by Jake Aaron
“Oh, people give me things. I take some and pass the rest on. Seems to work out.” Marsh tipped his hat to the group and began to leave.
"One thing, Marsh. I noticed that you were clicking off those well-aimed rounds at an astounding clip. Never saw anything like it in my life ..."
"Jed, there's no accounting for what adrenaline can do for you!"
Jed chuckled in disbelief. "If you say so, Marsh. Can we offer you some venison steaks?” Jed said. “I figure with all that marshaling you’re doing, you don’t have time to hunt.”
“I’ll take a raincheck on that Jed.” Marsh lied, “One of my other groups just topped me off. Gotta get back to marshaling,” he winked. “Thank you very much. Oh ... by the way, Jed, I'll be dragging the corpses of those dead scum to some distant ravine with my horse. Predators will take it from there.”
After the marshal left, Jed remarked, “Marsh’s facial expression never changed the entire time he was here.”
Only minutes elapsed until Marsh was back at the door. “Hey, Jed, I found this bottle of pills in Meagan’s pocket. Thought you might have a use for them.”
“Darn right, Marsh, I think she was bringing those back for John. I’ll run them by Brock first, but I think they may be just what John needs to counter his infection.”
Marsh shook his head. “Meagan — her good works go on even after death! Quite a gal!”
*****
Later at his compound, Marsh embraced Jenny. “Hon, we’ve had one helluva day, I have to tell you. The death of a fine woman like Meagan makes me appreciate you that much more. By the way, that was some great shooting you did taking out that biker slime. I guess that makes me the smartest man on the planet; I hired you and I married you. Can’t beat that!”
“Right back at you, Marsh-man. Hey, I didn’t do so bad myself, marrying the smartest man in the world. You might want to take some credit for your shooting, as well.”
They both laughed. Jenny pointed at the 50-year-old scotch. Marsh shook his head no. “That scotch and your diamond ring are momentos of the beginning of this surreal experience. Their anonymous donor …”
“Back to sampling the scotch, Marsh. If not now, when?” Jenny asked, with fisted hands on her hips.
Marsh smiled. “You got me there, partner. Doubles all around! While I pour, let me ask you do you want to go in to meet the folks at the Denton Ranch? I really like Zeke and Jed there. I know you’d like Karen. You'd have loved Meagan, although she was pretty intense. Maybe in small doses.”
“For now, Marsh, let’s leave me literally in the background. I’m the ace up your sleeve. You never let anyone see all your cards. You always have a little edge. I appreciate that quality about you more and more every day. Why give up an advantage when you don’t have to?”
“I never was ever able to verbalize it that well, hon. You get it!”
Jen changed the subject, “And speaking of Meagan …”
Marsh: “Yeah, I thought we’d spare the Denton group the pain of what to do with the body, winter and all. For Pete’s sake, my family nearly killed each other over what to do with my Uncle John’s body in better times. Cremation or burial? Scatter the ashes or keep them on the mantle? Open or closed casket? Aunt Martha insisted on an open casket. My cousin Emma wanted a closed casket. She was horrified at her father’s unearthly, waxlike form at the memorial service. She never forgave her mother’s insistence on that open casket, especially since Aunt Martha didn’t even attend the service! And that was in the summer, when the ground wasn’t frozen! On and on … .
“We took lives out there today,” he continued. “They were scum. We should and do feel good about it, but we know both of us would get mandatory counseling back at the sheriff’s office. Protocol. So I thought that a funeral for Meagan would be therapeutic for both of us. It will remind us how rightful our actions were as we honor the wonderful person Meagan was. What do you think?”
Jenny kissed Marsh. “I think I’m lucky to be married to the smartest man in the world!”
*****
In a mourning fog, Zeke trudged up the staircase. Outside his bedroom, Sondra walked up to him and gave him what he thought was a soulful hug.
“Thanks, Sondra!”
“Zeke, if there’s anything I can do …”
“I appreciate it, Sondra. I know you miss her, too.”
