Bonnie Mae and Sean play out their sibling rivalry with a prank war that gets a little out of hand.
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"I said no, and that's final."
"No buts, Bonnie Mae. Last thing you need is caffeine in your system."
The sixteen-year-old stomped her foot petulantly.
"I just wanna know what it tastes like!"
"Like dirt, most of the time," Arthur snorted in reply, feeding Caramel another oatcake. The palomino nickered affectionately, nudging his chest as a request for more. He chuckled, patting the horse fondly. "Sorry, girl, that's all you get."
"Arthur," Bonnie Mae whined. She folded her arms, turning to stare at the grass. "I know I act like a child, but the truth is I'm not."
The man turned around, met with big puppy eyes the colour of liquid honey. It suddenly occurred to him that he no longer had to crane his neck down quite so far to look her in the eye. When did his little girl get so grown up? She really wasn't that seven-year-old street urchin anymore -- a fact he was, admittedly, guilty of forgetting.
"I know," he said, reaching to put a hand on her shoulder, the warmth from his large palm seeping through her shirt. "I'm just tryna look out for ya, that's all."
His blue eyes were apologetic but stubborn, leaving no room for debate -- this was a fight she simply wasn't going to win. With a final resigned sigh, she turned and sulked away.
She headed back across camp, waving at Kieran as she passed. He was sitting alone at the scout fire as usual, savouring a cigarette -- another activity that Arthur had forbidden her from. She watched curiously as he blew out a cloud of smoke before lifting an arm to return her friendly gesture.
Such a weird way to pass the time, she thought to herself. Everyone seems to do it, but...why? Then Bonnie Mae remembered the awesome fire-breathing dragons she'd seen in Jack's storybooks, curls of smoke wafting from their nostrils, and all of a sudden, she felt she understood some of the allure.
"'Ey, Marshall! What's wit' the long face?" Sean called as she approached the group assembled round the coffee pot. "Ya been spendin' so long around the horses, you're startin' ta look like them, heh!"
Karen punched him in the arm, but Bonnie Mae just scrunched her nose at his joke, too amused to be offended. "It's Arthur," she confided, plopping herself down and dropping her head into her hand, picking up a stick to idly poke at the little cookfire. "I ain't allowed to do a lot of the things y'all do. I can't drink, or smoke, or go on jobs," she counted on her fingers. "I can't even leave camp on my own!" She sighed, looking glum as she stirred the dying embers. "He never lets me have any fun."
"Well, there's plenty you can do to have fun besides all that," Mary-Beth offered as consolation. She was about to regale her young friend with the endless wonders of romantic fiction when the loud-mouthed Irishman spoke up again.
"Indeed there is, wee Bonnie Mae," he said, "and if it's fun you're lookin' for, you've come to the right person! Fun's me middle name, y'know."
"For all of two minutes, if you're lucky," Karen muttered into her cup of coffee as she took another swig. If Sean heard her, he did an impressive job of hiding his wounded pride; his grin didn't dim as he crouched down to get level with the sulking girl, taking her by the shoulder.
"Now, then: what do ya know about practical jokes?"
"Do I look to be turnin' grey to you?"
"Uh...no, Arthur," Abigail squinted, peering down at his seated form. "Why's that?"
He ran a hand through his grown-out hair before replacing his hat upon his head.
"Take a guess," was all he said. She laughed.
"Ah, I see," she smiled, her pale blue eyes warm with understanding.
Arthur shook his head with a half-smile. "She's gonna be the death of me, Abigail, I swear to it. You seen what she's been gettin' up to?"
"I think I heard something about a bit of friendly competition going on between her and Sean," she said, lifting her cup to her lips for her morning dose of coffee.
"I'd be careful if I were you--" Arthur cut in hastily, "--one of them pesky varmints poured salt into the coffee pot the other day." He coughed deflectively, secretly convinced that his little girl was the culprit. Her way of gettin' back at me for the whole no-caffeine-for-you thing, I guess.
Abigail hesitated, but took a dubious sip anyway, relief settling her features as she detected nothing but the usual bitter and earthy taste of camp coffee. "They're just pranks," she shrugged, swishing the black liquid around in her cup. "So long as it ain't doing any harm, all's well."
