Bustin' Out

Admin Posts : 8858 Join date : 2013-08-24

Your prompt for June is

Bustin' Out.

Feel free to give us your most imaginative and engaging take on it between 4,000 and 150 words. I'll look forward to reading them.

Subject: Re: Bustin' Out Fri Jun 04, 2021 8:42 pm

A Box For A Birthday

Hannibal Heyes lay awake in his bed in the semi-darkness. The only light illuminating the room was from the half moon shining through the hotel window. His thoughts were centered on the softly snoring form in the bed across from his. Jed ‘Kid’ Curry’s birthday was coming up and he wanted to get him something nice.

Times had been hard since they’d started their quest for amnesty almost two years ago. Money stayed scarce and more than once he’d thought about giving up. But it was his cousin that kept him going when he dropped into the dark part of his mind. He knew without a doubt that if he slipped and gave in once again to the temptation of easy money, Kid would follow him. And he couldn’t do that to him. He wanted nothing more than to give his cousin the life he deserved. A happy, carefree, life where he could marry and have a family if he wanted.

As it stood right now however, he couldn’t give him that. So, he lay, staring out the window into the night thinking. The gift should come from money he had earned for himself, for a job he completed alone. Wouldn’t mean as much if he used money Kid had helped earn and was therefore half his. Just didn’t seem right. There was something special out there he could get his partner. He just had to find it. And also find a way to pay for it.

—————

They were currently resting up from a short cattle drive, picking a larger town with an unknown sheriff at the jail to spend a few days.

Sitting on the porch of the hotel in rocking chairs, Heyes scanned the newspaper he’d picked up in the cafe at breakfast while Kid lazily rocked smoking a cigar.

“Anythin’ interestin’ in that paper? Seems like you’re studyin’ it awful hard.”

“Nothing much. Somebody stole another goat from some farm around here. Apparently it’s a crime spree. Sixth goat to be stole in a week and a half. Then some chickens and ducks been busting out of another farm. Guy’s asking people to be on the lookout for them. Reward on their heads are a penny a piece. Must be some special birds.”

“What’s this world comin’ to? Bounties on chickens. ‘Get yer wings up where I see ‘em!’ Can you see some bounty hunter chasin’ chickens and ducks all over the place?”

“Better than them chasing us.”

Curry chuckled and went back to people watching, especially people of the female sort going in and out of the stores across the street.

Heyes was actually more interested and thoroughly reading the want ads looking for some small job he could do discreetly to make a little money. He and his cousin always split their poker winnings so that money was also dismissed as being an acceptable way to pay. Finally, he stifled a grin behind the paper as he found the perfect job that would be easily done stealthily. Kid would never know about it if he pulled it off successfully.

———————

That evening after dinner, the partners were spending time in the saloon. Kid had found himself a well endowed, voluptuous little blond in a very revealing red and black dress and was currently upstairs. Heyes had ventured to the bar after a short poker game in which he made sure not to win too much. He ordered a beer.

“Maybe you can help me. I’m looking for some information,” he said as the beer was placed in front of him. The bartender’s eyebrows rose.

“Depends on what kind of information ya want. I ain’t no snitch if’n ya looking fer somebody.”

Heyes took a drink. “Well, I am looking for somebody but it’s about a job I saw in the paper. You know where I could find a man named Nathan Bixby?”

“You’re in luck mister. That’s him over there at the table beside the wall having himself a sandwich.” The bartender pointed to an older man in a grey hat.

“Thank.” Heyes laid a dime on the bar and walked over. “Mr. Bixby?”

The man looked up and with a wad of sandwich in one side of his mouth, asked, “Yeah? Whatcha needing young man?”

“I wanted to enquire about that work ad you places in the paper.”

“Enquire?”

“Talk to you about it,” Heyes said smiling amiably.

“Oh. Well sit yourself down here then.”

Heyes pulled out a chair and sat his beer on the table. “What exactly is the job? The ad only said you needed a man for a couple of days for an overnight job and that you’d pay twenty dollars. That’s quite a payday for a couple nights work.”

“Well,” Bixby swallowed another mouthful, “I’m pretty well set up. I took myself a trip a few days ago to see my brother in California. He gave me a few things I’d like to keep in one of them locked up boxes in a bank. Don’t trust this bank here on account of it’s been robbed a few times.”

