Retribution
​
- 5 -
​
The next morning, Curry went into town to fetch groceries, and to stop off at the saloon for a drink. Lom, who had taken a couple of days off work to help look after Heyes, went into the bedroom to collect the breakfast tray that Curry had earlier taken in.
As he entered the room, Heyes appeared to be reading a book, but Lom could tell he was just staring vacantly at the pages, his mind elsewhere.
"Hi." Lom smiled, crossing the room and sitting down on a chair by the bed, "How are you feeling today?"
Heyes closed the book and shrugged. "O.K... I guess …." he sighed, fiddling with the corners of the book cover, "…I don’t know."
"I understand what you’re going through." Lom told him, "It’ll pass. Just give yourself a little time."
Heyes twiddled his thumbs nervously, avoiding Lom’s gaze, and Lom suddenly understood what Curry had been trying to say the previous night. This wasn’t the Hannibal Heyes he knew. The one who never let any problem get him down, who would move heaven and earth to achieve any desired goal, who spat in the face of adversity. He was fighting a battle with himself, but he didn’t seem to know what the battle was and, worse still, Lom had the feeling he was losing.
"You’re doing fine." he told him, "Even though you might not think so right now."
Heyes shook his head, "You always could see right through me, couldn’t you Lom?"
Lom laughed. "I’ve known you a long time." he said, patting his shoulder, "We’re alike in a lot of ways, you and I." he continued, "We see things the same way. Most of the time." he added with a smile, remembering their frequent disagreements over the amnesty, "We feel things the same way. That’s why I understand how you’re feeling now."
Heyes shook his head, "You couldn’t… no-one could." He turned his anguished gaze to Lom’s now, "I feel so…" he trailed off, unable to find the words to describe his feelings.
"Angry?… Humiliated?… Defeated ?… Inadequate?" Lom suggested.
Heyes raked a hand through his hair, nodding, "But… I’m lucky to have escaped with my life… I should be over the moon… but… I just… feel so… so …" he shook his head, trying without success to find a way to explain, "I hate myself… you… everyone." he continued presently, "I don’t understand why… and I can’t seem to get myself out of it."
"There’s a lot of words to describe how you feel." said Lom, "What it comes down to is that you were pushed to the limit of your endurance, and beyond. It scars you emotionally, upsets the balance of your mind. It’s going to take a while, but you will get over it. The main thing is not to worry. You feel angry and hurt and humiliated, with good reason. That makes you resentful, that’s only natural. You feel confused, that’s to be expected. Your moods will swing from one extreme to the other, but it’s just your body’s way of dealing with what happened. You’ll be restless one minute, exhausted the next, happy one minute, down the next, but, if you just let the feelings come and go, work your way through them, you’ll be fine. And don’t be afraid to ask if you need help, or if you want to talk. We’ll be here." He bent to look at Heyes, whose head was bowed.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he enquired.
Heyes shook his head. He couldn’t talk about it. Not yet. He’d only just recovered all the memories of it himself, and it was too painful to even think about, let alone discuss.
"O.K." Lom didn’t push it, "Well, I hope it’ll help you understand what’s happening to you, and to come to terms with it."
Heyes swallowed, feeling strangely emotional. He nodded, turning to gaze out of the window, his eyes moist.
Lom looked at his pocket watch, "I have some chores to do. I’ll see you later, O.K? Call if you need anything." Lom got to his feet, and, patting Heyes’ shoulder, left the room.
Heyes gazed out of the window for some time, trying to put Lom’s words into perspective with what he was feeling.
Angry? Inadequate? Humiliated? Yes, he felt all of those. Angry because they’d got the better of him. Inadequate because he hadn’t been able to save Josie. Humiliated by the treatment they’d inflicted on him and his cowardly reaction to it. When he thought about what they’d done to him, and to Josie, and of how he’d behaved, grovelling, and begging for mercy, he really wished he was dead, and had an almost uncontrollable urge to get his gun, put it to his head and pull the trigger. He shuddered. He was, by nature, a strong willed survivor and he hated himself for being such a coward, and he hated them for making him feel that way. He wished to God he could put it out of his mind. But he couldn’t, and every time he thought about it, the feelings engulfed him once more and he just wanted to die.
