The old woman entered, with Alex close behind.
“Hey, you!” I called.
The woman’s head reappeared. “You’re not only big, you’re noisy. What?”
Sometimes you gotta go along to get along, Sister used to say.
I exhaled loudly. “I want to see, too,” I mumbled.
“What’s that?” But it was hard to hear her over the dogs and Val’s chuckle.
“I will deal with you later, buddy.” I jabbed a finger in his chest.
He only grinned wider. “Ooh, I’m shaking now, Red.”
“Speak up, big girl.”
I wanted to have a hissy, a real conniption fit, but my mad had gotten me in hot water before. No style points for hissies, hon. And the woman, after all, is armed. Okay. All right. I had resolved to let Big Lil be my guide, after all. “Call off the dogs and let me come in,” I said.
The shotgun was pointed at the ground, and for a second I wondered if I could cross the space between us quick enough to yank it from her.
“Don’t even think about it,” Val ordered. The man was spooky sometimes.
The old woman spoke up. “Your mama should have taught you some manners, girl. What do you say?”
Alex was smirking, Val was staring. Even the dogs seemed to be waiting for the magic word.
Oh, just do it, Big Lil snapped. She can call the cops on you, you know.
I wanted to slap Big Lil right off my shoulder. I didn’t say I wanted you ordering me around.
I’m keeping you out of jail, hon. Use your head.
I never said Big Lil couldn’t be aggravating. Especially when she was right.
I huffed out a breath of pure frustration. “Please,” I relented.
The woman cupped one hand around an ear. “That the best you can do?”
I stifled the urge to scream. Stomped my foot hard enough to send Val back a step.
“Come on, Red. We need to get in there before the kid does something crazy.”
“She’s gone way past that,” I muttered.
“Geri—” the woman said.
Geri’s ears perked. He bared his teeth.
“Prettypleasewithsugaronit,” I shouted. And bared my own.
“Hmmph.” The woman seemed disappointed. “Geri, Freki, down.”
The dogs looked at me as if to make certain I understood that if it were up to them, I’d be toast, then they plopped in the dirt.
“Welcome to Guns ‘N’ Glory.” The woman gestured us inside with a shark’s smile. “I’m Glory.”
I strode past Val without a pause, certain he still had that grin on him. Glory preceded me into the dim building. I crossed the threshold and glanced around for Alex.
She had stopped six feet in, right smack in the middle of the space, and stood stock-still. I nearly rammed into her back before I realized that she and I occupied the only clear spot in the whole place. Val and Glory were still in the doorway.
“Wow,” she said. “Cool.”
I couldn’t argue. The outside might have been plain and the windows barred, but inside, well . . . words failed me.
We were bathed in rainbows. Crystals hung inside the four windows, shooting arcs of red, green, blue, purple . . . the full spectrum of colors shimmered and danced in the air around us. I could barely focus on Alex, much less what lay past her.
And then I could. And understood a little better why the old woman wasn’t worried about the safety of her merchandise.
The walls were lined with safes of every size, from taller than me to short and squat, mostly in shades of black or gray or dark green. But massive, all of them. Other safes and cases of ammo created a maze, and there was barely enough clearance between for a person to walk, much less to open a safe door.
Behind me, Val whistled. “This slab must be dug way down to handle this much weight.”
“Five feet,” the old woman said. “Rebar at two-foot spans.”
That seemed to impress Val even more, though it meant nothing to me. Anyway, I was too flabbergasted by what else I saw. On the walls, between the expected animal heads, stuffed and mounted, there were scattered several paintings of women, fierce ones, all of them armed. One of them, sporting a horned helmet, looked exactly the way I imagined the Valkyrie would. Another figure, part of a group draped in flowing short gowns and clasping swords, might have been an Amazon, best I recalled the Greek myth.
