but were then rewarded with some random eye movement which indicated that he was beginning to make the journey back towards consciousness.
Later that day, he opened his eyes, but, while physically conscious, mentally he still hadn’t regained his senses, oblivious to all attempts to get a response from him.
He drifted in and out of consciousness all afternoon. When Doctor Simpson came to check on him in the evening, they filled him in on the day’s developments.
The doctor examined him while Lom and the Kid hovered at the foot of the bed.
Straightening, the doctor removed his stethoscope and then took a sharp instrument out of his bag and pricked the end of Heyes’ thumb with it. Heyes flinched.
“His vital signs are almost back to normal, he told them, “and as you can see, he responds to pain.” He gave a satisfied nod, “He’s getting there. He should fully regain consciousness soon and then I can carry out some tests to see what damage his brain may have sustained.”
“Would you like to join us for supper?” Lom enquired.
“Thank you. Yes, I’d like to stay a while in case he wakes up.”
Lom prepared supper and the three of them ate in the kitchen.
Afterwards the doctor kept tabs on Heyes and a couple of hours later, he finally recovered his awareness, looking around the room in confusion.’
“Hello there.” Doctor Simpson bent over him and smiled, “How are you doing?”
Heyes just blinked and stared at him.
“Can you understand me?” the doctor asked.
After several moments Heyes gave a slow nod.
“Do you know where you are?”
Heyes’ eyes drifted around the room before he shook his head.
“Do you know who this is?” the doctor indicated Lom at the foot of the bed.
Heyes shook his head again.
“Do you remember what happened to you?” the doctor asked.
Again Heyes shook his head.
“Can you remember your name?”
Heyes stared at the ceiling for several moments before shaking his head once more.
“Don’t worry, it’s quite common to forget things after surgery. It will come back to you.” the doctor told him reassuringly. “Your name is Joshua and you had an accident and banged your head and that caused some internal bleeding. But we’ve operated and taken care of that.”
Heyes just stared at him, looking confused.
The doctor asked Lom and the Kid to leave the room while he conducted a series of tests to ascertain the extent of any brain damage.
He came out some time later with a pensive frown on his face.
“Well?” Lom asked anxiously.
‘He has some paralysis down his right side, and he can’t speak at the moment.’
Lom moved to put a reassuring arm around the Kid’s shoulder as he gave a gasp of shock at the doctor’s words.
“It may or may not be permanent.” the doctor told them, “It’s too soon to tell.”
“So what happens now?” asked Lom.
“There is a clinic in Cheyenne that specializes in this kind of thing.” the doctor told him, “The Deveraux Institute, and they’ve had some very encouraging results with patients suffering from stroke paralysis, spinal injuries and neurological diseases. Moving him there could make a big different in his recovery level.”
Lom turned to the Kid. “What do you think?” he asked.
The Kid gave a helpless shrug, his expression anguished. He was still too fragile, emotionally, after everything that had happened this past few weeks, to be able to give a rational answer. “We don’t have the money for that kind of care.” he replied some moments later.
“Don’t worry about that.” said Lom, “I’ll take care of the bills.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.” The Kid looked at Lom as though he were offering to give up his life, not his money.
“You’re not, I’m offering.” Lom replied, “I’ve been saving for a rainy day. One just came along.”
“Our rainy day, not yours.” said the Kid, “You might need that money yourself one day.”
“I’m not going to argue with you.” Lom cut him off, “If the Doc thinks going to this clinic will help Heyes get better, I’m prepared to pay whatever it costs. You wouldn’t deny him the chance would you?”
The Kid shook his head, looking hurt at the suggestion. He sighed, looking defeated.
“If the Doctor thinks that’s the best thing for him, it’s fine with me… and thanks, Lom … from both of us. I’ll find a way to pay you back, I promise.”
“That’s settled then.” Lom ignored the Kid’s promise and turned to the doctor, “How soon can it be arranged?”
“It’ll take a couple of days, by which time he’ll be in a more fit state to travel. We don’t want to delay too long. Every day counts with this type of treatment.”
* * *
It took the doctor two days to make the arrangements and the clinic advised that they would be ready to receive him two days after that. So, on the third day, the doctor and Lom made a bed up in the back of the doctor’s wagon, with plenty of pillows to cushion him from the bumps in the road, before they stretchered Heyes outside and made him as comfortable as they could. Heyes was more coherent now, but still had no memory of Lom or the Kid, or of what had happened, and seemed frustrated by his inability to communicate.
“Take it easy now.” Lom told him as he climbed out of the wagon, ‘The Doc’ll take care of you and we’ll see you soon.”
Lom had intended to go with them to Cheyenne, but the doctor had suggested he leave it for a couple of weeks before visiting him.
“He won’t miss you because he doesn’t remember you at the moment. It’s pointless taking time off work. You may as well wait until he’s more recovered.”