Heyes squirmed just a bit in his seat but hid it with a drink of beer.

“Ain’t nothing real valuable. Another big bite was pushed into his jaw as he spoke. “Just some old family things handed down through the years. Anyway, I wanted me somebody to watch over my house at night while I’s gone. Them neighbors of mine ain’t too friendly and I don’t trust ‘em at all. Sneaky dern rats wouldn’t try nothing during the day on account of my house being just outside town. But they a bunch of heathens come nightfall. Drinking and carrying on. Nope. Don’t trust ‘em as far as I could throw ‘em.”

‘This man is a talker’ thought Heyes with a small grin. “Well sir, I’d be happy to take that job. Just two days is it?”

“Yep.”

The sandwich was finally gone thankfully. It made Heyes think of Kyle and his ever present wad of tobacco. Except it was drool escaping the corner of the man’s mouth, not brown nastiness.

“Well, I’d say you’ve found your man, that is if you’ll hire me.”

“Young man, I’m glad I finally found somebody willing to do it. And from the look of that tied down gun, you’re more than able. Start tomorrow at midnight. That’s usually when the neighbors get downright rowdy ‘cause that’s when they usually drag themselves in from the saloon liquored up good. Did I tell you they was heathens?”

Heyes stood smiling and offered the man his hand. “Yes you did. Thank you, Mr. Bixby. I won’t disappoint you.”

Bixby shook his hand. “Better not. Anything goes missing, I’s be holding you responsible.”

“I understand.” Heyes nodded and headed off to find another poker game.

————————

Heyes very silently crept from the hotel room at 11:30 the next night. Being an ex-thief came in handy once again. He was glad that he usually slept the lighter of the two of them. Very rarely was he able to sneak away from his cousin at night, but luck was with him. He would always return just before dawn to undress and get in his bed, leaving his clothes and hat in the exact same position he’d had them the night before.

The job turned out to be really easy. All he had to do was sit on the porch and patrol the perimeter around the house every hour. His chronic insomnia helped him to stay awake. It was actually pleasant to him sitting out overnight. Scooted back against the wall of the house on the porch, he was virtually invisible to anyone, even if they looked directly in his direction so he felt partially safe. He watched the stars creep their way across the sky, trying to imagine pictures by connecting the different colored spots of light close to each other, only for them to disappear in the growing dawn. Crickets and frogs sung their nightly melody with occasional accompaniment by an owl or two. He’d study the moon, looking at all the darker spots on the surface, wondering what could be there, and wishing he could walk on the surface to investigate and see what he might find.

————————

The two nights passed quickly and thankfully, Kid never knew he was gone, although the dark circles under his eyes and head resting on his hand brought suspicion.

“You look more tired than usual, Joshua,” Kid said between bites of biscuit and gravy. “Ain’t you been sleepin’ none at all?”

“You know me. I like to read and think at night. It’s when I do it best.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to tell me that. I know because of all the times you’ve woke me up with some crazy scheme you’ve concocted.”

Heyes smirked as he drunk his coffee. “Well they worked!” Then under his breath, “Most of the time…”

Curry hid a grin. He’d heard the muttered confession but said nothing.

Heyes pushed his plate back. “That’s all I can hold. Unlike you, my stomach isn’t a bottomless pit.”

Now it was Curry’s turn to smirk. However, he did reach out to pull his cousin’s leftovers next to his own plate. Heyes’ expression grew into a crooked grin. “Shut up. No sense lettin’ food go to waste.”

The dark haired partner drained the rest of his coffee, wiped his mouth, and stood up, dropping his half of the amount of the check onto the table. “I’ll meet you at the livery. Going to go pick up what supplies we need at the general store.

“Okay.”

“Don’t lick the plate clean.”

“Gonna throw the plate at you if you don’t shut up.”

Giving Curry another crooked, cocky grin, he left.

———————

Heyes sat all the supplies on the counter, scooting them to one side, and told the clerk he needed to get one more thing before he paid. He walked around the store slowly after examining all the things at, and behind, the counter. He sighed, thinking he wouldn’t find anything when he finally saw it. Back in one corner of the store sat the perfect item. He knew it the second he laid his eyes on it. Happily, he left the store, supplies and a very special item in tow.