But that wasn’t all Glory had on display. On top of the safes, there were lunch boxes of every imaginable era, some old metal ones with Roy Rogers or Howdy Doody, some in plastic with Miss Piggy or Hulk Hogan. Barbies of all stripes. Baywatch Barbie caught my eye. There was even a new, screaming-yellow soft-sided one bearing SpongeBob SquarePants.
I stared in amazement, itching to climb up and look through all of them for my personal favorite, the Bionic Woman. I had owned one once, and I would never forget the day Sister had brought it home, long after I’d given up hope.
You did real good on your report card, she’d said.
I guess. As usual, I’d had my head in a book and hadn’t even looked at her.
Pea, I got you something.
What? I put my finger on the page to mark my place, but then the next sentence captured me.
Pea!
I yanked my head up. Slowly, she’d pulled one hand from behind her back, and for a minute there, I couldn’t catch my breath.
I’m proud of your grades. She extended it to me, all bright plastic glory, and I barely managed to close my book before I leaped. I cradled it to my skinny chest and rocked it like the long-legged woman in the picture could show me how to jump off a house or race a hundred miles away from the snotty kids and the dumpy apartment and the school full of strangers.
Not until this minute had I stopped to think what Sister must have sacrificed to buy me that lunch box when we could barely make the rent. It got stolen within two weeks, but soon after we were gone, anyway.
I always believed, though, that the Bionic Woman could have made me stronger, if only I could have hung onto her. Eager to see if she was there at Glory’s, I took a step forward. Blinded by yet another rainbow, I smacked my hip right into a sharp metal corner. “Ow!” I jerked back and stepped on Glory’s toe.
“Big girl, you are about to get on my last nerve.” She not-so-gently yanked me back to standing. The woman might not have been a lot taller than Alex, but she was strong. Wiry. Might not even have needed that shotgun to handle most people.
I, however, was not most people. “And where do you get off trying to sell firearms to a minor? Maybe I’ll just turn you in.”
“I’d like to see you try it.” Her chin jutted, but she didn’t have room, with four of us crowded into a space that two would have a tough time maneuvering through, to lift the shotgun and point it at me.
“Red . . . ” Val warned.
“Oooh . . . ” Alex’s cry of delight interrupted whatever might have happened next. “Beauty and the Beast!” She began to scale the safe in front of her to reach it.
Val squeezed past me to stand guard, in case she fell.
I saw my opening. I leaned down and stared into the old woman’s pale gray eyes. “You’re right—we don’t have money to buy weapons,” I whispered furiously, “So if you help me persuade her to drop that notion, I won’t call the ATF agent who has the hots for me. And to be fair, I’ll scrape up the cash to buy her that lunch box. Now, are we going to cooperate or are we going to duke this out?” She hesitated, and I hissed at her. “You have three seconds to make up your mind.”
She glared at me, and I began to have hope that I’d found a solution. Even if the ATF guy was mostly my imagination, patterned on one who was a customer at Fat Elvis.
Instead, she laughed. “Nice try.” She brushed past me. “You can’t lie worth a damn.” She elbowed Val out of the way, set the shotgun on top of one safe and steadied Alex. “You like that, honey?” she asked louder.
Alex plucked it from behind a Teenage Mutant Ninja Tu
rtle and lifted it over the Bee Gees. She turned, cradling the purple plastic to her chest like a well-loved doll, her face, for once, glowing with pleasure. She was suddenly very young. A baby having a baby, lost in some romantic fantasy where a guy like Pretty Boy would morph into a handsome prince who would take her to live in his castle. “I used to have this one. Before...” The dreamy eyes got sad. Lonely.
“I’ll buy it for you,” I found myself saying.
Her eyes widened, then she hesitated. “Why?”
“Instead of the gun.”
Disappointment gave way to rebellion. “I can make my own deal.”
“Not and ride with—”
Val’s head whipped toward me, warning in his eyes. Then he stepped to her, lifted his hands. “Let me see it, Alex.”
She hesitated, then allowed him to lower her to the floor but pointedly gave me her back. They murmured together as if only the two of them existed in this space.