Images of the things they’d done to him flashed before his eyes; Felton threatening to kill him if he didn’t walk on his inured leg and shooting him in the shoulder just to prove the point; McKenzie tying him to his horse; Joey sniggering and calling him names; being chained up to their wagon at night like some animal; the beatings and the insults; Felton cutting him with his knife; the men sneering as they’d left him tied to his horse in the sun with no water; Felton kicking him around the floor, trying to force his mouth open to cut out his tongue. He couldn’t believe it had happened and that he had survived it.
Lom’s words echoed in his head. Angry! Humiliated! Defeated! Inadequate!
Tears of self pity spilled over onto his cheeks. He brushed them away angrily, feeling even more humiliated at his emotions getting the better of him. He tried hard to control himself, but the harder he tried, the weaker he felt. All be could think of was the paralysing terror he’d felt when Felton had tried to carry out his threat.
He covered his face with his hands, biting his lip as he tried to control his emotions.
Just then, Lom came back into the room, "Oh, by the way…" he began, but broke off when he saw Heyes sitting with his face in his hands.
"Heyes? What is it?" he asked, sitting down by the bed and putting a hand on his shoulder, worried he was feeling ill.
Heyes shook his head, without removing his hands, "I…"he choked. "I…"
"It’s O.K." said Lom, "Don’t fight it."
Heyes shook his head again.
"Just let it go, Heyes." Lom said gently.
Heyes hadn’t the strength to fight it any longer. He flopped down onto the pillow, folding his arms across it and burying his face in them, letting the tears flow freely.
"They… treated me like… an animal…" he choked, "They were going to…." He broke off, unable to say the words, "If the Kid hadn’t come when he did… Oh God… I was... so… scared…" he broke off, overcome, his shoulders heaving as he sobbed, oblivious to the pains it caused in his injured ribs and shoulder.
Lom gazed at him compassionately, reaching out and patting him gently on the back, as though to sooth away his pain.
Eventually, Heyes managed to compose himself and rolled over onto his back.
"Why do I feel like this?" he croaked, wiping tears off his face with the back of his hand, "I haven’t… cried… in years… it always seemed so... pointless. It never changes anything..." he said, a wistful look on his face.
"It’s your body’s way of coping with everything you’ve been through." Lom told him, "Just let the feelings come and go as they please, all the anger, frustration, humiliation. Don’t fight them. You’ll feel better much more quickly."
"I’m tired." said Heyes, and he looked it.
"You rest a while." said Lom, quietly leaving the room as Heyes drifted off to sleep.
​
* * *
When Curry returned after lunch, Lom was sitting on the front porch puffing on his pipe.
"Hi." He sat on the porch step and put down the bag of groceries, "How’s things?" he asked.
Lom nodded slowly, "Progressing." He muttered between puffs.
"Oh? How?"
"We… er… had a few tears this morning." said Lom.
Curry's mouth fell open in shock, "You’re kidding?" he said finally.
Lom shook his head, "No. We had a little chat earlier, about why he was feeling so down. When I went back later, he was in tears." He looked over At Curry who was looking past Lom with an expression he couldn’t read, shaking his head to himself.
Curry could scarcely believe it. Heyes hadn’t come close to shedding a tear for anything, or anyone, in over twenty years. He must be really shaken up to break down like that, and in front of Lom too. He would rather die than embarrass himself that way. But he’d been on the verge of this for days. Curry had seen the signs, but hadn’t recognized them.
"Was he very upset?" he asked presently.
Lom puffed on his pipe, "Yeah, but it’ll do him good to get it out of his system. Those guys really knocked the stuffing out of him. He’s really screwed up about it all and he needs to get those feelings out, otherwise they’ll destroy him."
"Poor Heyes." Curry muttered, half wishing he’d been there to comfort him, and half glad he hadn’t.
"There’s still a way to go yet. He’s got a lot of things he needs to resolve in his head."
"I guess." Curry sighed, "What’s he doing now?"
"He was sleeping a while ago."
"I’ll put these away and take a look in on him."
Lom nodded. "O.K."
Curry put the groceries away and then went into the bedroom. Heyes was awake and gazing vacantly at the book he’d earlier been reading, lost in thought. He didn’t hear Curry enter and looked up with a startled expression as he spoke to him.
"Hi."
"Hi." Heyes replied, somewhat sharply, returning his gaze to the book.
