Crossing Over

Crossing Over

By Maz McCoy



“D’you reckon we crossed over yet?”

“I think we must have, Kid. Miller said it was just the other side of the river.”

“I didn’t see no marker.”

“Guess they can’t have one everywhere.” Heyes kicked his horse on.

“D’you think it’ll be different here?”

“Some things, sure.”

“Like what?”

“Well, lots of things.”

“You ever crossed over before?”


“So, how d’you know?”

“Because while you spend hours making sure you gun is the cleanest in the west, I read and educate myself.”

“So what’s gonna be different?”

“Well some folk up here live in a house made of ice.”

“How can you build a house of ice? It’d melt.”

“Apparently it’s colder up north.”

“Don’t see how it can get much colder than this,” Kid complained as he pulled his collar up.

“And they have moose up here.”

“Big antlers, right?”


“Say, maybe we can shoot one and sell it?”


“What else?”

“They play a lot of ice hockey.”

“Inside their ice house?”

“On the frozen ponds.”

“Sounds like a real warm place to live. Remind me again why we’re here.”

“Because we’re not wanted in Canada.”

“But they got law up here, right?”

“Yes, the Mounties. They wear big hats and red jackets.”

“Shouldn’t be hard to spot them coming.”

At which point they noticed someone in a red jacket riding towards them.

“Whata we do, Heyes?”

“Nothing. We’re just peaceable American citizens.”

The rider drew closer. A wide brimmed hat sat on top of a mop of brown hair. The red tunic was pulled tight at the waist. The man seemed a little small for the infamous Mounties. Heyes and Kid did their best to look like peaceable men out for a ride. Unfortunately they were trying too hard and before they realised it they found themselves staring down the barrel of a gun.

The Mountie pulled along side them.

“Don’t move, gentlemen.”

Heyes exchanged a glance with his partner. Something was not quite right. The lawman kept his hat pulled low.

“You’re a Mountie?” Kid asked.

“That’s right.”

“But you’re a girl.”

Blue eyes narrowed beneath the Mountie’s hat. “Got a problem with that, blondie?”

Heyes gave a snirt.

“No, ma’am.” Kid shot his partner a glare.

“All right, Mister Heyes, you’re free to go.”

Brown ex-outlaw eyes opened wide in disbelief. How could he…I mean she…know?

“I think you’ve made a mistake, ma’am…” Heyes began but a wave of the gun silenced him.

“No mistake. You’re Hannibal Heyes and he’s Kid Curry. Now it’s only Mister Curry I need, so you’re free to go on your way.”

“Why me?” Kid asked.

The Mountie pushed the hat back on her head and smiled.


“That’s right, Kid.”

“You’re a Mountie?”

“Yep and you know the saying. We always get our man!”

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