by E A Lake
Sharon rose from the couch and parted the curtains, gazing outside. Turning, she smiled at Judy. “We never made it to school. Well, that’s not entirely true. I went to a year. Judy never got to.”
Sharon moved back to the couch, standing above her cousin. “I don’t even know if there were seven kids in my first-grade class. When you think back like that, your memory plays tricks on you. I had my friend, Tracey Caulkins. I remember her. But I don’t remember anyone else’s name.” Sharon reached down and stroked Judy’s long brown hair. “Do you sweetie?”
Judy giggled and looked away. “I remember this boy in Sunday School. Matt.” She glanced around the group. “I don’t remember his last name. I just remember he kissed me at Christmas.” She blushed. “I don’t remember why. I just remember he kissed me.”
Tiny laughed from the corner. “I ain’t ever kissed a girl.” The cousins looked at him with disbelief. “Ask Jim, he’ll tell you.”
Wilson shrugged. “He’s always been so tall and he was huge back then. You know, kinda overweight. Back when we had plenty to eat.” He felt his face darken. “I think all the girls were scared of him. Every girl we ever met was scared of him.”
His eyes narrowed as he focused on Tiny’s face. “But some day, you’re gonna find a nice girl, and she’s gonna appreciate you. And she’ll love you and give all the kissing you ever wanted.” Tiny blushed now. Jimmy saw Judy wipe a tear from her eye.
“Did they give us any cookies back in Menomonie?” Wilson asked. “Or maybe some breads? I could go for a bite.” He strolled to the kitchen. Tiny rose and followed, Judy and Sharon trailing behind him. It was time to take inventory from their last deal.
Chapter Six
In the small kitchen, Tiny moved the larger pack with food to a counter for Sharon and Judy’s inspection. Pulling items from the dirty bag, Sharon called out their food supply.
“Three, no, four bags of dried beef,” she started.
Wilson grunted a laugh. “Most likely horse.” He stared at the open eyes peering at him. “Come on, when was the last time you saw a cow out here? Think, people.” He flashed a quick grin as Sharon returned to her task.
“Six bags of dried carrots, eight bags of dried beans, eight bags of what appear to be dried apples. Judy?” Sharon opened the bag and Judy took in the aroma. Judy nodded.
“Apples. Another six of pears, I think.” Sharon dug deeper into the pack on the counter. “Another few bags of dried corn; sweet corn, I hope.” She saw Wilson’s disagreement from the table.
“Young field corn at best. They probably keep the sweet corn for themselves.” More stares. “What? I’m just being realistic.” He looked away, perturbed with his friends.
“Cynical is more like it,” Sharon countered. “Three bags of flour, big bags; nice. Some sort of nuts. Tiny?” she asked turning. “Are these peanuts?”
Tiny inspected the bag carefully. Finally, he opened the twist tie and put one in his mouth. His face contorted as he pondered the legume. “I suppose they’re peanuts. Been a while since I had any. They’ll have protein in them no matter what they are.” He handed the bag back to Sharon as Judy wrote out a complete list of their food.
“Says the kid who grew up on a hog farm.” Wilson’s foul mood spewed out as he rose. “What the devil do you know about protein, Tiny?” Wilson grabbed the bag, opening it hastily. He collected a handful of its contents and threw several in his mouth. Crunching on the food, he stared at Sharon. “Dried, salted soybeans. They ain’t nuts. They’re soybeans. Etadonkey I think they used to call them.” Satisfied with himself, he handed the bag to Sharon.
She tore the offering from his grasp. “Edamame, you ignorant idiot. And they’re Japanese.” She stared at the counter and swore to herself. “Do you know anything?” Slowly, she turned and faced Wilson. “Anything. Anything useful. Anything at all?”
Wilson grinned and waved her off. “I know a lot. Just as much as anyone else nowadays. Kept us alive for the last eight years, haven’t I?” He returned Sharon’s harsh stare, unfazed by her angry words.
Judy touched her cousin’s arm lightly. “Let’s stay on task. He’s fine; he’s trying to help. Don’t be so critical. Your mother wouldn’t like it.” Judy nodded as she finished; Sharon took a deep breath and went back to her work.
