Posts : 80
Join date : 2015-01-20
Location : Brighton Beach, Brooklyn, NY, USA
|Subject: Troublesome Sam - 1 Fri Feb 27, 2015 8:29 am|| |
Heyes and Curry find the perfect town for poker. But a revealing conversation inadvertently overheard forces them to leave in the dead of night - with the threat of being turned in hanging over their heads!
Make sure there’s more than one way out wherever you are - Sam’s mamma “All I’m saying Kid is we can’t save the world.” Heyes and Curry slowly rode up the busy main street of yet another town. “You can’t tell me it wasn’t worth helping Tara with her father’s thieving partner,” Curry responded, watching the midday bustle of people all around them. “And we did get $1,000 each in our pockets.” “True,” Heyes agreed. “But we’re supposed to avoid trouble, not go looking for it.” “All right Heyes.” Curry frowned. “Next time we see someone in trouble, I’ll just look the other way.” “Now you’re thinking,” Heyes nodded as they pulled up to the saloon. “Let’s see if it’s worth sticking around.” The two men dismounted and tied their horses, but before they reached the saloon doors, a young voice cried out. “Let me go!” Curry backed up a step and looked down the boardwalk where a burly drunk had a tight grip on the arm of a young child. The boy couldn’t have been more than seven years old or so. He was scrappily dressed in baggy clothes and wore a rumpled, oversized hat which obscured his face and from under which sprouted a few strands of blonde hair. “Kid,” Heyes warned. “What was we just talking about?” “I know Heyes, but it don’t hurt to look.” “I have a feeling it will,” Heyes said sourly. “Hey mister, it don’t seem like he wants to go with you,” Curry took a step towards the boy and the man who held him. “Why don’t you mind your own business?” he growled, struggling to keep his grip on the squirming child. “That sounds like a good idea, Kid.” Heyes said. But Curry stood easy, thumbs tucked in his gun belt. The inebriated man took note of his stance, the way he wore his gun. His right hand wavered over his own weapon; it was a long enough distraction. “Ow!” yelled the man as the child bit him and broke free. “You brat, I”ll….” “I don’t think you will,” Curry said as the boy ran off and disappeared down a side street. The man cursed richly under his breath, glaring at Curry, and stumbled off. “See Heyes, that was painless,” Curry said. “Maybe for you,” Heyes answered as they walked into the saloon. ****************The round faced woman sitting behind the desk in the foyer of the orphanage looked up as the front door swung open. A sudden blinding shaft of sunlight framed the profile of a tall, broad shouldered man, but she could not see him clearly. Once he closed the door behind him, she involuntarily took in a sharp breath. His face was rugged and worn, his black cowboy hat pulled low to his eyes. His boots had seen better days, and his duster and jeans looked like he had ridden long and hard. Her eyes fell to the gun at his hip, then she quickly looked back up into his hard face. He strode slowly but purposefully to the desk, his dark eyes gazing directly into hers. “May…may I help you?” she stammered. “I believe you got a child here I’m looking for,” he said in a low, rumbling voice. “Sam Floriano.” “Oh,” she flustered. “Are you a … a relative of young Sam?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. “You could say that,” he said. “Uh, one moment, please.” She nervously rose and hurried out of the room by a door behind the desk. The man removed his hat and ran his hand through his shoulder length silvery hair. He scanned the large waiting room, which was shabby with old furniture and faded paint, but it appeared to be clean, and smelled faintly of mothballs and lavender. He then noticed another door in the room which stood slightly ajar; he could see several children peering at him from within, but they quickly shut the door in response to his notice. He heard a click behind him, and replacing his hat turned to see a short, balding man enter the room through the same door his assistant had exited. “I’m the director here, sir,” he said in a querulous voice. “May I help you?” “As I told your lady there,” and he pointed to the woman who had just reentered. “I’m here for Sam Floriano.” He watched the man fidget and twitch nervously. He had no patience for such foolish behavior. “Is there a problem?” he asked in a hard voice. “Well, uh, the child…I’m sorry to say sir that uh, the boy … ran away.” He continued in a rush. “It is not the first time, and we haven’t yet found him. Most children simply do not go … running off…” He faltered as the man’s face grew stern. “How hard have you searched?” “Sir!” the director replied abruptly, taking offense. “Sam may have been a challenge, but we certainly wouldn’t let any child run off without trying to find him.” “I’ll bet,” he growled, and the director’s bravado crumbled. “When was the last time you saw him?” “Two weeks ago,” he said quickly. “He took $30 from our office, and a gun.” “You better hope I find him.” He emphasized each word, his dark eyes boring into those of the director. Then he turned smartly on his heel and left.
Posts : 1447
Join date : 2013-08-24
Location : Over the rainbow
|Subject: Re: Troublesome Sam - 1 Tue Mar 03, 2015 10:34 am|| |
So no sooner are they out of one adventure, they're off on another? No complaints here.
So why has the boy gone running off with a gun and money? Why does he need a gun? I can't wait to find out.
Na sir 's na seachainn an cath - Neither seek nor shun the fight Old Scottish proverb