"How are you feeling?"
"O.K." Heyes replied offhandedly.
Curry frowned at his tone, "Have you tried the crutches yet?" he enquired, just for something else to say.
"No."
"Something wrong?"
Heyes gave him a withering look.
Curry raised his hands in mock defence, "O.K. Stupid question. Want to talk?"
"About what?" Heyes said sourly.
Curry sighed, "Lom told me what happened this morning. I’m sorry I…"
"He what?" Heyes cut in sharply, his voice hard.
"He told me what happened." Curry repeated, confused by Heyes’ outraged reaction.
He was shocked when Heyes angrily hurled the book across the room, "Trust him to go shooting his mouth off." he shouted, a little too loudly, dissolving into a fit of coughing, clutching his painful ribs.
"He’s concerned about you." Curry replied, "We both are."
"Ha!" Heyes grunted, raking his hands through his hair, "I might have known." he said, as much to himself as Curry, "You can never trust a Sheriff to keep his mouth shut."
"Heyes?" Curry was indignant.
"Leave me alone." Heyes snapped, turning away from him.
"But… Heyes…"
"I said, leave me alone!" Heyes shouted, picking up one of his pillows and hurling it at Curry, gasping at the sudden pain that shot through his shoulder and ribs as he did so. He turned away so that Curry wouldn’t see the grimace of pain that crossed his face.
The pillow hit Curry in the chest and fell to the floor. He stared open mouthed at Heyes, before turning on his heel and leaving the room, slamming the door shut.
Lom came in off the porch just as he slammed the door and stood staring at it in bewilderment.
"What’s up?" he asked.
Curry explained what had happened.
"I should have warned you not to let on about that." Lom said, shaking his head, "He’s embarrassed to think you know he was upset. His reaction was predictable.
"But why should he be embarrassed? He’s my closest friend. Hell, he’s seen me through times like that."
"Pride." said Lom, "That’s a good sign. I was worried he was getting too overcome by it all to find anything of himself. It’s good to see him showing a little spirit. I warn you though, he’ll be like this for a while yet, so watch what you say."
"He threw his pillow at me. I’d better go pick it up."
"No." Lom stopped him, "He has others, and if he wants that one he can call one of us, or get it himself. Those crutches are by the bed. It’s about time he started to use them. Don’t make it easy for him"
"Yeah." Curry agreed.
"And he can call for his supper if he’s hungry." Lom added, feeling slightly niggled at Heyes’ inference that he was a gossip.
"Right." said Curry.
Heyes had the last laugh however. He didn’t call for any supper and they didn’t hear a peep out of him for the rest of the evening. When they went to check on him before turning in, they found the pillow still on the floor where it had fallen, and Heyes fast asleep, the lamp still turned up full, a book open on the bed where he’d left it, his blankets, as usual practically on the floor.
"I told you he was a stubborn son-of-a-bitch." Lom whispered with a smile, "Even now, as messed up as his mind is, he still has to have the last word."
Curry stifled a giggle, "I guess so." he whispered, bending to turn the lamp down, but leaving the pillow where it was.
Heyes groaned and Lom and Curry dashed out of the room for fear he would wake and find them there.
They closed the door, giggling like a couple of schoolboys.
Curry had been upset to think of Heyes in tears that morning, but his spirits rose as he thought of his behaviour that evening. Lom was right. He was tough, even if he didn’t know it himself. Even in his confused state, his natural desire to have the last word, to be obstreperous, still hadn’t deserted him.
The next day, Heyes seemed in marginally better spirits, and, now that his shoulder was beginning to heal and he’d regained some of his strength, he decided to try getting up, with the aid of the crutches that the doctor had provided.
Lom and Curry helped him up out of bed and supported him as, overcome by dizziness, after six days in bed, he almost passed out. But after a few minutes the feeling passed and they gave him the crutches. He was a bit unsteady a first, but soon got the hang of it, going out onto the porch and sinking, exhausted, into a chair.
