by N. C. Reed
“What about your brother and sister, Marcy?” Clay asked gently. He was struggling and trying to hide it. He didn't know what to do.
“I’ll miss them,” she nodded, wiping a tear from the corner of one eye. “But if I married and moved away, I'd miss them anyway. If I had gone to college, I'd have missed them. It ain't that far. Long as nothing don't happen to us, I’ll see them again.”
“Marcy, I'm not trying to discourage you, but this is a big step, and I'm afraid it's one you won't be able to come back from,” Clay explained. “I need to know you've put enough thought into this. That you understand what you're doing. What you're giving up.”
“What I'm not giving up is all the hard work I've put in here,” she told him flatly. “You know as well as I do this is all bullshit.” Her face darkened at her use of profanity but she held her ground. “I've worked hard since I got here. I'm still working hard. And I'm not going to be told I have to surrender all that, be smacked in the face even, just because two lesbians move into the neighborhood. Hell, there were lesbians in school with us! No one raised all this hell back then.”
Clay couldn't find any holes in that logic. His body screaming reluctance, he turned to Nate.
“Take Vicki with you and maybe roust Sienna,” he ordered. “Go with her. She does her own talking, you're just there for moral support.” He turned back to face Marcy as Nate went to get his assistant moral supporters.
“Make sure you know what you're doing,” he told her. “You are welcome here so long as you want to be here, and don't cause problems. You never have, and until you do I'm going to assume you’ll keep on that way.”
“You’ll have to tell your parents and your siblings,” he specified. “Nate and the others are there to support you, that's all. Just in case. You can stay where you are, but know you’ll probably have roommates soon. We need the room if it's available.”
“Can I keep my room?” Marcy asked, a hint of teenage girl peeking out after all.
“I would imagine you can,” Clay nodded solemnly. “Meanwhile, you better go with them,” he pointed to where Nate had called Vicki and they were waiting, “and get this done. Don't be surprised when your folks have a meltdown.”
“Don't worry. I won't.”
***
Nate Caudell was on edge as he followed Marcy George back up the hill. He wasn't looking forward to her parent's reaction. Still, he had to admire the girl for sticking up for herself and what she wanted. Most teens would have followed their parent's lead, regardless of their own feelings. Clearly, Marcy George was not most teens.
Franklin and Malitha George were standing outside the house when Marcy arrived, arguing with everyone in general and Titus Terry in particular.
“She said not to,” Titus was shaking his head.
“And I said you get to work loading that room!” Franklin all but bellowed in the teen's face.
“No sir,” Titus stayed firm. “She said not to until she got back. So we wait.”
“Thank you, Titus,” Marcy said, interrupting anything else her father would have said. Titus simply nodded to her and stepped back a bit. While he didn't know exactly what was going on, he did know it wasn't any of his business, and he didn't need to be so close.
“Marcy Loretta George, you get in there and start bringing your things out here to this truck,” Franklin ordered. Malitha was unusually silent, her eyes damp.
“No sir,” Marcy shook her head slowly. “I'm not going with you,” she decided to cut straight to the chase.
“Wha-,” Franklin almost goggled at her. “You most certainly are going with us!”
“No, I'm not,” Marcy stood a little straighter as she spoke. “You hit me,” she looked then to her mother. “Not because I was disobedient, or because I'd done something or said something wrong, but because I expressed an opinion that was different from yours.” She turned back to her father.
“I have no idea what's going through your minds, and I no longer care,” she told him. “I do know that no one is going to abuse me, and that includes the two of you. I've been a good daughter to you and I deserved better than to have you hit me just because you didn't like that I disagreed with you.”
“I already asked if I could stay, and the answer was yes. So no, I won't be loading my things into that truck and I won't be going with you. Period.” Next she turned to her brother and sister, who were crying silently off to the side.
“Bernetta, Malcolm, I'm sorry that I won't be with you,” she wiped away a tear that fell down her cheek. “Know that I’ll always be here for you. If you ever need me, you’ll know where to find me, okay? Don't you ever forget that, no matter what. You remember that I love you,” she hugged them tightly to her, “and that even if we're not together, I’ll still be there when you need me. I'm not deserting you. It's just time for me to go my own way, that's all. One day you’ll have to do the same thing. If you need me to help you when that day comes, you know where I’ll be.”
She was crying openly now and her sister was sobbing. Her brother was more stoic, but it was apparent he was only barely keeping it together.
“Remember I love you, always,” Marcy said once more before stepping back. She turned back to her parents.
“I wish you well, regardless of how you feel about me,” she said softly. “I hope you can let go of this hate that's consuming you.” With that she turned away, moving back the way she had come. Back to where Nate and the others stood waiting. She ignored her father's yelling and her mother's crying. She even ignored her brother and sister bawling, though it was a hard thing for her to do.
She had made her choice.
***
The group loaded silently aboard the two six-wheel Cougars. There were no goodbyes, no well wishes, no platitudes. The good will that had permeated the group, the entire farm, since the cookout was nowhere in evidence today.
