When Words Fail

The sun is just starting to rise as Jimmy makes his way down to the hotel lobby.  It’s a bit earlier than he usually likes to start his day, but he’s still in a good mood.  It’s amazing what a full night’s sleep can do for one’s disposition.

He enters the lobby and looks around.  Ike isn’t there yet so he takes a seat to wait.  The night before, Ike and he had agreed to meet at 6:30 and go find some breakfast before starting their ride back to Sweetwater.  Jimmy glances at the clock above the counter.  It’s only 6:28;  Ike should be here any time.

When Ike hasn’t appeared fifteen minutes later, Jimmy decides to go get him.

“The lazy bum.  Musta stayed out too late last night an’ now he can’t wake up,” Jimmy grumbles good-naturedly under his breath as he arrives at Ike’s door.

“Ike,” he says loudly, pounding on the door with a fist.  “Time ta get up ya slug-a-bed!”

Jimmy waits for the door to open and Ike to let him know he’s awake now, but Ike doesn’t respond.

“Ike!” Jimmy tries again.  Still no grinning face appears behind the door.  Unexpectedly, Jimmy is hit by a feeling of great unease.

“Ike, this ain’t funny.  Now git up an’ open this door!”  When there is still no answer, Jimmy dashes back downstairs to the front desk where the clerk is just taking up his position for the day.

“Ah, Mr. Hickok.  What can I do for you this fine morning?”

“My friend ain’t answering me an’ I’m afraid he might be hurt er sick!  Do ya have another key to his room so I can check on him?”  Jimmy asks, almost in a panic.

“Well, we don’t normally give out keys to anyone other than.......”

The clerk never finishes his sentence because he suddenly finds himself starring down the business end of a very shinny colt revolver.

“Look here mister!  My friend needs my help.  Now either ya give me that key right now or ya will be takin’ names at the pearly gates before breakfast!”  Jimmy knows he’s probably overreacting, but he can’t shake this new feeling that somehow Ike is in trouble.

With a trembling hand, the clerk gives over the extra key to Jimmy, who re-holsters his gun.  “Thank-you-very-much-and-have-a-good-day.”

The startled man stares after Jimmy as he dashes back upstairs to Ike’s door.

Entering the room, the first thing Jimmy notices is that the bed hasn’t been slept in.  The second is that there’s no Ike.  His saddle bags are still there along with his bed roll, but no Ike.  Jimmy is now sure that something is dreadfully wrong.  He quickly gathers up Ike’s things, and after collecting his own stuff, returns both keys to the wary clerk.  He rushes to the Livery stable, hoping he’ll find Ike there laughing at his panic, but knowing somehow that he won’t.

He walks into the stable and instantly realizes that Ike’s horse and saddle are missing.  ‘Ike wouldn’t just ride out somewhere without telling me?’ Jimmy asks himself, and he’s pretty sure the answer is no.  A piece of paper catches his eye and he picks it up and unfolds it.  It’s a letter of some kind, but he can’t read it.  Ike would know better than to leave a note for him!  Every second Jimmy’s suspicions and worry are growing.

Just then a stable boy enters to start his morning chores.  He’s a lad of about twelve or thirteen.  Seeing the boy, an idea pops into Jimmy’s head and he hurries over to him.

“Hey boy,” he calls.  The boy looks up questioningly and glimpsing Jimmy’s gun, starts to back away.

“I ain’t gonna hurt ya.  I was just wonderin’ if ya can read?”

“Yeah,” the boy answers, not quite sure what this strange man wants.

“Will ya read this for me?” Jimmy asks and holds out the note.

“Sure,” he replies with a shrug.

 

 

Jimmy swears loudly when the boy has finished and grabs the note back.  He hurries over to his horse and saddles it, leaving the young stable hand starring bewildered after him.

Jimmy doesn’t know who the heck this Ralph Terry is, but he does know Ike is in serious trouble and it’s his fault.  Cursing himself for not having stayed out with Ike last night, he quickly loads both his and Ike’s things onto his horse and rides out, heading for Willow Canyon.

Ike is lying on the ground, his eyes closed, in a haze of pain.  He’s just grateful to finally be left alone.  Terry was right, he did have methods that would be enough to make any normal person tell everything, but Ike isn’t normal.  At first, Terry was content to try beating Ike black and blue.  The mass of rapidly darkening bruises that now cover his head, face and chest are a testament to Terry’s efficiency, and have left him gasping for breath.  But when the beating failed to spark a response from Ike, Terry moved on to his next tactic.  Ike shudders involuntarily and glances down at his hands which are now tied in front of him.  The pain in them is like a roaring fire and grows as he remembers what happened a few hours ago.  Furious at Ike for still refusing to speak, Terry ordered his men to pull Ike’s fingernails out one at a time until he decided to talk.  Being who he is though, Ike couldn’t utter a word, and soon all ten of his fingernails had been replaced by excruciating pain.  Disgusted that even this had failed, Terry beat Ike some more for good measure and dumped him on the ground to wait for Jimmy.

