by C. S. Starr
Connor’s oblivious ego never failed to amuse Tal. “Dude, you’re delusional. She’s gay.”
“You shouldn’t think of things as so black and white. She just hasn’t met the Wilde.”
“Don’t name your dick,” Tal groaned. “You know that doesn’t get you anywhere with the chicks.”
“Lots of chicks like taking a walk on the Wilde side. Maybe I could be all conciliatory and shit and give her and her girlfriend what they’ve been missing.” Connor blew a kiss in Tal’s direction. “You’re just pissed because I get more tail than you. It’s okay to admit it.”
“If anyone goes, it’s me,” Tal replied, shaking his head. “Because you’re going to come home without the Wilde if you go, because that chick, she’ll take it and not in the way you’re hoping.”
“I think she’s sexually repressed. That’s totally it with a chick like that. She’s trying to play a man’s game, so she goes after pussy in the hopes that it’ll make her fit in better.” Connor smiled.
“You’re so deep. No wonder the chicks can’t resist you.” Tal rolled his eyes. “If anyone goes, it’s me.”
“Maybe we should both go again.”
They thought about it for a minute and shook their heads.
“That’s a terrible idea,” Tal said.
“I knew it was as soon as I said it. I just…I feel like there was a real shot there, and I blew it.”
“Diplomatically, of course,” Tal chuckled.
“Absolutely.” He waggled his eyebrows. “My diplomat really wanted to work with hers.”
“So we’ll sleep on it?” Tal said, once they’d finished a series of penis innuendo and jokes that spanned the better part of half an hour, as was the norm on their drives. “And decide our next move?”
“We’ll have a coffee summit tomorrow morning on your porch.”
Upon returning home, after several beers, and arguing his way out of sex with Leah—which resulted in him making himself a can of beans for dinner that looked like they’d been in the house for a decade and probably had—Tal finally settled in to his father’s study to think about the Campbell situation. He had a brief fantasy about consoling Lucy Campbell, which resulted in him screwing her in the grass where they’d laid that night a couple of months earlier. Then his mind wandered to her girlfriend arriving, and before he knew it, he was rubbing one out on the worn leather sofa.
It wasn’t a productive evening, but it was a satisfying one.
When Connor arrived the next morning, Tal knew that, unlike himself, he’d spent the entire night thinking of a plan and his notebook would reflect this perfectly. There would be at least five neatly written pages outlining a way forward, all of which would make perfectly logical sense. Tal might have been good with money, and he was more even tempered than Connor, but was no good at long-term planning. Connor had him beat there.
“So, I think you and Juan should go. Just show up, offer your help, offer whatever we can give. Stay as long as necessary to cement the relationship. Probably don’t sleep with her.” He waved a finger at Tal. “Although you are looking extra manly with that two day beard.”
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Tal muttered, rubbing his stubble. “Since she is—”
“She’s what? Nineteen? Twenty? She doesn’t know what she is. She’s a dyke because it suits her purposes, like I said before. If you want to roll with the wolves, you’ve got to howl.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Tal chuckled, sipping his black coffee. “And I’m just saying, if the opportunity comes up, I’m probably not going to turn it down. There’s something about that girl, and I don’t usually go nuts for tail like you do.”
“If you’re smart you’ll keep your hands to yourself. You’ll play by her rules, and keep the business and pleasure apart. She seems to be winning with rules.” He shook his head. “Fuck knows why.”
“Fine. Whatever,” Tal mumbled. “You’ll keep an eye on Leah?” He glanced at his friend. “And by keep an eye on, I mean keep your dick out of—”
“Your cousin wouldn’t fuck me anyway. I’m not one of God’s chosen people. I fucking run shit, have millions of dollars, and I’m not good enough for her,” he muttered. “I’ll keep an eye on her. Hopefully when she’s out here in her little bikini, and she’s got it untied so she doesn’t get tan lines—”
“Fuck off,” Tal grumbled, punching him in the arm, happy that Leah could barely tolerate being in the same room with Connor most of the time.
