Thistle and Twigg

by Mary Saums

  Before I could say a word, Cal’s thoughts took another sharp turn, one I’d never have expected. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, I’ve been thinking real hard about you a’wanting my land.”

  All my tiredness suddenly fell away. I said nothing in hopes his train of thought would continue in the direction I hoped it would go, rather than meander as it had done thus far.

  “The truth is, Old Doc Rose says I ain’t got much longer.” He tapped his chest, indicating his lungs, I assumed. “Hell, I’m eighty-two and I’ve been smoking since I was eight. It’s a wonder I’ve lasted this long.” He coughed and leaned forward in the chair, raising his bloodshot eyes, old and despondent, to mine.

  “What I have for you is a proposition,” he said. “That is, if you’re still interested in buying.”

  I didn’t want to sound too eager, so I merely inclined my head toward him and said, “What sort of proposition?”

  “Let me ask you something first. Why do you want it? You’ve got a mighty nice piece of property now yourself. And it’s just you living here, right?”

  “Yes. Just me.” He nodded and waited for me to continue. “I want it for peace, I imagine.” I told him about the military bases, and for the first time, I told someone my true feelings about our moves, how out of place I’d always felt. “Here, I don’t feel isolated, rather protected somehow. I suppose you understand what I mean?”

  He nodded again. A sly smile stretched across his face as he rocked. “Oh, yes. Yes, I do. That’s something I understand well.” We sat in companionable silence for a while before Cal took a deep breath and got to the true reason for this porch visit, the previous one, and the short tour that morning on his property.

  “I’d like to sell you my land,” he said, the words purposeful and with a forced quality, as if he had reached an unsavory but necessary decision and now must follow through no matter how painful. “With a few conditions. First, it’s an all or nothing deal. I want you to buy all of it. Every last blade of grass. Second, I want to keep my house and live there, with free rein over my land, until I die. Are you agreeable so far?”

  I nodded again. “Yes. Go on.”

  “Because that’s not all,” he said, his speech and the direct look in his eyes making him appear suddenly sober. “The third condition is the most important one.”

  His black eyes bore into mine as he paused. A tremble came into his voice. “You have to make me a solemn promise, so help you God. For as long as you live after I’m gone, you must not sell any part of it for any reason. Every square inch must stay as it is. No developers. No bulldozers. No changes. Period.” He paused. “And number four is the toughest one. You’ve got to pass it on to somebody else, somebody like us, who won’t change it or hurt it in any way.”

  Silence stretched between us as we considered that difficulty “You’re smart, Jane. I trust you can find a way. You have to.”

  I took a sip of tea and looked away. Still doing my best not to sound too anxious, I said, “Well. I must say I’m surprised. You seemed dead set against selling it at our first encounter.”

  He nodded slowly. “Things have changed. I thought it was all taken care of. Someone …” He shook his head. “I realize I’ve got to let go of it now or else it will all be lost.”

  “I’m not sure I can afford it. You didn’t mention your asking price.”

  The figure he gave was so reasonable, it shocked me. In fact, it was so low I couldn’t believe it. It was well within my price range, thanks not only to many years of frugal living and my dear husband’s wise investments, but also due to money of my own I’d saved from freelance work done during our world travels.

  “Here is the thing,” Cal said, his voice shaking. “It’s special. It has never been sullied by the white man’s ways. Better preserved than the refuge. I’ve spent my life taking care of it the best I can, just like my granddaddy and his granddaddy before him. And a long time before that. It’s pure. I can’t let that die with me.”

  He released his intense gaze but sat forward, still and waiting. He sighed. “I can’t explain it all tonight. It’s too much. You just need to trust me that it must be preserved as it is.”

  The loud sawing of crickets filled the night, and in that moment I felt a deep contentment, being here, having found the quiet place I’d always wanted. Here was a rare man, one after my own heart.

  “Let me be direct, Cal. I want the property and I agree to all your terms. I see no point in playing games, do you?”

  A slow smile spread across Cal’s face as he put his hand out. “I like you, Jane. It’s a deal,” he said, shaking my hand. “I appreciate you helping me out this way.” His face held such relief, I nearly cried. I could see the truth in his doctor’s prognosis. He didn’t have much longer.

  “I believe it is mutually beneficial. I give you my word to adhere to your conditions just as you wish. I swear it.”

  The glow of his face told me what I suspected. He didn’t care about the money, only that his land be kept intact and in its naturally beautiful state. Having agreed, he nodded and stood, much less burdened than when he arrived.

  “It’s late,” he said. “I think I’ll head on to the house. I’m glad, real glad, things are worked out. Now there’s lots of important stuff I need to show you and tell you about, but we’ll have plenty of time for all that later on.”

