On the Run

❧

MONDAY October 27th

The sky was dark. The rain poured relentlessly. That didn't stop the people of Bandera from honoring their fallen.

Including the two bounty hunters from Odessa, they had lost twelve men. Rick Higgins was severely injured, but holding on.

The Banderans had taken out thirteen of Shilling's gang members and maimed several more. They had put up the good fight, but not without sacrifice.

As the preacher spoke, Ames stood with Guy and the old man, Charlie Wallace. Water dripped off the brim of his hat as he stared at his father's casket. He was sad, but he wasn't broken. His father wasn't afraid of death, so Ames figured he couldn't be afraid of life without him. Randolph had taught him to be strong. He'd taught him to be a man.

After the service, Charlie Wallace and Guy accompanied young Ames to the home of his late father. It was a two room shack that Randolph had finely crafted out of oak. There was a wood burning stove in the center of the room. Cabinets lined the back wall and there was a bed in the front corner, left of the door. This bed belonged to Ames.

In the other room, Rick Higgins was lying in a bed with a blood soaked bandage that covered his shoulder and his chest. He was conscious, but barely coherent due to fever and pain. He was being tended to by the widow of John the barber.

"How is he?" Asked Guy.

Through her swollen and teary eyes, she answered, "The doctor said if he can break the fever, he'll make it."

"You go on home and tend to your kids, Mrs. Marion. Try to get a little rest." Said Guy as he dragged up a chair and sat down close to Rick.

She nodded and left the room.

"Higgins, can you hear me?" Asked Guy as Rick lay there, breathing deep and heavily.

"You're gonna pull through. If that fall off the roof didn't kill you, I don't know what will."

Rick cracked a faint smile and asked in a subtle whisper, "The boy?"

"He's in the other room. He's fine, but Randolph didn't make it."

This tugged on Guy's heart. He wasn't much of a man for sympathy, but Randolph was the only friend he'd ever cared to have.

Rick closed his eyes tighter and grimaced at the news.

"I heard you did a hell of a job out there, Rick. The people of Bandera are mighty grateful."

In the other room, Ames sat on the edge of his bed with one of his guns in his lap. He was running his finger across the custom engraved lettering on the grip. Charlie Wallace had stuffed some wood in the stove and lit a fire. He dragged up a chair and sat down. He rubbed his hands together and blew into them as if to warm himself up.

"Say boy, you ever heard the one about the Mexican bullfrog?" Asked Charlie Wallace in his usual upbeat voice.

Ames looked up and saw the old man looking at him through his squinty eyes and face full of wrinkles. He shook his head and Charlie proceeded to finish the joke, getting Ames to crack a smile.

"What about the Mexican turnip?" He asked.

The old man continued to rattle off jokes and tell Ames stories that weren't necessarily meant for the ears of a boy his age. Ames appreciated Charlie. Though, he was sitting on hard times, Charlie made him feel normal.

Guy walked out of the room Rick was in and shut the door. He took a seat at the table with his back to Ames. He reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out a cigar and lit it.

The old man kept talking. He was telling Ames about the time he took out three Apache with only two bullets left in his gun, but Ames was distracted. He was too busy focusing on Guy, who seemed to be deep in thought. Ames sat and wondered what he was thinking.

As the night came, so did more rain. The doctor came and checked on Rick again around 7 o' clock. Then he left, having given the same analysis as before.

Charlie had made a spot for himself on the floor by the stove. His snores, though loud and obnoxious, were as comedic as the man himself.

Guy remained awake, sitting in the same chair at the table as before. Only now, he appeared to be reading something. Ames' curiosity forced him off the edge of his bed. He walked over and sat down at the table directly across from Guy.

"What's that you're reading, Mr. Hunt? Asked Ames.

With a cigar clenched between his teeth, Guy held up a book. It was a bible that he'd picked up off of the nightstand beside the bed that Higgins was in.

"That belonged to my mother." Said Ames.

Guy immediately set it down, but before he could apologize, Ames cut him off. "No. No. She would've wanted you to read it. My father too." Guy cracked a small grin and picked up the book again.