Lom had reluctantly agreed. Apart from his job, he had the Kid to consider. He was still far from recovered himself. Mentally he was in a very fragile state and Lom didn’t think he was up to the trauma of travelling to Cheyenne and he didn’t want to leave him alone in the cabin while he went alone. Perhaps in two or three weeks he would be more able to handle things.
The doctor climbed up on the front of the wagon and took up the reins.
“I’ll probably stay a day or two to study their techniques.” he told Lom, “I’ll be back in five or six days. I’ll let you know then how he’s getting on.”
Lom nodded. “Thanks, Doc. Take care.”
He crossed to the porch as the wagon moved off, glancing across at the Kid who was standing watching anxiously after it.
Apart from their exchange about whether or not to send Heyes to the clinic, the Kid had barely spoken since Heyes’ collapse, and Lom was worried about him. He wasn’t sure if his continued mood of withdrawal was because of Laura and the baby’s death, Heyes’ injuries, or a combination of the two. He badly needed to talk about his feelings, but try as he might, Lom hadn’t been able to get him to open up to him.
The doctor lifted his hand in a brief wave. Lom returned the gesture, but the Kid merely turned sharply on his heel and strode away into the cabin.
With one more look in the direction of the receding wagon, Lom followed him. He was standing by the hearth gazing pensively into the ashes of the previous night’s fire.
Lom crossed to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “‘Kid…” he began, but the Kid twisted away from him.
“Don’t be downhearted.” he told him, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly, “Heyes is getting the best treatment there is. I know it’s hard to see him like that, but we have to be glad he’s alive. It was a close thing. The Doc didn’t think he’d survive the operation.”
Lom could feel the Kid’s shoulders tremble as he struggled with the words he hated to say but couldn’t keep in.
“Maybe… it would have been better if… he hadn’t.”
“Don’t say that.” said Lom, “Life is precious. You of all people should know that.”
“I can’t help it.” croaked the Kid, “What sort of a life can he have, now… like that?”
“The Doc said that his disabilities may not be permanent.” said Lom, “We have to pray that they’re not.”
“I feel so… responsible.” choked the Kid, tears welling in his eyes, “He asked me to go to town with him that day...” he shook his head, “If I’d gone with him… this might not have happened.”
“You don’t know that…” Lom began but the Kid spoke over him.
“And Laura… if I’d tried harder… to fight them… maybe I could have saved her.” He broke off, lifting his hands to cover his face, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
“You did all you could.” Lom soothed, “You couldn’t fight off that many men. No-one could. You couldn’t have stopped them. And as for Heyes’ accident, even if you’d been with him that day, there’s no saying you would have been able to prevent what happened. In fact you might both have been hurt. You have no cause to blame yourself for anything.”
“If I’d… bargained with them…” the Kid continued, his mind still on Laura’s murder, “admitted who I was, and agreed to let them take me in for the reward… perhaps they would have left her alone…”
“You don’t really believe that.” said Lom, “You were in no position to bargain. They knew that. They’d have killed her whatever you offered to do. They were evil men.” But the Kid didn’t seem to be listening.
“She was all I had… and Heyes… and now I’ve lost him too.” He shook his head in despair.
“You don’t know that.” Lom squeezed his shoulder, “We have to be strong for him, pray for him and, just maybe, God willing, he’ll be OK.”
“You don’t really believe that.” sniffed the Kid, ‘You saw him. Do you honestly think he can recover?”
“We have to hope he can, and pray for it.” Lom said again.
“I’ve prayed before.” croaked the Kid, remembering how, as a child, he’d prayed for God to give them their parents back after their brutal murders, and, later, for a home and someone to care for them to save them from having to beg and steal and, ultimately, end up the outlaws they were today, and at several other desperate times in his life, all to no avail, “Nothing changed.” he said bitterly.
He shook his head, his eyes filling with tears once more as he thought of the life Heyes would probably be condemned to, while Lom just stared at him, unable to think of anything to say to combat what the Kid had just said. He knew they’d had some hard times in their lives. It was understandable that he had no faith.
“Well, it can’t do any harm.” He told him presently, “I’ll pray for him every day. And for you too.” he added, “I hate to see you so lost.”
The Kid got to his feet. “I need some air.” he said gruffly.
“Sure.” Lom gave him a reassuring smile, watching him as he left the cabin, wiping his face on the sleeve of his shirt. When he returned three hours later, while his eyes were still red rimmed, he seemed calmer than he’d been for some time, and actually chatted to Lom over supper, although he didn’t mention Heyes, or their earlier conversation, at all, and didn’t mention him again until the doctor returned five days later, although Lom knew that it didn’t mean he wasn’t in his thoughts. His long pensive silences indicated that he was almost always in his mind.
​
​
Doctor Simpson came up to see them the day after he returned, looking weary from the trip.