“So you’ll go? You’ve lost brothers so you’re probably the best one there too.” Connor said. “We’ll keep a tail on you up there in case anything goes wrong.”
Tal thought about it for a few minutes. He decided it would be nice to get away from Leah for a bit, and have the chance to do something on his own, without Connor or anyone else dictating his actions. It was a great opportunity to set himself apart, and potentially forge an alliance where he was the lead. That, or he’d be the one to fuck things up even more than they already were. Tal doubted anyone could do any better than him though, least of all Connor. Strategy and negotiation were entirely different things.
He responded with a smile and a sharp nod. “Yeah, I’ll go.”
In ten years, through Connor’s strategizing, and Tal’s financial management, they’d managed to build an empire. Movies were made, kids became stars. Neither of them were as involved in that world as much as they once were, but a hell of a lot of the money they touched went into the film industry. Movies kept kids engaged and kept them happy. As long as there was culture, people were relatively civilized.
That day, nearly ten years after they’d released their first movie into fifteen theatres across California, Connor put Tal on a plane with a set of every DVD they’d ever made in a huge binder. There were hundreds of them, some quality and some embarrassing.
“You can sell what we do in a way she’ll understand,” he said, as he hugged Tal goodbye. “Call if you need anything to secure her support and I’ll do what I can.”
Tal nodded, looking down at his friend. “We’ll figure this out. This…it’ll be all right.”
“It will be good,” Connor replied optimistically. “See you soon.”
***
Juan still wasn’t speaking to Connor, but he was speaking to Tal. Unfortunately, this was mostly about what an asshole Connor was, and it went on for most of their flight.
“…All our lives, and he’d throw it away over two hundred bucks, that he did owe me….”
Tal zoned out over what had been Montana and tried to give some serious thought to strategy. He’d be nice. He’d be accommodating. He’d negotiate. He’d be more flexible than last time. If East was going after Campbell, West was surely in their sights once they’d moved Lucy Campbell out of their path straight to the Pacific.
He had to admit, he was excited not having any idea about what the next couple of days would bring. They landed in a field about two miles from Campbell, a bit more roughly than last time but safely, and Juan took a huge breath when he got off the plane.
“Fucking smells like freedom, doesn’t it?” he said, a huge grin stretching across his broad face. “Away from Connor, the kids. This is going to be a good time.”
Tal didn’t feel like bursting his bubble by telling him there was an equally good chance that it would be a terrible time. Instead, he just smiled and nodded as Juan continued rambling during their walk to the Campbell farmhouse. The town, which seemed to have been once called Fort Macleod from the signage, was busier than the last time they’d passed through it, with more and more buildings going up in every possible space. There were a few churches along the way that looked fairly well-maintained, but a couple that were in complete and utter disarray. The smell of cow shit persisted, but after ten minutes or so, Tal found himself acclimating to it as much as he could hope.
“This town is booming,” Juan remarked, as they passed a group of people constructing a house frame. “Do you really think it’s all for
her?”
“The farmland around here seems good too,” Tal shrugged. “But yeah, probably.”
They hadn’t been walking very long when they started getting stares from the kids they passed. Those kids didn’t look so different from them, although they were maybe a little better dressed, Tal thought, but when a wall of a man with an impressive moustache stopped them both dead in their tracks, they realized they stuck out like sore thumbs.
“Who are you?” he asked gruffly. “We’ve had some trouble with strangers in these parts lately.”
“We’re from West. We’re here to see Lucy Campbell and offer our support—” Tal winced as found himself pinned to the ground.
The man’s face went beet red with anger. “You don’t just come see Lucy Campbell. You got an invite?”
Tal shook his head, as the kid held him in place, and two more held Juan down similarly.
“Where’d you come from?”
“West,” Tal grunted.
“I mean now. You didn’t walk.”
“We flew,” Juan rasped. “The plane is a mile or so out.”
The boys exchanged looks. “I guess we take them to her?”