The Webb family, sans the widowed sisters-in-law, were there to see John off despite how they had ended their earlier discussion. To them, family was family, even when family was stupid and stubborn and couldn't be taught anything. He alternated between being sorrowful, surly and angry, sometimes all within the space of a minute.
Lainie watched from the pad as Marla climbed aboard the second Cougar, refusing to walk the distance to say goodbye. Marla had made her bed and now she would have to sleep there. Trying to use Lainie against Clay had been the last straw for the granddaughter, no matter how much she loved Marla or how grateful she was for her help long years ago.
Bonham and Moore were already aboard with their children, still crying over their situation but unable to change it. They had known better. Known the truth but had allowed the Georges to sway them into their protest. Their attempt to coerce Clay Sanders into doing what they wanted. They had been in a good place with the promise of doing better, and they had thrown it away. For themselves and their children.
Jose Juarez had taken command of the convoy. Their first destination was the house Greg Holloway had lived in. Assuming it was still standing and still empty, it was a good place to off load. The group could stay together or not, that was up to them. If his storage container was still there then there was plenty of storage space, and the house had three bedrooms and a large living room. There were other houses too, and once in Jordan it was up to them where they chose to live.
Satisfied that everyone was loaded, Juarez made a spinning motion with his hand and the vehicles began moving.
Clay watched them go with a cold gaze. Others might feel sympathy for those leaving, or feel sorry that they were going. He did not. What he did feel was aggravation.
There was so much else to be upset over and concerned about that it truly, even now, boggled his mind how this had grown so out of control. All this fuss and bother over something so senseless. A strong group fractured by an inability to grasp reality. He shook his head as he finally looked away.
He had too many other things to worry about to bother spending time on a problem
that was now on the way somewhere else.
***
The next few days would be strained, though not in any way so bad as the few days prior had been. People tread carefully around each other, avoiding the subject of those who had left and the reason for it.
Trudy Leighton and Gwen Paige had isolated themselves for a short time, cautious about trying to interact with the others since opposition to their presence had been at the heart of the disagreement. Both were more than a little hesitant in dealing with the others, expecting to be blamed for all that had happened. Trudy Leighton had gone so far as to approach Marcy George the day after her parent's departure.
Trudy had offered a hesitant apology to Marcy over her parent's departure, only to hear the teen bluntly refute her apology as unnecessary. Marcy informed her in no uncertain terms that so far as she, Marcy, could see, neither Trudy nor Gwen had done anything wrong. That meant that whatever else might be so, they weren't at fault and had nothing to apologize for. Marcy then went on to apologize on behalf of her parents for the hateful and hurtful comments they had thrown at Trudy, and by extension Gwen.
A subdued Angela Sanders went about her work in the kitchen and the seed garden, making no attempts to interfere further in the running of the farms. Her soul searching had not yet led her to the conclusion that Clayton had done the right thing, but it had begun to show her that she had been at least partially in the wrong, and therefore partly to blame. In time perhaps she could mend that fence with her son, but for now it was apparent that she needed to take care of her own issues.
With so many departing, housing arrangements were changed and job assignments were shifted to reflect the new dynamic.
Lila Webb moved into the orphanage, where she would work full time until further notice. She was good with the children and enjoyed the work, and with two of the women who had lived there departing there was a need for extra help to care for so many children. Callie Weston and Tammy Denmark would no longer be working at other jobs, either. Clay had decided that their loyalty had proven they could be trusted, and their help was needed to care for the children.
Trudy would continue to work there as well, no one objecting to her presence. She was good with the children and all of the toddlers seemed to love her just as much as they did Lila. Trudy of course didn't move into the orphanage, but she did agree to work at least one night a week to allow the others to sleep through the night.
After some discussion, Sienna Newell and Kandi Ledford moved in with Marcy George. It gave both women more room and some much appreciated privacy. Terri Hartwell talked to Trudy and Gwen and decided to take the empty room in their house, moving out of the Building Two dorm. She looked forward to having a little more room and to being on the Hill as well.
Mattie Simmons was assigned to the seed garden project in place of Callie Weston, and would also help out in other areas as needed. Mattie was very happy with the assignment as it would allow her to be outdoors most of the time, which she preferred. She had settled in well with Dee Talbot's family and would remain there for the time being. As Dee Talbot's son grew older that decision might need to be revisited, but that was well down the road.
After a week, the dust began to settle and a new dynamic started to take shape. It came as a surprise to many how little impact the losses had made on the work they were able to get done. The biggest impact had been at the Orphanage, with two residents plus Malitha George gone. Lila moving in and Trudy remaining on 'staff' had covered that fairly well, though they would no doubt need help from time to time.
Marla Jones had not really made any effort beyond bitching and griping so while she herself might be missed, her contribution to the survival effort would not.
Franklin George would be missed, especially when they had need of a builder, but they would get by. It was a handicap, but it was not insurmountable.
No one outside his family missed John Webb.