And on the ground is where Ike has remained for the last couple of hours, wavering back and forth through pain filled consciousness.

When he hears the sound of a horse entering the camp, Ike slowly opens his eyes again.  It’s the lookout returning.  He confers for a moment with Terry and then dismounts as Terry walks over to Ike.

“I’m glad to see you’re awake.  I wouldn’t want you to miss out on seeing your friend Hickok,” Terry sneers at him.  Ike doesn’t give him the satisfaction of any facial response. 

“Get him ready,” he snarls at them.  “I’ve got a very nice reception planned for Mr. James Hickok.”  He then turns and walks away, leaving Ike in their “tender” care.

It’s late afternoon by the time Jimmy cautiously enters the canyon.  Not knowing that he’s already been seen and unwilling to play into Terry’s hands, Jimmy dismounts and leads his horse forward silently.  He knows this canyon well from his express runs and he’s hoping he can sneak up on them from the back and get Ike out before all heck breaks loose.  Rounding a corner, Jimmy can see the camp from the clump of bushes he’s hiding in, and he pauses long enough to tie his horse to a nearby tree before he returns to studying the layout, trying to formulate a plan.  He can see two men conversing around a smoking fire pit, but no Ike.  Letting his eyes roam he finally find him off to his right, standing underneath one of the larger trees.  Ike has been striped bare to the waist and his hands tied above him to a tree branch, forcing him to stand upright.  Seeing his friend in this position, Jimmy’s blood starts to boil and almost without thinking, he grabs his gun.  Still seeing only the two men, he gives into his first impulse and rushes forward firing.  One of the men by the fire jerks and falls to the ground, but the other reacts quicker and Jimmy’s second shot misses as the man throws himself into the dirt.  Jimmy hears the shouts of more men coming and then the distinct sound of a gun cocking.  He turns toward it but finds that the gun is not trained on him, but on a helpless Ike.

“If you want to see your friend die, by all means keep shooting,” the man with the gun says in a sickly sweet voice, and Jimmy knows instantly this is Ralph Terry.  For a moment, Jimmy weighs his chances of dropping Terry before he could hurt Ike, but quickly realizes he doesn’t have a chance.  Even if he could get Terry first, there are still three other men and he could never get them all.  And with Ike standing there defenseless, the stakes are too high to try.  Not having a clue how he is going to get them out of this, he sighs in disgust and throws his gun on the ground, cursing himself for his hastiness.

“Wadda ya want, Terry?”  Jimmy growls.  “I don’t even know ya!”

Seeing Jimmy drop his gun, Terry re-holsters his own and moves forward as if to have a pleasant conversation, but one of his men immediately takes his place next to Ike, gun drawn.

“Oh we’ve never met face to face, but we have met, should I say gun to gun.  You shot my brother in the back as we were leaving the bank in Granite Springs with our rather large withdraw.” 

Jimmy’s mind goes back to a day about a year ago.  He’d just been passing through when he heard the shots and ran to see what was going on.  He’d arrived just in time to see robbers fleeing the bank after having shot the teller.  He immediately joined the deputy behind a barrel and started returning fire, and he’d managed to get one man, but the rest got away.  It was so long ago and like so many other instances in his life that he’d almost forgotten it.

Terry has been watching Jimmy closely during the silence, and finally he speaks again, “I see you remember.”

“You n’ yer brother robbed the bank and killed an innocent man,” Jimmy says through clenched teeth.  “He deserved what he got.”

“Ike ain’t got nothin’ ta do with this.  Why don’t ya just let him go?”  Jimmy retorts, clutching at anything he can to try and get Ike out of this mess.

“Ah, so his name’s Ike is it?  He has been most reluctant to tell me anything, despite my many attempts to convince him.”  Terry turns to Ike, “Isn’t that right, Ike.”  Ike musters up enough strength to give him a tired glare.

At Terry’s words, Jimmy once again glances over at Ike and Ike meets his gaze with agony filled eyes.  This time Jimmy sees the bruises that cover Ike’s face, head, and chest, as well as the dried blood that has trickled from his mouth and nose. Jimmy also notices the dark crimson smears of dried blood running down his arms and knows there is something dreadfully wrong with Ike’s hands.  Rage boils over in him at the thought of what these men have done to his gentle friend, and his temper flairs like a match in a powder shack. Without even thinking, he starts for Terry, despite the fact that he is unarmed.  Instantly, the man with the gun on Ike cocks it and takes better aim and Jimmy reluctantly stops, anger seeping from him.