“How did it go?” asked Lom.
“O.K.” replied the doctor, “I kept to the smoothest routes to avoid bouncing him around, and although he was pretty exhausted when we arrived, he was in relatively good shape.”
“Do they think they can help him?” asked Lom.
“They seemed fairly optimistic.” said the doctor, “Doctor Deveraux seemed to think that the paralysis might not be permanent. He’s begun a programme of stimulational exercises to try to prompt his brain to make the relevant responses.”
“Did he say how long it might take before he knows for sure if he’ll recover?”
“It’s impossible to say.” replied the doctor, “But I expect it will be a minimum of six months, maybe longer.”
“Six months?” the Kid gasped, “Lom, you can’t afford to pay for him to stay there for that long.”
“I can and I will.” Lom glared at him, angry that he should bring the subject of money up in front of the doctor again. Then, turning to Doctor Simpson, he said, “Did he show any signs of response while you were there?”
“No, but Doctor Deveraux seemed very satisfied with the way things were going.”
They spoke for a short time longer before the doctor left, whereupon Lom rounded angrily on the Kid.
“I’d be obliged if, in future, you wouldn’t make inferences about the state of my finances in front of the doctor.” he snapped, causing a flush of embarrassment to colour the Kid’s cheeks, “I already told you I was prepared to finance Heyes’ treatment, irrespective of how long it takes. Instead of worrying about whether I can afford to pay for it, you might try praying that it works.” he added, turning on his heel and striding out of the cabin to fetch some logs for the evening’s fire. When he returned, the Kid was still standing where Lom had left him. He strode past him and knelt down by the hearth to prepare the fire.
“I’m sorry, Lom.” the Kid said gruffly, “You’re right. It was very rude of me to say that in front of the doctor, but…”
“No buts.” Lom raised his hand to cut him off, “It’s my money and I’ll spend it as I see fit, and I don’t want to hear any more about it. Is that clear?”
The Kid sighed. “O.K.”
“Right. Well, you can put the coffee on while I light this fire. Then we’ll have supper. O.K.?”
The Kid nodded. Crossing to the sink he began pumping water for the coffee pot, the squeak of the pump the only sound in the cabin.
“Lom.” The Kid spoke as he put the lid on the coffee pot.
“Yeah?” Lom replied, busying himself with the fire. When the Kid didn’t speak, Lom looked over his shoulder at him, “Yeah?”
“I am praying.” The Kid said quietly, his expression serious. Their eyes held for several moments. Eventually, the corners of Lom’s mouth twitched faintly into a wry smile.
“So am I.” he said gruffly, holding the Kid’s gaze for a moment longer before returning to the task of lighting the fire.
* * *
​During the next three weeks the Kid tried his best to be more sanguine, although he was still far from his usual self. He didn’t mention Heyes at all, although Lom knew it wasn’t because he wasn’t on his mind, he just didn’t know how to deal with everything that had happened.
However, when Lom mentioned visiting Heyes the following weekend, his mood changed rapidly. He became quiet and withdrawn and tried to avoid the subject, until Lom pinned him down with a direct question.
“I can’t.” the Kid whispered.
“Huh?” Lom grunted in surprise, “But … why not?” He glanced at the Kid over the table where they were eating supper, his knife and fork poised in mid air.
“I just... can’t.” the Kid repeated, shaking his head.
Lom studied him momentarily as he pushed his food absently around his plate an anguished expression on his face.
“I know it’s hard…” Lom said presently, “but he needs our support.”
The Kid shook his head.
“Don’t you think you owe it to him?” asked Lom, “After all, he was here to support you when—“ he broke off as the Kid slammed his knife and fork down on his plate, stood up and strode out of the cabin, slamming the door so hard, the walls shook.
Lom stared at the door for several moments before continuing with his supper. When he’d finished, he cleared away, disposing of the Kid’s half eaten meal and washing up the dishes. When he’d finished, he opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, glancing around for a sign of him, doing a double take when he spotted him sitting on the edge of the porch not ten feet from the door. His elbows were resting on his knees his hands clasped together between them, his shoulders hunched and his head bowed.
Lom walked across the porch and sat down a couple of feet from him.
“Kid?” he said gruffly.
The Kid didn’t reply.
“I didn’t mean to make it sound so…” Lom began, but the Kid spoke over him, cutting off the rest of his sentence.
“You don’t have to tell me what I owe him. I know what I owe him.” He shook his head, “It’s not that I don’t want to see him… I just can’t face… seeing him… like that.” He sighed, “I feel so… responsible… it just tears me apart.” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion.
“You’ve nothing to reel responsible for. I’m sure Heyes doesn’t blame you for anything.” said Lom. When the Kid didn’t answer he added. “You have to see him sometime. Putting it off will only make it harder.”
“I know.” the Kid nodded, “But I can’t... not yet...” he croaked, getting to his feet and turning away from him.
