Since Tomorrow

by Morgan Nyberg

  At the crest of the bridge Noor did not stop. Jessica offered to go on with her, but Noor shook her head. Jessica said “You better let me wash that cut for you.” Noor shook her head again and kept walking.

  Frost lowered himself onto the sidewalk with his back against the railing, and Will fell into his lap sobbing loudly. Frost rocked and soothed him as he watched Noor walk alone down toward the farm.

  In a loose huddle the guards and Daniel Charlie and Jessica speculated among themselves in low and secretive tones as to what might have gone on back there in the brush near Langley’s building.

  Margaret lay near the remains of Will’s fire, watching for King to return.

  Hemlock the Messenger sat down on the curb near Frost’s feet. He did not turn toward Frost. After a while Will stopped crying. Hemlock cleared his throat and said in his sad and throbbing baritone. “Too bad about the Church Gang.”

  Frost continued to stroke Will’s hair and said nothing.

  In the middle of the roadway Margaret rose. She looked down the bridge toward Town and wagged her tail. Standing above her, Daniel Charlie called “Come on, King! Come on, boy!” He squatted to greet the dog.

  Hemlock cleared his throat again. He said “What you said, Frost? Last time I saw yous? How Noor already gots herself a man? How she already gots Robson at the Church Gang?”

  Frost stopped stroking Will’s hair. He stared at the back of Hemlock’s head, at the twists of filthy brown hair hanging over the top of the nylon backpack, at the crescent of bald and sunburnt skin between the hair and the pink toque. He said in a pained whisper “Christ sake, Hemlock.”

  “I mean, I ain’t getting’ any younger. And like I says, Noor is all growed up now. I mean... That ain’t exactly what I mean...”

  Now Frost cleared his throat. He said “Thanks for the messages. Daniel will get you some grub. I won’t keep you. I know you’ve got to walk.”

  At last Hemlock turned and looked squarely at Frost. There was a soft light in the dull eyes, almost a smile. He said quietly, eagerly “Maybe I done enough walkin’. I was thinkin’ maybe I’d give up walkin’ and stay on Frost’s Farm.”

  Frost gently eased Will from his lap. The boy stood, wiped the drying tears from his cheeks. Frost also stood. He leaned on the railing and stared away toward Fundy’s bridge and beyond.

  Hemlock said “I can work. I picked spuds before. I ain’t just good for walkin’ and rememberin’.”

  Frost said evenly “Thanks for the offer, Hemlock, but I know you’ve got to walk.”

  “Last time you said Noor was a growed woman. You said I ought to ask her myself. But I thought I better ask you first, seeing as...”

  Frost spun around. Both fists were clenched. He screamed “Get off my god damn bridge!”

  When Margaret saw that Hemlock had departed and was well down the span she stopped trying to lick the blood from King’s muzzle and took off after her master. King watched her for a few seconds, then went to Will.

  42

  The moon had already set. The sky blazed with a sprawl of stars, but between his fur hat and his fur poncho Tyrell’s dark face was invisible against the night. He stood at the east railing, looking out over the river, which was imperceptible except for the low sound of its flow and an occasional spark where a star was reflected. He looked also over the empty flatland south of the river, which was black completely.

  On the western side of the lane divider a pale thread of smoke rose from an all but extinguished fire. Around this the guards were trying to sleep. A couple of them snored under skin throws. The rest were curled up like cats because of the cold. King lay against Noor, with his tail spread over his head. On the Town side of the fire Frost paced slowly from one side of his bridge to the other. As he stepped over the lane divider he looked briefly down the bridge toward Town.

  Beside Tyrell at the railing he stared with him for a minute into the eastern darkness. Tyrell muttered “See where the Big Dipper is? We’ll get some light in an hour.” Frost turned and paced back in the other direction. He stepped over the divider and looked briefly again toward Town. He stood above the sleepers for a minute, observing them in the insipid glow of the embers. Then he walked to the western railing and leaned on the freezing metal. In the starlight he could make out Fundy’s Bridge, its darker mass against the dark sky. He could see no fire on that bridge. He listened, heard only a random splash of the river, the snoring of his guards.

