Bernie interlaced his fingers. “Sometimes, it still is. And for a while there, especially right after we lost her, it felt like the end of the world for Ruthie and me.” He paused. “She used to love being outside, love to play in the woods and climb trees. If she wasn’t picking apples and grapes, Sasha was off riding horses or cliff jumping off that riverbank behind the barn. I don’t recall her ever being afraid of anything, and I mean anything. If Ruthie and her were out in the garden planting seeds and a black racer slithered up, Ruthie would scream and run like the dickens. But not Sasha.
“She’d grab a-holt of it by the tail and fling it, without even thinking. She used to clear the house of wolf spiders for us, them nasty brown, biting buggers. She’d grab them by their legs and stare in their beady little eyes right before tossing them outside. Yep, that girl was fearless. But pleasing, though. Never had any intention of doing wrong or getting in trouble, and when she did and knew a spanking was coming, she’d always sit with us and promise she’d never do wrong again, even though she would eventually. But she sure did mean well.” Bernie took a pause to wipe away the errant tears brought about by recollections of the past. “We sure do miss her and love her. And we always will.”
Lauren smiled at him. “You’ll see her again someday.”
Bernie nodded and cracked a smile. “Young lady, you are right about that. As much as I love living, that is one thought that brings me joy. Knowing the day will soon come when I permanently depart the earth. Because that’ll be the day I can see my Sasha again.” He paused and looked to her sternly. “But in the meantime, I do value my life and the lives of those around me. And if anyone, I don’t care who it is, ever tries to harm somebody I care about, well, they’ll feel my wrath.”
Lauren beamed. “I believe you. And I’ll lend some of my own.”
“You would, would you?”
She nodded.
“Young lady, you sure do have a fire burning inside you. I hope you’re able to control it when the day comes.”
“When what day comes?”
Bernie’s smile went flat. “The day you’re put to the test.”
The morning routine was adhered to by all the farm’s residents. Chores were tended to and breakfast was put together courtesy of Ruth and a small army of young people who had all graciously volunteered to chip in. Every one of Ruth and Bernie’s ‘refugees’, as they were sometimes dotingly termed, finished their meals and handwashed their dishes, then returned to their routines, which consisted of daily chores, farm tasks, reading, education, and a strict regimen of playtime.
They were children, after all, the majority of them, at any rate. And above all, the most important thing for them, in both Bernie’s and Ruth’s opinions, was the enjoyment of their childhood or, at least, what had become of it.
The pursuit of happiness within the boundaries of Little Germany Farms was a premise of particular import. The couple saw no point in applying time to anything lacking the promise of contentment on the other side. Bernie sometimes referred to it as ‘a second horizon’. For most, if not all of these children, their lives had been turned upside down, and the days of old, those belonging to their lives prior on this earth, had concluded. Therefore, a new horizon had been established for them, the dawning of a new day, one they could each use to start over and afresh. The couple believed that leading lost souls along this path of theirs had become their calling now. That they had been placed here exclusively to watch over others less fortunate, despite that it had taken them until their sunset years to learn of it. Some learn their true purpose in life later in life versus sooner.
The crowds of young people vacated the farmhouse after having finished breakfast, and not long after, Lauren and Bernie relocated into the dining room.
Ruth’s smiling face entered as well and brought them each a plate, then set one for herself along with a full carafe of black, steaming coffee. “That should be all it takes to get their attention, I expect,” she droned. “The smell of coffee is like ringing a dinner bell whenever Dave and his boys are around.”
Bernie gnawed on a slightly overcooked slice of bacon, then held it aloft with a frown. “What the dickens happened here, Ruthie? You havin’ problems with the stove temperature again?”
“It was an accident, you old coot. And don’t you start with me or you’ll be the one slaving over your own stove from here on out.”
Bernie stuffed the remainder of the slice in his mouth and crunched down on it. “See that, Lauren? See that right there? See how quickly old women resort to threats? Ain’t no sense in it.”