Lom got to his feet and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Kid…” he began, but the Kid twisted away from him.
“I’m sorry... I can’t.” he choked, “Please Lom… leave it.” he pleaded, striding away back into the cabin and disappearing into his room.
Lom stood there for several moments before going back inside, shaking his head to himself.​
​
​
Lom organized his trip to Cheyenne without mentioning it again to the Kid until the morning of his departure.
“Are you sure you won’t come?” he asked him as they ate breakfast.
The Kid shook his head.
“Will you be alright here on your own until I get back?” Lom asked.
The Kid nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
Neither spoke again until Lom mounted his horse to leave.
“I’ll be back in a few days.” he told the Kid, “Take care.”
“You too.” the Kid replied.
Lom nodded and picked up the reins.
​
“Give him my best.” the Kid said suddenly.
Lom glanced sharply at him, surprised by his words. Then he smiled. “I will.” he said softly, “See you.”
​
* * *
On his arrival in Cheyenne, Lom went first to the hotel to book a room and freshen up before riding up to the Deveraux Institute which was situated a couple of miles out of town.
He passed through the gate and rode up to a large building, set in several acres of land, which was fenced off from the surrounding forestland. He dismounted and went inside where he was met by an orderly in a white coat who led him to the office of the head of the Institute, Doctor David Deveraux. The orderly knocked and entered at a called “Come in”. A moment later the orderly came out and ushered Lom into the room.
“Good afternoon.” Doctor Deveraux stood up and greeted Lom with a smile, extending his hand, which Lom shook.
“Good afternoon.” he returned the greeting with a smile.
“Please, sit down.” Doctor Deveraux waved a hand towards a chair behind his desk, “I gather you’re here to visit Joshua?”
Lom nodded, sitting down. “Yes, that’s right. I would have come before, but our doctor said there would be no point in visiting straight away.”
Doctor Deveraux nodded, delving into a pile of brown files on his desk and withdrawing one that bore the name Joshua Smith. Putting on his spectacles, he began to read through his notes, while Lom studied him. Probably in his mid fifties, he was a stocky man with a lions mane of greying brown hair, receding at the temples. He had a kindly face and gentle blue eyes and Lom liked him instantly. Doctor Simpson had told him that many years ago, while practicing as a medical doctor, Doctor Deveraux’s young daughter had been partially paralysed after a riding accident, and he had spent all his time afterwards trying to develop techniques which he hoped would stimulate other parts of her brain to compensate for the damaged areas, and had had remarkable success. The girl had learned to walk again, although she’d always had to use a walking stick, and had regained the use of her hands, learned to write again, and although remained somewhat “slow” was able to lead a relatively normal life instead of being confined to a wheelchair unable to do anything for herself.
“Yes.” The doctor said now, “We’ve been working with Joshua intensively since his arrival.” He glanced at Lom, “The first weeks are the most crucial.” he told him, before returning his attention once more to his notes, “And the results are encouraging, although there’s a long way to go yet.”
“Do you think he’ll make a full recovery?” asked Lom.
“It’s too early to say.” replied the doctor, “But I’m happy with his progress so far. He’s recovered the use of his vocal chords, but he still needs more work to help him form his words properly. I daresay he will have lost chunks of his memory and may not be able to recall all of his vocabulary, but what he can’t remember, he can re-learn later. He’s also beginning to get some movement back into his arm and hand, although as yet he can’t grip or pick anything up.”
“And how does he seem mentally?” asked Lom, “Before he left, he seemed very frustrated by his disabilities.”
The doctor nodded. “Yes, he is. But now he has a programme to work to, and is showing signs of response, he has something to channel his frustrations into.”
“May I see him?” asked Lom.
“Of course.” Doctor Deveraux got to his feet, “Come with me.” He opened the door and Lom followed him along a long corridor that lead to the other buildings attached to the main block.
“Despite the progress he’s made, don’t expect too much.” The doctor warned, “To you, he won’t seem all that different to how he was, and it’s doubtful he’ll respond to you, even if he remembers you, which is by no means certain.”
“I understand.” replied Lom.
They entered into a large Common Room, it’s walls lined with shelves of books. Several chairs and tables were scattered around the room, along with numerous armchairs and sofas. At some of the tables, patients sat, reading, or doing exercises with staff. Others walked up and down with the aid of walking sticks.
They crossed the room towards a table in the corner, where a member of staff was sitting with Heyes, who was seated opposite him in a wheelchair. As they got closer, Lom could see they were conducting exercises on Heyes’ paralysed arm.
“Joshua.” Doctor Deveraux smiled down at him, “There’s someone here to see you.”
Heyes’ eyes moved to Lom standing at the doctor’s side.
“Hello, Joshua. How are you doing?” Lom smiled at him.
