Telling Tales

Telling Tales

By Maz McCoy

“She was a beauty,” Heyes recalled. “I lost my heart to her the moment I first laid eyes on her.” He took a long drink of whiskey, swirling the contents around in his glass, lost in his melancholy.

“What happened?” the stranger asked, from his seat across the saloon table.

“She was classy; from one of the best families.”

“Too good for you, huh?”

“Yeah, she was.” Heyes shook his head at the memory. “I spent time with her, listened to her, lavished her with attention, gave her gentle caresses but…” He let out a heavy sigh.

“Women! All the same.”

“She was…beautiful.”

“You fell hard huh?”

“Yeah, but I had to leave her. We have unfinished business but there’s no going back. If I could have the time with her again…but…you have to move on, not live with regrets.”

“Forget her. Get drunk!”

“November 12th. I remember it like it was yesterday.”

“It was yesterday,” Kid interrupted.

“Huh?” The stranger’s head snapped up and looked at the man beside Hannibal Heyes.

“I said it was yesterday. November 12th was yesterday.”

“You only left her yesterday?” He watched Heyes’ face. “Boy you must be hurting.”

“If she’d just yielded beneath my fingers.”

Kid put a hand on his partner’s shoulder.

“Heyes. Let it go. You couldn’t open the damn safe, that’s all.”

Heyes eyes opened wide, pleading to be understood.

“But I could have! If I’d had more time! She’s just a new version…I could…”

Kid smiled kindly at his friend.

“Let it go, Heyes. Even your nimble fingers weren’t enough this time.”

“It hurts, Kid.”

“I know, Heyes, but you’ll get over it. They say time heals, don’t they?”

“It’s gonna be a long time before I tackle a Pierce and Hamilton ’78 again. But next time, next time she’ll be mine.”

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