​
* * *
​
Over the next few weeks, Heyes was a nightmare to live with. Still in considerable pain from his injuries, he was, naturally, irritable. His sleep was also regularly disturbed by nightmares about his ordeal, which made him listless and depressed. As he struggled to come to terms with his feelings about what Felton and his men had done to him, and to Josie, his moods changed like the wind. One minute he’d be laughing with them, the next, throwing a fit of temper. Normally genial by nature, with a slow temper, both Lom and Curry were surprised by his sudden harsh words and violent outbursts. Several of Lom’s cups and plates were broken by him when he exploded with fury for no apparent reason, and Curry was stunned when Heyes went for him, physically, one evening, after a harmless, but rather tactless, remark about his kidnap, striking him hard across the face. Curry just stared at him, speechless with a mixture of shock and surprise.
"I’m sorry." said Heyes, catching the look in his partner’s eyes, "I’m sorry, I…." He broke off, and, adjusting his crutches, limped out of the cabin, banging the door shut after him.
Lom blew out his cheeks, "My, my." he muttered.
"This is crazy." Curry rubbed his face, where four red finger marks stood out clearly on his cheek, "I’ve never seen him get violent with anyone, unless he was picked on first."
"That remark was a bit tactless." Lom replied.
"Yeah, maybe. But even so…"
"It’s a touchy area." said Lom, "It’s his way of dealing with his feelings about what they did to him. He feels guilty for being what he thinks of as weak. That makes him angry with himself and he just lashes out. Then he feels guilty about that and is full of remorse. That’s why his moods are so erratic. You’d better not make jokes about what happened unless you want him to wallop you again."
"How can what happened have this terrible effect on him?" asked Curry.
"These new, modern, physicians call it an ‘emotional breakdown’." said Lom, "A person’s system is pushed too far for them to cope with and suffers a total breakdown. I’ve seen it before. It can take a long time to get over. Some people don’t. Heyes needs understanding, not negative reactions. He’s hurt, and confused, and he doesn’t know why, or how to deal with it."
Curry sighed, "I’d better go see if he’s O.K."
He went outside to look for Heyes who had gone over to the corral and was seated on a bale of hay, his face troubled.
"Heyes? You O.K?"
Heyes nodded, not looking at him.
"Don’t get upset. I understand. You didn’t mean it… I hope?" he added, throwing him a questioning glance as he sat down by him.
Heyes shook his head, "I’m sorry." he said, his voice barely audible. He raked a trembling hand through his hair, "I don’t know what comes over me. I don’t want to do these things, but I can’t seem to stop myself."
"I know. Lom’s explained it all to me. I’m sorry about what I said in there. It was uncalled for. It was meant to be a joke, but I should have realised you couldn’t see the funny side right now."
Heyes didn’t reply.
"You’ll feel better when you get that splint off." said Curry.
Heyes nodded, "Yeah. It bothers me… you know… that it might not heal right."
"Sure it will." Curry told him.
"I guess." muttered Heyes, sounding unconvinced.
While they waited for Heyes’ injuries to heal, Curry filled him in on how he’d tracked, and finally caught up with them, following while he tried to figure a way to rescue him.
Heyes listened, but said little in return. Lom was worried he was keeping too much inside. He’d barely spoken a word about what had happened during those five days, despite them trying to get him to open up about it, and there was a haunted look in his eyes that Lom had never seen before.
Finally, Doctor Simpson returned to remove the splint from Heyes’ leg and check on his shoulder and ribs.
Heyes had settled down a bit in the last couple of weeks, but seemed on edge this morning.
"And how are you now?" asked the doctor.
"Fine." Heyes replied, in a tone that told Lom and Curry he was anything but, but the doctor seemed unaware of the tension in his voice.
"Shoulder’s healing nicely." The doctor told him, "So are the ribs."
All the cuts and bruises had disappeared now, save for faint red wheals around his wrists and a faint line where Felton had cut his chin with the knife, but those would fade in time.
The doctor removed the splint and examined the leg.
"Mmm. Seems alright." He looked at Heyes over the top of his glasses, "You were very lucky, young man. I did wonder if it would heal right, it was in such a state when you arrived. You must treat it gently for a while until you get your strength back."
Heyes nodded, "I will."
"Try it." The doctor told him.
Gingerly, Heyes stood up and took his weight on it.
"Well?"
"Feels strange, but it’s O.K."
"You’ve lost some of the strength in your muscles. Get plenty of gentle exercise and it’ll improve over the next couple of weeks or so."
"Thanks, Doc." said Heyes.
The doctor and Lom left the room.