  Then he spun around, because King was on the far sidewalk beside Tyrell, barking into the darkness. Among the confused exclamations of the waking guards Frost leapt the lane divider. But Tyrell was already running toward the south end of the bridge, away from Town, toward Frost’s Farm. His voice boomed “Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!” Somewhere ahead of him down the bridge King’s barking was growing fainter.

  They grabbed weapons and raced down the span. Frost ran on the sidewalk, where there was less clumped grass to trip over. He could not keep up. At the bottom he jogged down the exit and onto his farm. His heart was crashing, and he was gasping for breath. He followed King’s barking and kept on until he got to the point where the River Trail passed under the bridge. He made out the blur of the skin ponchos of his guards, slightly paler than the surrounding darkness. Behind them he stopped. His breath came in shrill wheezes. He wavered on his feet. But he stood straight and peered over the heads of the guards into the space under the bridge, where he saw nothing.

  When Frost could speak he said “Settle down.” King stopped barking.

  Soon Frost was able to make out some shapes under the bridge, fur ponchos like smudges in the dark. He detected also the paler shapes of store-bought synthetics. He heard the clink of crossbow bolts. Someone hawked, spat.

  A match flared. Frost saw Langley’s clean-shaven and blotched face. Frost’s guards had maneuvered into a single line. They stood with arrows on their bows, ready to draw them. Frost stepped between the guards to the front. King had a leash on now. Frost took it from Tyrell.

  Langley said “We got matches, Frost. You got matches? You guys ever seen a match? Noor, you ever seen a match? This here is a match.” Next to Langley Freeway could now be seen in the light from the flame, which was motionless in the windless night. Its light reflected from an aluminum baseball bat that Freeway held toward Langley. A wad of rags was wrapped around the end of the bat. Langley said “We got torches. You got torches?” He held the match to the wad of rags. The rags caught slowly, but in a few seconds they were burning with a steady strength. Langley said “Oil, Frost. You ever heard of oil? We got it.” He flicked the match toward Frost, but it fell well short and lay burning on the ground for a few seconds.

  Freeway turned and moved among the soldiers, lighting six more rag torches from his own. Black smoke rose. The smell of the burning oil was strong. There were about thirty soldiers. They held drawn crossbows. Those who had the torches held their crossbows with their free hands.

  Freeway came back with the torch and stood again beside Langley, who had no crossbow, just a sword in his belt, and the baseball bat torch. Langley said “You can get it out of cars. BC got it for us. He said you took his skag. You short on skag, Frost?”

  Frost said “Get off my farm.”

  A few of the guards spoke up as well. Frost took another wrap of the leash as King pulled forward.

  Langley hawked, spat in Frost’s direction, wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his leather jacket. He said “Nice to see your men again. Your men and Noor. I thought there was more of yous. Where’s the rest? Over on Fundy’s Bridge, I guess. Right, Frost? ’Cause this is just sad. Five men. Five men and Noor and old Frost. And one dog. Where’s the rest of your dogs, Frost? I thought you had a lot of dogs. A whole bunch of nasty killer dogs to protect your farm. They run away or what?”

  Frost said “Get off my farm.”

  Langley stretched his arm out and behind. One of his men placed a rifle in his hand. Langley aimed the rifle at Frost’s face. He held
the aim for a few seconds.

  Frost said “Go ahead. Before I hit the ground you’ll be dead.”

  Langley gave a little laugh and lowered the rifle.

  For a minute it was quiet except for King’s low, eager whines. A breeze slid off the river. The smoke from the torches twisted into dense curls. Above, the light wavered on the underside of the span.

  Langley cleared his throat. “It’s not your time yet, Frost. I didn’t come to kill you this time. When I come to kill you I’m just going to kill you. I’m not going to stand around talkin’. And I’m not going to light up my men with torches so’s yous can shoot at us easier. With them little arrows of yours. With the new points on them made out of the car doors BC give you for your waterwheel. Them points could give a guy a nasty cut. You think, Freeway?”

  Freeway said “Naw. A scratch maybe.” He held the torch above his head, so that the light threw jagged shadows across his and Langley’s faces.