“We’ll just go and make sure she’s safe and they don’t mean her harm,” the big one said, before releasing Tal. “You better not mean her harm, or it’ll be the last thing you do.”
“We came to help. We’re from West,” Tal muttered, as he was shuffled onto the back of a pickup truck. “We’re not here to harm anyone. It’s just the two of us.”
A large machine gun was pointed at the two of them through the window of the cab of the truck. “Shut your trap,” the big guy barked. “And you better be telling the truth, because if you’re not, you’ll wish we’d just killed you on the road.”
Chapter 5
August 2001
Los Angeles, California
“I’m sorry about your dad,” Connor said with a sympathetic, heavy smile as he dipped his feet in the Bauman’s pool. “And your mom, and everyone else.”
“Me too…about yours,” Tal replied, wiping his eyes, embarrassed by the crack in his voice that seemed to have formed from so much crying. “Adam’s figuring out how we…what we do with him now.”
Joe Bauman was in the basement, under a heavy quilt. Cold. Still. One day he’d been teaching his boys how to make a few different easy meals, and the next he was shaking, shivering, unable to get warm. Then all the heat left his body and he’d stopped moving, for the first time in his life.
That was the night before. Tal missed him already, with an indescribable ache in his heart. What didn’t help was that when he thought about his dad, it reminded him of the rest, and he found himself mourning all over again for all of them. His aunt Alex wasn’t doing well either, and they all knew it was a matter of time.
“Do you think we’re next?” Connor asked absentmindedly. “That we’re all just going to go?”
“I don’t know,” Tal shrugged. “Hard to say, I guess.”
“I guess we’ll know when we know.”
Both boys looked up to see Adam tapping on the screen door, nodding at them to come inside. They stood and walked into the kitchen to find the Bauman/Schmidt family sitting around the table.
“Alex is gone,” Adam said quietly. “We’ve got to do something with them. Leah was on the phone for an hour trying to get in touch with someone to take them but there’s no one. Everyone’s...” he swallowed, glancing at tiny Rachel, Tal’s littlest cousin, who was seated on the floor between her sister’s legs. “There’s no one to handle this.”
Connor and Tal exchanged a dark look. “Okay?”
“We have to bury them,” Tal’s middle brother Rob said, taking a deep breath as tears welled up behind his eyes. He’d been handling things worse than anyone, and Tal had found him crying more than once in the bathroom, which usually got Tal threats of punching if he told anyone.
“You’re just going to bury them?” Connor said in disbelief. “Just dig a hole? You can’t do—”
“Yeah, we can,” Adam said bluntly. “And that’s what we’re doing.”
Connor was Tal’s friend, and he’d been around since he was a toddler, but Adam thought he was easily one of the most annoying kids he’d ever met and had told Tal so several times that week. “It’s not so different from what’s done. We’ve been to enough of these things this year to be able to do one ourselves. Time for you to go home.”
The graveyard was about five miles from their house, and an hour later, Joe Bauman and Alexandra Schmidt were laid to rest in two shallow graves beside their much more elegantly buried spouses. Each kid took their turn tossing dirt on the grave and took a minute to say their goodbyes.
Adam, the only one with a driver's license albeit not a full one, drove them home in silence. He, along with his cousin Mark, made dinner for everyone, and provided them with a reassuring smile or a hug if they needed it. They’d all promised their parents they’d do what they needed to to ensure life went on.
What that life looked like had yet to be revealed.
September 2012
Campbell
“We found them walking through town,” Joey, the big Mormon kid who had once bullied Lucy in school, announced. “They say they’re here to help.”
Lucy glanced at her brother who, arms crossed and scowling replied, “We don’t need any help. Get them out of here.”
Andrew Campbell was the oldest; at twenty-two, one of the oldest anywhere. He looked it. His twenty-two years were really more like forty Lucy often said, and she held onto a lot of the blame for that, no matter how many times he told her she didn’t have to. He looked like Cole and Lucy, with their grey eyes and dark hair, but was broader and stronger, with a great capacity for violence. Without anyone to keep him in check, that violence often manifested itself in ugly ways. The beautiful thing about Andrew though, was his great capacity to love his siblings, which he’d demonstrated time and time again in situations where most would have faltered.