Lauren giggled. “Actually, for the record, it was me who ruined the bacon. I’m still learning how to cook with cast iron and a wood-fired stove.”
“Oh. Why didn’t you say so?” said Bernie. “All’s forgiven, then.”
Ruth poured her mug full from the carafe. “Forget him pointing out my behavior…take a look at how he acts, Lauren. See how he resorts to name-callin’ and curries favor? One of these days, I just know it, he’s gonna find himself a younger woman and leave me for her.”
Lauren didn’t respond, only watched as the couple sent each other scowls. Though it didn’t take long for them to convert to smiles.
Sanchez, Santa, and Woo Tang entered the home several minutes after. They waved and sent smiles when they passed by the dining room and returned moments after, each with a heaping plate of food. They took their seats, placed their hands together for a short, silent, somewhat irreverent prayer, then attacked their meals.
Bernie studied them in silence for a minute before asking, “Morning, gentlemen. You fellas…missing somebody?”
Sanchez pointed his fork in the direction of the front door. “LT’s still playing footsies with Lazarus.”
“Playing footsies?” Bernie prompted.
“Claro. They’ve been together all morning, discussing something no one knows jack shi—sorry, not a darn thing about. A half hour before chow time we tried to pull him away, but he shot us the bird. Obviously, we thought what he did was disrespectful and went our separate ways.”
“Good move, young man,” Ruth said. “I’m proud of you.”
“Gracias, Miss Ruth. Anyway, last time we saw them, they were headed back to that commo shack to make a call.”
“Commo shack?” Bernie responded.
“Sorry…communications facility,” Sanchez revised, drawing out the words.
“You mean that little shanty down the road with all the wires clinging to it? Looking like some gigantic spiderweb?”
“That’s the one,” Santa said, nodding.
“Heh. Thought so. That Godforsaken eyesore has been disgracing the landscape for decades. Can’t believe it’s still standing, much less in operation.”
“Were they planning to join us for breakfast? Should we wait on them?” Ruth asked.
“Uncertain at this time, ma’am,” Sanchez responded, his tone as respectful as anyone had ever witnessed. “But it would not surprise me either way.”
“Well, suppose we’ll keep some food out for them, then.”
While the remaining men stayed at the table to eat and polish off what was left of Ruth’s coffee, Lauren helped Ruth gather up dirty dishes. It wasn’t long after when the front door opened again and Dave Graham entered with Lazarus following. Both men moved hastily into the dining room.
“Good morning,” Ruth greeted them from the kitchen. “Glad you could join us. We saved some vittles for you.”
“That’s very much appreciated, ma’am. But I won’t be partaking this morning.” Dave pointed to the carafe of coffee on the dining room table. “I need all the brainpower I can muster, so I’ll be fasting and adhering to a liquid diet today, assuming there’s any left.” A set of brownish eyes unwilling to look at him provided an answer.
“Don’t worry, I’ll put on another pot,” said Ruth. “My coffee has been known to cause spells of overconsumption.”
Santa poked Sanchez’s arm. “Ain’t that the tru
th.”
“That’s okay, ma’am. Don’t put yourself out on account of me,” Dave grunted. “I can do without.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, David Graham…it won’t take but a minute.”
“Very well.” Dave then rounded the table and took a seat beside Woo Tang.
Lazarus, as usual, found his place at the foot of the table, opposite Bernie, choosing this time to forgo misusing the family furniture.
Dave was barely able to pour enough coffee to coat his mug’s bottom. He turned to verify Ruth had moved out of earshot. “You know, this here cock bag fuckery should be dealt with severely, as in nothing short of a treasonous act,” he ranted, his eyes locked on Sanchez. “Pardon my French, sir. But impetuosity gets the better of me when there’s too much plasma extant in my caffeine system.”
Bernie only sniggered. “No apologies necessary. Happens to the best of us. Though, not so sure my better half feels the same.”
