Since Tomorrow

by Morgan Nyberg

  “Worked up? Why, man, what do you think I’m worked up about?” He gripped Frost’s upper arm with the hand again, a hand the size of a shovel blade, and forced him to stop walking. He lowered his voice to a powerful whisper and put his face close to Frost’s. “I will be an enemy unto thine enemies, and an adversary unto thine adversaries. Yes? Yes, Frost?”

  Frost neither looked into the fiery face nor replied to the plea. He walked on, watching Solomon with his lunging gait draw near to the crowd. He said “You want to talk about the bridge. You want to talk about Langley.”

  “They’re down at my end now, Frost. They’re not up in the middle. I have waited for them to go away and they have not gone away. I have been patient. Behold, we count them happy which endure. But I have come to the end of my patience. I have come to the end of what I can endure. They stand there watchin’ us. They stand there laughin’. I will be an enemy unto thine enemies, and an adversary unto thine adversaries.” He shook his fists again, both of them now, and addressed his glare to the fog above his head. He tried to stop Frost again, but Frost would not stop. “You’ll help me, Frost. I know you will.”

  Frost said “Yes, Abraham, I will help you. I will help you by telling you to wait.”

  “Are you blind, man?”

  “I will not spill blood unless I have to. And neither will you.”

  “We would be strong, all of us together. Don’t you see that? And now I heard that you got Wing’s men too. We’d be strong. You going to wait till he takes over my place like he took over Wing’s?”

  “You’re ready, Abraham, you’re prepared. Wing wasn’t. If you let him provoke you, you will be putting all your people in danger. You could all be slaughtered. He’s up to it. I’m telling you to wait.”

  Close ahead the assembly of archers and watchers was shifting, losing whatever organization it had possessed. Tyrell and Daniel Charlie had placed themselves between Solomon and Noor. Solomon was trying to dodge around them, scattering the piles of arrows, calling “Noor! Noor!” People backed away with their bows. Loose bows were snatched off the ground to save them from damage. Behind the crowd, in the gloom under the bridge, Brandon was steadily cursing Frost.

  Fundy passed Frost as if they were in a footrace. But a few paces from the gathering he stopped. He threw up his hands and bellowed “Frost’s people! Frost’s people! Listen!” Everyone stopped moving, even Solomon for a few seconds. They waited for Fundy to say what he was going to say.

  He said “If you wait he will take this farm. He will take my farm, and then he will take this farm. He took Wing’s farm, and I don’t know why you think he’s going to set there on my bridge forever and a day. ’Cause he ain’t.”

  “Noor!” Solomon resumed his attempts. No matter how nimbly he dodged, his way was blocked by either Tyrell or Daniel Charlie. In a sudden flare of anger he stomped a foot and shrieked like a child and pushed out with both hands. He caught Tyrell square in the chest. Tyrell stumbled backwards and sat on the ground.

  Fundy ignored the business with his son. He said “Frost’s people, I am askin’ you to join me. I am askin’ you to stop waitin’ and to rise up. To rise up before it is too late.”

  But no one was listening to him. With a snarl Tyrell hurled himself toward Solomon. Frost rushed forward to help Daniel Charlie restrain Tyrell. Solomon backed away and was for a moment still and quiet.

  Now Noor walked around the edge of the crowd to where Solomon stood cowering. She took Solomon’s hand and led him to stand near his father. Still holding his hand, she said “Hello, Solomon. How are you?” The mist had left a veil of droplets on her coarse, tied-back hair, and the skin of her face was soft from the moisture. She smiled.

  Solomon said “I’m fine, thank you, and the Lord’s blessins on you.”

  “It’s nice of you to come and visit me.”

  Tyrell was taking deep breaths and looking at the ground. He nodded. Frost and Daniel Charlie let him go.

  Everyone except Fundy was now watching Noor and Solomon. Through narrowed eyes Fundy was glaring at Tyrell.