Heyes just stared at him, showing no sign that he’d understood, or even heard Lom’s words. There was no recognition in his eyes, and his expression was oddly vacant. But physically he looked quite well. The grey pallor he’d had when he left Porterville was gone, and his eyes, though vacant, were clear and bright. New hair was beginning to grow over the area Doctor Simpson had operated on and would soon cover the scar from his incision.
“This is…” Doctor Deveraux turned questioningly to Lom.
“Lom.” said Lom.
“Lom.” the doctor repeated to Heyes.
Still Heyes just stared at him.
“The doctor tells me you’re doing great,” said Lom, “and that you’ll be out of here in no time at all.”
A slight frown furrowed Heyes’ brow as though he didn’t understand what Lom was talking about, but at least it showed he’d heard him.
“You probably won’t remember Lom yet.” the doctor said to Heyes, “But it’ll come back to you.”
“We’re old friends.” Lom smiled, “Oh, and Thaddeus sends his regards. He’s an old friend too. You saw him at the cabin before you came here.” he said, not seeing the point in explaining their relationship any further at this point. Hopefully, he would remember for himself eventually.
They chatted to him for several minutes longer before the doctor suggested that they leave him to get on with his exercises.
“Sure.” said Lom, “I’ll see you again soon.” he told Heyes, “You take care now.”
Heyes gave no response, and Lom reluctantly followed the doctor back to the main building.
“He looks pretty good under the circumstances.” Lom said to the doctor as they walked.
Doctor Deveraux nodded. “Yes. He’s a lucky young man. The kind of surgery he had is very dangerous. Not too many doctors are qualified enough to undertake it, and even fewer patients survive long enough to receive it. Whatever recovery he achieves has to be a bonus. That he survived at all is a small miracle.”
Lom nodded. “I know.” He sighed, “His friend doesn’t seem to see it the same way though. He thinks it would have been better if he’d died.”
“It’s an understandable reaction.” said Doctor Deveraux. “I felt like that when Katherine was injured. That’s why I worked so hard to find a way to give her back her life.”
“What if you hadn’t been able to do that? “ asked Lom, “Would you have wanted her to live?”
The doctor sighed. “No. But I wouldn’t have wanted to let her go either. It’s selfish I know but…”
“You’re her Father. It’s only natural you’d feel that way. Parents are conditioned to believe their children will outlive them, not the other way round.”
They arrived at the main door and stopped walking.
“Well, thank you for seeing me.” said Lom, “I’ll be back in three or four weeks. If you need to contact me for anything in the meantime, you can wire me at my office.”
The doctor nodded. “Take care.”
"Thank you." Lom shook the doctor’s hand and left. He had intended to spend longer with Heyes, but at the moment there was no point.
* * *
​
It was just getting dark when Lom drew up outside his cabin on Saturday evening. He unsaddled the horse and put it in the corral before collecting his belongings and going inside.
The cabin was in darkness save for the glow from a fire in the hearth. In the dim light he could see the remains of a meal on the table. Stepping further into the room, he saw the Kid slumped in an armchair by the fire, his head propped on one arm, eyes closed.
Putting his things down on the floor, he crossed to him and put a hand on his shoulder.​
“Kid?” he called softly.
The Kid woke with a start. “Wha…” He half jumped up out of the chair, “Lom? Oh, God … you nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I was worried you were sick, slumped in the chair like that.”
The Kid rubbed his eyes and straightened up in the chair.
“I’m alright. I guess the heat of the fire made me drowsy.”
“Good job you weren’t wearing you gun, huh?” Lom grinned, crossing to the dresser and lighting the lamp before putting some water on for a pot of coffee, “Everything O.K?” he asked
“Yeah.” the Kid replied.
Both were silent for several moments. Eventually the Kid said, “How did it go?”
“O.K.” replied Lom, putting coffee in the pot before turning to face him, “Doctor Deveraux thinks he’s making good progress.”
“And what do you think?” the Kid asked quietly.
“I think … we made the right decision, sending him there. It’s a good place. They know their stuff.”
“But… how is he?” asked the Kid.
Lom gave a cautious nod. “Under the circumstances … fine.”
“What’s all this ‘good progress’, ‘under the circumstances fine’?” the Kid growled at Lom, “How is he?” he demanded.
Lom studied him momentarily as his eyes bored into Lom’s. All these weeks of denying the reality of Heyes’ condition, of blaming himself for it, of avoiding discussing it, had taken their toll on him and he could no longer contain his feelings.
“He looks a lot better than he did when he left here," he said presently, “and he’s beginning to respond to the treatment. He’s recovered the use of his vocal chords and he has some movement in his arm, but he’s got a long way to go yet.”
“Do they think he’ll recover?”
“They don’t know yet.” said Lom, “Only time will tell.” At the Kid’s disappointed look he added, “But he’ll certainly do a lot better there than here. They have dozens of patients with similar disabilities and, with some of them, you would hardly know there was anything wrong with them.”