  “It don’t matter. I got bandages. I got medicine.” He stood with his arms folded. He said “Jeez, ain’t it cold.” He hawked, spat, wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket.

  Frost said “Say what you’ve come to say.”

  Langley said with restrained annoyance “Don’t tell me what to do, Frost. It aggravates me. I’m tryin’ to be patient, here. I’m tryin’ to do you a favour. I’m tryin’ to do all of yous a favour. You think I like comin’ out in the middle of a cold night? You think these here soldiers like walkin’ for miles in the dark and cold? Just so’s you and me can have a nice talk? No, Frost, the reason I come like this, takin’ all of yous completely by surprise, even takin’ the one dog you got left by surprise, is I want to do you a favour. I want to be nice to you. Ain’t that right, Freeway?”

  “You got the milk of human kindness, Langley.”

  “You hear that, Frost? Even though you keep killin’ my men, I come out on this cold night to extend a helpin’ hand. Ain’t that right, Freeway?”

  “I don’t know, Langley. What’s a helpin’ hand?”

  Langley looked down at his boots for a minute, scuffed at the ground, ran a hand over his face. He cleared his throat again. He said “I got twenty-eight soldiers here, Frost. How many do you think I got over on Fundy’s Bridge right now, cuttin’ the throats of your men while they’re sleepin’? How many soldiers do you think I got slippin’ onto the south edge of your farm, quiet as mice? Slippin’ out of the burbs. How many do you think are climbin’ up the stairs of your buildin’ right now?”

  He aimed the rifle over the heads of Frost’s men, toward the domicile. There was a sharp crack, a wink of flame at the muzzle, and the tick of the bullet hitting distant concrete.

  Tyrell said “Just say the word, Frost.”

  Langley laughed, said “That’s funny, Tyrell. I heard yous black sons of bitches like to joke around and sing and dance. Well, Frost, there’s no soldiers. None on Fundy’s Bridge, none comin’ out of the burbs, none in your buildin’. Not tonight. Not yet. But there could be. That’s the point, ain’t it, Frost? There could be. The only reason yous ain’t all dead on both bridges is I’m eager to do yous a favour. The only reason I ain’t sittin’ in front of that nice fireplace I hear you got is I don’t want to kill no one. I’m a man of peace, see.”

  Tyrell said “You’re a cockroach. And you’re going to be a dead cockroach any second now.” Tyrell drew his bow and aimed it across the few yards that separated him from Langley. The arrow was pointed toward Langley’s chest. The rest of Frost’s men also drew their bows, but Noor did not.

  Langley shrugged. He said “Jeez, Tyrell, I liked it better when you were bein’ funny.” Langley’s soldiers laughed, but uneasily. One of the torches went out, then another. “Well, Frost, it’s cold, and I already made my point. Which is I can take your farm any time I feel like it. So maybe we’ll head on back. We had a nice full moon, didn’t we, before it set? You got till the next full moon to move your people over to Wing’s farm. I’ll clear my men out of there for you. Just come and knock on my door to let me know. I’ll be at my buildin’. Or else I’ll be out at my place at Skagger’s Bridge. Now I think I’ll be getting’ back home. I got to choose which one of Wing’s honeys is going to keep me warm tonight.”

  Freeway’s torch faded and went out. His form and Langley’s were silhouettes against the light behind them. Two of the remaining four torches went out. Langley said “We’re goin’ to the buildin’ now. You know where it is – over near the foot of Fundy’s Bridge. It’s a long way back the way we come, back over Wing’s Bridge. So yous won’t mind steppin’ out of the way so’s we can take the short way across your bridge.”

  Frost said “I told you to get off my farm.”

  ‘I done you a favour, Frost. I come out on a cold night to explain how things are. ’Cause I figured you might not completely understand. I wanted to save the both of us a lot of fightin’ and killin’. I said you could have till the next full moon. Most people would call that generous. So I think you owe me a favour. We just want to walk across your god damn bridge.”

  Frost did not reply. One of the two remaining torches went out. Langley said to Frost’s guards “Your arms must be getting’ tired, pullin’ on them bow strings. You better put your bows down before someone lets go by accident. So’s we can talk over this favour I’m askin’.”