  Solomon said to Noor “I came to say I love you. I love you, Noor.” There was a warped, quacking character to his speech. From somewhere among Frost’s people came snickers. Noor ignored a speck of spittle which had landed on her cheek. Solomon lifted his free hand to pull her to him, but she took the wrist and placed the hand at his side, and he kept it there.

  She said “I know, Solomon. Didn’t you bring Wolf and Ring?”

  Solomon dropped Noor’s hand and started to bounce and to wave his arms. “Ring’s going to have puppies! Puppies! Do you want a puppy, Noor? Daddy, can Noor have a puppy?”

  Noor turned to Fundy, still smiling, and with the little finger of her left hand wiped away the droplet of spit. But Fundy seemed not to have heard. He was still glaring at Tyrell. He said “Did you touch my son, nigger?”

  There were murmurs of outrage. Someone said, more disgusted than angry “Go on home, Fundy.”

  Fundy appeared to be restraining himself with difficulty. He said, trembling “Noah put his curse on the sons of Ham. This means all niggers. Now, I come here to offer to fight together. I come to be an enemy unto thine enemies, and an adversary unto thine adversaries. But a son of Ham has touched my son, see. A nigger has lifted his black hand against my Solomon. Who is a just a poor simple retarded boy. Frost" Fundy called with passion “cast this nigger out into the wilderness. Cast him out now. Cast him out from this farm, so we can make a common cause. For he is a blight on your community and a hindrance to our salvation.”

  Frost said “You better go home now, Abraham.”

  Tyrell said “You want to see me lift my black hand? All right. But the next time you see me lift my hand, it will be the last thing you see in this life.”

  Daniel Charlie placed a hand on Tyrell’s arm.

  Solomon said “Can she, Daddy? Can she have a puppy?”

  Fundy sagged. He looked beaten, old. He stood there blinking, as if he had forgotten why he had come. Then he gave a twitch, and a light returned to his eyes. He said “Are those bows and arrows? Frost, are you getting’ ready to fight?”

  Noor took Fundy’s arm and turned him. She said “Tell me, Abraham. Tell me while I walk you back to your place. Exactly what do you want? I’m listenin’. I’m a good listener. Not like the others.” She said “No, Solomon, you walk on the other side of your daddy. That’s right. That’s a good boy.”

  Fundy half turned once and called “Are you, Frost? Are you gettin’ ready?”

  The three of them walked into the fog, toward the black targets, Noor holding Fundy’s arm, Solomon on the other side of his father, twisting and craning to see around him, finally lunging a few steps ahead and turning to walk backwards.

  Frost heard “...puppies!” He heard “...enemies... sons of Ham...” He saw Fundy shake his head sadly. Above the renewed clamour of his people he also heard a slurred but heated voice, from behind him, under the bridge “I’ll get you, Frost! You ain’t... You ain’t... big as you think. Give me my god damn hooch back. Bastard! Where’s my bottle? Where’d I put my bottle? Frost, did you take...? God damn you, Frost!”

  Frost went to Tyrell and patted a shoulder and said “Never mind, Tyrell, never mind.”

  The voice under the bridge was quiet for a minute. Then it was singing “...was a jolly, happy soul....”

  21

  Wing said “The smell of freshwater is the loneliest smell in the world. I’ve smelled it all my life.”

  They were squatting in drizzle on the narrow bank of the river, a few feet from the skeleton of the half-finished water wheel. The tide was running, and the current was swollen and fast.

  Wing said “My grandfather’s grandfather caught a sturgeon upriver from here. Hundred and fifty pounds.”

  Frost said “Daniel Charlie has told me similar stories. Maybe they’ll come back.”

  “Naw, the water’s changed. Nothin’ lives in it now.”

  “Am
ber says she saw a fish beside her barge.”

  Wing snorted “I wonder what kind of fish that would be.”

  There was a whistle. They looked up and saw Will on the bridge. Puppy was beside him, with her front paws on the railing. Will waved, and they waved back, and the boy and the dog moved out of sight away from the railing. Frost and Wing both looked downriver. Only two soldiers were to be seen on the crest of Fundy’s Bridge.