He hummed in response, turning to stare out at the jetty and Flat Iron Lake beyond. She was right, there'd been no harm done so far, but he couldn't help but feel that it was only a matter of time. Bonnie Mae was a natural prankster in her own right. Arthur wished he'd had his camera on him when Sean went to saddle up for a job, only to find Ennis with his mane and tail braided and dressed with dainty pink bows. Of course, the self-proclaimed master of mischief wasn't content to let the stunt go unchallenged, and thus the ongoing prank war was declared.
"Let's just pray this little sibling rivalry of theirs don't get out of hand."
"Come on, now. They're good kids, and they ain't that dumb. Well, Bonnie Mae, at least," Abigail snorted.
"You're probably right. As usual," Arthur chuckled too as he rose to his feet. "Thanks, Abigail."
The raven-haired woman smiled sincerely. "You've done good, Arthur," she told him, a compliment he didn't take lightly coming from her. Arthur could only hope to be half as competent a parent as she was. "That girl of yours will be fine," she assured. He nodded gratefully, yet remained unable to shake the dread looming in his stomach.
Sean seemed to excel at getting himself caught up in trouble, and not dissimilarly, Bonnie Mae brimmed with restless energy, unpredictable and one misstep away from disaster. The both of them working in tandem? God help us all.
Nothing good could come of this, he could just feel it. Something was bound to go wrong, sooner or later.
And one night, it finally did.
A scream cut through the symphony of snoring and cicadas, alerting all but the deepest of sleepers -- namely Uncle, who would probably sleep right through the trumpets of rapture. Bonnie Mae, on the other hand, jolted in her bed, heart thumping as she froze and listened hard. Beside her, Mary-Beth stirred too, and when another shout came from not too far away, the other girl abruptly gasped in recognition.
Mary-Beth was already running to the scene before Bonnie Mae could even get to her feet. Struggling to keep up with her friend, she hurriedly followed, noticing a few others also making their way to the source of the scuffle, while the rest simply sat up in their bedrolls, not quite alarmed enough to jump to their feet, but still curious to know what the fuss was about.
Those who flocked to the scene stopped short, finding Kieran seemingly unharmed, but -- much to everyone's shock -- engaged in a physical confrontation where it seemed he was, in fact, winning. He had wrestled his would-be attacker to the ground and had his hands around the other man's throat.
"You fucker!" he cried. "What're you tryin' to do?!"
Bonnie Mae gasped. I've never heard him cuss like that before! She'd never seen her soft-spoken friend lose his temper like this...and it scared her. Kieran's eyes were wild like a cornered animal, ready to dig its claws in and fight for its life.
"Whoa, whoa! Break it up!" It was Arthur, shoving his way past the onlookers to pull Kieran off his assailant. Now able to get a better look, Bonnie Mae caught a flash of red hair and a pasty face that was all too familiar. She grimaced.
"Would someone like to tell me what the hell is going on here?" The atmosphere became riddled with tension as Dutch stepped in, hand on his gun and dark eyes smouldering like black coals as he levelled an accusatory glare at Kieran. Molly lingered several paces behind him, a shawl clutched around her shoulders as she anxiously watched from a distance.
"I was just tryna have a bit o' fun with 'im, Dutch--"
"You had a knife to my neck!"
"I was only tryin' to shave you, ya miserable git," Sean spat weakly, swiping the back of his hand across his bleeding nose. "You know, as a joke."
"Of course, silly me," Kieran snarled sarcastically, shrugging Arthur's hands off him. "I thought you were one of Colm's boys, ya damn idiot! I could've killed you!"
"You making threats now, O'Driscoll?" Dutch said coldly as he stepped forward, just begging for Kieran to give him an excuse to put a bullet between his eyes. Bonnie Mae saw her poor friend wince at the name, a stinging reminder of how little the gang's leader still thought of him.
A diplomatic hand on Dutch's shoulder was Kieran's saving grace. "Easy there, Dutch. This is clearly just a big misunderstanding. A very reckless prank gone awry," Hosea said, turning to shoot a stern look of disapproval at Sean. "Sneaking up on a man in the middle of the night, brandishing a weapon? Why, Mr MacGuire is just lucky Kieran doesn't make a habit of sleeping with his gun on him!"