I was sick of being the bad guy. The only one with a lick of sense. I did an about-face and stalked out the door.
Glory followed me.
“I’d like to be alone, if you don’t mind.” I took another step away.
Her shoulder brushed my arm. I glanced at her, expecting to see triumph, but what I found was sympathy. “Teenagers. And girls are ten times worse than boys.”
I was about to respond when I caught a glimpse of something odd through the trees behind her, the curve of some sort of structure. “What is that?”
“What does it look like?”
“I don’t—” I stepped to the side, bent low. Then my eyes popped as it dawned on me what I was looking at. “A dome? Is that a geodesic dome?”
“What if it is?”
I swiveled to face her. I’d heard about them but never been in one. “You live there? Can I see it?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“‘Cause it’s mine. Round up your posse and move on before the girl gets another fool notion in her head. She’s worried about you, you know.”
“Me? What did she say?”
“That you need a keeper.”
My mouth dropped open, but before I could say anything, Val rushed outside, Alex limp in his arms. “What happened?”
“She collapsed.”
I leaped toward them, mentally riffling through the first aid manual at the store. “Did she say anything? Did she fall?”
Glory took over immediately, checking her pulse, lifting her eyelids with a confidence that was impressive.
“She’s pregnant,” I said.
“When’s the last time she ate? Has she been drinking water?”
I tried to recall what Alex had had for breakfast but I’d been repacking my trunk, and we hadn’t eaten together. We hadn’t found anyplace to stop for lunch, but I thought she’d had some peanuts at the last service station. I looked helplessly at Val.
“She said her stomach was queasy this morning. All she had was some toast. She bought a bottle of water, but she finished it a couple of hours ago.”
“Nothing serious, probably just fainted. Low blood sugar, maybe a little dehydration. A baby takes up a lot of a mother’s resources.” Glory glared at me. “Looks like you got your wish, big girl. Come on,” she grumbled to Val. “Let’s get her out of this heat. Get some water into her.”
We made an odd procession up the rutted road, dogs leading the way, Glory behind them, then Val carrying Alex and finally me, all but wringing my hands.
When the structure came into full view, it was far more than a simple dome. There was an unfinished mural painted over halfway up the sides, and it was like no mural I would have expected.
A dragon swooped down from a sky filled with lightning. A man stood between it and a small, peaceful village. There was something about the man . . . he wasn’t a knight but someone more primitive. Dressed in a loincloth, furs strapped to his calves, long hair with a headband, huge sword gripped in one hand, shield in the other. All gleaming muscles and sharp, bold features—
“Holy Moley. It’s Conan the Barbarian,” I blurted. Not the Arnold one but the character from the comics. Billy Simonson, who sat next to me in third grade, kept one in his backpack at all times.
“He was born in Texas, you know,” Glory said as she climbed the rise in the lead.
“Conan the Barbarian?”
“Good Lord, no. Robert E. Howard, the man who created him. He lived in Cross Plains. Died there. There’s a mural of Conan on the side of the library.”
“Where’s Cross Plains?”
“Over by Abilene. They have a Conan festival every year.”
Visions of cowboys dressed in loincloths but sporting boots and Stetsons were dancing in my brain, but just then we arrived at the dome.
Glory opened the front door, and we followed. “Put her on the sofa,” she said to Val.
I glanced around, couldn’t help goggling. The . . . room, I guess you’d call it, was basically one big area, except for a walled-off section I assumed was a bathroom. Everywhere I looked were figures or paintings of women, some as ancient as Greek mythology, others appearing to have stepped off the pages of a science fiction epic.
I hurried over to the sofa, where Alex was stirring. “What happened?” She tried to sit up, but she was still very pale.
“Don’t you dare move. Why didn’t you tell me you hadn’t eaten? Alex, you have a baby to take care of. You can’t be so careless—”
Glory inserted herself between us, giving Alex water to sip. “Here.” She thrust an orange at me. “Peel this,” she ordered sharply. Her expression brooked no argument.