"Do you believe in heaven and hell, Mr. Hunt?" Ames asked.

Guy set the book down, took the cigar out of his mouth and exhaled.

"Just Guy." He told Ames before answering. Ames smiled. "To be honest with you, son, I don't know what I believe."

Ames looked at him curiously and then he asked him another question.

"Guy, are the stories about you true. Ya know, the bad ones?" Ames immediately regretted asking the question, but it was too late.

"I'm afraid so, kid." Replied Guy without hesitation as he stuck the cigar back into his mouth. "Why don't you make like old man Charlie and get you some shuteye. You and Me, we'll talk tomorrow."

Ames nodded, stood up and walked back to his bed. He was tired. It'd been days since he had a full night of sleep. With Guy and Charlie Wallace in the room, he felt he could rest easy. He let out yawn and his head hit the pillow. He was out in seconds.

The next morning, the sun was shining in full force. Ames woke to the smell of something cooking. He hadn't eaten since Sunday morning. He was starving. Charlie Wallace had prepared a stew while Ames was asleep.

"I was wondering if you was ever gonna wake up!" Charlie Hollered, even though Ames was merely a few feet away. Ames rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Still wearing his clothes from the day before, he stood up and walked to the table and sat down. The old man set a bowl of stew in front of him. Ames wasted no time and dug in, shoveling stew into his mouth as fast as he could. Surprisingly, it was the best stew he'd ever tasted.

"Gah damn, son! Who's holding the gun to your head?" Said the old man with a hearty laugh. Ames smiled at Charlie and continued eating until there was nothing left.

The door to the other room was open, Ames could see Rick Higgins laying in the bloodstained bed, drenched in sweat.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Ames asked.

"Rick's a tough son of a gun. I think he'll be alright." Answered Charlie Wallace, still smiling.

Suddenly, it occurred to Ames that Guy wasn't in the room.

"Mr. Wallace, did Guy leave?" He asked.

"He went out hunting. Hopefully he lands something big. If we're gonna be feeding you, it's gonna have to be!" Replied Charlie. Ames let out a laugh. He'd never met anyone like Charlie before. His father was more of a serious man. Though friendly, he didn't indulge much into humor.

"Let's say you and me go fishing. What'a ya say?" Charlie asked.

Ames loved fishing. Sometimes, he and his father would wake up early and spend the entire day at the river. With excitement in his eyes, he exclaimed, "I'll get the poles ready!"

Ames and Charlie made their way down to the river. It wasn't far, so they hiked it on foot. When they arrived, Ames was eager to get his line in the water. He reached into his pale of worms, pulled one out and hooked it through its midsection. He pulled his rod back, then whipped it forward, slinging the worm into the water. He slowly began reeling. The old man watched with enthusiasm as he baited his own hook.

Before Charlie got his line in the water, Ames had already hooked a fish. His rod bowed over and he began reeling. The fish was putting up a fight, splashing ferociously on top of the water. He kept reeling and pulling back on his rod until he had the fish up on the bank. He'd landed a large mouth bass.

"Dammit, boy! That there's a good fish! Every bit of three pounds!" Shouted the old man.

Ames set the fish aside and quickly reached for another worm. He casted again. His hook was in the water for less than ten seconds and bam! He'd hooked another. They fished another two hours before they were satisfied. Ames had caught seven bass, two flathead catfish and three trout. Old man Charlie didn't do bad either. He'd landed three bass and two catfish.

They made their way back to the shack. When they arrived, the old man sat in a rocking chair on the porch while Ames cleaned the fish.

Guy came riding up as Ames was finishing the last of the fish. He had a large white tail tied down to Shot's back. The antlers were the biggest Ames had ever seen. He'd counted a symmetrical twelve points.

"We're gonna be eating good tonight!" Shouted Charlie from the rocking chair. "The boy would've emptied the river if I'd let him!" Ames looked at Guy and smiled proudly.

After Guy, with the help of Ames, strung up and cleaned the deer, the men washed up and made their way back inside and the three of them sat around the table.