"Might be a good idea, just sayin'," Arthur quietly suggested. Kieran just huffed. He shouldn't have to fear for his life in the middle of camp. Not from someone he might have considered a friend.
"Fine," Dutch yielded, but not without snarling one last warning in Kieran's face: "If you so much as threaten anyone in this gang again, I'll kill you myself. Do you understand me?"
Kieran held his stony gaze for a long moment before ultimately bowing his head in submission.
"And you--" Dutch jabbed a finger at Sean, "--no more fooling around, or you'll be next!" Sean flinched as the gang's leader stepped over him, retreating to his tent and grumbling to Molly about the splitting headache that had come over him. A tense silence ensued.
"Well, I have to say, I'm disappointed, but not the least bit surprised," Hosea sighed, shaking his head as he hauled Sean to his feet. "You had that one coming."
"So the boy got a lucky shot in," the Irishman sniffed, clutching his nose.
Bonnie Mae felt a sense of deja vu. As she recalled, Sean had formally introduced himself to the gang's newest addition by hurling his thick skull right into Kieran's unsuspecting nose, leaving the poor boy in a similarly pitiful state. How's that for a taste of your own medicine?
"Everyone, go back to sleep. That's enough excitement for one night," Hosea addressed the loitering onlookers, shooing them back to their bedrolls. "Miss Gaskill?"
"--Yes?" she squeaked, having crept up to place a comforting hand on Kieran's arm following Dutch's departure. She froze, but didn't take her hand back, waiting to see what Hosea would say.
He said nothing, but looked between the two of them and gave her a nod. She reciprocated with one of her own, apparently understanding what was meant without a single word. Bonnie Mae, however, stood there scratching her head as the crowd dispersed, wondering when exactly Hosea and Mary-Beth had achieved telepathic communication. Well, they are real smart...maybe I oughta read more.
Bonnie Mae spied Sean looking over at Kieran, seemingly debating whether to go and say something. Before he could risk making things any worse than he already had, Miss Grimshaw snagged him by the ear, chastising him for his utter disregard for common sense as she dragged him, yelping and swearing, over to the medicine wagon to tend his wounds.
"Kieran, you're bleeding," Mary-Beth gasped softly, gently coaxing him to turn his face for a better look. Sure enough, there was a smear of red where the razor blade had swiped him across the jaw, just under his ear. Alarmed by the sight of the blood, Bonnie Mae suddenly found her voice again, rushing to her friend's side.
"No," Kieran snapped, still scowling at Sean's retreating back. Mary-Beth frowned, reaching an arm around him to hold him more securely.
"Hey," she whispered, urging him to focus on her instead. Panic still raged in his eyes, and his hands still shook, but the moment his gaze met hers, steel blue meeting jade green, he instantly felt he could breathe a little easier. "You're fine now. I promise."
Kieran nodded as if entranced, his eyes never straying from hers. She could've told him anything in that moment and he would have taken her word as gospel, straight from the lips of an angel.
She smiled softly, hoping it would be a comfort to him. "Come on," she murmured, gently taking him by the hand to lead him away. "Let's get you cleaned up."
Bonnie Mae made to follow, only to have someone step in front of her, obstructing her path.
"This is exactly the kinda thing I was worried about," Arthur sighed, sounding more weary than he had in a long time. "That coulda gone sideways real fast. You saw that, didn't ya?"
She cast her eyes to the ground. "M-hm."
"It's all fun and games until someone gets hurt," Arthur said, the statement stained with memories of laughter and loss. He knelt down, taking his daughter gently by the arms. "I don't want anything happenin' to ya, Bonnie Mae." She chanced looking up to meet his intense blue gaze, swimming with spectres of a long-buried past. "Do you understand now?"
Did she ever. Waking up to the sound of one of her friends screaming in the dead of night was a fright she hoped never to endure again. She would never have forgiven herself if someone had gotten hurt in the name of their fun.
"I understand, Arthur. And...I'm sorry."
