by N. C. Reed
“Everything go well?” Clay asked. He was feeling pretty good, after a couple of good days.
“Went just fine, and we warmed him up for Deputy Holloway and Sienna,” Shane promised. “Pickett was wishing for Holloway, by the way. Hey, that rhymed!” he chuckled. “Anyway, he mentioned Holloway having lived there and wished he was still around. Also mentioned that he was probably here, assuming he had recovered. Had some good things to say about you and your family. Oh, and informed me that the guy Zachary shot was the same one that tried to grab your truck last year and got his tooth knocked out. Small world, huh?”
“Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy,” Clay assured him. “Were they getting the work done?”
“Almost half-way finished when we left, according to Mayor Pickett,” Shane nodded. “They must have gotten some organization among them between our first visit and today. Maybe they just needed some reassurance they weren't alone.”
“Well, so long as they remember 'not alone' doesn't equal 'dependent',” Clay said.
“No, I don't think so,” Shane shook his head. “That Greevy fella has two friends that had been helping cause problems and Pickett mentioned them. When I offered to try and deal with them he turned me down. Said there was almost five hundred people there, in and around town, and if two or three men bullied them, then they deserved it. Tough old bird, he is.”
“Well, he's not wrong,” Clay admitted. “Five hundred,” he sighed, the number rolling through his mind. “Used to be almost two thousand people in town.”
“Doubt all of them would have been there when it happened,” Shane reminded him. “And let’s face it, Clay. A hard six months since then, with a winter thrown in for good measure. At least the people that survived are probably a hardy breed.”
“There is that,” Clay nodded slowly. “Don't seem like much, though,” he added softly.
“Take what you can get where you can find it,” Shane tried to cheer him up. “All we can do.”
“Yeah. All we can do. You guys square away and then knock off. Good job.”
“Thank you, oh Great One,” Shane bowed, laughing.
“Smart ass.”
***
“Well, you're definitely breathing better today,” Patricia said as she put her stethoscope away. “The breathing treatment must have helped some. Still coughing up phlegm?” she asked Janice.
“Yes, but not quite so bad,” the girl nodded. “And his coughing isn't as hard, labored I mean, as before.”
“Excellent,” Patricia nodded. “Old Man, you may live a bit longer despite my best efforts,” she teased, patting Leon's leg.
“Yeah, yeah,” he groused from behind his mask. “Kick an old man when he's down, why don't ya?”
“If you aren't careful you’ll live to be a hundred,” Patricia kissed his jaw, causing Leon to splutter.
“Stop that!”
Patricia laughed, a sound almost foreign to her own ears these days. She was more relieved than she could say by Leon's apparent improvement.
“I'm going home, but remember to call me at once if you need me for anything,” she told Janice.
“I will,” the teen promised faithfully.
“See you tomorrow, Leon,” Patricia promised.
“I’ll probably be here,” he groused in return. She laughed again as she headed out the door. In the distance she could see vehicles rolling into the old Troy place and knew that Robert would be home soon. Even better.
A good end to the day.
***
Trudy Leighton had a secret. One she guarded as closely as the government had guarded nuclear launch codes.
She loved babies.
She pretended she didn't, and would swear when asked that it wasn't true, but it was. She wasn't as wild about children as they grew older and became little trouble magnets, but babies were awesome in her book. Adorable, non-judgmental, and even when you were changing a diaper and it smelled to high heaven, babies just . . . smelled good. She didn't know how anyone could be around a laughing, happy baby and still be a curmudgeon. She certainly couldn't.
“Who's a good little baby, hm?” she asked the tiny girl who had made a mess of her diaper. The girl, who they thought was closing on two years old, gurgled back happily as her arms and legs worked back and forth, clearly pleased with the adult's attention.
“Who made a mess, hm?” Trudy continued as she cleaned the baby with wet rag, wishing it were a baby wipe. “Who made a mess? You did, didn't you? You made a mess for Aunt Trudy to clean up, didn't you?” she smiled and the baby, who they called Tammy, gurgled again, trying to make words.
