by N. C. Reed
“You always got to say,” he said again. “This time, you had your say, just like always. Was it worth it?” There was no sting in the words. Just resignation. Sadness.
“No,” Rhonda admitted quietly.
“Well, that’s somethin’, anyway,” Billy sighed again, this time tiredly. “I’m gonna try and rest a while. I’ll be in here if you need me.”
“In here?” Rhonda asked, stunned. Was he shutting her out?
“Can’t leave’im,” Billy pointed at Rommel. “He can’t even get up enough to go tend his business. I got to clean him up ever time. I don’t, he’ll get a infection. Can’t have that. Might kill’im, even if the blood loss don’t. So I’m sleepin’ here.” He pointed to where he’d rolled out his sleeping bag.
“I’ll stay with you,” she offered.
“No,” he shook his head. “Ain’t no need o’ both of us sleepin’ on the floor. Just. . .just go to bed, when you get ready. Like I said, I’ll be here, you need me.”
With that he shut off the light, and got into his bed.
“You don’t care, pull ‘at door to when you go.”
Rhonda gently shut the door, and made her way upstairs. She had been hungry, but now had no appetite. She looked at the bundles in their room, the results of their efforts before the lion attack.
“All this for some Christmas presents,” she said to herself.
And then the tears came.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
Christmas dinner was a hit for most of the small community. For once, things just sort of fell into place. Pete had offered to stand watch, and Shelly had offered to help, so the two of them made up a basket from the assorted foods and left quietly, Jerry’s frown following them. He didn’t mean to frown, he told himself. He liked Pete. But that was his daughter, and he felt like he was duty bound to frown. So he did.
Billy made only a brief appearance, wishing everyone a merry Christmas. Then he too made up a basket and headed home. Rommel was better, but not enough. Rhonda watched him go, not bothering to tell her good-bye. Billy was distant, if not outright cold, and it hurt. Knowing that he was right to be that way made it hurt more.
“What’s wrong, dear?” Emma asked, having seen Rhonda’s expression.
“Nothing,” Rhonda told her quietly, smiling. “Just watching the doings.”
“You can lie to yourself, honey, but I know better,” Emma patted her hand. “You’re tore up pretty bad. Is he still angry?”
“He’s not. . .angry,” Rhonda struggled to find the right word. “If he was, I’d actually feel better. If he’d yell, or scream, or break something, then I’d think we were making progress. But he doesn’t. He just sits there. When he speaks, he’s proper and polite, his tone is gentle. I. . .I just don’t understand,” she admitted, tears beginning to flow.
“That’s just his way of coping, dear,” Emma told her softly. “Billy has always had to ride hard on his anger. One of his main failings is that when he allows himself to get mad, he’s ‘mad all over’, as my grandmother used to say. He’s mad, and he can’t control himself. He knows that. So he keeps himself bottled up. I’m afraid one day that will do him more harm than good.”
“What do you mean?” Rhonda asked.
“Oh, I don’t mean he’ll hurt anyone,” Emma assured her at once. “But bottling all that anger up inside isn’t healthy. It’s hard on the system. Something else my grandma used to say,” she grinned. “Hard on the system. He’s penning all that rage and frustration up inside, and it can hurt him, over a long period of time.”
“How?”
“Well, it can cause health problems. Stress causes all kinds of problems, honey. Heart disease, stroke, that kind of thing. Billy’s young, and healthy as a horse, so I doubt it’s hurting him right now. But as he gets older, it will, I’m afraid. He has to learn to find an outlet for all that.”
“Maybe I can help,” Rhonda mused. “Once he’s talking to me normal again, anyway.”
“Maybe you can.”
*****
Rhonda left the party and walked home. It was a long way, but she enjoyed it. She was armed, of course, and Dottie was with her. Mary and Danny had asked to stay the night, with the other children, as had Georgie and Amanda. Mary had pleaded for Toby to stay as well, but he was having none of it.
“I ain’t no kid,” he muttered, shaking his head. Mary pouted a bit, but Toby was immune to that, and went home with his family.