  No one slacked off their bow.

  Langley said “Hah! I thought yous were a civilized crew over here.” His voice had acquired a high-pitched whine. “That’s a word you don’t hear no more, ain’t it? Civilized. I thought that was what you were all about, Frost. Civilization. Which means getting’ along with people. And here I am tryin’ to do things in a civilized way, tryin’ to get along with you. And you tell me to clear off your farm. I’m tryin’ to save lives, see. I’m tryin’ to set up a swap, a simple business deal – your farm for Wing’s farm. By your farm I mean Fundy’s too, of course. But you’re tryin’ to get people killed. And that ain’t necessary. And it ain’t civilized.”

  For a while it was quiet again. The only sounds were the nervous shifting of men trying to hold an aim, and a few clinks of crossbow bolts. Langley said firmly “Watch your men don’t let go of them bow strings.” Then he said, with the whine more pronounced “Why won’t you let us walk over your bridge?”

  Frost said “Speak up.” King started barking and snarling. Frost let the dog pull him a step closer to Langley.

  Langley stepped back. He shouted “Do we got to kill yous, then? Is that what you want, Frost?”

  The last torch went out. In the solid dark below the bridge there were murmurs of confusion among both Langley’s soldiers and Frosts guards.

  Frost took another step forward. King kept pulling and snarling.

  Langley shouted “I got this here gun pointed right at you, Frost.”

  Frost said “Settle down.” Except for occasional whines King fell silent. Frost said “Get off my farm.”

  From behind Frost someone ran forward. Guards and soldiers both shouted, but no one shot. Frost hollered “Noor, don’t!”

  Then Langley appeared to be on the ground. Noor appeared to be on top of him. There was a lot of scuffling. Langley called out “Ow! God damn it!” With another crack and another spit of flame the 22 went off. Langley’s men dodged back from the struggling pair. Langley croaked “She’s chokin’ me! Kill her, Freeway!”

  Noor did not make a sound.

  Frost said “Get her, Tyrell.”

  Freeway’s bat made a pale, swift arc. There was the sound of a small bone cracking. Langley screamed hoarsely. Freeway said “Shit. Was that your finger, Langley?”

  Langley thrashed. Noor was thrown stumbling backward past King and came to rest sitting against her grandfather’s legs. Tyrell grabbed her. Another guard helped him. She was still silent as she struggled to free herself from the two men.

  Freeway said “Sorry, Langley. I was tryin’ to kill Noor.”

  Langley got to his feet. He said �
�You busted my god damn finger.” His voice was raw.

  “I’m sorry, Langley. I was...”

  “Shut up!” Langley was moving away, through his soldiers. The soldiers followed, with their crossbow bolts clinking freely in their bags. They left behind them on the ground the smouldering torches, including the baseball bat.

  43

  Noor sat on the floor in front of the fire. She was hugging her knees, rocking slightly from side to side. She had been there a long time, resting a cheek on one knee and rocking.

  Will was pushing himself backwards in the wheeled office chair, to every accessible corner of the apartment. He did figure eights and circles and spirals.

  Noor stopped rocking for a moment but did not raise her voice. “Will?”

  Will stopped scooting the chair.

  “Will, could you stop that? It’s awful noisy.” She waited. There was no further sound of rolling. She started rocking again.

  Will said “It’s not raining.”

  Noor did not reply.

  Will said “Can I go outside?”

  Noor shrugged. She said “Where?”

  “Just out to the barns. Maybe down to the river.”

  “Stay where they can see you from the bridge. Take your bow.”

  “I don’t like carryin’ that bow all the time. It gets in the way.”

  Noor turned sideways to the fire. She leaned back on her hands and looked at Will. She said “Could you shoot someone with it?”

  He sat slouched in the office chair, looking back at her. Then he lowered his eyes.

  Noor said “Take it anyway.”

  Will scooted the chair back and forth a few inches. “I wish I could be alone some time. With nobody watchin me. I wish I could just be alone someplace peaceful. Like I always used to do.”