Sondra sighed. She grabbed is right forearm with her left hand. “Zeke, I want to move in with you. We were good together. I miss you. I made a big mistake …”
Brock quietly arrived at the top of the stairs and interrupted. He spoke accusingly, “What’s going on here?”
Zeke: “Nothing, Brock. Sondra was assuring me I wasn’t the only one missing Meagan. For that, I am very grateful. Meagan meant the world to me.”
Brock clamped onto Sondra’s right wrist and dragged her away.
Then, as Zeke reached for his bedroom doorknob, Keala called out his name as she topped the stairs. Zeke was mildly perturbed at his second effort to be alone.
Keala stood very close to him and spoke in uncharacteristically low tones. “Zeke, could we step inside for a moment? I need your help.” Inside his bedroom, she spoke self-consciously, “I really apologize for the timing, but I’m at wit’s end here. I shouldn’t … . You know I was in the cold for many hours after the accident. What you don’t know is how cold I am all the time now. Part of it may be psychological, I’ll give you that, but I wear more clothes than anyone here. I can’t seem to feel warm. My nights alone in my bedroom are unbearable. I’ve tried sleeping by the fire downstairs, but with someone caring for John and tending the fire, I can’t get any good sleep. This is stupid and ill-timed, but could I try huddling with you tonight? I have to ask. I’m so sorry. Bad timing …”
Zeke’s irritation melted as Keala’s eyes welled up in tears. He also remembered he had responsibilities to her as her elected leader. “Keala, I’ve been caught up in other things. I apologize to you for not noticing what you’ve been going through. You have had more hardships than any of us. Of course, you can crash, er stay, here tonight.” He chided himself over saying crash to a plane accident victim.
Keala was so relieved, she completely broke down with more tears. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”
Zeke felt as if he were being crushed in her vise-like hug. To comfort her, he hugged the heavily jacketed former beauty queen back but not as tightly as she did him. Out of the blue, he started laughing uproariously. “I hope the walls are as soundproof as I think they are!”
“What? What is so funny? Are you laughing at me?”
“No, Keala, I’m laughing at what has just happened to me.” Just after I lost my true love, my ex-fiancee wants to sleep with me, he thought. Then Miss South Dakota has a similar request minutes later. The pity is that I can’t share the irony with anyone.
“Zeke, are you all right? You’re behaving strangely.” Keala kicked herself for her frankness. She wondered whether Zeke was having a hysterical reaction to Meagan’s death.
Zeke’s mind raced as he chastised himself, no time to be scoping out a woman! I never noticed Keala's classic beauty. Her platinum hair, emerald-green eyes, and ballerina-like figure — wow! Cupid, you bastard, your timing sucks!
“Don’t worry about it, Keala.” He stopped laughing and hugging. “Some day I’ll be able to share the reasons for my seemingly inappropriate laughter. Trust me, it was not at your expense. It’s more of a cosmic joke — on me.”
“Okay, Zeke, I think. I’ll explain to everyone at breakfast why I spent the night in your room.”
“That’s probably a good idea, Keala. I’m sure everyone is already talking.”
*****
In the windy, freezing mountain pass, Cody and Joan enjoyed the warmth of bathing in natural thermal springs. Mist hung over the bubbling waters.
“Cody, there’s something wonderful about enjoying winter au naturel! I haven’t felt this good for months. And we have protein in our tummies.�
�� She shied away from saying horse meat for fear of gagging. “We’re clean. We’re warm. We’re safe.”
“Better than a spa, Joan. It is fantastic! If the weather holds with no new snow, we’ll make good time to the valley. I haven't seen any sign of life: no aircraft, no automobiles, no people. I did get a letter from my alumni association wanting money …”
“That’s funny! Yep, they can reach out and find you anywhere. I bet they have overnight delivery to heaven and hell.”
“And you’re funny. So what else could we hope for, Joan?”
“I’d like a chilled bottle of white wine. That would take my mind off the abandoned cars on the road. They’re depressing — a stark reminder of how life used to be.”
“I know it. The good news is that you won’t be dwelling on that long. You’ll sleep like a baby tonight. That’s good; you need to get caught up on sleep after this morning’s catastrophe. I’ll take the first shift tonight. We’re getting nearer people and danger. I’ll try to get you at least six hour’s sleep before I wake you.”