Another short sigh left him, but this time it was a sound of relief. He pulled Bonnie Mae into his chest for a bear hug, warm and strong. Her face was still sullen when they parted but quickly morphed into a scrunched nose and a mildly annoyed giggle as Arthur playfully pinched her cheek. He gave a small, tired smile of his own, ruffling her hair with a large hand. "Now, go on, get to bed."
"G'night, Arthur," she yawned, steering herself back to the sleeping area she shared with the girls. Her bedroll soon came into view, ready and waiting, yet Bonnie Mae didn't immediately sink back onto it as she so dearly wanted to. There were whispers coming from behind the wagon, and the vacant bedroll beside her own gave her a pretty good clue as to who it could be.
"This might sting a little--"
Stealing a peek around the back of the wagon, Bonnie Mae could see Kieran perched on a crate while Mary-Beth carefully cleaned the blood from his cheek.
"You don't have to do this, y'know," Kieran mumbled, sounding almost ashamed.
Mary-Beth didn't miss a beat. "I know," she said simply, "but I want to."
Her patient made no further attempts to resist as she finished up her task, removing the last traces of blood from his beard. Bonnie Mae's keen eye noticed her running her fingers through the hair a little more than necessary as she did so, as if she had really just wanted an excuse to touch it.
"There," Mary-Beth said at last, admiring her handiwork. She leaned in, placing a sweet peck on the afflicted cheek for good measure. Her hand lingered, thumb swiping tenderly over his cheekbone. "All better now."
From where she was standing, Bonnie Mae thought Kieran looked ready to faint. His hand came up to settle on Mary-Beth's wrist as if he needed to hold onto her to steady himself. Her name left his lips as little more than a breath, a prayer, a secret oath.
Bonnie Mae smiled to herself as she turned her prying eyes away, leaving the sweethearts to have their moment. Romance wasn't really something she understood, but damned if she didn't know love when she saw it. Two of her best friends were falling for each other right in front of her eyes, and it brought her joy in a way she didn't have the words to explain.
I guess that's all I really want, she realised as she laid down on her bedroll once more. For my friends -- my family -- to be happy.
This life of theirs was far from perfect, she knew that. But in spite of all the running and the danger and everything else, Bonnie Mae loved her mismatched little outlaw family. Crude and coarse and more than a little criminal, but they weren't all bad. The camaraderie was good, for the most part. Even Sean and Kieran had gotten over their rocky first encounter and managed to get along fairly well, until tonight.
That MacGuire feller still had plenty of grovelling to do before Kieran would forgive him for his miserably backfired prank, but Bonnie Mae knew Sean wouldn't rest until he made things right. He could be a scoundrel when he wanted to be, but he had a good heart, and he cared about his friends just as much as she did. Bonnie Mae was sure things would blow over between the two boys in no time. All Sean needed to do was apologise.
He'll figure it out, she told herself as she closed her eyes. It ain't that hard.
"Why is this so feckin' hard?!"
"'Ey, Marshall--" Sean stumbled over to where the young miss was lazily braiding her chestnut hair. His nose didn't look too crooked, she noted, but some bruises had come up nicely overnight, including a mild case of a black eye. Dang, that boy can really pack a punch!
"Bonnie Mae, you 'aven't seen Kieran around 'ere, 'ave ya?" the battered Irishman sighed in defeat.
"Um, no, actually. I haven't," the girl suddenly realised.
Was he so upset about last night that he ran away? No, he wouldn't go and do a thing like that....would he?
Sean swore under his breath. "How in blue blazes am I meant to ask the feller's forgiveness if I can't bloody find 'im?!" He turned his green eyes on Bonnie Mae once more. "Look, if you see 'im, tell 'im I want a word, would ya?" The girl tugged on her finished braid as she watched Sean resume his search.
I hope Kieran's okay...oh--what am I doing? She stood up, dusting off her skirt and scanning what she could see of camp. Let's see. He's not with the horses...he's not at the scout campfire...he's not with--wait, she stopped in her tracks. I haven't seen her this morning, either! But I know she came back to bed just before I fell asleep--
She jumped, turning around to see Mary-Beth's hand and face peeking out from inside one of the covered wagons, beckoning urgently. She obediently scurried over, letting herself be pulled up to join her friend in the back of the wagon, where she was somewhat startled to find Kieran also tucked into the cramped space.
