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Dark and
Stormy Night Challenge Hannibal
Heyes lay fully clothed on top of the covers of the hotel bed, head and
shoulders propped up by two pillows. His boots were neatly placed by the side
of the bed and his gun and holster hung on the bedpost above his head and
more importantly, in reach. Kid
Curry sat in the chair between the two beds, his sock covered foot propped up
on his bed next to his empty holster. On the small table next to him, he had
meticulously laid out the tools he needed to accomplish the ever so important
task of cleaning his gun. With the gun in his hand, he cleaned, oiled, and
wiped every inch of his prized possession and then to make sure it was done
to his satisfaction, he did it again. Placing the cleaning cloth down on the
table, he fastidiously inspected the gun. Finally, pleased with his work, he
placed his gun in its holster. Taking
out his pocket watch, he checked the time; six thirty, too early to go to bed
and besides being too miserable a night to go out, nothing in town was open.
He and Heyes were holed up in the very small but usually buzzing town of
Casper Wyoming. They had hoped to ride further south but with the black
clouds on the horizon moving swiftly towards them, they opted for a dry bed
in Casper. The skies opened up and the wind began to howl shortly after their
arrival. They braved the elements to get a hot meal in the only café
in town and attempted to have a beer in the only saloon but were turned away
by the barkeep saying the weather wasn’t fit for man or beast; he was
closing up and heading home. Walking
into their hotel room, they sighed. “Well, at least we have a dry place
to sleep,” Heyes commented as he looked around the sparse room. It had
two beds; a small table and chair between the beds; a small dresser with
mirror; a pitcher and bowl on it; and about six pegs in the wall to hang
their clothes. “And
nothin’ to do,” Kid complained as he unbuttoned his wet sheepskin
coat and hung it on a peg. Placing his hat on the dresser, he turned back
towards Heyes, “Got any whiskey in your saddlebag?” Heyes
shook his head as he hung his coat on a peg and then placed his hat next to
Kid’s. “That’s one of the reasons we decided to come to
town.” Heyes caught Kid’s reflection in the mirror; he looked to
be in a mood. Shrugging he started to rummage through the small dresser.
Pulling out the last drawer he sat back on his heels and smiled. “Got a
couple of books,” he stated, “to pass the time.” Looking up
at Kid, Heyes asked, “Want one.” Rolling
his eyes, Kid grabbed his saddlebag, walked over to the chair and plopped
down. Reaching into the saddlebag, he took out all he needed to clean his
gun. ** Standing
up, Kid stretched and then hung his holster with his newly cleaned gun in it,
on the bed post. Glancing over at the other bed he noticed that Heyes looked
totally engrossed in the book he was reading. Scowling, Kid walked over to
the dresser and picked up the thick book Heyes didn’t choose.
“Paul Clifford,” Kid read the title out loud. “What kind a
book is Paul Clifford?” “Hmm?”
Heyes murmured, not really paying attention. Kid
shrugged and headed back to the chair, once again plopping with a thud into
it. Opening the book he began to read and then stopped. “What kind of a
book starts with, ‘It was a Dark and Stormy night’?” “Huh?”
Heyes muttered. “I
said,” Kid said loudly, sounding annoyed, “What kind of book
starts with, ‘It was a Dark and Stormy Night’?” “Don’t
know,” his partner responded. “What’s the title?” “Paul
Clifford.” “Never
heard of it.” “Me
neither,” Kid declared. Heyes
rolled his eyes at the comment, and then went back to reading his book. Kid
opened the book and started reading again, reading the first line out loud.
“It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents —
except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind
which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies),
rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitatin’ the scanty flame
of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.’,” pausing he
looked at Heyes again. “Why would you start a book like that?” “To
set the ambience.” The
ambee-what?” Kid questioned. “Ambience,”
Heyes repeated. Kid
stared blankly back at him. “The
mood,” he explained. “The
mood,” the blond squawked. “When it’s stormy; I’m
wet. I’m grouchy.” A
low half chuckled escaped from the brown haired one, knowing all too well
grouchy was an understatement when Kid was wet. Blue
eyes glared as his partner. “What kind of book wants to make you
grouchy?” Heyes
patiently closed his book. “Maybe it’s a story about
tonight?” He sarcastically grumbled. Blue
eyes became piercing. “No
need gettin’ all proddy.” Exasperated
Heyes sat up and faced Kid. “It sounds like a scary book. A dark and
stormy night sounds like bad things are about to happen. I haven’t read
the book, never heard of the book so I don’t know. If you want to
know…read the book.” “Fine,”
Kid groused, as he opened the book and stared at the page. Feeling
somewhat guilty for snapping at his partner, Heyes asked, “Do you want
to read this book?” Kid’s
eyes stayed fixed on the page. “It’s
called, ‘Crime and Punishment’,” Heyes added. “Now
that sounds like a scary book!” Kid chuckled. Heyes
joined in. “How
about some blackjack?” Heyes inquired as he pulled a deck of cards out
of his shirt pocket. Dropping
the book on the bed, Kid shot up. “Now that sounds like a plan.” "It
was a dark and stormy night" is a phrase written by Victorian novelist
Edward Bulwer-Lytton, at the beginning of his 1830 novel Paul Clifford.
Though "Clifford" is rarely read among the general reading public
today, it contains one of the most widely-known openings in English literary
history: "It was a dark and stormy night." It is frequently invoked
for its atmospheric and neo-Gothic description, often in the mystery,
detective, horror, and thriller genres. Because of its Romantic qualities, it
has likewise become a textbook example of purple prose. Crime
and Punishment was first published in 1866. |
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