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GIVING UP Challenge The
scene opens up with the brown-haired gentleman lying on the bed wearing a
pair of tan pants and a white Henley.
The first three buttons of his Henley are undone and it lays casually
open, just enough to give a peek of skin. His chocolate hair is slightly messed;
as though he has run his sensitive fingers through it a time or two. He is propped up with two pillows; his
socked feet are crossed at the ankles as he intently reads his book. The
blond ex-outlaw is sitting at a table next to the bed, his back towards his
partner. He is still
completely dressed, vest and boots still on. His brown hat sits at the corner of
the table; his gun belt lay neatly on the table with assorted equipment for
gun cleaning perfectly arranged.
One leg is crossed over the other as he works diligently cleaning his
gun. Polishing the barrel, he
abruptly stops. “Heyes”…there
was no response.
“Heyes,” he called louder. “Hmmm…”
a disinterested noise came from the bed. “Heyes!”
he repeated, sounding increasingly annoyed. Turning, he glared at his partner. “What?” Brown eyes looked up over the book. “Do
you think she gave up?” “Huh?”
“Do
you think she gave up?” Kid repeated. “Who?”
Heyes asked, confusion apparent on his face. “Storm!” “Storm?” “Yeah,
Heyes, Storm. You know, your
girl.” Heyes
sat up and placed the book on the bed.
“What about Storm?
What’s she giving up?” “Us.” “Us?!”
Heyes almost shouted. “Yeah,
us.” Standing up, Kid
buckled his gun belt and then tied the thong. Picking up his gun, he admired it
before giving it a twirl and dropping it into the holster as he turned
towards his partner. “She
would never give up on us!”
Heyes stood up and walked over to the window. “Well, at least not on
me.” “Really?” “Really!”
Heyes defiantly responded, turning to look at Kid. “Okay,
then,” Kid said smugly.
“How long have we been in this hotel room? How many times can you read Mark
Twain? Huh? If I clean and polish my gun any more
it will disappear.” Heyes
ran his hand through his hair. “Got
ya thinkin’, didn’t I?” Kid nodded his head. Heyes
opened his mouth to say something then closed it. He took a breath and lifted
his hand in the direction of his partner, and then dropped it. Lightly shaking his head, he asked,
“How come you noticed and I didn’t?” Kid
chuckled, “’Cause when it comes to Storm, you have a blind
eye.” Heyes
looked at Kid. “She’s
your girl, Heyes. She’s
written some real steamy stuff about you.” “Yeah…”
dimples appeared. “And
you.” “Yeah,
but nothin’ compared to yours.” “So…”
“Well,
you got a blind eye towards her.
You don’t see or realize we’ve been stuck in this hotel
room for maybe a lifetime!” “She’s
been busy. She has a life outside
of us…it’s not her choice.
Just things get in the way sometimes,” Heyes stated in defense. “Yeah,
yeah.” Kid rolled his
eyes. “That’s great
for her, but what about us?” “We’re
fine.” “Fine? Can’t tell you how long
we’ve been in this hotel room.” “Are
you hungry?” Kid
shook his head. “Cold?” Kid
shook his head. “Wet?” Kid
shook his head. “Do
we have a nice comfy bed to sleep in?” “Yeah. So what’s the point? We’ve…” “…been
stuck in this hotel room,” Heyes jumped in and finished the sentence. “Poor us,” he
continued. “The law
ain’t looking for us. We
have food, shelter, a comfy place to sleep and you’re doing what you
like doing and I’m doing what I like doing. So how bad is it?” Kid
shrugged. “We’ll
get out of here as soon as she has time and the bunnies start hopping.” “Bunnies?” “Yeah,
bunnies.” Confusion
spread across Kid’s face. “Bunnies…you
know…ideas.” “She
calls ideas bunnies?” “Yeah.” “Why?” “Don’t
know; always assumed it was because they can be so proliferous.” “Pro-what-a-what?” “Proliferous,”
Heyes repeated. Seeing it
didn’t register with Kid, he added, “They reproduce at
will.” “Heyes! You don’t have to talk about
stuff like that, ‘specially when you’re talkin’ ‘bout
Storm.” Heyes
chuckled. “They just want
ideas to be plentiful and easy to come by, Kid.” He laughed. “Think
they could just say that,” the blond partner stammered. “So how do we get a bunny to
hop…aw jeez, it sounds dirty sayin’ that now that you said what
you said.” “Bunnies
are cute, not dirty.” The
brown-haired man tried desperately to stifle a chuckle. “Not sure how we go about
getting the bunny to hop. I
don’t think saying she’s giving up on us though, is going to
help.” Kid
sighed. Heyes
walked over to his partner and gave him a small back-handed swat to the
arm. “Cheer up,
Kid. It could be
worse.” Kid
shrugged. ** Long
neatly manicured fingers wiggled and flexed as they prepared to attack the
keyboard in front of them. Slight
trepidation slowed the process.
It had been months, if not longer, since any real bunnies hopped. She had hoped last month’s
challenge of “Tradition” would be the one to break the
writer’s block. Instead,
the bunny that had hopped so happily at the beginning of the month fizzled and
died even after an eleventh-hour surge to resurrect it. ** The
wind howled outside and through the cracks of the old jail. The sky lit up as a bolt of lightning
raced across the sky and the rain continued its onslaught. The deputy sat up front at the
sheriff’s desk, keeping warm by the small pot belly stove. Unfortunately, the stove’s heat
was only enough to warm the small area, leaving the cells in the back cold
and damp. The storm outside
surged on as the lone prisoner tried to wrap his sheepskin coat around him
for warmth. He ducked his head,
pulled his collar up and the brim of his hat down. Sighing, he hoped his partner fared
better after they had to split up… got away and was back-tracking to
find him… was just biding time…for the right time to get him out
of there. ** The
room was lit by the blazing fire in the fireplace. It not only lit the room but brought
warmth, protecting the inhabitants from the cold, brutal storm raging
outside. Hannibal Heyes sat
comfortably in an overstuffed leather chair, cigar in one hand, and brandy in
the other. Lifting his face to
the ceiling, he blew out rings of smoke.
Raising the glass of warm amber liquid to his lips, he sipped as he
gazed at the statuesque woman walking across the floor towards him. A dimpled smile spread across his face
as she sat down next to him and leaned in… |
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