“What are you doing?” another adult voice snapped, bringing Trudy's head up abruptly, expecting to see one of the other children doing something wrong. Instead she found herself practically face-to-face with the woman she had grown to consider her nemesis; Malitha George.
The older woman was obvious in her dislike, perhaps even hatred of Trudy, but Trudy had ignored it thus far. She was accustomed especially to old people being so . . . hateful. It just was what it was.
“Me?” Trudy tried to hide her surprise. Wasn't it obvious what she was doing?
“Who am I talking to?” Malitha snapped.
“Well, in Texas, we call this changing a dirty diaper,” Trudy shot back shortly, sprinkling a small amount of baby powder on little Tammy's bottom before pinning the new diaper in place. “And boy do I mean dirty, huh?” she gently shook Tammy's foot, much to the baby's delight.
“That's not what it looked like!” Malitha almost snarled.
“Maybe you should wear glasses, then?” Trudy straightened up, picking Tammy up from the rough table where she had been laying. “Or maybe you folks just do it differently? This was how I was taught to change a diaper. Remove the dirty one, clean the baby, powder or ointment and then fresh diaper. All done!” she said the last to Tammy, the baby squealing happily as Trudy used her free hand to tickle her tummy.
“Give me that child!” Malitha demanded, reaching for the baby in Trudy's arms. Trudy turned deftly to keep herself and the baby from the older woman's grasp.
“What is your issue, old woman?” Trudy demanded, moving away from the limping Malitha. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“You're what's wrong!” Malitha told her, still trying to grab the baby from Trudy's arms. “Everything about you is wrong! You have no place here, and especially no place caring for children!”
“Wow,” Trudy replied. “Judgmental, much, old woman? Color me surprised. No, I'm kidding,” she added with a snort. “Whatever your problem is with me, you need to keep it away from these children. They don't deserve all of this drama of yours. Neither do I, comes to that, but they certainly don't.”
“There won't be any drama once you're removed from here,” Malitha told her flatly. “You shouldn't even be on this farm, let alone in this house!”
“I don't see how that's for you to say, old lady,” Trudy retorted. “As best I can recall, you don't own this place. Or did I miss where you were part owner?”
“You're an abomination!”
“What the hell is going on in here?” a new voice entered the discussion. Trudy turned to see Kandi Ledford standing in the doorway, hand still on the door knob.
“This old woman has lost her mind!” Trudy exclaimed. “I was trying to change this baby's diaper and she comes barreling out of nowhere, trying to grab her and threatening me!”
“She has no place here!” Malitha shouted. Up until that point, Kandi had been prepared to give Malitha George the benefit of the doubt based on her own experiences with Trudy Leighton. Not fair, perhaps, but Kandi was nothing if not honest and her own relationship with Trudy was a series of ups and downs.
Seeing Malitha George almost frothing made her think twice.
“Mrs. George, you need to calm down, and tell me what's wrong,” Kandi said forcefully, raising a hand before the older woman and stepping between her and Trudy.
“Out of
my way!” Malitha tried to muscle her way past. That might have worked against Trudy Leighton. Against the young former Army officer, it failed spectacularly. Kandi was always being mistaken as soft due to her curves. The key word being 'mistaken'. She might not look all that solid, but no matter what your job in the Army might be, you still had to pass PT.
A single hand shove, only lightly done, was enough to send Malitha George stumbling back several steps as Kandi settled into a defensive stance.
“You need to stand down, Mrs. George,” she ordered sternly. “Enough. This place is a home for children, not the Octagon. Whatever has you so riled up needs to be put on hold until you aren't around these children anymore.”
“What's going on in here?” yet another new voice asked.
***
Callie Weston was tired and rather dirty after a day of hard work around the farm. Still, she had enjoyed the day and was beyond happy to be given the chance to make up for her part in the failed attack on the farm, and more importantly earn a chance for herself and her son to stay.