Curry looked at the box when Heyes met him at the livery.

“What’s in that?”

“This box?” He climbed up in his saddle after securing the box behind it. “The store ran out of bags so put the rest of the stuff in this box.”

Kid looked at him with a cocked eyebrow. “Well why not just put the stuff in our saddlebags so you ain’t luggin’ that thing around behind you?”

“I figured when we stopped to camp for the night, we could use it to start a fire.”

Kid nodded and they rode out.

———————

Later that evening, as they sat around the campfire playing blackjack, Kid made an observation. “I noticed you didn’t throw that box in the fire. Got it settin’ on your bedroll. You gettin’ attached to it?”

“Nope.” Heyes reached over and brought the box next to him. “It’s for you.”

Kid looked at him with an odd expression. “You got me…a box?”

A large dimpled grin appeared. “Yep. Happy birthday, Jed!”

Curry developed his own smile at that moment. “You remembered! I hadn’t even given it a thought.”

“Been keeping up with the date by reading newspapers.”

Kid gave him a fond smile as he took the box his partner handed him. When he opened it, however, his expression turned to one of surprise. He looked up at eyes that were flickering different shades of brown in the fire light. “How did you get this? We didn’t have the money for somethin’ like this. Did you steal it?”

Heyes looked affronted. “No! I didn’t steal it! I…sneaked out of the hotel a couple of nights to do a job to get the money.”

“You did?” Kid was shocked he’d slept through that. “I can’t believe…you did that for me?”

A dark head just nodded sheepishly.

Kid was touched even more at finding out how Heyes had afforded his gift. He carefully lifted a brown, floppy hat with a silver and turquoise studded band out of the box. He examined it thoroughly and his face clearly showed how much he liked and appreciated his new headwear. He tried it on and it fit perfectly. He looked up to meet brown eyes as he softly said, “Thank you, Han. I love it. But you shouldn’t have went out and worked all night for me. I’d have been happy with a single piece of candy.”

“Well look back down in the box.”

Curry did and found a bag full of peppermint candy. His eyes lit up again making him look younger as he plucked a piece out and plopped it in his mouth. He then offered one to Heyes.

“No thanks. It’s yours. Besides…,” He dug a small bag out of his jacket pocket. “I got myself some spearmint.”

The blond fast draw laughed. “What do you think I should do with my old hat? It still looks good. I take care of them unlike some people.”

“Cut two holes in it and let your horse wear it.”

A small rock was thrown across the campfire. “You’re a little weird you know that?”

“Nope. I’m normal. It’s the rest of the world that’s weird.”

Kid snorted and took his new hat off to look it over again. He was as thrilled as a five year old at Christmas, and he looked like it as well.

——————

A couple of hours later, after many hands of blackjack and half the bag of peppermint now empty, both lay down for the night. After so much lost sleep in the last two nights, Heyes uncharacteristically fell asleep pretty quickly. Now it was Curry lying on his back, his fingers intertwined over his abdomen, looking up at the sparkling night sky thinking. He turned his head to look at his cousin on the other side of the fire and gave a heartfelt smile. His new hat lay beside him. Finally, he turned on his side and went to sleep. And at some point during the night, his hand unconsciously roamed around and found the hat, his fingers curling around the stampede string.