  That sounded intriguing, but I let him enjoy his secrets for the moment and didn’t ask for details. “So, you still don’t mind if I take my morning walk tomorrow over the property?” I asked. “And bring my friend to shoot? Because if you’d rather I didn’t…”

  “Not a bit. Y’all come on. Me and Homer are going out of town real early. Got some business in Florence.”

  “And we wouldn’t be disturbing anyone else?”

  “Nobody out this way to disturb. Just me and you out this far.”

  “Yes, of course. That’s something to get used to.”

  He rose, thanked me again for the tea, and stepped carefully off the porch. “There’s trails all over,” he said with a wave toward his land. “Just take the main road and you’ll see them. Stay on the trails, don’t wander off.” He turned from the bottom step with one finger raised in the air. “One more thing. I’ll need cash. Please, ma’am. If you don’t mind.”

  Cash? “I’ll certainly ask the banker. I’m sure it can be done.”

  He smiled, waved again, and ambled down the road.

  How odd. Perhaps he only wanted the security of cash in hand. Many older people did. Did he have a checking account? Whatever the case, with his doctors’ bills, he surely would need money I could understand but still felt a bit curious, not only about that, but because I knew his land was worth much more. With no family left, he must have calculated only what he would need and saw no point in asking for more.

  My knees creaked as I rose and picked up the tray of our cups and plates. With one more glance over what might soon be mine, I closed the screen door. I could still see Cal and Homer in the road, both walking slowly. The security light threw a long shadow in front of him. He passed out of the light’s circle and into the darkness as he turned onto his private road.

  It certainly was a strange turnabout in Cal’s behavior. For the second time, I wondered if he was sincere or, as Phoebe might say, was he up to something sneaky? It was a fleeting thought this time, however, for Cal’s motives were clear. He only wanted to preserve his land and pay his remaining bills before he passed away.

  Once inside for the night, I called Phoebe. She sounded so happy to hear from me. I asked if she’d like to walk together in the morning and didn’t mention the shooting range. It would be a nice little surprise for her. We agreed she would come at eight o’clock. I walked through the house, shutting off lights on my way to bed.

  I had only been asleep a short while when a loud noise jarred me fully awake. It sounded like a shot. Sitting up in bed, I turned to look at the clock. I’d been asleep longer than I thought. The
clock read 1:49. Just as it changed to 1:50, another shot rang out in the still night.

  I couldn’t say which direction the sounds had come from, only that they sounded far away. I imagined Cal in trouble at first, but dismissed the thought, imagining it more likely he and Homer were running an animal intruder away from their house. I realized my knowledge of the area was too limited to assume the shots, or whatever the sounds were, had come from Cal’s property rather than some other nearby tract. However, the refuge edged all but a slim parcel of land behind my own, a section I had yet to explore.

  Next morning, I rose again with the dawn. The morning walk was made even more beautiful with the thought of soon having an even better, larger barrier against the world.

  After the walk and my Tai Chi exercises, I put some biscuits in the oven. While they baked, I sat on a pillow for a few minutes of meditation. I began to think of all the things I might do and find here. So many pictures continued to swirl in my mind, such as all the new plants and birds to discover, the memory of the boulder entrance to the ceremonial hall yet to explore, Cal’s moving story of Charlie and Little Wren, all stirred my emotions.

  What began as a dream, one I carried for so many years, had come true. I laughed out loud at my good fortune and let tears of joy roll down my cheeks, lost in feelings of peace, quiet, and wonderful solitude. No, I would never feel lonely, not here with so much life surrounding me.

  A loud banging on my door brought me abruptly out of my reverie. I was so startled, I jumped straight away to the door and flung it open.

  eight

  Phoebe Drops In

  Ijust barely tapped real light on Jane’s front door. For a minute, I worried I’d got there too early, but when I saw she’d been crying and how happy she was to see me, I knew I’d done the right thing. I was just glad to be there when she needed somebody, all lonesome and depressed and by herself in that big old scary house out in the sticks.

  I was so glad she called me the night before to see if I wanted to go walking with her the next morning. That day, I’d baked and run around visiting the hospital and nursing home all day until I was wore out. I was sitting there, stretched out on the couch with a bowl of popcorn watching Missing in Action 2: The Beginning for about the hundredth time, and didn’t have a thing planned for the following day, which was unusual for me. I could hardly wait for morning.

  I followed Jane inside to her kitchen where I could smell something good cooking in the oven. She popped off the lid of my plastic cake holder I’d brought. It wouldn’t do to visit and not show up with a present. I brought a coffee cake, one of a half dozen I’d baked for the freezer and for times such as this. Jane took a knife out of a drawer.

