Renewal 3 - Your Basic Swiss Family (5 page)

“Just like the Judge,” Terry said. “He’s only worried about himself.”

“Yeah, just like that. The sad part is that his father was a good man. He looked out for his people. We fought together. He’s probably rolling over in his grave right now.”

“Well, thank you for your trust, Bill. I never knew I was anything but a troublemaker.”

“People are tired. You ask too many questions, and they are too tired to answer. Sound about right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it takes hard work to build up from nothing. Sometimes you have to keep pushing, no matter how tired you get. If people always did that, we would live in a different world.”

Terry nodded silently, and gazed across the field.

A pickup truck appeared on the road west of the community. It left a billowing cloud of dust that glowed in the sunset light.

“Ah, here comes your ride. Let’s get your bike out to the road.” Bill said.

The two men, young and old, rose from the rebuilt folding chairs and scooped up the empty beer bottles. Bill showed Terry the plastic bin where they went, to be washed and refilled. Terry leaned his bike upright, and pushed it through the close clipped grass, in the long shadows thrown by the horse apples along the western fence line. The old blue truck rolled down the road towards them, leaving a black plume of diesel smoke in the clear air. When it reached them, it practically stood on its nose in a hard stop.

“She’s just showing off.” Bill said.

The driver of the truck was none other than Red Sally herself. Terry didn’t fail to notice the obvious setup, but he smiled to see her just the same.

“Hey there, Lazybones. I see you’re just standing around again. What does it take to get some work out of you?” Sally said, smiling back at him.

“Well, ma’am...” Terry said, drawing it out, “They say stand; I stand. They say work; I work. What do you say?”

“I say get your ass in the truck.” Sally replied.

“Delicate little flower like yourself, using words like that...” Terry tsked at her and shook his head. He and Bill lifted the bike into the bed of the pickup.

Bill shook Terry’s hand and said, “Ok, remember, get on the end of the Judge’s line if you can. If shots are fired, dive in the ditch. We’ll take care of the rest.” He paused and then added, “Good luck with that,” Bill was shooting his eyes sideways towards his rebellious daughter.

“Ok, Bill. Thanks again.” Terry said with a what-can-you-do expression. “See you in the morning.”

Terry walked around and stepped up into the passenger seat. He fumbled a few seconds with the latch, since he had never ridden in the cab of a truck. Only in the back, as part of a crew. Sally was strapped in behind the wheel, looking almost good enough to risk losing an appendage touching her, but Terry liked having his hands, so he controlled the urge.

She dropped the shift lever, and the truck made a clunking sound, which was immediately drowned by the sound of the engine as Sally executed a U-turn that bounced them halfway into the opposite ditch before she wheeled the truck straight and accelerated to the west.

“Hey, we need to go back to Manchester, Sally.” Terry said, looking over his shoulder.

“Well, we can’t just drive in on the main highway. That would be stupid, Stupid.” Sally said rolling her eyes at him. “We’ll circle around to the south, where we can sneak in. You live out by the old high school, right?”

“I don’t know why you’re asking. I’m sure you read my dossier.”

“I did, and I thought you’d be taller.”

“Well, you can’t have everything.” Terry said, knowing that six-four was tall enough.

“Which is why I’m stuck driving you around when I could be eating dinner.”

“Yeah, I can tell you hate to drive,” he said, watching the trees whip past in a blur, and bracing his hands on the dashboard against the g-forces she was generating.

She smiled and said, “Yeah, I ‘d even put up with you for an excuse to drive.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, with extra faux sweetness.

“What’s in the bag?” Terry said, laying his hand on the cloth bag between them.

“Oh, that’s mostly to keep you on your side of the truck.”

“No worries there. I was just thinking about how I wouldn’t risk a finger on your side.”

“So, you thought about it.”

“Only for the briefest instant. You couldn’t even measure the time I thought about doing anything near your freckly body.”

“I don’t have freckles on...” She caught herself, but a bit too late.

Terry grinned at her.

“Anyway, it’s your supper. I wouldn’t have brought you anything, but Mom made me do it.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to thank her for saving me from your heard little heart, and my empty stomach.”