  Wing said “It must be like Fundy said. They’re down at his end.” He stood and said “Jesus, here comes a big branch.” Frost stood too, but the branch, thick and forked, swept past twenty feet out. It caught against one of the piers of piled stones, but then spun away. Wing said “Could’ve had some firewood. Or at least somethin’ for the Christmas bonfire. But you don’t like Christmas, do you?”

  Frost looked down and kicked at the dirt of the bank with a sandal. He said “I like a fire, though.”

  Wing said “I’m kind of off the holiday season too. After what’s happened. But once we’re rid of Langley I could become a Christmas person again. Once we’ve made him see the error of his ways. With a sword through his liver. Hopefully my sword. Yes, a sword through the liver could definitely lead to Deck the Halls and mulled wine.”

  The grey heavy water rushed on without a sound. The branch was already out of sight. The drizzle made a far-flung whisper. The men squatted again and watched the river. In a while Frost said “We better go in.”

  “Yeah.”

  They rose and had gone a few steps when another whistle, louder, came from the bridge. This time it was Deas. He signaled that they should look east. There was a noise, a clank of metal. From the shadow of the bridge, where the River Trail passed under it, two people emerged. They were tall and thin. They wore identical wool ponchos and kilts and leather sandals. They were bareheaded, and their dark hair hung to their waists. At this distance the only difference between them was the beard of one. They each had hold of a shaft of a two-wheeled cart and were straining to pull it forward along the uneven trail.

  Wing said “The Parts Gang has arrived. Mr. and Mrs. at least. What are they doin’ out on a day like this?”

  Frost said “They must need food.”

  Frost and Wing walked toward the pair, who looked up and saw them coming but kept pulling their load forward. When they were close they set the shafts down and waited.

  Frost and Wing shook the hands of the man and woman and each of them said “Hello BC. Hello Wind.”

  BC nodded a greeting. The woman looked at the ground and showed no expression. This close, there was no longer much resemblance between the two, other than their height and the wet dark hair. The woman was gaunt and had tired, resigned eyes, but there was a little colour in her cheeks, and she had full lips. One of those lips was split and swollen, and she had a bruise around one eye. Although there was no grey in his thin hair the man seemed much older than the woman. He was not wrinkled, but above his beard the yellowish skin of his face hugged his skull. It was as if the skin had shrunk. His moustache, soaked with rain and snot, hung over his lips. When he finally opened his slit of a mouth to speak, there were no teeth.

  “I brung your sheet metal, Frost. Where do you want it?”

  “Here’s good.”

  Without looking, BC gave the woman a push with one hand. She stepped over her shaft and began unloading.

  BC said “I got eight pieces. Hoods, trunk lids and doors. Like you ordered. Not much rust.” He had a weak, hoarse voice. He made eye contact with neither Frost nor Wing.

  Wing said “You look like shit, BC. What are you doin' out in the rain?”

  BC shrugged, sniffed, spat.

  Frost’s eyes narrowed slightly. He studied the man’s face.

  There was a crash of metal. One half of a car door fell from the woman’s hands. She grabbed the thin, rust-eaten edge of the other half before it hit the ground. She placed the rescued half-door carefully on the growing pile of sheet metal.

  BC stepped over the shaft on the woman’s side. She ducked her head and threw up an arm in defence. BC said nothing. He just punched her hard in the shoulder. She tripped over the split door and fell. But she scrambled up and darted away a few steps and stood there watching him, crouched, ready to run in any direction.

  BC came back to Frost and Wing. Looking away, he said “Okay, that there piece had a little rust.”

  Frost said “If you touch her again I’ll throw you in the river.” He glared at BC.

  Wing said “And I’ll be there to make sure you don’t come up.”

  BC continued looking away. Wind went back to unloading the rest of the pieces.

  Frost said “We’re building a water wheel. We can’t work with metal that’s falling apart.”

  BC shrugged, said “It’s forty years old. Fifty.”

  Frost said “Come up to the domicile, and I’ll give you your spuds.” He lifted from the wagon the trunk lid of a car. It had a corroded licence plate with the words Beautiful British Columbia. He laid it on the ground.