Subject: Re: Bustin' Out Wed Jun 09, 2021 11:47 pm

Bustin’ Out

Stealthily, thirteen-year-old Han Heyes slipped out of the upstairs older boy's dormitory at the Valparaiso School for Wayward Boys. The dreary nighttime hallways were dimly lit with just enough light to maneuver, without wasting fuel oil. Making no noise, he crept downstairs into the younger boy’s dorm and stepped inside the door. He stood still, letting his eyes adjust to the one dim lamp left on in the corner so the younger boys wouldn’t get scared.
He identified his younger cousin, Jedidiah Curry’s bunk in the back, fourth from end, and made his way there. One step, stop and listen. Another step, then listen to make sure no boy stirred.
Bending over his cousin’s lower bunk, Heyes watched him sleep. Gramma Curry would have called it the sleep of the innocent.
Han closed his eyes raking a breath to calm his racing heart. Then, he reached over and at the same time put one hand over Jed’s mouth and with the other grabbed his right hand as it reflexively reached for the homemade slingshot laying by his side. When Han was sure that Jed was awake, he released his arm and his mouth and put his fingers to his lips to shish his cousin.
Jed smiled with blue trusting eyes and slipped into his pants Han handed him. Then, the cousins fled the dorm quietly. Wondering where they were going, Jed knew it didn’t matter, he would follow Han wherever he led.
Jed kept watch while Han opened the back kitchen door with a handmade lockpick. Outside, the air smelled better to them; it smelled of freedom.
“We bustin’ out, Han?”
By moonlight, Jed could see Han’s smile. The smile that told him they were in the middle of a Hannibal Heyes adventure.
“Not tonight. Come on, I got something else in mind.” Han said as he raced for the lemon trees growing in back of the school.
Jed followed, reaching the trees first. “What’s the plan?”
“We’re going to bust into the guest house.”
“On no, Han. The nuns that arrived tonight are staying there. I ain’t stealing nothing from nuns.”
“Don’t worry, we ain’t going near the sleeping quarters. Now shish.” Han again held his finger to his lips. Jed did as he was told.
Han circled the guesthouse, looking in the windows to get his bearings. When he found what he was looking for, he handed Jed a small candle and a match. Jed’s eyes grew bigger and more blue at the forbidden objects and held them protectively.
Trying a window, Han smiled over his shoulder at Jed as he found it unlocked. He slid it up painfully slow, stopping at every creak and squeak. When it was open enough, he pulled himself through the window, motioning Jed to follow.
Han stood very still as his eyes adjusted to the moonlight that gave the room a vague haze. Jed did the same. When he could make out a row of tables, stacked with clothes, Han nodded his head to Jed and moved forward.
“Han?” whispered Jed. “What are we doing here?”
Suddenly, a bright lamp was lit in front of them. “That’s what I would like to know.” demanded the nun standing, hands on hips in front of the boys. “What are you boys doing in here?”
Jed took two steps back, but Han walked toward the nun, forcing a smile onto his nervous face. “Han Heyes, Sister. This is my cousin, Jedidiah Curry.” he extended his hand not sure if sisters were allowed to shake hands.
“Sister Julia,” she said amused, shaking the extending hand. “And you have not answered my question.”
Han eyed his objective, the stack of clothes on the table. “Well, Sister, my cousin there is bustin’ out of his pants. I thought we’d come in here and see what was donated.”
Sister Julia looked from one to the other. “And figuring you’d get the pick of the clothes before we distribute them tomorrow?”
Han did not answer.
“Come here, Jed.” Sister Julia said firmly, pointing to a spot right in front of her.
Jed looked at Han then at the scary figure in front of him. If he could have run, he would have.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Sister studied the pants that ended far above his ankles. She saw the places where the cloth was so thin that the pants would rip with any pressure. She saw the many patches on the knees and bottom that were sewn on with long, uneven stitches.
“Who patches your britches, Jed?”
She marveled at the color of the deep blue eyes that Jed flashed at Han. She knew who had tried to patch the pants. “Han patches them?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Is this your only pair of pants, Jed?” He looked down ashamed of the pants and the fact that he did not even have a pair of Sunday pants.