As Rhonda walked, she mulled the problem over in her head. She and Billy had enjoyed a wonderful relationship up to now, and she missed that. She knew that she was prone to insist on things, but she was usually right. At least that’s what she told herself.
But she admitted that sometimes her insistence made things hard on Billy. Like when she complained that he would leave, to go and take care of something. Deep down, she knew those things had to be done. But she was tired of Billy always being the one to do them.
The others had problems of their own, of course. George with helping Debby, Terry with two children, living in a house farther away from the others. Jerry and Emma were older, and not really able to get out and about like the others. The Kelvey’s were still in stages of recuperation from wounds suffered during the Franklin raid, with Ben taking up the ‘slack’ of Jon and Howie not being quite back to battery as yet.
Regina and the others had their hands full with the children. Ralph was busy with the bio diesel experiment, and with George staying close to home, Ralph was also doing the lion’s share of the work with the community herd.
That meant that it usually fell to Billy, Toby, and Pete to do the leg work. The others all participated in some things, but the three of them bore the greatest part of the burden. All were young, strong and capable. And had the least responsibility. True, she and Billy had Mary and Danny now, but both were teens that had managed to survive on their own for months, and were quite able, and more than willing, to work hard around the Todd farm. Now days Danny took care of the Todd herd, and the horses, performing most of the farm chores himself, including helping Jerry with the pigs.
Mary worked around the house, and helped Danny with chores, and took almost exclusive care of the chickens. When it came time to garden, and then to can, Danny and Mary would be there to help then, as well.
She had said herself that it was hard work, maintaining a farm, Rhonda remembered. And it was. It was also an everyday thing. Animals had to be fed, even when it was Christmas. When it was cold, hot, raining, snowing, the weather didn’t matter, chores had to be done.
And, she admitted to herself with a sigh, salvaging the things they needed to be safe in their own community had to be done as well. She didn’t have to like that Billy was gone so much, but she did have to accept that it was necessary. Period.
“Time to grow up a little, Rhonda,” she murmured to herself, as she approached the house. “You’ve had things pretty much your own way since you got here. Time you learned to give a little.”
She knew that it was. The problem was how to do it. And to convince Billy that she was going to.
*****
She was surprised when she got home. Billy was outside, with Rommel getting about, albeit gingerly, in the backyard.
“Hi, Rommel!” Rhonda greeted, as Dottie ran to where Rommel watched them coming. The two dogs pawed and sniffed slightly, though Dottie was obviously conscious that her buddy was still injured. Rhonda paused to ruff Rommel’s great head, which he accepted with a whine, licking his face. Rhonda laughed, realizing that Rommel was getting back to his old self.
“Hi, baby,” she said to Billy.
“Hi!” Billy smiled, and her heart warmed.
“I see the Beast is better,” Rhonda smiled back, sitting down beside him.
“Seems to be,” Billy nodded, kissing her lightly. “He was up’n about when I got back. I opened the door, and out he came.”
“He looks good,” Rhonda agreed, taking Billy’s hand in her’s. “I’m glad.”
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br /> “Me, too,” Billy agreed, and squeezed her hand lightly. “Had me worried for a bit.”
“I know, baby,” she said softly, hugging him. “I’m so sorry,” she added.
“Ah, it’s under the bridge now, I reckon,” Billy shook his head.
“No, it’s not,” Rhonda shook her head, and Billy looked at her.
“I ain’t been right by you, Billy,” Rhonda said, looking him right in the eye. “I complained about you havin’ to go and do, even when I knowed it had to be done. And, I do almost always object, or argue, or complain, wantin’ to know what’s what.”
“It scares me that I almost got Rommel killed,” she admitted. “And it terrifies me that you might have been hurt, or killed, because I didn’t do what you said. I’m sorry for that.”
“I can’t change what I did, or what happened cause of it. But I can change how I do things in the future. I know there’s things you have to do. You, Pete, and Toby are about the only one’s that can do some of this stuff. Everyone else has so much else on’em. So from now on, I’ll do my best to be supportive of times when you have to go and do and take care of things. I promise.”