The Kid didn’t reply and Lom let the subject drop.
* * *
​
When Lom went again to visit Heyes at the Institute three weeks later, the Kid again refused to go with him. Lom decided not to push it. He felt sure that his curiosity, and his need to know how his friend was progressing, would eventually overcome his fears of seeing him in his incapacitated condition, and Lom didn’t want to antagonize him any more than necessary. During the past couple of weeks Lom had noticed an improvement in the Kid’s general wellbeing, and he didn’t want to jeopardize that. He had begun to take some interest in life again, helping him out with the chores, chatting about local affairs, and had even spoken about trying to find a job to occupy his time and to pay for his keep. Whether his renewed interest in life was due to the news that Heyes’ condition was showing signs of improvement Lom could only speculate, but he didn’t want to risk upsetting him by arguing about visiting.
At the Institute, Doctor Deveraux told him that Heyes was still making good progress. In the three weeks since Lom’s last visit he had begun to speak, although so far he could only manage a few words, and they were working towards him being able to use his hand and to begin relearning how to write and to do everyday tasks, such as fastening his shirt buttons and combing his hair, which he currently needed help with.
“What about his leg?” asked Lom
“There is some feeling and movement there.” The doctor told him, “But it’s going to be some time before we know if he’ll recover enough to be able to walk.”
The doctor took Lom out to a large veranda at the back of the main building, where Heyes was working on some arm and hand exercises with one of the staff.
“Joshua.” The doctor addressed him, “Do you remember Mr. Trevors? He came to see you a couple of weeks ago.”
As Heyes turned his head to look at him, Lom saw a spark of recognition in his eyes, and a ghost of a smile light in their depths, but it was quickly extinguished and replaced with a sullen glare, and Lom almost began to wonder if he’d imagined it.
“Hi." Lom smiled, “How are you doing?”
Heyes lifted his shoulders in a shrug and looked away. Lom looked at Doctor Deveraux who gave a nod of reassurance.
With a sigh, Lom pulled up a spare chair and sat down beside Heyes.
“The Doc tells me you’re doing great.” he said, with a reassuring smile.
Heyes gave no response and refused to meet Lom’s eyes. Lom guessed he was embarrassed for him to see him in his current state and was pretending not to recognize him in the hope he wouldn’t stay long.
“Thaddeus sends his best.” Lom said now, deciding to try another route to get a response from him, “He wasn’t up to coming with me.” he continued, “He’s still far from well himself.” Lom allowed a pensive frown to cross his face as he gazed past Heyes into the distance, pretending to be greatly concerned about him.
Although Heyes wouldn’t look at him, out of the corner of his eye Lom saw a look of concern creep into his eyes and, realizing that he was right about Heyes pretending not to recognize him, decided to push it a bit further. Blinking, as though returning from his thoughts, he shook his head.
“He blames himself for your being here.” he said truthfully, “On top of what happened to Laura … it’s just destroyed him.” When he saw the look of anguish his words had brought to Heyes’ face, he decided to really lay it on, hoping that his words would not only get a response from Heyes, but would make him work hard for the fullest recovery he was able to achieve.
“He thinks he’s ruined your life,” Lom said sadly, “and he can’t handle it. Not on top of losing Laura and the baby like that. He’s just given up. He has no interest in anything.” Lom sighed theatrically, “If you don’t get better ...” Lom gave a helpless shrug, “I don’t know what he’ll do.”
Heyes turned, finally to look at Lom, a mixture of worry and compassion in his eyes, at which point Lom went in for the kill.
Drawing himself up as though he’d temporarily forgotten where he was and who he was talking to he said, “But I shouldn’t be telling you all this.” his tone apologetic, “You’ve got enough on your plate already.” He sighed heavily, “You probably don’t even know what I’m talking about.” he added, wondering if that was true. He might know who he and the Kid were but that didn’t mean he would remember all the events of the last few weeks. He was surprised when Heyes nodded.
“You do?” he asked, genuinely surprised. The doctor had said that it was probable he’d lost chunks of his memory and that it could take months, years even, to recover them, if at all.
“Oh, I feel even worse now for telling you.” Lom lied, “Just forget I said anything. It’s not as bad as I made it sound. I’m sure he’ll be fine, in time.”
Doctor Deveraux left them then, chuckling to himself as he went. That guy Trevors sure was a smart one. If what he’d said was even half true, he would expect Joshua to be inspired to push on with his recovery.
“The doctor tells me you should be able to use your hand again soon.” Lom said after Doctor Deveraux had left.
Heyes shrugged.
“Don’t let me stop you exercising.” Lom told him, “You carry on. I’ll sit and watch.”
Heyes continued with his exercises for another half an hour, by which time it was time for afternoon tea, which everyone had daily at 3.00pm, staff and patients alike.
