Hiding in Plain Sight

   Hiding In Plain Sight

Suzanne Marsh

Hico, Texas 1948

The octogenarian sat peacefully drinking a beer, waiting for some of the boys in the area to talk to him; about his gun slinging days. Days, he had tried to forget, days that broke his mama’s heart. He thought about those things now, he would be ninety soon. The good old days seemed to have disappeared from his horizon. A boy of twelve walked over to him:

“Hey, draw old man.” The boy waited as the old man gave him a sharp look:

“Boy, you don’t ever say that to me or any gunslinger, ya hear?”

“I ain’t a feared of you, I bet you never drew no gun anyway.”

“I’ll tell ya boy, you come back later today after I am done with my business, we will

go shoot some tin cans off of a fence.”

“I’ll be there old timer.”

“You, do that boy.”

The old man sighed, he disliked having to show off his skill with a gun, but maybe it was time to finally tell the truth about his true identity.

The man entered the small beer joint, he looked carefully wondering which was elderly man was the one he sought. Then he saw the old man with the large straw hat. He, knew that was the man he was looking for. He asked the old man politely if he could sit down:

“Sure, have a seat.”

“They tell me you knew Billy the Kid.”

“Yes, I did. What do ya want to know?”

“I am looking for the man who claims to be Billy the Kid.”

“Mister, I don’t claim, I am.”

“Then tell me your story please. I can help you clear your name if you really are Henry

McCarty, aka William Bonny aka Billy the Kid.”

The old man sighed, he had been telling folks around Hico for years he was Billy the Kid, now this stranger wants to help him clear his name. ‘Why not’ thought the old man. I can prove it. His voice, raspy he began:

July 14^th, 1881

“It was a hot summer night, July 14, 1881, it is a night I will never forget. I snuck into

Pete Maxwell/s house to see my girl, his daughter Paulita. She was such a pretty girl,

I could not help myself but go to her whenever the opportunity arose. Time had no bearing on

how long I could stay. We loved each other, that was the big thing. I was twenty-one years

of age back then. Everything was new and exciting to me. Guns, those were my protection.

Rumors were that Pat Garrett was coming after me. He didn’t scare me, we had been friends

until he became a lawman, and I was another gunslinger with a price on my head. Fact is

Pat Garrett and I both fought the Lincoln County War on the side of John Chisum and John

Tunstall. Those were some crazy times. Pat as I said, was my friend until he became

sheriff, that changed everything between us. There was a reward of five hundred dollars on

my head, put there by Governor Lew Wallace. Garrett, I suppose wanted the money. He

caught me once, killed two of my gang Charlie Bowdre and Tom O’Folliard. He mistook

Charlie for me and killed him.

I knew then that if I did not leave Fort Sumner before to long, I stood a good

chance of bein killed. I wasn’t willing to take that chance. I can still hear the booted feet

of Pat Garret, entering Pete Maxwell’s room. Billy Barlow was about my build. I remember

hearing someone asking “Quien es?’ There was a pistol shot, a scream. I knew I had to get

out of Fort Sumner, right then. I rode of the border into Mexico, where I hid out of two

years. Once I felt it safe enough I went to Hico, Texas. It was a very small town then, a

good place to stay lost. Mr. Morrison, do you think you could help me get that pardon

I was promised. I kept my word to Governor Wallace, he did not keep his word to me.”

Morrison, thought about that for several minutes.

“Yes, I will help you, but you are going to have to convince me that you truly are

Billy the Kid aka William Bonny.”

“That is all I can ask. How do we prove it Mr. Morrison?”

“If you really are Billy the Kid who is buried in you grave?”

“I guess Billy Barlow is. I ain’t got much more time on this here earth Mr. Morrison

I want to clear my name. Yeah, I shot men, mostly in self defense. I led a gang. I

knew Dolan, I knew he killed Mr. Tunstall. John Chisum turned his back on me after

I helped him. I ain’t bitter about that. I come here to Hico, I have led a good life here.

I can show you each scar from a bullet or knife that I have, you will find the same scars

on Billy Bonny.”

“Brushy, will you show me those scars.”

“Sure, Mr. Morrison.”

He pulled up his shirt, sure enough, Morrison noted the scars were in the same places.

“Brushy, why did Pat Garrett think it was you he killed and Deputy Poe said no it

wasn’t you.”

“Pat, I think was trying to give me a chance to get out of Fort Sumner alive, I guess he

figured he owed me that much. He shot Billy Barlow, we were about the same build, he

spoke Spanish, same as me. He identified Billy as me, Poe, knew it wasn’t me. I went out

the window in Paulita’s room, I rode until I hit the Mexican border.”

“Brushy, would you be will to shoot some tine cans off the fence. Somehow I remember

hearing somewhere that Billy the Kid could shoot two cans at once off of a fence line.”

“Yes, Mr. Morrison, I can do that.”

Billy and Mr. Morrison walked out of Hico, where there fence lines. Cans were set up. Brushy was almost eighty nine years of age. He wrapped his holsters around his still slim waist as they walked. When the cans were arranged Billy drew his pistols he knocked all the cans off the fence within less that thirty seconds. Mr. Morrison, now had no doubt this was Billy The Kid aka William Bonny, aka Brushy Bill Roberts. The folks in Hico, believe to this day that Brushy Bill was in actuality Billy the Kid.