“I’ll talk to them later,” Lucy said quietly, giving her brother a weak smile. “See if we can’t sort something out. Joey, take them to the trailer, and stick someone outside the door. Send Chubs to get the plane and tow it to the lot behind the church.”
“There’s not much to discuss,” Andrew grumbled, after Joey had dragged their visitors off. “What are those two assholes going to do for us?”
“Maybe nothing, but we don’t need to start a war on two fronts now, do we?” She turned to face her sibling. “Half their territory wants to join up with us anyway, and if we have to go to war, we’ll need those resources.”
“But we’ll just take them.”
“Maybe there’s a better way,” she said with a shrug. “Or maybe we’ll just take them.”
The two regarded each other for a minute, taking in one another’s appearance. Andrew had a dark tan from his summer up north overseeing the oil fields, a job Lucy had given him to keep him out of situations like the one they found themselves in that day. He was good at controlling the unruly kids that wanted to work out there, and had fostered a weird respect born greatly of his reputation. This respect got results, but Andrew Campbell was no diplomat.
“Ce, you need to eat something,” Andrew said gently, taking in his sister’s exhausted features. “You don’t look right.”
“I’m okay,” she said quietly. “And I’ll eat.”
Lucy and Cole hadn’t spent a night in different houses since they were born. It was quite a feat; twenty years of co-habitation through all they’d gone through. Although they actually hadn’t shared a room since their mother died, without him in the house Lucy felt every second of the day. It was like a quiet hum in the back of her head, one she wasn’t even aware of, had suddenly stopped. The silence was deafening.
Lucy hadn’t spent the two weeks since Cole had gone missing in a vegetative state on the couch, as easy as that would have been to do. Quite the opposite, in fact. She’d been to Calgary and then Ed
monton for a few days, to evaluate their resources there. She’d sat down with the local leaders there, her oldest and most trusted confidents, to try and devise a plan. The most fruitful meeting was an evening in a sweat lodge with Lucy’s best friend Sitting Bull, a hulking, handsome man with a closely cropped dark hair that had taken up leadership of the Blackfeet, and many of the other aboriginal groups that loosely fell within Campbell. They’d been close since she was eleven and he twelve, and had always worked together. He’d helped Lucy to mastermind their recent oil boom. The result of their meeting was the beginnings of a meticulously planned counter attack on East, once their numbers were increased by securing Seattle and Chicago, both very attainable goals.
A counter attack wouldn’t necessarily get the immediate result that Lucy wanted, which was getting Cole back, but it was the smart way to proceed. She had to trust that East wouldn’t hurt him as long as he was a bargaining tool, and he’d continue to be valuable to them for quite some time. If it came down to an ‘if you do X, then we’ll do Y’ situation with him, she’d negotiate, but as much as it pained her, there was a lot more at stake than her twin. She had thousands to consider.
It was late afternoon when Lucy woke on the couch, a quilt that she didn’t remember being placed there draping her from head to toe. The smell of something baked made her nostrils twitch and she followed her nose into the kitchen where Andrew and Zoey were standing over what looked like a partially eaten apple pie.
“Someone brought it over. A girl from a farm outside town,” Zoey remarked, her eyes, dark with concern, meeting Lucy’s. Lucy felt a pang of guilt over that, because she’d been unconcerned with everyone lately, least of all Zoey, who’d been forced to spend a lot of time with Andrew due to her absence. “She ate a piece in front of us to show it was okay. You want some?”
Lucy nodded, sitting at the kitchen table. “You should take something out to the boys in the trailer,” she mumbled, wiping the sleep out of her eyes as Zoey cut her a piece and Andrew paced in the kitchen. “Don’t want them using this as an excuse to decide we’re hostile.”