"Come on." said Curry, "Let’s go for a stroll. The sooner you get fit, the sooner we can leave here."
"O.K." said Heyes.
They strolled slowly out the back and into a nearby meadow, Heyes limping slightly.
"How’s it feel?" Curry asked presently.
"Like it don’t belong to me."
"We’d better not go too far." Curry said presently, "The Doc did say ‘gentle’ exercise."
They strolled slowly back, enjoying the afternoon sunshine.
"I’m sorry about the way I’ve behaved these last few weeks." Heyes said suddenly, looking at the ground.
"Don’t apologise. It wasn’t your fault."
"I know… but… it just isn’t like me. I bet Lom’s not too happy about the crockery and stuff I smashed… and then there was the day I hit you."
Curry smiled. "Lom was quite amused. He doesn’t mind a bit. He’d never seen you have fits of temper like that. I think he enjoyed it. I think ‘relieves the monotony’ were his exact words."
Heyes looked embarrassed, "Don’t... I feel awful about it."
"Don’t be silly. We’re just glad you’re O.K. now."
Heyes didn’t reply. They walked a while in silence before Heyes suddenly said, with venom, "If I ever meet those guys again, I’ll kill them, I swear."
Curry looked at him. Heyes wasn’t one for making idle threats, and he could tell from his expression that he meant his words. He just hoped the mood was a passing one.
"It’s not worth it." he told him presently.
"What do you mean?"
"Killing them. It would make you no better than them, and you are. And what about the amnesty? That would be out of the window."
Heyes sighed wearily, "I don’t know." he said, sounding anguished, "I just know I hate them for what they did to me… what they put me through. I may have healed on the outside, but the scars in here will stay with me for a long time." He tapped his temple.
They walked the rest of the way back in silence, each preoccupied with their own thoughts.
Later, while Heyes took a bath, now that he was able to get into the bathtub, Curry told Lom what he had said about killing the men who had abducted him.
"Do you think he meant it?" asked Lom.
"What do you think?" Curry gave him a withering look, "He doesn’t generally make idle threats."
"I know. But he’s still a little unsettled. Perhaps he’ll see things differently when he’s a little more straight in his mind. I can’t believe he’d really do it. It’s against everything he believes."
"He looked pretty serious to me," said Curry, "and I can understand him feeling that way. I saw some of what they did to him, and I’d like to kill the bastards myself."
"‘Like to’, yes, but you wouldn’t do it, surely?"
Curry thought for a moment then shook his head, "No. But then, I wasn’t on the receiving end." He sighed heavily, "I tried to talk him round but…." he shook his head, "I’m afraid of what he might do if we ever run into them again."
"Well, you’re welcome to stay on here if you think Heyes needs more time to get himself together."
"Thanks Lom, but we can’t impose on your hospitality for ever. We need to move on, earn some money."
"Maybe you could find some work in town to tide you over for a while." Lom suggested, "To be honest, I don’t really think Heyes is fit enough yet to leave here either, physically or mentally."
"No." agreed Curry.
Just then, Heyes burst into the room. It was obvious from his expression that he had heard what they’d been saying.
"Would you like me to go out again so you can finish talking about me?" he said with sarcasm. Yet another sign that he wasn’t completely recovered.
"Heyes." sighed Lom, "Don’t get uppity. We were just saying…"
"I heard." Heyes interrupted, his dark eyes like chips of coal.
"We were just trying to decide the best thing to do next." said Curry, "If we can get some work around here, we can stay on for a while. Give you a chance to get fit…"
"There’s nothing wrong with me." snapped Heyes, pouring a cup of coffee and banging the pot down on the stove.
Lom and Curry exchanged glances.
"You’re welcome to stay on here, Heyes. I’m not kicking you out." said Lom, "We were just discussing the options."
"Yeah, I was just saying that it’s not fair for us to keep imposing on Lom’s hospitality." Curry added, as Heyes glared at them, "It can’t be cheap feeding the three of us, and I ran out of cash weeks ago."
Heyes slammed his cup down on the table, its contents slopping over onto the wooden surface.
"We’ll leave in the morning." he snapped, "I don’t want to be a burden on anyone. Least of all you." he snarled at Lom, turning on his heel and heading for the door. Lom caught his arm, "You’re not. Don’t be ridic--" he began, but broke off at the look in Heyes’ eyes as he wrenched free from his grasp.