"Say, you boys wanna play some stud?"Asked Charlie. Ames had never played cards. The old man pulled out a deck, began shuffling and explained the rules. They played a few hands and Ames was quick to catch on. Charlie kept shuffling and passing out cards. In the beginning, they were pretty evenly winning hands. After about twenty deals, Ames got hot. He won six hands in a row.

"It's a good thing y'all aren't playing for money." Rick Higgins was now sitting up, his skin had regained color and he appeared to have whooped the fever. "You boys would be headed for the poor house." Rick said through a painful smile. Charlie and Guy both laughed.

They continued playing for a few hours until the old man's belly began to rumble. He called it quits and began preparing supper.

Guy went into the room with Rick and shut the door behind him. Ames remained at the table and practiced his shuffle. The old man peeled potatoes, cut carrots and cubed the deer meat. He threw the ingredients in a pot with some liquid, dumped some seasonings, gave it a stir and stuck it over the flames. Ames was excited to taste more of Charlie's cooking.

An hour passed before Guy came out of the room, slowly followed by Rick. Rick had one arm in the sleeve of his coat while the opposite side draped over the bandage of his wounded shoulder.

"How ya feelin' Rick?" Asked Charlie Wallace.

"Like a bullet blew out my shoulder." Rick replied. Charlie burst out in laughter, causing Rick to laugh as well.

The men sat at the table and talked until the sun had gone down. The old man served dinner and yet again, Ames was impressed. The food smelled great and tasted even better. After dinner, Rick went back into the room and quickly, he was asleep. The old man spit out his last chew, laid down and began snoring. Ames sat on his bed and fiddled with the deck of cards. He had enjoyed playing cards with the men and hoped they'd get to do it again. Guy sat at the table, with his nose in the Bible as he had the night before. The smell of his cigar filled the room.

"Ames." Said Guy as he closed the book and set it on the table. Ames looked up. "Come on over here and take a seat." He continued. Ames didn't ask questions, he sat the cards on his bed and made his way into the chair opposite of Guy.

"I spoke with Higgins. We think it's best that we get you out of here and hide out for a while... Schilling lost a lot of men, but I know what kind of man he is. He's going to come looking and it'd be best if he doesn't find you... Rick's banged up, but he'll be good to ride in a few days. The old man's agreed to ride with us as well."

Ames nodded in agreement. He loved the town of Bandera, but without his father around, there was nothing left for him.

"Where are we going?" Asked Ames.

Guy answered in short, "North."

Over the next few days, Rick's health improved drastically. He was moving around on his feet and lending his good hand when he could. The old man took Ames fishing every day and never ran short on jokes or stories. They played cards in the evenings. Guy spent most of his time at the table with his nose in the same book. When he wasn't reading, he smoked cigars and appeared to be in deep thought.

SATURDAY November 1st

The day had arrived. Rick, Guy, Charlie and Ames finished packing up, said their goodbyes, then hit the road. Charlie Wallace, with Higgins by his side, held the reigns to Rick's two horse wagon, bringing up the rear. Guy rode in the front on the back of his brown thoroughbred, closely followed by Ames on his black Arabian, Thunder.

With a long ride ahead, they rode at an easy pace. Charlie had taken it solely upon himself to provide the entertainment. He sang songs, told jokes, told stories that sounded like lies, but Ames thought it was best to believe him. He didn't want to underestimate the old man. They rode until the sun was setting before they pulled up and set camp.

It was a bit chilly, but the fire they'd built did well to keep them warm. They fried fish in an iron skillet over the open flames and the men relaxed around the fire. Higgins and old man Wallace turned in early. Wallace snored loudly which Ames still thought to be funny.

Ames stood up, reached into his coat and pulled out his mother's Bible. He walked over and handed it to Guy. "You should finish reading this." The boy said to the bounty hunter. With that, Ames walked to his tent and crawled into his bedroll.

Guy opened the book to a page that had been marked with a duck feather. He began to read.

John 15:13

Greater has no one than this: to lay one's life for one's friends.