Christmas Berries

By Kattayl

Ten year old Han Heyes was happily lost in reading the new story his pa had brought home from town.  Stopping, he remembered last Christmas at the Curry house, with the tree that touched the ceiling and its smell of pine.  Red Berries lined the mantle and made up the table centerpiece.

This year was the Heyes family's turn to host the two families for Christmas and Han had been reading every book on Christmas so they could make it perfect.  He’d already scouted out the tree that would sit in the corner of the front room that could be seen from outside.  And he’d found the Christmas berry bush with the berries turning from yellow to red to decorate their mantle and windowsills.  It would be a slightly smaller number of seats around their table as the two oldest Curry boys were off fighting the war between the states.  He’d ask his ma if they should still leave empty chairs at the table for them as he'd read in a book.  Yes, he was going to make sure this was the perfect Christmas.

“Han? Are you in that tree reading again?” Jeddie Curry’s voice drifted up to him.

“Yeah, climb on up.  Thinking about our Christmas,” Han answered.

“Can’t, I’m watchin’ Maggie and she’s too little to climb up there,” Jeddie answered. “Got somethin’ to tell you.”

Han didn’t like the tone of his younger cousin’s voice.  He knew something was happening because Aunt Mary didn’t usually let little Maggie tag along with him.

Leaving his book in the tree Han climbed down, jumping the last four feet to land in front of his cousin.  “We’re going to Philadelphia,” Maggie blurted out.

“Philadelphia?”  Han looked at Jeddie.

“Yeah we’re all going there for Christmas.  That’s was what I was going to tell him, Maggie,” Jeddie said, nudging the little girl’s arm and giving her a hurt look.

“This Christmas?” Han asked.

“Yeah, ma’s sister lives there and Hugh and Francis can get leave from the army long enough to get there to join us,” Jeddie explained. “No way they could make it back to Kansas.”

“This Christmas?” Han repeated.

“Yes, we’re taking the train four days before Christmas,’ Jeddie answered.

“You can’t.  This is our year to host Christmas and I was going to make it absolutely perfect.”  Han felt like crying.

“Well, I heard ma tell your ma that you could host it next year and Gramma and Grandpa Curry haven’t decided if they’re coming with us or not.  If they stay, then they’ll celebrate with you.”

“It’s not fair.  It’s just not fair.”  Han took off running home to hide the tears he couldn’t hold back any longer.  Jeddie started after him but Maggie couldn’t keep up so he ended up watching his cousin’s back running away from him.

ASJ*****ASJ

As the Curry family gathered around the table that night, Mary Curry said the blessing and added prayers for Hugh and Francis away fighting the war.  While everyone was eating, Grandpa Curry clicked his fork against his glass to get everyone’s attention.

“Just wanted everyone to know that we won’t be joining you on that trip to Philadelphia, as much as we’d like to see our daughter and her family and your sons, Mary.  It’s just too much for these old bones,” he announced.

“Oh, pa.”  

Jeddie watched sadness touch his ma’s face.  Then she took a deep breath and smiled.  “You two will surely be missed.  Peggy says it’s been five years since she’s seen you,” Mary Curry said.  She missed her sister-in-law, Peggy, who had been her best friend until she’d married a man from Philadelphia and followed him there.

Grandpa Curry humphed, “Well, maybe this will force her to come visit her parents!”   

“Han will be happy you’re not going.  You can spend Christmas with the Heyes’," Jeddie spoke up. Being the second youngest, he seldom talked at the dinner table. It was always more interesting to listen to what the adults said and try to understand.

The family all looked at him.

“You’re right, boy,” Grandpa Curry said.  “We’ll spend a quiet Christmas with our daughter who decided to settle near us.”

ASJ*****ASJ

Hannibal Heyes, co-leader of the Devil’s Hole Gang, hobbled from his room toward the table in the main room of the leader’s cabin.  Recovering from two bullet wounds, one in the back of his right shoulder and one that grazed his left side, what hurt more than either of those was the severe sprain in his left ankle.  It refused to take his weight.  Preacher had bound it tightly right after they returned from the successful robbery…successful in the large amount of money they found in the bank safe, but unsuccessful in the number of men in the gang who were injured or captured.

“Kid, you sure you got to leave today?  Tonight’s Christmas Eve.  Wheat will be okay in the Redwater jail the next few days.  Nothing's going to happen over Christmas. He might even get a big turkey dinner,” Heyes argued with his cousin.  “We ain’t been separated at Christmas but twice.”

Curry helped him to the table and pulled out a chair for him.  “I gotta go. It’s at least a day’s ride there and the same back and time to figure a plan to get Wheat out.  Taking Preacher with me.”  He sat down and studied the injured outlaw.  “He’d do it for us.”  He poured them each a whiskey.

Nodding, Heyes answered, “Those two Christmases apart weren’t any fun. I had made such wonderful plans when we were little and then your family went to Philadelphia.  Our grandparents came and pa got me a special present, my own guitar, but it just didn’t feel like Christmas.”