"Take your hands off me." Heyes said flatly, glaring at him with a fire in his eyes that Lom hadn’t seen for a long time. He would have been pleased if Heyes had been angry for the right reasons, but he knew that it was just another rebellion against his treatment by his captors. A show of pride, and Lom was quite offended by his tone. He dropped his arm and glared back at Heyes.
"Don’t worry. I’ll see you’re reimbursed in full for what I’ve cost you." Heyes hissed at him, leaving the room and slamming the door so hard it shook.
Lom stared at the door in disbelief.
"I’m sorry, Lom." said Curry, mortified by Heyes’ outburst after Lom’s kindness to him, "He had no right to speak to you that way."
Lom sighed, walking over to the stove to pour some coffee, "I shouldn’t be angry. I know why he reacted that way, but, I swear, I don’t know how I kept my hands off him."
"You have every right to be angry." said Curry.
Lom shook his head, "He’s still on edge. Us talking about him behind his back like that upset him. He just over-reacted. He’ll regret it when he’s had time to cool off."
"I don’t care." snapped Curry, "He had no right to speak to you like that. I’ve had enough of all this pussyfooting around in case it upsets him. I’m going to tell him what I think of him."
"No… wait…" Lom began, but Curry had already left the room.
He burst into Heyes’ room, flinging the door open with such force it banged back against the wall.
"You’ve got a nerve." he said to Heyes, who ignored him.
"Kid…" called Lom, but Curry waved him away, "Stay out of this." he told him, closing the door on him.
"Just what the hell is wrong with you?" Curry walked around in front of Heyes, hands on hips.
Still Heyes ignored him, gathering his things together.
Curry grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn round and face him.
"What do you mean by speaking to Lom that way, after all he’s done for us… for you? I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life." he hissed at him.
"Let go of me." snapped Heyes, wrenching his arm free. Since his treatment by Felton’s men, he‘d developed a paranoia about being mauled by people, "What do you mean, going behind my back and telling him what I said about Felton?" he growled, with a look of hatred in his eyes, "That was a private conversation, between us. If I’d wanted him to know, I’d have told him myself. Now he thinks I’m off my head."
"I wonder why?" Curry retorted sarcastically, "Look at you. You’re raving about something totally trivial." He glared into Heyes’ angry gaze, "Yes, I did tell him what you said, because I’m worried what you might do in your present state of mind. And looking at you now I have good reason to be."
"What ‘state of mind’?" sneered Heyes, "You’re starting to sound like him now." He jerked his head in the direction of the other room where they’d left Lom.
Curry sighed, trying to contain his rapidly rising anger.
"You’re still… confused… You’re not thinking rationally…" he began, but Heyes spoke over him.
"My thinking is perfectly rational." he snapped indignantly.
"No. It’s not. If it was, you wouldn’t be talking about killing anyone, especially in cold blood, however angry you were. It’s just not in you."
"Perhaps I’ve changed." said Heyes
"You have. For the worse."
Heyes glared at him, "With good reason" he said flatly.
"Look" said Curry, losing patience with Heyes’ irrational attitude, "all I said was that I was worried about us leaving here in case we ran into Felton and his men and you did something stupid. I think that’s a reasonable concern given our current circumstances. Lom thinks we should stay here a while longer, but I don’t think it’s fair on Lom to live off him. We’ve been here for ages as it is. We need to get some money."
"The government pays him well as a Sheriff. If we have to live off anyone, it might as well be those who are trying to catch us."
Curry stared at him, shocked at the coldness in his voice.
"Lom’s our friend." he said, his tone incredulous, "How can you say that?"
"Friend or not, his money still comes from the government."
"You callous bastard." Curry hissed at him, "There was no call for you to speak that way to Lom. I want you to apologise to him."
Heyes grunted, cynically, turning away to resume his packing, "I have good reason to be callous," he snapped, "and as for apologising… you can go to hell."
Before he could stop himself, Curry swung a punch at Heyes. Heyes staggered back against the wall before angrily swinging a punch back at him, catching him on the cheek. Curry retaliated automatically, without thinking, punching Heyes hard in the stomach and then in the face. Heyes sank to his knees, dazed.