Dave put the mug to his lips and downed the speck of coffee like a shot of tequila. “Gentlemen, and…you too, Sanchez, one of our many prayers have been answered. I just got off the horn with Tim. He advises everything at Rocket Center has been going smoothly, if you can believe it. There hasn’t been one single, solitary issue. Major Pain and his yokels have been cooperative, receptive, and willing to work with us.” He chuckled. “Talk about a bolt from the blue.”
Santa thumbed his whiskers. “Well, that should certainly serve to take a load off your mind.”
“That it does,” Dave said, then sent a glance over the table to Lazarus. “Additionally, there stands to be some…augmentations to our plans in the days coming. I figured it best to present them here and now for examination and endorsement. It’s no secret the weather has put a damper on things for us. I’m proud to announce though, after some comprehensive discussions with our rather unconventional ally, who’s so courteously graced us with his presence, there now exists some new options on the table.”
“What brand of options, LT?” Santa posed.
“The transportation brand,” Dave grumbled. “The brand fluent in relocation, to grid coordinates of a particular necessity. And these options appear viable. We can implement them now and move forward, or sit here with our thumbs up our butts until spring arrives. I’m partial to the former of those choices.”
Lazarus scooted closer to the table just as Lauren reentered the room. “I know road conditions have been a major concern for you. Well, those days are over,” he began. “This mountain weather might be a hindrance to y’all, but it isn’t to us. We just get up and deal with it. We have four-wheel-drive, custom-lifted diesels that can drive over it, and equipment to push it out of the way so we can get on with life. Winter never shuts us down around here, and I’m willing to make available what I have to you, out of the kindness of my heart.”
Lauren slipped gracefully into her seat and eyeballed Lazarus conspiratorially. No one else said anything for a time.
Dave Graham held his tongue as Ruth entered to offer him fresh coffee. “Thank you much,” he said, chancing a sip. “Well, don’t everyone speak up at once. Doesn’t matter anyway. The decision’s been made. In lieu of this unexpected stroke of…charity, the offer has been accepted.”
“So you’re leaving?” Lauren studied Dave’s expression with sharp eyes. “I don’t understand.”
“What’s not to understand?” Lazarus queried. “I’m making it all happen. I’m going to get everyone where they need to be, young lady.”
“Are you?”
“Yepper. I get it, trust me. Progress has reached a standstill because of the weather and a certain lack of means. And while I can’t do much about the weather, I do know ways to affect those means.” Lazarus sat up in his seat. “Folks in the mountains don’t hibernate like the bears when the weather gets crappy. We just shovel it, go over it, or push our way through it, and keep on working. Now, after talking with Dave, I’m figuring on four trucks total with a snowplow on each one, two of them being V-plows, the kind that don’t quit. Two of them will pave the way for the convoy back to y’all’s HQ, and the other two will do the same for the secondary destination.”
“What secondary destination?” Lauren asked, her tone becoming agitated.
Dave took a slow sip of coffee. “Your destination, Janey. Home.”
“Home,” she echoed.
“That’s right. In addendum to helping us reassemble the unit, Lazarus and the Sons have courteously extended an…ancillary offer. One that involves hauling you back to your family.”
Ruth frowned. “What? Wait, you’re going home, Lauren? So soon? W-why haven’t you said anything?”
“Ruthie…” Bernie hushed her. “She didn’t know till now. Simmer down.”
Lauren sent Dave a jumbled look, then stared Lazarus down. “Why?”
The long-haired militiaman shrugged dispassionately. “Kinda felt obligated, like I had to. After that heartfelt convo on my radio yesterday and your emotional outburst that followed, I…just couldn’t help myself.”
“I didn’t have an emotional outburst.”
“Okay, I know what I saw. Call it what you want, but it looked pretty clear to me how bad you were yearning for home.” He sneered. “I’m doing this as a favor to you. You really should thank me.”
Lauren delayed, seeming dead set against. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome—oh, crap, I forgot,” Lazarus said. “Your thanks might’ve been a tad premature. I…haven’t had a chance to inform you about what’s set to happen once we get there.”
“Perhaps you should, then,” Lauren hissed.