The orderly invited Lom to have some coffee, which he accepted. He stayed with Heyes for another half an hour afterwards, asking him questions about his treatment which Heyes answered with a nod or shake of his head, making no attempt to speak to him. He then bid him farewell, promising to visit again in three week’s time, before going back to Doctor Deveraux’s office.
“Was all that you said to him back there true?” the doctor asked as Lom said down by his desk.
“Pretty much.” Lom replied, “Although I did lay it on a bit.” he admitted, “Joshua tried to pretend he didn’t know who I was, but I know he recognized me, I saw it in his eyes, and I wanted to get a response from him.”
“I gathered that.” said the doctor, “He’s working very hard already, but I’m sure what you said will spur him on.”
“I hope so.” said Lom.
‘They’re good friends? Joshua and … Thaddeus? Did you say that was his name?”
​
Lom nodded. “Yes. Very. They grew up together. They’re like brothers.” Lom went on to tell the doctor about the Kid’s relationship with Laura, her murder and the effect it had on the both of them, although he didn’t mention the part about the men believing him to be Kid Curry, saying merely that the men were drunken outlaws who had tried to take their supplies. Indeed that explanation was looking more and more like the truth since he’d received a wire from the Sheriff Jackson in Cheyenne, ten days after their return to Porterville, saying that none of the men had yet returned to claim the reward money.
“That’s why Thaddeus blames himself for what happened to Joshua.” said Lom, “He thinks if it hadn’t been for him going to pieces over Laura and the baby’s murder, Joshua would never even have been staying at my place and so wouldn’t have got hurt.”
“It’s an understandable reaction.” said the doctor.
“Yeah.” sighed Lom, “His self worth was already low because of what happened to Laura and the baby. This just finished him off. He’s beginning to get over it a bit now, mainly since I told him Joshua is beginning to make some progress. I think he’d got visions of him being helpless, like he was right after the operation, for the rest of his life and he couldn’t cope with it. He’s started to perk up a bit now, but I wasn’t going to tell Joshua that.”
The doctor grinned. “For a Sheriff you’re a very devious person.”
“I meet a lot of devious people in my line of work.” smiled Lom, “I guess some of it’s rubbed off.”
​
The Kid seemed pleased that Heyes was continuing to make good progress. While Lom had been away, he’d gone out and got himself a job as a handyman for a local farmer that Lom knew named Clem Baxter. The job, the Kid informed him, included room and board.
“But you have a room here.” said Lom.
“I know.” said the Kid, “But I feel guilty living off you, and in any case, I want to pay you back for Heyes’ treatment, so I need to earn some money.”
“You don’t have to move out to do that.” Lom told him.
“I know.” the Kid nodded, “But I could use the break. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.” he added hastily, seeing Lom’s injured look, “I just think that… a change of scene… would do me good. Here… everything’s too close… do you know what I mean?”
Lom nodded. “I understand.” he told him, “If that’s what you feel you have to do, it’s fine with me. But if you want to come back, don’t stand on ceremony. My door is always open.”
“I know.” the Kid gave him a brief smile, “Thanks.”
And so the Kid moved out to the Baxter’s farm a couple of days later and Lom didn’t see him for over a week. He called in the following weekend looking well after working outside all week, his hair bleached even fairer than normal by the sun, and his face tanned, emphasizing the clear blue of his eyes. Lom could still see grief lurking in their depths, but it was obvious he was making progress towards coming to terms with his losses.
“How’s it going?” Lom asked him as he poured them two glasses of scotch.
“O.K” said the Kid, “It’s hard work, but I’m finding it … therapeutic.”
“You look well.” Lom nodded, as he handed him his glass and sat down opposite him, “How’s Clem?”
“Fine. He sends his regards. But he sure needs help on that farm. His arthritis is playing him up something awful and he can’t do all of the heavy work alone.”
“So, you can have the job for as long as you like?” said Lom.
“I guess.” The Kid’s expression clouded.
“It’s a good place to hide out.” Lom told him, “There’s no worries about getting recognized there.”
“True.” replied the Kid.
“In fact, you could have a job there for life.” said Lom.
“I guess I could.” said the Kid, “If I wanted it.”
“You don’t?” questioned Lom.
The Kid shrugged. “I don’t know... It all depends on Heyes. On how long he’s gonna be at that place … on what sort of life he’ll be able to have…” he trailed off with a haunted look in his eyes, and Lom knew he still blamed himself for Heyes’ condition.
“Well at least you don’t have to make any hasty decisions.” He told him.
“No.” agreed the Kid.
“Listen, I’m going to visit again him next week. Want to come?”
The Kid stiffened and shook his head.
“Sure?” asked Lom, “I’m sure it would perk him up.”
“Not yet.” the Kid replied hoarsely.
Lom sighed “O.K.”