“Don’t eat it all yourself. I like my men lean.”

“Your men? How many men do you have?”

“Oh, dozens, at least,” Sally replied waving airily.

“That’s not what I heard.”

Her brow furrowed, and Terry thought that was as beautiful as her smile.

“They lie... What did you hear?”

“I heard that they run far away when they see you coming. They hide in the barn with the scared babies.”

“Babies can’t feed themselves you know...”

“Why don’t you scare their mothers into the barn, then?”

“Women are tougher. They don’t scare as easy.”

“Ah. That explains everything.” Terry said, watching her watch the road.

“Doesn’t it? That’s why you had my head on your shoulder and you didn’t even try to kiss me.”

“It would be mighty hard to talk without my lips. I think I’ll keep them.”

“Or, you were probably chicken because the whole gathering was watching our every move.”

“That, too,” he agreed. “Just today, Jeffry told me it was a miracle I even lived through the dance.”

“He did not. Jeffry loves me,” she said, wearing a glorious pout.

“Yeah, your dad probably pays him extra to be your friend.”

“We call it ‘hazard pay’.”

Terry laughed out loud, and watched her pout some more.

Sally slowed down and pulled the truck off the road next to a square patch of fir trees that looked like an old, overgrown tree farm. It was almost full darkness, and the moon was peeking through the tops of the trees directly ahead.

“This about as close as we can get,” she said. “You’ll have to ride your bike the rest of the way. The highway is a hundred yards straight ahead, and the high school is left about half a mile.”

Terry knew exactly where he was, but didn’t mention it. He was clever enough to let Sally keep the upper hand. “Ok, well thanks for the ride. It was my first, you know.”

“You know, there’s no one watching us now,” she said, turning to face Terry.

He felt cornered somehow. In a very short time, she had become important to him, and that was entirely different than sneaking kisses from girls behind the high school. The building was no longer used, which made it perfect for all kinds of sneaking. He ignored his pounding heart, leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

She looked shocked. “That was pathetic, Terry Shelton!”

That was a go-signal, if ever there was one. He leaned back in and placed a soft kiss right on her lips. He backed up just far enough to see that her eyes were closed, and went back in for a real kiss, one that went on long enough that they both forgot to breathe and pulled away gasping. Terry touched his fingers to his own lips.

“Hey! They’re still there,” he said.

Sally punched him square in the chest, and his breath rushed out in a whoof.

“Get out!” she yelled, looking half happy and half outraged.

Terry got out of the truck, walked around the back, and hoisted the bike out. He wheeled it up to her window. “Thanks again for the ride. Can I still have my supper?”

“Only if you give me another kiss,” she said.

“Be happy to...” Terry approached and almost made contact when she bit him, hard, on the lower lip. He wasn’t really surprised. He grabbed the back of her neck with his left hand and slid his fingers up into her hair, pulling her in for a serious kiss. She would only have the upper hand for so long. When he was satisfied that she was no longer fighting him, he released her and leaned back, wiping a bit of blood from his lips with the back of his hand. He enjoyed her face, appearing feral and slightly desperate with his blood on her chin, and gave her a long intense look.

After what felt like a very long frozen moment, she shuddered, and turned to pick the bag off the seat. She held it out to him in a manner that suggested it was full of dead cats. As soon as he took it, Sally started the truck and drove away.

Chapter 3 - 5

The morning was humid, filled with a barely golden mist that promised another hot, sunny day. Terry pedaled slowly down the highway, using the time to wake up. His parents had reacted with amazement at the fried chicken and biscuits that Sally had given him. For them, it was a holiday feast. When they had eaten their fill, they started in with the questions. Usually, that kind of food was only available for those who were willing to risk the work gangs to steal it. Terry had simply reminded them that he had a job now, and that it was something he could afford from time to time. They had not believed him.

He passed the empty lots approaching downtown, where the fallen building had been stripped for materials long since. He made the left turn on Hillsboro Boulevard, and cruised through the rebuilt part of town, where proprietors cleaned their shops in anticipation of a day that would attract some customers. Most of them were willing to work on a barter system. If they demanded new dollars or even county scrip, they would wait a long time to make a sale. Some had deals with the wealthy families, which meant they were not worried with the common rabble and their trade goods. They could afford to wait for real money. Everyone else knew who to avoid.