She had intended to get some clean clothing and go take a good shower before spending some time with her little boy ahead of working to fix supper, or at least help fix supper. She wasn't cooking tonight but all of them had to work to help the smaller children feed themselves.
What she walked into however was a scene out of a soap opera. The woman that Miss Malitha disliked so much was standing behind one of the female soldiers that had arrived recently while Miss Malitha tried to grab the child that Leighton was holding. She arrived just in time to hear the soldier girl, Ledford she thought was her name, tell Miss Malitha to calm down until she wasn't in the orphanage around the children.
“What's going on in here?” she demanded. While she and the others might be on thin ice, this was still technically her home.
“Good question,” Ledford answer her without looking her way. “I got here to see Mrs. George chasing Miss Leighton around, calling her an abomination. When I tried to get her to stop, she tried to shove me aside, and here we are.”
“You have no right to interfere!” Malitha shouted.
“Well, I'm pretty sure you have no right to raise a hand against someone else around here,” Kandi shrugged. “Guess we're even on that. Now how did we get to this point?” she said over her shoulder to Leighton.
“I was changing little Tammy's diaper and suddenly she's in my face, demanding to know what I was doing,” Trudy replied. “Out of nowhere I mean. Tried to jerk the baby out of my arms and then began shouting at me when I tried to stay away from her. I guess that's about where you came in,” she told Kandi.
“Sounds about right,” Kandi nodded. “What was your problem with her changing a diaper?” she asked Malitha. “Ain't that part of the job description up here?” Her eyes caught movement behind the older woman. Looking, she saw the teenage girl that worked here, something Webb she remembered, standing on the stairs. Kandi made a brief motion with her head for the girl to return upstairs and the teen promptly fled to the top floor with none of the others ever knowing she was there.
“That . . . that . . . abomination, has no right to touch that child!” Malitha said savagely. She was starting to have a wild look about her that Kandi didn't like.
“We need to stop that name calling business right here,” Kandi demanded evenly. “That ain't getting us nowhere at all. “I know Trudy can be a bit abrasive at times and a real handful to deal with-.”
“Hey!” came a protest from behind her.
“-but I think abomination is a bit strong,” Kandi ignored Trudy's squawk of indignation, keeping her attention on Malitha George. “Now how about you try again, without all that hate and whatnot, to tell me what it is about changing a diaper that's got you so wound up?”
“No one like her should ever touch a child!” Malitha was quieter but no less savage this time. “She shouldn't even be anywhere near this place, let alone working around these children. Callie agrees with that and so do the other mothers here!”
“What?” Callie Weston looked surprised to have her name brought into it. “What did I do, now?”
“You know we've talked about this, child,” Malitha's voice was suddenly syrupy sweet as she spoke to the young woman she had often worked with before the Storm. “How this . . . thing, has no right to be here!” she jabbed a finger at Leighton.
“That's about enough of that kind of thing,” Kandi warned. “I need you to go and get Clayton Sanders, please,” she turned to Callie. “And you step outside,” she ordered Trudy. “Take the baby with you. You,” she turned back to Callie, “find the nearest person on watch and have them come here right away. Go on now!”
“Stay right where you are, Callie Weston!” Malitha George demanded. “We can't let that abomination leave here with that child!”
“I won't tell you again about that name calling,” Kandi's eyes narrowed. “And if you don't want to be in trouble yourself, I wouldn't stand there waiting before I went and did what I was told,” she spoke next to Callie.
Without a word Callie turned and fled, ignoring Malitha's shouts behind her.
“Get out,” Kandi said over her shoulder to Trudy. “Head straight down the hill to the clinic with that baby and wait there. Once you get there, don't leave. And don't go anywhere else. Make sure you don't, either,” she added. “It's important.”
“Okay,” Trudy almost stammered. “Wha-, what about you?”