"Kieran! I was wondering where you were. How's the face? Also, Sean was lookin' for ya--" she rambled, cut off as Mary-Beth whirled her round so they could get right to the point.
"Listen, you have to keep it a secret--"
"What, that you two lovebirds have been nestin' in here all mornin'? Heh, sure, I can do that--"
"No, that's not--we weren't--oh, you're terrible!" Mary-Beth's cheeks glowed hot, while Kieran paled, pressing himself further into the shadows. She was only teasing, and what she was so wickedly implying was far from true, but none of that would matter if one of the others were to get the wrong idea.
If last night's confrontation proved anything, it was that his presence was still barely tolerated by the gang's leader, a man who -- much to her discomfort -- appeared to have designs of his own on Kieran's lady love. If Dutch ever found out that the lovely young belle of camp had decided to reserve her affections for him, the gang's whipping boy, the former O'Driscoll...it wouldn't end well for him, Kieran knew that much.
"Listen," Mary-Beth began again firmly, "we've been in here avoiding Sean because we're planning a prank of our own, to even the score and end this stalemate once and for all."
Bonnie Mae just blinked. "Oh. Well, good luck with that!" Her friends floundered as she began whistling a tune, swinging her legs over the edge of the wagon to leave.
"Wha--wait! Where are you goin'?" Kieran hissed after her.
She paused, twisting to look back over her shoulder. "Arthur doesn't want me getting involved in any more tomfoolery, so, sorry, but I can't help ya."
"But we need you, Bonnie," Mary-Beth pleaded, Kieran nodding earnestly in agreement. "You're the best prankster there ever was!"
"Flattery won't work on me this time, Betsy. Sorry."
"...I'll tell Pearson it was you who dropped the skunk pelt in the bottom of the pot."
With a look of pure innocence, Mary-Beth revealed the little leather-bound book she held in her hand. Bonnie Mae checked her satchel in disbelief. Sure enough, her diary had been swiped right off her person by only the deftest pickpocket she'd ever met -- and Bonnie Mae had met plenty.
"Ugh, alright," she caved, snatching the book back. "What've you got planned so far?"
Kieran cleared his throat. "Just for the record, this wasn't my idea. I was just going to give Sean the cold shoulder for a while, but Hosea insisted--"
They jumped, turning to find Karen peering in on the odd meeting in progress with a lit cigarette between her fingers. "What're y'all doin'?"
The trio stared mutely back at her, prompting her to raise a shrewd eyebrow.
"Sean," the three confirmed in unison.
Karen's eyes crinkled and a barely repressed smirk twitched upon her lips. "In that case, let me give you a tip." She leaned in and the others huddled in close to hear as she lowered her voice. "We've all seen what a terrible shot that boy is, right? And Mary-Beth, you know how impossible it is tryin' to get him to read--"
"What I'm getting at is that there's a reason for all that, and it's not just him being dense," Karen continued. "Sean's blind as a bat. Says it's always foggy in his world." And with that, she stood up straight once more, bringing her cigarette back to her lips. "Do with that information what you will."
"That makes so much sense now..." Mary-Beth mused aloud as the blonde walked away. "No wonder he had such a hard time trying to read; he can't see the words properly!"
Kieran hummed, scratching his beard. "What can we do with that, though?" He and Mary-Beth glanced at each other and both turned to Bonnie Mae. Those golden eyes were squinted, deep in plotting. They could virtually see the cogs turning in her brain. It didn't take long before she looked up with a telltale gleam in her eye and a triumphant grin slowly stretching across her face.
An excited giggle slipped past her lips as she tugged her co-conspirators in to hear the plan, her mind already envisioning the glorious payoff.
If she was going to pull off one last prank, she was determined to make it her greatest yet.
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It's been a while! This one's a bit long, and I'm not sure it's very good, but oh well.
Also known as "The Time Kieran Snapped and Nearly Killed a Man with His Bare Hands" or something