Terry pulled up at the county engineering office, and found the door unlocked. He pushed his bike through the optimistically named lobby and into its usual parking spot behind the file cabinets. He waved at Dusty, who was the only one there this early in the morning, and locked his new weapons in his desk drawer. Today, of all days it would not do to let anyone see the fine gun and it’s tooled leather holster. To be safe, he locked up his new knife as well, and hung his old knife on his belt. Then he looked at the big mechanical wall clock and saw that he still had twenty minutes to spare. He went to Dusty’s office and waited for his boss to gesture him into a chair.

“Well, here we go,” Terry said, heaving an anxious sigh.

“Yep. I assume Bill knows what’s coming.”

“Yeah, he knows. He seemed to take it pretty well.”

“He would. That’s why he’s been mayor for so long. Nothing shakes him.”

“He gave us some instructions.”

“Stand on the end if we can? Run for the ditch when the shooting starts? Otherwise, look stupid?”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“That’s the other reason he’s in charge. He plans for everything.”

“Ah,” Terry said, as if that explained everything.

“Ok, you head on over to the mansion. I’ll come along in a few minutes. Don’t take any crap off his men,” Dusty said, waving Terry towards the door.

“Ok, but if they have guns, I’ll probably try for polite.”

Dusty laughed. “Yeah, always a good policy. I meant verbal crap.”

“Right. Ok,” Terry said with a worried smile. He scuffed the chair backwards as he got up and headed out the door.

Terry reached the mansion and saw two pickup trucks parked right in front of the door. There were a dozen tough looking and well-armed men standing on the porch, but they seemed content to ignore him. He leaned on one of the round entry columns and stared anxiously towards the town square. He would feel much better when Dusty arrived.

Over the background noise of men conversing about their tough and likely illegal exploits, basic dick measuring to Terry’s ears, he heard the Judge inside, hollering at someone about horse feed. He tried to ignore it, but he jumped when he heard the front door slam open, and turned to see Jerry Doan Jenkins stalk out onto the porch. The Judge was wearing what looked like an old western gunfighter getup. Black pants, black duster, black hat, white shirt with frills, and a string tie. Black cowboy boots, of course. Terry looked at the twin revolvers hanging low on the Judge’s hips and decided it was all just a little overkill, even though he decided that black was an appropriate choice for a high caliber asshole.

“Where’s that worthless boss of yours, boy?” the Judge asked, much louder than was necessary.

“I’m sure he’ll be here in a minute, sir.” Terry replied.

One of the Judge’s men mocked him with a falsetto, “I’m sure he’ll be here, sir.”

Finally, Terry spotted Dusty approaching, more from the man’s shambling gait than from any detail at this distance. Dusty appeared to be taking his time, maybe just to annoy the Judge. When he finally strolled across the parking lot, the Judge held up his wrist. “You’re late, Baer!”

“I have a job to do, mayor.” Dusty replied, with no show of respect.

The Judge appeared about to say something sharp, but thought better of it, and just narrowed his eyes at Dusty instead. Terry could almost see the Judge thinking of ways to make Dusty pay.

“Let’s load up, men!” the Judge ordered, still much louder than was required.

The men filed into position as if it were rehearsed. Maybe it was. Three got into the cab of the second truck, and the Judge rode shotgun in the lead truck with a driver and a little guy in the middle. Dusty and Terry were ordered into the bed of the Judge’s truck, and were jostled to the back, while their three new bed buddies took the less windy spots right behind the cab. When the last of the men piled into the back of the second truck, the Judge yelled for the little convoy to head out.

The Judge’s driver turned the key, and nothing happened. He turned it again... and nothing. The Judge was bitching at the driver, who got out of the truck with a ball peen hammer and went round to the fender on the Judge’s side. He whacked hard on the starter ten or twelve times, and then tried again. This time, the diesel clattered to life, and settled into a steady idle. Terry saw the driver pat the truck on the dashboard, like it was a pet.