The Benefactor
January 8
Marsh and Jenny sipped hot coffee in their luxurious bunker. The absence of outside windows was offset with 15 large flatscreen monitors. Every room had at least one faux window. The repertoire of selectable displays with appropriate sounds was dazzling: seven wonders of the world, other nature scenes, classic and modern art, random colors, as well as real-time views outside the compound. Presently, Jenny had selected a panorama of waves massaging tropical white-sand beaches. Adding further to the free and airy ambience, Hawaiian slack-key guitar music resonated on the sound system.
“You know, Jen, I realize we don’t have the real view of the mountains we used to have, but we do have a realtime periscopic view. There are compensations!”
“Of course, we see it through the cameras’ eyes, though, Mr. Half-Full.”
“And I am full, not half-full! I don’t think I’ll ever tire of steak and eggs for breakfast.” he countered.
“Even if the filet mignon and eggs come from frozen?” She laughed.
“Even!” Marsh laughed back. “I’m used to frozen. I like frozen! The frozen milk gives me nostalgia. My dad said it was a treat to get imported frozen milk on Guam when he was there as an Air Force dependent. It beat the recombined local variety. I think fresh has been overrated.
“You know, we’re living large, even measured against the pre-New Year's yardstick. You’ve got the Viking refrigerator and stove you always wanted …”
Jenny chimed in, “Not to mention instant hot water, the adjustable king-size bed, the quartz countertops in the kitchen and baths. Oh, yes, the two jacuzzis …”
Marsh added to the gratitude list, “And, we have have electricity, running water, and toilets that flush — not to mention a world-class sound system and Blu-ray library. Yeah, it bothers me that others don’t. But, if you think about it, that’s the way the world has been since the begining of time, as we know it.”
“I love you, Marsh, but where did my Don Quixote go? Co-opted with luxury?”
“Jen, I guess I just had to adjust to some hard realities. You know that old question: What if, at the end of your life, you found out you had done everything wrong?
“Well,” he continued, “I’m lucky. I found out before the end of my life. A significant emotional event.” He knew Jen understood that event was his being fired. “I’m not big on revealing deep secrets that no man should ever share, but here goes. As a kid, I held onto the belief in Santa Claus for years, long after my peers began pooh-poohing the idea. I wanted to believe, in spite of the evidence around me. You're right, Jen, I am now a reformed idealist.”
“I get it, Marsh. I like your new flexibility. And I know you’re going along with this new world order for me. I thank you for that. Otherwise, I might now be the victim of some roving gang — like Meagan. A sad thought, sorry. Changing the subject, what are today’s orders?”
“Jen, I prefer to think of them as requests. After all, we’re free to turn them down anytime.”
“And Moses, what are today’s Ten Suggestions? You know that, if we turn down those requests you get on your smartphone, we’ll probably be out on our keisters fighting for scraps, without heat or electricity. Instead, we’re in a comfortable compound with heat and electricity, good food, and safety. Requests, my dear?”
“Jen, you didn’t mention 50-year-old scotch.” He almost smiled.
“I left that for you.” Jenny smiled. She was pleased to see Marsh show some emotion.
Mildly irritated at the new reality, he conceded her point. He laughed, “That, too!"
“In the context of history,” he went on, “very few ever get to be the top dog, which means that the likelihood any given soul winds up working according to someone else’s dictates, is pretty high. In fact, even the top dog winds up working for someone. Take the president of the United States — before the first of this year. The people of the United States used to elect the president. He then had authority over them, but the president was very much subject to ongoing public opinion. Full circle.
“So it really becomes a matter of how intolerable one’s situation is before he or she rebels. Myself, I’m reasonably content with what I have: the most beautiful woman in the world, good food, nice place to sleep …”
“Marsh, you could have stopped after the most beautiful woman in the world.”
“Would that clinch my defense?”
“Pretty darn close, wise husband.”