“I imagine I better stay right here for the time being.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Clay knew it had been too good to be true. Two good days in a row? Work getting done, support from almost his entire family, a good report on Leon, the work crew from Jordan returning with their work completely done and bringing good reports as well. He should have felt it coming, but so much good news so fast had made him forgetful.
“Bossman, from Ray, come back!”
Corey Raynard's voice seemed urgent to say the least.
“Go for Bossman,” he replied immediately.
“Boss, you need to get up to the Orphanage right away,” Corey told him. “Miss Kandi is up there right now, and I'm on my way to the clinic with Miss Leighton and one of the children, but she says there's a problem and that Miss Ledford sent her to get help and to take the baby to the clinic. Apparently Mrs George is . . . she and Miss Kandi are squared off I think, from the sound of it.”
“Fucking perfect,” Clay swore to himself. “Copy that,” he replied to Corey. “Carry on with your mission. I'm on the way. Bossman to Groundwatch,” he called.
“Go for Ground, this is Vee,” he could tell Tully was moving quick.
“Vee, are you on the way up there?” he asked, already moving to the ATV normally used by the response unit.
“Affirmative,” Vicki Tully replied. “Be there in about one minute.”
“Roger that. I'm on my way as well,” he informed her as Jose Juarez ran up and jumped into the shotgun seat. “Be there right behind you.”
Two clicks of the mike were his only reply.
“What the hell, now?” Jose groused as Clay engaged the transmission and tore out for the hill.
“I got a feeling it's more of the same,” Clay told him. “I had hoped this was settled, but apparently that would be too much of a good thing.”
***
“Callie,” Clay said as he pulled up. Callie Weston was outside with her own son, looking a little pale.
“Mister Sanders,” she nodded.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I have no idea what I am at the moment,” she shook her head.
“I understand,” he nodded. “In a minute I'm going to send someone else out here to take the ATV and go fetch your housemates. I'd like for you and your little gentleman here,” he winked at her son, “to go with them. I think we’ll need all of you back here for this. Let them know no one is hurt so there's no reason to panic, okay?” He hoped no one was hurt even as he said it.
“Okay
,” she nodded. “I don't know what the hell is going on in there,” she admitted.
“Well, why don't I go and find out,” he patted her shoulder. “Just wait here a minute.” He took a deep breath and stepped inside, Jose right on his heels.
“-no right to come in here interfering!” Malitha George was saying as they got inside. “And now here you come!” she added, seeing Clay.
“Here I come,” Clay nodded. “Vee, you golden?”
“Shiny,” Vicki nodded. “Nothing happened since I got here but harsh words and hard looks,” she added.
“Take the ATV and Miss Weston, please, and go pick up the other moms who live here,” he instructed her. “Let them know that nothing has happened to their children, we just need them back here. Nothing has happened to them, right?” he asked Kandi.
“Not that I've been made aware of,” she replied with a shake of her head, ponytail swishing behind her.
“Get on that,” he ordered Vicki, who sketched a salute and headed outside.
“Miss Malitha, you want to tell me what in tarnation is going on up here?” Clay asked next.
“You sent an abomination into our midst, that's what's happening up here!” Malitha snapped at him. “Letting that creature handle these children! I caught her red-handed with that child's diaper off!”
“She was changing a diaper,” Kandi told him. “Dirty one is still on the table,” she pointed to where a blanket was spread on the rough table, child care supplies still spread across the table.
“Is there another way to change a dirty diaper aside from removing it?” Clay asked Malitha. “I admit I don't have a wealth of experience in child care.”
“You think this is a joke?” Malitha demanded. “That abomination was abusing that child!”
“That's a serious accusation, Mrs. George,” Clay's face hardened. “I hope you aren't just making that up out of anger. And before you say anything else, know that one of my men has already taken Leighton and the baby in question to the clinic. Now, knowing that, do you want to maybe change your story any? Back away from that accusation and maybe tell us what's really in your craw?” As if I don't already know, he didn't add.