“Well, I don’t care that you ask, or even that you argue,” Billy shrugged. “But what happened in town, that wasn’t. . .that was the time not to, is all. I. . .I needed it to be quiet. I couldn’t even believe what I was seein’ at first.”
“He could hear ya’ll in the store, and he started pawin’ and snortin’ like a old bull or such. He was gettin’ ready to ‘tack, I thought. That’s why I called to ya’ll to be right still. Thought it would make him pause.”
“And then I had to ask what’s wrong,” Rhonda sighed.
“He lit right out after me,” Billy nodded in agreement. “I was so scared I couldn’t even get a good shot on’im. And it didn’t help none that a .223 ain’t really the ideal big game bullet, neither,” he grinned. “I couldn’t hit nothin’ vital, and I reckon it wasn’t much more’n a bee sting to’im. He just kept a comin’.”
“I figured I was pretty much a goner when Rommel hit’im from the side,” Billy continued after a minute. “Hadn’t been for him, that lion woulda killed me most like. Hurt me bad for sure.” He looked at her then.
“I know I said mean things to you. I can’t rightly recall what, to be honest, but I’m sure I did. I didn’t mean to. I was scared, and I was mad. But still, I hadn’t ought o’ done it. And I’m sorry.”
“I had it coming,” Rhonda patted his arm.
“No, you didn’t,” Billy shook his head. “That kinda thinkin’ don’t work for me, Rhonda. You start thinkin’ like that, you can justify all sorts o’ things. I can’t be that way. I gotta hold the line, and do right. I don’t, I do wrong. Bad wrong, sometimes,” he almost whispered.
“Billy, you ain’t gotta ‘bad wrong’ bone in your body,” Rhonda smiled. “You just react to things, that’s all. And I put you in a bad place. I promise to do my best not to do it anymore. Ever.”
They sat together for a good while after that, enjoying each other’s company, and watching the two dogs go around the yard. Finally Rhonda turned, and whispered into his ear.
“Ya know, the kids stayed at the Clifton Home tonight. Ain’t nobody but us in this big ol’ house tonight. All alone.” Billy grinned.
“What will we do?” she asked, batting her eyes at him.
“Reckon we’ll just have to do the best we can,” he grinned even broader, and leaned in for a kiss.
*****
The Christmas party had gone so well that another was planned for New Year’s. The Clifton House was again the location, having so much more room that anywhere else. The weather was cold now, so any outdoor activity was accompanied by bundled clothes and then followed by runny nose’s and sore throat’s.
With Rommel recovering nicely, Billy was happy to go to the party. He and Rhonda had talked a good deal over the last few days, and he felt much better about their relationship. In fact, they both did.
They elected to drive, because of the cold, and arrived early so Rhonda and Mary could help with the party preparations. Billy and Danny looked around the farm for chores that needed doing, and took care of them, including filling the outdoor furnace, checking the fuel and oil on the small generator, and the fuel line from the propane tank to the furnace. A last chore was to fill the wood box on the back porch for the fireplace.
By the time they had finished, the others were either there already, or arriving. The two slipped inside, took off their coats and went to warm by the fireplace.
Soon the house began to fill up. There was no actual meal this time, just plate after plate of finger foods, deserts, and corner sandwiches. Everyone simply grabbed a paper plate and fixed something, then mingled.
After an hour of general talk, music started, and people began to dance, and laugh. There was no televised ball dropping in New York, so Regina and the others had rigged their own. There was alcohol, of course, and wine, and soon the house was getting louder and louder.
Billy and Rhonda had danced for a while, then sat out as Rhonda helped watch the smaller children, who were having their own party upstairs, giving the women from the day care a chance to enjoy the fun.
Billy sat by himself for a while, then allowed Mary to pull him onto the dance floor once, to dance with her. The music seemed louder to him, now. Someone had rigged a few lights, probably Howie, and they were flashing on and off at times with the music.
Billy struggled as the music, lights, talking and laughing all seemed to run together into one big noise. He’d never been to a party. Ever. The noise was intruding on his calmness. He began to fidget, and then to sweat.