They changed the subject then and chatted a while longer before the Kid headed back to the farm. Lom didn’t see him again before he left to visit Heyes the following weekend.
Heyes acknowledged him verbally on this occasion, although his speech was stilted and he gave only the briefest responses in their conversations. He did however ask him why the Kid wasn’t with him.
“I tried to get him to come today, but he wouldn’t.” Lom admitted sheepishly, “Maybe next time.”
Heyes nodded, his expression crestfallen.
Lom spoke to Doctor Deveraux about it later, in his office.
“Grief can last a long time, and manifest itself in very strange ways.” The doctor told him, “Given the manner of the death of his wife and child, only a few weeks before Joshua getting hurt, it’s understandable that he’s acting irrationally. I wouldn’t try and push him too hard.”
“I’m not.” said Lom, “But I think it would do both of them good for him to come here.”
​
The Kid paid Lom a visit two days after he returned from visiting Heyes, when Lom told him of his continuing improvement.
“That’s good.” said the Kid
“He wants to see you.” Lom told him, “He asked me to bring you next time.”
“I’ll see.” The Kid was evasive. “There’s a lot to do on the farm.”
“Oh, come on Kid.” Lom snapped in exasperation, “It’s been three months. Is it because you feel it was your fault? Because it wasn’t, and you have to stop blaming yourself for it. Heyes doesn’t, and he wants to see you.”
“It’s not just that…” the Kid said gruffly, “I can’t bear to see him… like that…”​
“Like what?” asked Lom.
“Helpless... crippled...” the Kid began.
“He’s not helpless,” Lom cut in, “and if he has his way he won’t be crippled either. He’s working really hard and making good progress. I think he was embarrassed to see me the first time I went there, but he’s over that now and he’s keen to show well he’s doing. It’ll be good for him to see you. And good for you too.” he added.
“I can’t.” The Kid sounded tortured.
“And what do you suggest I tell him when he asks where you are?” snapped Lom.
The Kid shrugged. “Say I’m busy with Clem at the farm.”
“He may be sick, but he’s not stupid.” growled Lom, “He won’t believe that and you know it. Come on, Kid, behave like a man. Face up to your feelings. You can’t run away forever and the longer you leave it the harder it’ll get.”
The Kid jumped to his feet.
“I said I can’t go.” he shouted at Lom, “Stop trying to make me feel guilty and just… leave me alone.” Turning on his heel he slammed out of the cabin leaving Lom with a look of confusion on his face.
​
* * *
​
When the time came for Lom to visit Heyes again, he still hadn’t heard from him. He contemplated going over to the Baxter’s farm to see him but decided against it. Once the Kid dug his heels in, it was impossible to move him. Trying to reason with him would only antagonize him further. Better to leave him to come to his senses on his own.
When he arrived at the Institute, he discovered that Heyes had been making his first attempts at walking with the aid of crutches, hoping to wean himself from those onto sticks and then, eventually, for him to walk unaided. But the process would take some time.
When Doctor Deveraux took him out to see him Lom thought Heyes looked a little drained, but the doctor had said he had been putting every ounce of effort into trying to walk and so it was understandable that he should be a little tired. He was back in his wheelchair today, and gave Lom a cheery smile as he sat down by him.
“I hear you’re back on your feet.” said Lom.
Heyes nodded. “It’s not… easy... though.” he replied, his speech still slightly stilted.​
“I know, but you’ll get there.” smiled Lom.
Heyes shrugged, obviously not satisfied with his efforts.
“Where’s… the Kid?” he asked.
Lom sighed, giving him a resigned look.
“He wouldn’t come.” he told him. When Heyes made no comment he said, “I know he wants to, but... He blames himself for what happened to you, and he thinks you’ll hate him.” Lom didn’t tell him what he said about not wanting to see him crippled.
‘That’s… crazy.”
“I know.” said Lom, “I’m afraid I got a little mad with him and told him to be a man and face up to his feelings. He got mad and stormed out. I haven’t seen him in over two weeks.” He sighed, “I’m sure he’ll get over it in time. But you know how stubborn he can be. It’s no use trying to reason with him when his mind’s set. He has to work it out for himself. Don’t take it to heart.” he added, seeing Heyes’ disappointed look.
Lom continued to visit Heyes every three weeks over the next few months, and he continued to make good progress. Heyes asked several times when the Kid was going to visit, but eventually stopped asking, although Lom could see the disappointment in his eyes each time he saw him arrive alone.
After the day Lom had snapped at him, the Kid kept well out of his way, and Lom had to go over to the Baxter’s farm if he wanted to see him, which he did every couple of weeks, or else go to the Saloon on a Saturday night, which the Kid had taken to doing lately. He was civil to Lom, but distant, asking only the briefest of questions about Heyes, nodding politely to Lom’s answers. Lom didn’t ask him to visit Heyes, knowing what his response would be, and the Kid never offered.
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