“I approve that edit, then. My point is that the someone telling us what to do, so far, is a helluva lot better than most of the people I’ve worked for in the past. He seems to have our best interest at heart. And, in the scheme of things, there’s always a pecking order. In that respect, it’s the same old …”
“Marsh, I won’t have that kind of talk in my home. You don’t revert to Army barracks talk often, but I will not relive hearing the offensive language I suffered through in the Corps. I wasn’t raised that way!”
“Sorry, Jen. You can tell I’m a little defensive about my being so compliant with this new authority, the invisible hand behind our spiffy compound and daily orders. I honestly don’t think my pushing back for the sake of pushing back would do anything except hurt our personal conditions. I always thought those folks out protesting to be protesting, were mindless ... er, dolts. That’s not me. Now to answer your original question …
“The text said to make sure the Denton folks get their thermal gloves. High priority, for some reason. Also, I’m to get John, at the Denton Ranch, ready to go to Idaho. I’m to pick someone else from the group to go with him for protection. What do you think, do I take the ’52 Ford pickup or the ’54 Chevy coupe?”
“Marsh, take the Ford. The Chevy is my baby!”
He laughed. “It is a beauty. For that matter, so is the Ford. No computers, no semiconductors, no electronic ignition — real cars! One real car and one real truck, anyway.
“Just a reminder, Jen, whoever our benefactor is, wants us to keep a close hold on our circumstances, how we operate, and what we know.”
“Heck, Marsh, whom would I tell? We don’t know a whole lot, anyway, except that you and I were somehow selected to live a whole lot better than the rest of mankind. We do know our benefactor knows a lot about us and has a lot of resources. I was impressed again when he sent us to pick up John in Lolo. How did he know John needed help?”
“That’s true, we don’t know much! Nevertheless, our other guidance is to take a bag of beans and a bag of rice to the Denton folks from our warehouse when we ride over today. Thinking back, the timing of the text saying to show up to help Meagan was also damn — sorry, I mean darn — impressive.”
Jenny: “How did he know?”
“Is that rhetorical?”
Jenny laughed, “That sounds like my old boss at the sheriff’s office. Deflecting when he didn’t have a good answer.”
Marsh snickered, “Sounds li
ke the smartest man in the world.”
*****
At the Denton Ranch, silence ruled the breakfast table. No jokes about eating venison again, no talk of how to improve day-to-day operations, no small talk. Meagan’s death still cast a long shadow.
Zeke left the grim gathering on the pretext of getting wood for the outside fire. Keala followed.
“Zeke, do you want to talk about it?”
“It’s more than Meagan’s death. No one will even look me in the eye …”
“If it weren’t Meagan’s death, you’d be explaining this to me. You’re too close to this situation to see it for what it is. Fact is: You were the leader. You called for the shot. It killed Meagan. Brock missed; you didn't fire the shot. Everyone knows you made the right call, but they didn’t do it. Blame has to fall on someone. It falls on you. Scapegoating. In my book, it’s a stronger certainty than gravity. Since the beginning of time, a group always had to project its bad feelings on someone to move on. Today, that’s you. It’s less horrific for the group than thinking of her death or their inability or unwillingness to make the right call. It’s seldom fair.
“You know me: I have to think people are basically good. I can’t stand the alternative. That’s my weakness. You have a firm grasp on reality: People are fickle!”
Keala paused, then went on, “And if you had agreed to the gang leader’s demands, we would have lost many, if not all, of us. That gang was clearly not going to play nice here. You did the right thing!”
“Thanks, Keala. You’re right. I am too close to the situation to be objective. It’s still hard to accept that when you do the right thing, you get blamed by the gaggle anyway.”
“But you understand group dynamics. You can’t change human nature. It just is. Listen, I know you, Zeke. How would you feel following the leadership of someone who isn’t as smart or capable as you?”
That one stopped Zeke in his tracks. Zeke took a deep breath. He wasn’t really born to cope with the disappointments leadership carried with it. However, he had been molded to deal with those with the wisdom his dad had passed on to him. “Son,” his dad had told him, “if I could summarize what West Point teaches in a word, it’s function. No matter what happens and no matter how you feel, your charge is to function. I want you to remember that. Whether it’s combat or life, function. Function!”