Han stepped up next to him. “Yes, Sister, he ain’t got no other. That’s why I patch them.”
“Surely the school has other donated pants you could have?”
Han hesitated. He knew that the headmaster sold any clothes that were donated in good shape, keeping the older rags for the boys. He was unsure how much he should tell this nun; unsure how much he could tell her and not get a beating.
Sister Julia had been a teacher for years, and she knew children, especially boys. She was the oldest of nine and the only girl in her family. She knew Han was hiding something. Her superiors had heard rumors before they came here of administration working for their own best and not the best of the boys.
“Boys, if I ask you a question, would you answer it honestly?” she asked, looking at each of them in their eyes, catching their full attention.
Jed said nothing, he had been taught nuns were to be respected always.
Han was quiet then replied, “I suppose it would depend on the question.”
Sister smiled, “Thank you for your honest answer.”
“Come here, sit down back here. I was spending some quiet time reading. I couldn’t sleep and my reading light would have woken the others. They followed her to two chairs set up behind the table. Jed’s eyes fixed on the untouched sweet roll on a plate.
“Go ahead, Jed, eat the sweet roll, I can tell you are the kind that is always hungry.”
It was not necessary to ask Jed twice, he grabbed the plate. Thinking for a moment, he offered some to Han who refused.
“What will happen if you boys are caught here?”
Han took a breath. Jed stopped eating. Surprising his cousin, Jed answered truthfully. “I’ll get a beating. Han will get a beating and have to spend time in the dark room.” He took a bite and smiled, happy for a few moments.
Sister Julia studied Han watching Jed. Han was pleased to see Jed happy. She thanked God these two had each other.
“Han, why did you break in here to get pants for Jed? Won’t the headmaster distribute them tomorrow? That's what we were told.”
Han knew this adult would turn them in. He knew a beating was already in their future and a few days in the dark room for him. Nothing was going to change that.
Sister Julia could almost see Han’s thought process as she waited, letting him come to his own conclusions.
“Well, maybe, they might get distributed tomorrow if you all stay and watch.” That much truth would not make their beatings worse. Han looked at Jed, so happy with his sweet roll, not listening to what they were saying.
“Sister, when you tell on us, please only tell on me. Don’t say nothing about Jed being here.” Han pleaded, “Please.”
She was stunned. She saw fear in his eyes, for himself but more for his cousin.
“I try always to tell the truth.” she answered.
“Well, this would be the truth, just not all the truth.”
“Are you Catholic, Han?”
Jed looked up at her, “No, Ma’am, were Kansans.”
Purposefully, she changed the subject. “Tell me what happens to donated clothes, Han” she asked again.
Deciding to trust her, Han looked her in the eyes and explained. “Well, if the donors stay, they get to watch them being distributed. When they leave, we turn them in and never see them again. I think they are sold.”
Sister Julia was quiet, the rumors her order had heard confirmed.
“Thank you, Han, for telling me the truth even though it has consequences for you. Now, I have another question for you. Why were you here to get Jed new pants? Surely the staff would notice, and they would be taken from him.?”
“Wasn’t gonna steal a pair of pants for him,” Hannibal answered. “Was gonna steal a pair in good shape that I can use to patch the ones he’s wearing better. He keeps growing really fast and bustin’ out of them. I can’t do nothing about the length, but I can make sure he don’t have holes you can see through.”
Sister Julia liked this clever boy and said another prayer his cleverness would not send them down the wrong path in life.
“Jed, take off those pants. Han, go pick out a pair of pants with good strong fabric. I’ve got my mending basket here. I’m going to show you how to make them longer and sew proper patches.”
The boys didn’t move, just stared at her.
“Move. We’ve got to finish this quickly so you boys can get back to your beds before they find you’re gone.”
Han and Jed looked at Sister Julia, "You're not going tell on us?" asked Han.
"What would I say? When I was sleepwalking I gave sewing lessons? Who would believe me?"