“Darlin’, we’re goin’ to the chapel, that’s you and me. We’re fixin’ to have ourselves an arranged marriage.”
Lauren rose and thumped the table with her palms. “There isn’t a chance in hell!”
“Easy there, don’t be a spoilsport, it’s unbecoming,” Lazarus teased. “Besides, I was only joking with you.”
Lauren tensed up, glowered and leaned in further, her left hand shifting precariously close to her holstered Glock, a weapon that, from the point she’d taken possession of it, had literally never left her side. “I am not amused.”
Ruth gasped and turned away, shielding her eyes. Bernie seemed unsurprised, as if knowing all along that the teenager’s dormant wrath would eventually surface in his home. Sanchez and Santa looked giddy and expectant, their expressions like those of children waiting to open birthday gifts. Woo Tang wasn’t fazed in the least, and Lazarus sat frozen in place, conveying the impression of a person who’d wet himself.
“Janey.” Dave snapped his fingers, lassoing her attention. “It would gratify me greatly if you would kindly unruffle those feathers.” He eyeballed Lazarus intensely for several seconds, then locked eyes with her. “Apart from this mistimed, particularly tactless spell of clowning around, this offer is a particularly generous one. The Sons are under no compulsion whatsoever to make this available to any of us. Consequently, we might want to consider refraining from looking this particular gift horse in the mouth, if you catch my drift.”
Lauren backed away and hovered elegantly into her seat. As would a lady, she wiped the corners of her mouth with a cloth napkin, folded it and returned it to the table. She spoke delicately, giving the impression that her mood had gone full circle. “Dave, may I have a word with you, please? Alone?” She excused herself, stood and pointed a rigid finger toward the living room.
Dave sighed raucously while uprighting himself. He tracked her and the two squared off with one another, neither speaking until out of earshot and certain a conversation had resumed in the dining room.
“All right, state your business,” Dave muttered.
Lauren’s hands went in motion. “Forgive me, I’m lost here. Exactly what reaction were you looking to get from me in there just now?”
Dave put his shoulder against the wall. “I don’t know, gratitude, possibly? Maybe a smile, a thank-you…maybe an ‘I can’t believe this is happeni
ng, Dave’ or something along those lines? I wasn’t trying to put you on the spot, but there’s an offer on the table now to get you where you want to be. I could’ve sworn that’s what you wanted.”
“Of course it’s what I want. You know that,” Lauren said. “But you could’ve told me about it devoid of the…mixed company.”
“You’re probably right about that. Might’ve gotten ahead of myself. Guess I’m anxious to get this show on the road.”
“So am I, more than you know. But, Dave…I don’t feel comfortable with this.”
“This? Meaning what?”
Lauren hesitated, then whispered, “Lazarus.”
Dave nodded his head slightly. “Okay, I get that. He’s not everyone’s cup of tea.”
“Forget tea,” Lauren stated. “He’s shady and I don’t trust him. And I don’t find any comfort whatsoever in the thought of him or any of his underlings taking me home. I’d just as soon go by myself.”
“Received, but as sure as I’m standing here, going by yourself is not and unequivocally will not be an option,” Dave grumbled. “I recognize he isn’t your favorite person, but he’s given us no reason not to trust him and neither have the Sons. These folks have confidence in them and have worked alongside them for years without quandary. For those reasons, I deem this offer and the altruism behind it legit. You say you don’t trust him, and I’m sure you possess a valid reason for that, and I supposed there’s no point harping on you for feeling that way.”
Lauren folded her arms and rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the validation.”
Dave expelled a sigh. “Look, Janey. I’ll level with you. I’ve been dreading the point of going our separate ways since we stumbled upon you caged up in that shithole. These eyes never want to witness anything resembling that again. In view of that, ever since, your protection and welfare have fallen under my already overextended list of duties. And since I aspire to see you get what you’ve been longing for in the most carefree manner conceivable, I’m going to work with you.”
“Work with me?” Lauren’s features softened. “Dave, I—”
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