“So, what do we have here? Maybe 20, 30 pounds of food?” Sharon’s eye squeezed tight as she calculated their needs. “We need more. A lot more if we’re going from Elk Mound to the south shore of Superior.” She looked back at Wilson, catching him deep in thought.
“Here’s what I figure,” he started slowly. “That guy in Menomonie said there was some houses in the hills just north of Elk Hill.”
“Elk Mound,” Tiny corrected.
“Elk Puke, whatever,” Wilson continued. “Said there were some rich folks that lived there once. People who had so much, they couldn’t take it all with them.”
He smiled at the group. “Our kinda people. People that would hide things around the house so they could come back and fetch them when things got better.” He smiled and shook his head at no one in particular. “Course, things never got better. So it’s just all sitting there. Waiting for a nice group of finders to come along and find it all.”
Judy munched on a slice of dried apple, lost in her thoughts. “Okay, let’s say we make a good haul there in Elk Mound.” She smiled at Wilson. “Like we did just this side of Sioux Falls. I mean a major find.” Everyone nodded as she spoke. Wilson recalled the huge stash of gold and other necessities they found in a series of houses a year or two back. “Where we supposed to trade it?”
Wilson went to speak, but Judy cut him off. “And don’t say Eau Claire. They’ve been warning us about Eau Claire since before we got to St. Paul. Everyone has said it’s a bad place. What’s the name of the boss over there?” Judy looked around the room for help.
“Captain Wayne,” Tiny added quietly. “Yeah, they all said was he the worst thing in Wisconsin. Maybe even the Middle West.” Tiny sighed as he finished.
Wilson rose from his chair and sat on a corner of the kitchen table. “If we don’t go to Eau Claire, we’ll have to go back to Menomonie, or St. Paul. I don’t really trust those thieves in Menomonie. I think we got shorted. Either way, it’s backtracking, people. We can’t backtrack. We all agreed on that.” Wilson had a good argument; they would all had to agree on that point.
Sharon scratched at her short, dark hair. “I don’t want Judy going into Eau Claire. That one lady in St. Paul said she lost a daughter or a niece there. Never knew what happened to her. Not a safe place for decent people.” The cousins smiled sadly at each other.
“Me and Tiny can go in and make the trade,” Wilson suggested. “Right Tiny?” Tiny shrugged his shoulders without looking up. “And who knows, maybe we won’t make a big haul in Elkville. Maybe it’ll be a bust.” He saw Sharon’s concerned look.
“What do we still have for trade?” She asked Wilson. He moved for his bag.
“Okay.” He began digging in his matching green backpack. “Few pieces of gold jewelry, couple rings, box of shotgun shells.” He set the items on the table as he called them out. Staring at the shells, he continued. “That’s not a real popular gauge I don’t think. So if we find the right fellow, they should be gold. Small bag of seeds and a couple pieces of silver.” He continued digging.
“Three plastic jugs of vodka, a box of cigars...” He shook his head digging out the last item. “And Tiny’s biggest folly to date: a bag full of paper money. Completely worthless paper money. What’s in here, Tiny? A thousand dollars?”
Tiny ran his large hand through his freshly cut hair. “The guy said it’d be worth something again someday. I still remember my parents using the stuff. They would have killed for a bag of money that big back then.” Tiny, Wilson knew, was only defending his misguided trade.
Wilson dropped the bag back into the depths of the backpack. “All it’s good for now is starting fires. And it ain’t real gr
eat at that most of the time.” He softened as he noticed Tiny’s embarrassment. “That’s okay, Randy. We’ve all made mistakes out here. No big deal.” Tiny smiled at Wilson finally. Still best friends.
Judy changed the subject. “What didn’t you like about Menomonie, Jim? They took everything we offered, and gave us a decent pile of food in exchange, plus real beds to sleep in for one night – in a protected area no less – baths with hot water, a nice supper and a good breakfast. They all seemed nice to me.” Judy threw another slice of apple between her pale, thin lips.
Wilson’s eyes lit up. “That huge bag of heirloom seeds was worth all the food we got. And then we gave them five pounds of gold, most of the jewelry and that box with all that canned fish none of us could stand. I just think they shorted us on food.” He went and stood next to Sharon. “How about you, boss? You agree with me?”