Posts : 70 Join date : 2018-09-14

After I started a storyline with female Heyes, which turned out way better than expected, the thought wouldn’t leave me if it was possible to write a story with almost ASJ feeling featuring a female Kid Curry. I apologize to everyone concerned, and promise it’s unlikely you will see more of it.

-o-o-o-

There she was: beautiful as a spring day and dangerous as a death wish. I hadn’t seen her in years. We’d split up when I started to ... discover my manhood. With my looks I had a lot of opportunity, and I took what was offered willingly. She told me I was stupid and reckless, trusting anyone with a pretty face. I saw no bad in that, seeking comfort and relief with every soft-curved body and tender hands available. Heck, I was so needy that time that it didn’t matter to me who I was with. My key to success was a blend of appreciative glances wandering back and forth, a bit of inviting body language, finished off with my most brilliant dimpled smile. It always worked in my favor, and bought me more than one sweaty night of pleasure. In the morning we would part and never see each other again. Easy as that. But not for the Kid.

She was a marks(wo)man already, married to that old gun of hers. She was good, too good. She killed her first man when she was 16, a nasty guy by the name of Hank Plots. He was forcing his attention on her, and one night in a back alley, she shot him in the gut and called it self-defense. I was young and stupid, scolding her for shooting down a well-liked town citizen like that, calling trouble on us. She was raging mad, yelling at me, demanding to know what I thought she was supposed to do.

“Close your eyes, go with it, and forget about it,” I busted out. “It has no meaning at all.”

“No meaning? No meaning?!?” she threw back at me. “That *** was trying to rape me. Maybe that has no meaning for you, but it sure has for me!”

“Come on, clam down. It was only about...” I started defending my point of view, but she cut me off.

“Yeah, I know, it was only about me. Everything is about you these days.” she replied with acid in her voice as she started to grab her few belongings.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting the heck outta here,” she muttered. “Get away from you, until you start thinking with your brains again.”

“Come on, Kid, ...” I tried to calm her down, laying my hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off.

“No, get your hands off me!” She snapped, panned the room and went for the door. She turned around in the doorframe and threw a glance at me I never quite understood. She was standing tall and proud, head up high, blue eyes cold and piercing, her untamed blond hair curling around her face. Her body was trembling with anger and she radiated danger.

Suddenly it occurred to me how beautiful she was. What temptation her looks might mean for other men. Still lanky and in need of filling out her frame, but developing curves in all the right places. A dangerous gift for a homeless kid without family bonds. There was nobody to defend her. No father, no brother, all that was left was me. And I was anything but a father figure, never was, never will be. I had failed her royally. That’s the thing with busting out: you never know about the collateral damage and you can’t undo it. Having time to think about it, I realized I should learn to keep my mouth shut sometimes. Listen to her first. But I would rather die than admit it to her.

Our eyes met and she stilled. “Take care of yourself,” she whispered. Then she was gone.

I didn’t follow her, told myself she wouldn’t go far. There was no way for her to make it on her own. I was the brains, the thinker of the outfit. She would be lost without me. She would return. She had to. She knew.

Maybe it would take her a few days to come to her senses. Maybe a few days more, but in the end she would come back.

Six years passed...

I was at the end of my rope. I stood in the middle of the main street of a nameless town and knew I would die. No sweet-talking had done me any favors; no promise had helped me out of my predicament. For Ben Tucker I was a cheat and a no good, and he would do the world a favor and rid it of me. I was good with a gun, but he was better. I knew. Yet I had to try. When you’re in a standoff there’s only so many ways to make it out of it. I preferred a vertical one.

Time seemed to stretch. No sound was to be heard. A twitch of his eye alerted me and we drew almost in synch, me already knowing I was a beat behind, when a shot rang out. I froze waiting for the pain to set in, but it never came. Instead Tucker dropped his gun, and bent over clasping his hand.

He glared at a spot behind my right shoulder. When he reached out to pick the iron up again, a low voice stopped him. “I have the older claim on him, mister. He’s mine. We’ve got a score to settle, and you won’t get in my way.”

Sand crushed under boots as the speaker edged around me. Brown floppy hat, blond curly hair, an undeniable female figure, clad in tan leather, stepped in front of me.

“Get out of my way, kid!”

“Nope,” she said, took off her gloves and tucked them behind her gunbelt. She was standing relaxed now, but ready to draw. I knew the stance. I had seen it a hundred times before. “Only over my dead body.”

Tucker squinted his eyes against the sun. “Who are you?”

“The one who’s gonna leave this place with him.” She indicated me with her thumb. “You gonna let us go or do we have to shoot it out?”

“You think I wouldn’t draw on a woman?”

“I think you wouldn’t draw on Kid Curry.”

“Kid...?” Ben paled and stepped back from his gun. “You...?”

The blond head bopped up and down in a nod.

“Alright. No offense.” Ben Tucker murmured.

“None taken,” the Kid replied and dropped her stance. She followed Ben with her eyes as he left the place, keeping his hands always in her line of sight. Finally, she turned around and looked at me. With her brilliant blue eyes twinkling she smiled at me. “Hiya, Heyes. Still getting into trouble with that big mouth of yours, huh? You even tried to find your brains?”

» Bustin' Out