I didn’t make sure she had water. With shaking fingers, I did as I was told, while I pondered how I could possibly consider keeping Alex with me when I was so obviously unsuited to taking care of anyone but myself.
Oh, Sister . . . and here I swore not to screw up with you again. Did babies have a chance to decide right up until they were born? I wondered. Was Sister watching and judging me to be no more capable than before?
“Hop to it,” Glory barked, startling me out of my misery.
I extended the orange sections to her. Looked around for what to do with the peel.
“I’ll be outside,” Val said.
“No—stay with me. Please.” Alex reached for his hand but didn’t even look my way.
Glory and Val turned their backs on me, focused on Alex.
Unwanted and useless, I left instead. Started walking the perimeter, examining the mural.
And stopped dead at the painting of a woman nearly Conan’s height. With lots of red hair. A sword, a big one. A real warrior woman.
I was transfixed.
“That girl’s gonna run away if you don’t loosen the reins,” Glory said, coming up behind me. “She doesn’t belong to you, you know.”
Truer words had never been spoken. “I’m only giving them a ride. I just met both of them.”
“Well, don’t rub her nose in it when she does something stupid. Pride’s a teenager’s worst enemy, and that girl’s supply of it is running low.” She paused, then continued. “You’re hovering like some mama hen with a brand-new chick. You got to give her some room.”
“She was letting some jerk beat the crap out of her,” I protested.
“So see to it that you don’t browbeat her while you’re so busy standing guard.” She stalked off and pointed, changing the subject. “That’s Red Sonya.”
I hurried to catch up. “Wasn’t there a movie once with Arnold Schwarzenegger and some redhead—”
“Forget that.” Glory dismissed that with a wave. “I mean the real one written by Howard. Or before her, Dark Agnes, the Sword Woman.” She looked me up and down. “Both of them your height, gobs of red hair like you.”
An honest to goodness warrior woman. My Viking blood stirred. “Where could I get copies?”
“The books are out of print.”
“You own either one?”
“What of it?”
“Could I read them? I’m fast.” My brain was buzzing over the prospect. This could not be coincidence, I refused to believe that. This was Fate, pure and simple. A sign. I had a great need to be strong, and look what had dropped right into my path.
“I only have Sword Woman, but no, I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“It’s a first edition. Anyway, you all need to head on out. Where you going?”
“New Mexico. I need to find a place to feed Alex a good meal first. How close are we to the nearest town?”
“About twenty miles, but you won’t find anything there until morning. Only café closes after lunch. Pickings are slim until Lubbock. That’s about three hours. Abilene’s closer, but you’d have to double back.”
I wanted real bad to sink to the ground and take a long nap. Maybe sleep until I could wake up and find that all of this had been a dream.
“I suppose I could feed you all supper,” she grumbled.
“Really?” My spirits lifted a little.
“I’m not a damn restaurant, though. You’ll take what you get. Then you clear out.”
“Oh, that would be great. Really great.” Hope stirred again. “Thank you so much. I can help. Just tell me what you need me to do.”
“Being quiet would make a good start. You’re a damn sight of trouble even before you start yapping.”
Up yours, you mean old woman, I wanted to say. Longed to flounce off, to gather up Alex and Val and stomp on the gas pedal, leaving behind me a cloud of dust and maybe even the satisfaction of squealing tires.
But just then, I caught the flicker, in Glory’s eyes, of something surprising.
Loneliness, I could swear. Given her social skills, was it likely she had any friends? She lived out in the middle of nowhere. Could it be that this fierce woman actually had a weak spot, or had I imagined that one vulnerable instant?
I’d barely met her, but I was pretty sure she’d be ticked to know that I’d seen it. She sure wouldn’t like pity. Tit for tat would work best, I decided. “I might, if you’d let me look at Sword Woman.”
Glory’s eyes narrowed, and I braced myself for her fury.
Instead, her lined face split into what some might call a grin, rusty though it was. “You just might have potential, big girl.”
The Goddess of Fried Okra Page 7