  Wing also stepped forward to help, but BC said “Your wagon is done, Wing. You can come and get it any time.”

  Frost came back from the cart. Wing was shaking his head and saying nothing.

  BC said “Buick chassis. Toyota wheels. Hand brake. We made good thick rubber tires. It’ll haul anythin’ anywhere. Just come and get it.”

  Wing sighed and said “BC, are you going to tell me you didn’t hear what happened to my farm?”

  BC tried to put a little strength into his voice. “I heard. Why wouldn’t I hear? ’Course I heard. It got took over. Anyway, just bring your steers and take it home.”

  “Home?”

  “Well....”

  Frost stood beside Wing, looking concerned. The woman had finished unloading and was standing near the wagon, listening.

  Wing said “If you heard my farm got took over, why didn’t you come and ask me if I still wanted the wagon?” Now Wing was shouting. “Why the hell would I need a god damn huge wagon if I’m livin’ over here in one of Frost’s rooms?”

  Frost glanced up. Half a dozen guards were standing at the bridge railing, looking down at them.

  BC spat. He stood there watching the river. His weak voice was steady, not loud. “You want to cancel a job, you got to tell me. Then you got to pay me for what I already done. Now, that there wagon is finished. You didn’t say nothin’, so you got to pay up.”

  Frost was watching Wing. He looked worried. Wing did not seem to know what to say.

  BC said “Fair’s fair.”

  Frost said to Wing “What was the deal?”

  Wing turned his back and walked away a few steps. He spat, shrugged and said quietly “Six months of food.”

  Frost said to BC “How many in your crew?”

  “Me and Wind and three more.” Now he did look at Frost. The eyes were dead. The whites were the same colour as the river. “Fair’s fair” he repeated.

  Frost looked down and scratched his beard. He nodded to himself a few times. Then he said brightly “I’ll tell you what.”

  On BC’s lipless face there appeared the slightest hint of a smile.

  Frost said “Could you make me a crossbow?”

  BC’s smile disappeared.

  Behind the narrow lenses of his glasses Frost’s eyes were eager, fresh and boy-like. He said “I’ve always wanted a crossbow.”

  The woman lifted a hand to cover her mouth, then dropped it.

  Now BC’s eyes were locked on Frost’s. With an obvious effort he glanced at Wing, who now had the same expression of excited anticipation. BC tried to say something, had to clear his throat, managed to croak “What’s a crossbow?”

  Frost said “What’s a crossbow! You don’t know what a crossbow is? I thought you were supposed to be a mechanical genius!”

  Wing said “Even I know what a crossbow is. And I’m just a farmer. Or was. You must know – a guy like you – buildin’ stuff all your life – travelin’ around with that
there cart.”

  Frost said “You must have seen them.”

  Wing said “There’s plenty of them around.”

  BC said “Crossbows.”

  Wing said “Yeah. They’re used for, you know....”

  He and Frost aimed two invisible weapons at BC’s face.

  For the first time, Wind spoke. Her voice was clear. The words came out fast and loud. “He don’t know nothin’ about crossbows. He don’t know what a crossbow is and I don’t neither. We build wagons and we trade metal. So just give us them spuds you said. And quit tryin’ to get out of payin’ for the wagon. We got a long trail home.”

  Frost took a short punch at the air in disappointment. He said to Wing “Damn! I really wanted a crossbow.”

  Wing patted Frost’s shoulder. “There, there, Frost. Maybe we can find you a crossbow somewhere else.”

  Frost looked hopeful. “You think so?”

  “Hey, I’ve got an idea! Why don’t we talk to that there guy who took over my farm? He’s got a whole bunch of them. What the hell was his name?”

  “Langtree? Lamebee? Something like that?”

  Wind grasped the shafts of the cart and started pulling it toward the domicile. She said “Come on, baby. We got a long trail home.”

  BC said “Oh, you mean them things that are used for, like...” He aimed his own invisible weapon at Frost, and Frost and Wing aimed theirs back at him.

  Frost said, as eagerly as before “Can you make me one?”