Soon, without even realizing it, Billy was becoming irritable. He turned from side to side in his seat, frowning at every new sound, every flash of light. Then, someone found the light switch and began turning the overhead lights on and off. On and off. On and off.
Suddenly Billy jumped to his feet. It was too much. Too much noise, too much light, too much. . .people. He ran out the front door, and into the yard. A few noticed him go, but didn’t think anything of it, assuming he wanted fresh air. Which was the case, to a point.
Pete had been sitting with Shelly, watching the goings on when he saw Billy hit the door. He frowned to himself. Something was wrong. He excused himself, and followed his new friend outside.
He found Billy nearly to the tree line, wandering aimlessly, shaking his hands as if trying to air dry them. He was also talking to himself. Pete frowned again. That wasn’t good. He walked slowly toward Billy, stopping a few yards away.
“Calm, calm, calm,” he heard Billy say over and over.
“Billy, you okay?” he called out. Billy stopped short, his head swiveling toward the call.
“Are you okay, buddy?” Pete called again, as Billy just looked at him.
“Too much,” Billy said. “Too. . .too much.”
“Too much noise?” Pete asked, understanding at least in part.
“Too much everything,” Billy shook his head. “Too loud, too bright. Too much people.”
“Bothering you, is it?” Pete asked quietly.
“Too much,” Billy repeated.
“Want me to get Rhonda?” Pete asked.
“NO!” Billy shouted, and Pete drew back a step. “No,” Billy repeated, calmer. “Don’t want her to see. Want anybody to see. Not like this. Gotta keep calm, that’s all. Gotta. . .calm. Calm. Calm.”
Pete stayed quiet, contemplating the problem. He’d never seen Billy like this. He knew Billy had some issues, but didn’t know exactly what they were. Pete was at a loss as to what to do. He watched Billy walking for another minute before speaking.
“Billy, why not talk to me?” he asked. “I can listen. And I won’t tell anybody what you say. We’re friends, you know? What was bothering you?”
“Too many people,” Billy told him, still walking in a small circle. “Too crowded, too much noise. I can’t. . .I need to focus, that’s all.
I need to keep calm. Calm, calm, calm. That’s all. I just need to be calm. That’s all.”
Pete felt frustrated. He wanted to help, but had no idea how to get through to him.
“What helps calm you down, Billy?” Pete asked, keeping his voice conversational. “What makes you feel calm?” Suddenly, Billy stopped. He looked at Pete as if he had three heads.
“What?” he asked.
“What helps you calm down?” Pete repeated patiently. This seemed to be working.
“I don’t. . .I don’t know, really,” Billy replied slowly. “Usually just reminding myself that I need to be calm does it. It’s just. . .too. . . .”
“I know, Billy, it’s too much,” Pete nodded, not wanting to let Billy get back on that train of thought. “I even understand, a little.”
“You do?” Billy peered at him in the darkness. “How?”
“I was raised on a reservation, Billy,” Pete told him. “Wide open spaces, lot’s of solitude and empty space. Lot of it was desert, of course, but there were also some grass lands. I’ve watched over my uncle’s sheep, my grandfather’s cattle and horses, sometimes weeks at a time in camp. When I came back, all the noise and people talking put me on edge for a while.”
“I was so used to being alone, to the quiet, to concentrating on my work, that I couldn’t always drop back into being around my family. Sometimes it took several days for me to get used to being around them again.”
“You’re not used to being around so many people. At least not in a confined space like a house. And let’s face it, there’s a lotta people in there, and it’s loud.”
“Too loud,” Billy agreed, but seemed calmer. “And too close together.”
“Yeah, I know,” Pete sighed. “Like I said, it bothers me sometimes. I don’t much care for loud noise like that, because I can’t hear what’s happening around me. I like to know what’s going on around me.”
“So do I,” Billy nodded. “Awareness. You got to be aware. You gotta be able to see under the hood, gotta see what’s going on.” Pete nodded, rightly suspecting that this was a reference to Billy’s days as a shop owner.