"How dare you..!" Curry hissed, furious now, "What gives you the right to dictate to me, or to Lom, after all we’ve done for you? We’ve been patient with you for far too long." He pointed a finger at him, "You’re turning into a prize bastard, do you know that?" He turned on his heel and strode to the door, pausing to look back at Heyes who was still on his knees, head bowed, one hand bracing himself off the floor while the other clutched his stomach.
"Pull yourself together, Heyes, or you’re on your own. I’ve had it with you." He turned away and slammed out of the room.
Heyes sat back on his heels, gasping for breath, wiping blood off a split lip.
Slowly, his anger subsided, and Curry's words began to hit home. He climbed slowly to his feet and sat on a chair by the open window. He folded his arms on the window ledge, resting his chin on them as he gazed out into the night. The more he thought about it, the worse he began to feel. The Kid had rescued him from that terrible, terrible ordeal, when the odds had been heavily stacked against him. He’d brought him here and he and Lom had nursed him back to health, putting up with his moods and tantrums, and for what? For him to hurt and insult them.
Curry went out to the front porch, where Lom had gone to sit. He rubbed his still smarting cheek, still too angry to have any compassion for Heyes.
"What happened?" asked Lom, noting the redness around his eye. He had heard their raised voices, but hadn’t been able to decipher what was being said.
Curry shrugged, "I said my piece."
Lom raised a sceptical eyebrow, suspecting that more than just words had been exchanged between them.
Curry paced up and down the porch, anger still boiling inside him.
"He’d have realised soon enough he was wrong." Lom told him.
"Aw, he deserved a belting." Curry snapped, "He’s had it coming for a while." he said with uncharacteristic venom.
"Maybe." Lom looked doubtful. It was true Heyes had behaved very badly, but Curry didn’t understand the reasons for it. His physical injuries may have healed, but mentally, he was far from recovered.
"Is he alright?" Lom asked now.
"I don’t know. I didn’t wait to find out."
"Have you done this before?" asked Lom.
"Sure, we argue all the time."
"I mean fight. I’ve never seen you come to blows before."
Curry sighed, letting the anger out of him, "We’ve got pretty mad with each other, but…" He suddenly began to feel guilty. Heyes was older than him, and a lot wiser. Curry had always relied on him to look after him, keep him out of trouble, almost like a substitute Father. Now that his temper was subsiding, he felt bad about laying into him like that. Especially after what he’d already been through.
"Perhaps I shouldn’t have hit him." he said eventually, "He’s been hurt enough already."
"It’s too late now." said Lom, getting up and heading towards the door, "You can’t undo it now. Anyway, as you say, I guess he had it coming."
Curry followed him inside.
"Don’t worry about it." Lom told him, "He’ll survive."
They set about preparing supper and ate alone in the kitchen.
In the bedroom, Heyes was still sitting by the window, deep in thought. His chin still resting on his arms, he gazed out of the window, wondering what to do. He felt awful about the things he’d said, to Lom, and to the Kid. He knew he ought to apologise, but his newly regained sense of pride got in the way.
He wanted so much to appear strong and tough after all these weeks as an emotional wreck, but his friends meant more to him, and he’d wronged them both.
He sighed. Maybe he should just leave, sneak out in the middle of the night, then he wouldn’t have to face them. But that was a coward’s way out, and he was sick of acting like one. Anyway, he didn’t want to be on his own. He’d felt so desperately alone while Felton had held him prisoner. He didn’t want to feel that way again, ever.
Gradually, his eyelids drooped, and he fell asleep where he sat.
"Do you suppose he’s O.K?" Curry asked, some time later,"I hope I didn’t hurt him." he said, remembering the doctor’s advice for him to take things easy, "He only got the splint of his leg this morning, he could have damaged it again or…"
"Shall I go see?" asked Lom.
"No… yes… oh, I don’t know."
Lom got up and went into the bedroom. The room was in darkness. Lom could just about make out Heyes’ shape at the window. He walked quietly over to him. He was sitting with his head on his arms, his eyes closed.
"Heyes?" Lom whispered, suddenly gripped with a fear that he might be hurt, or worse.
Heyes did not stir. Lom bent closer and listened for a moment. His breathing seemed normal enough. He didn’t disturb him, but crept out again, satisfied he was alright.
"Well?" asked Curry"
"He’s O.K." said Lom, "Fell asleep where he sat."
​
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