***
“Things seem to be moving along pretty good at the moment,” Jose commented as he and Clay walked the ranch over. They tried to make the rounds at least once a week, looking for problem areas or weak spots in their defenses.
“Let’s not jinx it, huh?” Clay suggested. “Instead let’s just pretend that things are running about normal. Maybe we can fool Karma into thinking nothing good is happening.”
“Man, your superstitious streak is awful,” Jose shook his head sadly. “Nate says the lead class is pretty much done, by the way,” he added after a moment. “He wants to keep running them through drills and PT for another two weeks, but that's just to make sure the edges are rounded, he says. If they had to, they could manage right now.”
“I like the idea of the extra training, assuming we get the time and opportunity,” Clay mused. “Tell him to go with it unless we get back to him differently. With that done, we can ease back for a week or two and then start the next class. By fall we should have everyone up to speed, at least for the most part.”
“Meanwhile, Greg Holloway and Sienna Newell went into Jordan this morning along with Gordy, Zach, Stacy and Xavier.” Jose was ticking things off a list in his hands.
“Xavier?” Clay's surprise showed at hearing that. “Why would he want to go?”
“Said he wanted to see how it went and keep getting a lay of the land,” Jose shrugged. “'Studying the natives in their natural habitat', I think he said. I didn't see a reason not to let him go.”
“No, I suppose not,” Clay admitted somewhat reluctantly. “I hope he's not too abrasive. Wonder how things are going in Jordan, what with the Georges and the rest there now,” he mused aloud.
“Well, we made some pretty good progress with the folks in town, so hopefully it's okay,” Jose mentioned. “We probably need to think about doing the next food drop soon, though,” he added.
“Plan on it for three days from tomorrow, probably,” Clay ordered. “We’ll have to separate out a couple head and get them butchered and smoked. Have Kandi put the rest together and then we’ll load the beef when it's done.”
“Will do.”
“I wonder how Greg is doing?”
***
“No.”
Greg's refusal was a flat one, catching the man before him by surprise.
“What do you mean no?” he demanded, leaning forward in what he imagined to be an intimidating manner.
“I know who you are, Billy Johnson,” Greg raised an eyebrow. “I remember hauling your ass in on many a weekend for drunken brawling, driving under the influence and disturbing the peace. I'd imagine the only reason they aren't having trouble with you now is because you can't get much alcohol. Why are you here, anyway? Don't you live almost to Lewiston?”
“This is where I was when the lights went out,” Johnson replied, stung by the former deputy's recital of his past sins. “What d'you want me to do? Walk?”
“Perish the thought,” Greg sighed. “The answer is still no. Next one?” Johnson reluctantly gave way, muttering under his breath as he moved back into the street.
Greg and Sienna had been working most of the morning in an empty store that had been part of a small strip mall along the main drag through Jordan. The contents of the small boutique had long since been emptied, leaving nothing but a counter and a damaged trailer. A pair of folding chairs from the Cougar had been all they added as they began reviewing prospects for the position of deputy. So far they had three 'winners' as Greg referred to them. He had hoped for eight, but was willing to settle for six in a pinch.
Mayor Pickett had told them he had five people he had approached about serving, and the next one up was one of them. A tall, broad shouldered woman with shoulder length blonde hair strode into the room. Even after a harsh winter her athleticism was still there and showing in her prowling gait and erect carriage.
Greg and Sienna both liked her immediately.
“Talia Gray?” Greg asked, looking at his list.
“That's me,” the woman nodded.
“Didn't you d
o cross country for Calhoun High a couple years back?” Greg asked, a memory tickling the back of his mind.
“Little longer than that, Deputy,” Gray smiled. “This makes six years since I graduated, in fact.”
“You held a record for best time in the six kay, right?” Greg asked.
“I guess I still do,” Gray shrugged. “I don't think we’ll be seeing many cross country meets for the foreseeable future.”
“No, I guess not,” Greg sighed. “Tell us a bit about yourself, Miss Gray. What have you been doing since you left high school?”
“I attended community college and got an associates in manufacturing technologies,” Gray surprised them. “Until the lights went out I was programming machinery for Power Systems. They made parts for Toyota.”
“I recall,” Greg was nodding. “What made you interested in this position?”
“I'm not,” Gray surprised them. “Old Pickett hit me with the civic duty speech that Judge Corning used to give people who were trying to duck jury duty. I'm sure you've heard it,” she smirked.
“I have,” Greg almost snorted a laugh. “And yeah, Pickett comes from the same cloth as His Honor. Well, that explains why you're here. But if you're not interested, why come talk to us?”
“Pickett made some sense,” Gray admitted. “I still don't know that I care for it, but . . . he said we, as in the community we have here, needed it. And I do agree with that, I just didn't think I was the right kind of person. That's all.”
“Why not?” Sienna spoke for the first time. “Why not you?”
“What do I know about the law?” Gray shrugged. “I program automated machinery to make other machinery. I work fifty to sixty hours a week, or did, and spend what little free time I have playing video and board games. Little slow on video games anymore, but board games made a roaring comeback during the winter,” she chuckled.