Sharon raised an eyebrow. He knew she hated agreeing with him. “Yeah, the more I think about it, the more I think they shorted us. Ten pounds or so.” She turned to watch the rain fall outside. “Wilson’s right. We can’t go back there. Not if we want a fair trade. And we need it to get us up to Ashland for the winter. There’s not many large towns between Eau Claire and Ashland. Heck, there ain’t hardly many towns of any size to trade with that way.”
Wilson continued with his plan. “So if we hit a big load in Elk whatever, Tiny and me will take it into Eau Claire for trade. I’ll make sure they all see how big Tiny is. That way they should be fair. I’ll lean on them if I have to.” He smirked for a moment. “Remember, I still got that pistol from Jackson. Never loaded it or anything, but it’s still in the bottom of my bag. So if Tiny and me get spooked at all, I can always dig that out.” Grabbing some carrots from the bag, Wilson finished and returned to the table.
Sharon eyed Wilson carefully. “I wish you never traded for that gun. I just think it’s trouble. Never been a need for one out here. No one’s ever pulled a gun on us. Couple knives maybe, but never a gun. I just worry it could get used against us.” Judy agreed with a quick nod.
Tiny cleared his throat. “There’s no guns because there’s no bullets left. Or a limited supply of bullets at best. Ten years ago, everyone had a gun. Now, heck; I ain’t heard a gunshot in a year I bet.”
Wilson grinned as Tiny finished. “I know how you all feel about it. I’ll leave it in the bottom of my bag until we get somewhere with some deer. Then we’ll use it to get us some meat. That’s the only reason I took it, so we could have meat, when we find some.” His eyes floated in Tiny’s direction. “I’m not even sure I remember what a deer looks like. When we were kids, they were everywhere. Nowadays, heck I ain’t seen one in months I bet.” Shrugs from the group confirmed his thoughts. No one had seen a wild animal in a long time.
One by one, they each grabbed some food and found a quiet spot to eat. Judy and Sharon sat together in the living room, sharing sisterly small talk. They’d known each other their entire lives and hadn’t spent a day apart in over 10 years. They thought as one, ate as one, slept as one and even bathed as one, Jim knew. Sharon protected Judy and her innocence like a bear watched its kill. She’d do anything for Judy. And Judy would do anything for Sharon.
At the kitchen table, Tiny sat and ate alone. It never bothered him to eat by himself. He liked the quiet and wanted to enjoy every last bite of his nourishment. While others liked to talk during meals, he preferred silence. Just like his best friend Jim.
Wilson sat alone, outside on the rear porch. His gaze drifted around the miles and miles of open fields surrounding this farmstead. Thinking of his boyhood home, he wondered if everyone was still alright back in McCook. Sometimes, in darker moments, he wondered if any of his family was still alive. Rocking stoically, he thought of his younger brothers, Tim and Leon. They were both teens by now, maybe almost 20. Were they still on the farm or had they taken to the road like him? God, he hoped they weren’t finders. What a terrible way to live.
His hand slowly moved to his face, rubbing his short beard. It had been longer for the past year, but he decided to get it trimmed in Menomonie a day back. A sad laugh escaped as he thought of his little sister, Julie. Five years younger than he and light years smarter. She used to kid him about his sparse facial hair. She loved nothing more than to rub his face and tell anyone within shouting distance he was as smooth as a baby’s behind. How he hated it back then, the kidding. What he wouldn’t give to see her now, even if just for five minutes. She’d be 21 and probably the most beautiful and sought-after girl in all of McCook. She was the only one he truly cherished. The others could fend for themselves. But only Julie cried as he left that last time, some 10 years back. Only Julie really cared, in his mind.
The creak of the screen door signaled someone ‘s arrival. Wilson looked up at Judy, smiling her sweetest his way. He leaned back in the chair and returned a grin. “What’s up?” Judy came and took the open chair on his right. Peering at the rain, she reached for his hand. He thought against it for a split second, but decided she needed another human’s touch.
“Sharon and I were just in there talking about home. It made me sad. I just wanted to see what you were up to.” She stared far off into the distance. Gently, she ran her thin finger across the side of his hand. She frowned and turned to Wilson. “How much longer can we live like this? I mean, we can’t do this forever. There must be somewhere we can settle down eventually, right?” Her caring eyes waited on Wilson’s reply.