“He couldn’t tell ya anything if he wanted to!  He can’t talk!”  Jimmy spits out at Terry.

“Is that so?” Terry says with interest.  Turning to Ike, he offers him a twisted smile. “And I thought that bald head was your only unique feature.  Sorry boy, didn’t know you were also a dummy.  I guess my little games weren’t worth anything, but they were still entertaining,” he adds with a cruel laugh.

Jimmy’s anger again flares up.  “Well, Terry, I’m here now!  Let Ike go an’ then you an’ me’ll finish this!”

“That’s one solution, but it isn’t the one I’ve been thinking of.”  Terry makes a quick motion to his men and before Jimmy knows it, they’ve surrounded him, pinning his arms to his sides.  In seconds, Jimmy’s hands are tied behind him and there is a man on either side restraining him.

“So now yer just gonna kill me?”  Jimmy states coldly.

“Wrong again, boy.  I’ve thought about this for a long time.  I loved my brother.  I spent my whole life protecting him, from our own father, from the bullies in town, and from the law, then in one blink of an eye, you took him away.  I’ve had to live a whole year with my grief, and the only thing that’s helped has been planning my revenge. If I kill you, it will be over, swift and painless, just like that.  Not much satisfaction in a revenge of that sort.  On the other hand, if you were to watch someone you care about suffer, knowing it was your fault, that just might make up for a little of the pain I’ve endured.”  As Terry explains this malicious plan, the man next to Ike puts away his gun and retrieves instead a long, black bull whip.  Jimmy doesn’t miss the flicker of fear that crosses Ike’s face.

“Don’t do this, Terry!!”  Jimmy growls fiercely, straining in vain against the men holding him.

Jimmy stands there, almost in disbelief at what he’s seeing.  Ike catches his eye and Jimmy is surprised to see not blame, but understanding and friendship.  His opinion of Ike is forever cemented as he watches him standing there under that whip, his pain showing silently on his face.  As he watches the whip strike Ike again and again, Jimmy thinks he’s going to be sick.

“STOP!” he yells over and over, but Terry just laughs at him and signals for Johnson to continue.

After a while, the only sensation Ike has is of pain.  Hot, burning pain that fills his whole body.  It’s long since clouded his vision and he can no longer see Jimmy.  His whole being is wrapped up in fighting off the darkness that threatens to envelope his mind.  ‘Concentrate on the pain’ he tells himself.  ‘Stay awake.’  But it’s no use, and soon his mind is folded up into numbing blackness.

“IKE!”

Jimmy cries out his friend’s name as he watches Ike’s knees buckle and he slumps into unconsciousness, still suspended upright from the tree by the rope around his wrists.  He can’t see Ike’s back, but the thought of what it must look like is enough to make him gag.  Still, the man continues to strike the unconscious boy.

“ENOUGH!”  Jimmy screams, straining against his captors, his face red with rage and hatred.

This time Terry motions for the torture to stop.  Ike hangs limply from the tree, Jimmy not sure whether he’s dead or alive.

“Don’t like watching your friends suffer, do you, Hickok?”  Terry sneers at Jimmy.

“Let me go!  I swear I’ll kill you with my bare hands!”  Jimmy has fire burning in his eyes now and a hatred inside like he’s never felt before.

“That’s something that might be very interesting to see you try and do.  It’s tempting, but unfortunately this little game today has already taken far too much of my time.”

Terry draws his gun and steps right in front of Jimmy, pointing it at him and studying him.  Underneath the steaming rage, he sees the pools of immense guilt that are forming in Jimmy’s soul and he nods, satisfied that his revenge has been successful.

Jimmy sees Terry pull his gun and prepares himself to die, shot down like a chained dog.  He stares defiantly and angrily back at Terry, but suddenly, Terry moves and Jimmy is hit hard on the head by the butt of his gun.  He barely has time to wonder that Terry didn’t shoot him before he falls to the ground, unconscious.

After a moment, Johnson moves to where Terry is standing over Jimmy.

“Why didn’t ya just shoot ‘im, Ralph?”  he asks. 

“Because I want him to have to live with what he has done to his friend.  Untie him and leave him there.  It’s time for us to move on.”

Several of the men do as he requests, and then leave Jimmy lying on the ground.

“What about him?”  Johnson asks, motioning toward Ike.

"Just leave him there,” Terry replies.  He walks over and mounts his horse, and the rest of the gang do likewise.  Before leaving, Terry turns and surveys the devastation that he’s caused.  He smiles a slow, satisfied smile and then kicks his horse and rides out.