Curry closed his eyes.  “Ours was worse.  We was supposed to meet Hugh and Francis there but only Francis came.  Told us Hugh was killed two days before they were scheduled to leave.  Ma and pa spent most of the time crying.  So did Aunt Peggy and my older sisters.  My older brothers went for long walks with Francis.  They said I was too little to keep up with them.  And the deep snow ma promised never came until the day we left.  When I went out to play I was alone and all I remember is the dust clouds that the swirling cold wind stirred up.  Aunt Peggy and ma didn’t feel like cooking the turkey so we had beef stew and biscuits.  I wished I had been left at home to celebrate with you.”

Heyes nodded sadly.  “And when you came home me and you vowed to plan and have that special, perfect Christmas the next year.”

“Only there was no next year for our families,” Curry added.  “But we always had each other, well almost.”

“I regret the argument that drove you away when you were what, seventeen?”  Heyes poured them each another drink.  “That was my first year with a gang. On Christmas, I was surrounded by men partying, but I felt so alone.  You never told me where you were.”

Curry looked away and changed the subject.  “I should go check that Preacher’s ready to go.”

Heyes reached out and stopped his cousin from standing up.  “Kid, where were you that Christmas?  Were you still mad at me?” Heyes asked.

Looking at the hand on his arm, Curry said quietly, “I was serving time in a jail in Dry Creek, Arizona.  Six days for picking a pocket.”

“You what?  Why?”

“I was drunk and desperate.  Didn’t give them my right name though.  Said I was Joseph Bauer and I was fifteen.  Sheriff believed me.”  Curry started to draw rings on the table with his finger, still refusing to look at Heyes.  “When I sobered up I was miserable and alone.  Sheriff locked up and left me sitting in that smelly cell.  I missed you.  When I got out, that’s when I searched for you.”

“Joe Bauer, like the bully at Valparaiso?” Heyes asked with a slight chuckle that made Curry look at him.

“Yeah, my small way of getting back at him.”  Curry let Heyes hold his eyes for a minute and saw understanding.

“That’s why you don’t want Wheat to spend Christmas in the Redwater jail instead of waiting a few days to break him out?” Heyes asked.

“He’s one of our gang.  We’d do it for any of them.  If we’re gone more than three days, send someone after us.  Not you.  You rest and heal,” Curry ordered as he went out the door.  He leaned back in before closing it.  “Merry Christmas.”

ASJ*****ASJ

“Heyes, come join us in the bunkhouse.  We’re celebrating Christmas dinner,” said Hank, sticking his head into the leader’s cabin.

“Thanks, Hank but I’m fine here.  The pain would stop me from enjoying anything,” Heyes answered.  What he didn’t tell Hank was he missed the Kid and was feeling sorry for himself.

ASJ*****ASJ

 

Just after dusk on Christmas Day, Heyes heard the three shot signal of someone entering Devil’s Hole.  Quiet followed so he found his wooden cane and limped to the porch and deposited himself in the rocking chair there.  Trying to see through the dropping darkness, he squinted until he heard the sound of three, no four, approaching horses.

“Heyes,” the Kid yelled, waving something as soon as he cleared the trees.

  

Struggling to his feet, Heyes broke into a dimpled smile.  “Kid!’ he yelled.  Then he looked at the men on the other horses, Wheat, Preacher…and Kyle.  “Kyle?”

“Hi. Heyes!” Kyle’s stained-tooth smile lit up his face.  “I broke Wheat out of jail!” he yelled.

Curry dismounted and took the steps to the cabin in one leap.  ”...and look Heyes, I found the red berry holly our parents used to put around our homes.”

“How did you get back so soon?” Heyes asked.

Settling into the chair next to Heyes, Curry smiled and said, “Turns out Kyle didn’t come back with us, he hid in Redwater.  When the sheriff left the office unattended, Kyle picked the door lock, found the cell keys, and he and Wheat were leaving Redwater before anyone knew what happened.  We meet them on the trail back to Devil’s Hole.”

“Kyle picked the lock?  You sure he didn’t use dynamite?” Heyes laughed.

“Said one rainy day you tried to teach everyone in the gang the art of picking locks. Kyle listened.”  Curry handed Heyes the red berries.

Heyes shook his head. “You didn’t notice that Kyle wasn’t back?” he asked Curry, serious again.

“I was too busy getting you back here alive.  Never went down to the bunkhouse.  That’s on me, I should have checked.”

Heyes held up the berries. Having you here and these, makes it feel like Christmas!“

ASJ*****ASJ

 

“Kid, you couldn’t wait three more days so I wouldn’t be alone on Christmas?  Won’t be Christmas without you.”  Heyes looked up at the cloudy sky to hold back tears.  “Just three more days.”  He took a deep breath.  “I know that’s unfair of me to say.  You fought to stay, but this time after all these years the pneumonia was stronger than you.

“We enjoyed thirty two years of freedom after our amnesty.  We each buried a wife..and a child.  And haven’t missed a Christmas together since you were seventeen.  I’m older, I’m supposed to die first.”  He laid two sprigs of red berries on the new grave. “I miss you already, Kid. It will never seem like Christmas again without you."