He thought silently, still staring at the field to his north. “Ashland is supposed to be a nice place. At least, that’s what a couple of people have said lately. Some form of decent government. Protection, clean water, some food. Not one of those labor camps like Omaha and Sioux Falls have become, where you work all day for 600 calories and a slab without a pillow. I think that’s what they mean about Eau Claire. Seems like the boss there has the same plan.”
He turned and peered at Judy. “We need a decent place, where we won’t be slaves or unsure of our safety. St. Paul was wild and lawless. Too many warlords there. All those other little towns,” he let out a small laugh, “they’ll take our trades. Give us some stuff. But at the end of the day, they don’t want our kind in there. Now that you have a mark, you’re one of us. Most decent places don’t want finders around.” Wilson’s returned his gaze to the field. The rain picked up in intensity.
Judy squeezed his hand and sat back in her chair. “I’ve always been one of you; us. Even without a mark. You’re my family.” She choked up the word “family”. Sitting quietly, they watched the rain until nightfall.
Chapter Seven
Early the following morning, Wilson sat alone in the kitchen. He ate a handful of dried beef and followed it up with another fistful of carrots. Taking small sips from his water supply, he shook the last cobwebs of sleep and listened as footsteps descended the stairway from the bedrooms above. He wondered who would be up next.
Sharon walked into the small kitchen and nodded slightly at him. “Morning, sunshine. Sleep well?” she asked.
Giving a small grin, Wilson stared at the woman. “Yeah. Rain let up finally in the middle of the night. I slept real good after that.” He leaned back on the steel kitchen chair covered in red vinyl.
Sharon took the spot across from him at the table. “I didn’t see Judy in her bed when I woke up. Any ideas?” she asked, taking a sip from her water bottle.
Wilson nodded. “Yeah, she snuck in by me in the middle of the night again. Must have had one of her dreams.” He stretched his neck from side to side, listening to the vertebrae pop. “Woke up this morning and there she was. All snuggled in nice and cozy.” He glanced at Sharon. “No big deal.”
Sharon leaned forward on her elbows, staring at her friend of eight years. “She trusts you. You know that, right?” Wilson shrugged. “She does, Jim. When she’s scared, you’re the one she wants to be by. Not me, not Randy; you.” Sharon’s stared at him intensely as he looked away.
“Yeah, whatever. It’s fine
.” Slowly, he rose to grab another handful of dried carrots. Standing at the counter, he turned to face Sharon again. Her stare intensified. “What?”
Sharon sighed and crossed her arms. “That’s what bothers me. You make fun of her, treat her like crap, point out every weakness she has. And still, when she gets frightened by something in the middle of the night, she crawls in by you. Not me, not Tiny. Why do you suppose that is?”
Wilson closed his eyes and rubbed away the sleep one last time. After a few moments, he opened them and turned to look at the morning outside. “She knows I won’t do anything, like that, to her.” He nervously shifted his weight from foot to foot. “She understands…I don’t know. I guess she just thinks…” Wilson trailed off.
“You’re a brother to her?” Sharon asked. “Or maybe you think of her like Julie. So she’s a sister to you.” Sharon rose and grabbed the bag of meat from the counter. “Did you treat your sister like crap most the time back home?” Wilson’s head snapped around at Sharon. “I’m just wondering. Eight years with you and some of it still doesn’t make sense.”
Wilson returned to his chair and stared at the ceiling. “We gotta be tough out here. No room for weakness. This life ain’t easy. Never has been and it seems like it gets tougher every day. People are meaner; they sure treat us like crap wherever we go.”
He let his gaze come down from the ceiling to his folded hands on the table. “She’s a good girl. Just kinda goofy sometimes. I just can’t keep my mouth shut when she gets like that.” He looked at Sharon, finally. “You know, all sorts of prayers, almost preachy. No room for that out here.”
Sharon returned to the table. “Have you given much thought about getting off the road?” Wilson rolled his eyes and looked away. “You said it yourself; it’s getting tougher out here. I mean, we settle down every winter and stay in one place. Some are better than others. But we stay there. We don’t wander out until our food is almost gone. Maybe this Ashland that everyone keeps talking about is a place where we can settle down. Stay for a while. Not just a winter, maybe a couple years. I think Judy’s about done with the road life. I’m plenty sick of it.” She gazed into his brown eyes. “Thoughts?”