  “This looks delicious,” she said. “I’ve made biscuits, but I think I’ll wrap them up for Cal Prewitt, my neighbor, when we go over. He said we could take our walk across his property this morning.”

  If my jaw hadn’t been hinged tight onto my face, it would’ve hit the floor and broke in a million pieces.

  “What is it, dear?” she said. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “Cal Prewitt? Crazy Cal Prewitt said that? You actually saw him? I can’t believe that ornery old coot would let us or anybody else go over there.”

  “I assure you he said we could.” Jane hesitated, like she was about to say more. Instead, she kind of hem-hawed then started drinking her coffee.

  “Well, it’s a wonder,” I said. “Cal has been known on more than one occasion to shoot at trespassers. He’s the ‘Shoot first, call the funeral home later’ type. People around here take his no trespassing signs seriously. I’m not sure it’s a good idea to walk on his property.”

  “He was very kind to me,” she said. “He told me to make myself at home.”

  “Are we talking about the same person here? Tall, scrawny, not too much going on upstairs? Cal is also known for being drunk near one hundred percent of the time, you do know that, don’t you? You don’t reckon he’d been drinking when you saw him?”

  She hesitated again. “He seemed fine.”

  When I looked at her like I thought it highly unlikely, she added, “But I believe I did smell a hint of liquor.”

  “Hmmm. He might not have known what he was saying.”

  “He said he had business to attend to very early and would be gone, that we should be most welcome.”

  That sure didn’t sound like the Cal I’d heard about but I believed her. I decided I shouldn’t alarm Jane anymore. Besides, how could I pass up the chance to look around the Prewitt place? Hardly a soul in town has ever seen anything except from the road.

  I threw my hands up. “If that’s what he said, then I’m all for it. I’m ready whenever you are.”

  “First,” Jane said as she rinsed her plate in the sink, “you must pick out a gun.”

  I slapped my coffee cup down on the table. My eyes must’ve been bugged out a mile. Jane was smiling at me. “What, are you teasing me?”

  She laughed a little tinkling laugh. “No, dear. I’m quite serious. Cal has a practicing range. I thought you’d enjoy trying your hand at a little target practice since you expressed an interest in guns.”

  “That is so thoughtful of you! Hey, we may very well need guns if we go on Cal’s place. They say there are bobcats and coyotes in there, you know. No telling what else.”

  “Bobcats?” Jane said. Her voice rose and cracked a little. “Oh, dear. I had no idea. That is, I’d read a small number were in the area west of here, but hadn’t thought of them being so … close.”

  “Well, sure. There’s some of everything in there, I imagine, since nobody human is ever allowed to go in. I can’t believe I’m getting to walk on Cal Prewitt’s own personal property. I’m like the only one in fifty years, I bet you. Maybe one or two exceptions, but that’s it. It’s a miracle. Plus I get to shoot a gunl What did you mean I need to pick one out? You have more than one?”

  “A few,” she said. “Come with me.”

  A few, she said. Ha. I couldn’t hardly believe my eyes. They nearly popped out of their sockets when she opened up what I thought was a nice, normal antique chifferobe she’d set in her den.

  Instead of clothes hanging up inside, she had a row of rifles lined up and stuffed in there like she was expecting Armageddon. I’m talking about big guns and lots of them. She took the little ring of keys she’d used to open the cabinet out of its door, flipped around and found another key, and unlocked the two drawers inside. I remember my grandmother on my mother’s side had used her old chifferobe’s drawers to store gloves and handkerchiefs. Jane used hers for spare gun parts and cleaning kits. Grandma’s always had a faint scent of rose petals. Jane’s smelled like gun oil.

  “Now, mind you,” Jane said, “I didn’t actually buy these myself. They were the Colonel’s. It was his hobby, really, scouting out bargains and trying all the different models. He was a bit of a packrat when it came to firearms, I must say.”

  She studied the guns for a second, then took one of the little keys on her ring and unlocked a padlock. With the lock in one hand, she pulled a chain through the trigger holes of the rifles. She grabbed the rifle she wanted and leaned it against the wall. After rechaining and relocking everything, she said, “Right. Now, let’s see about a handgun for you.”

  “There’s more?”

  She walked around the hearth of her fireplace to the back wall of the house. One half of the wall had moving boxes she hadn’t unpacked yet stacked against it. Jane had already cleared out the other half, closer to the fireplace, and placed furniture along that part of the wall. An old-timey cedar chest sat next to an antique trunk covered with leather straps that you could tell was old by the funny-looking lock.

  Jane unlocked the trunk and let the humpback top rest against the wall. I moved around to Jane’s right side so I could see better. Down in the trunk were stacks of square black boxes, or cases, I guess they were, some wooden, some made out of molded plastic. Also down in there, I could see pieces
of velvet and felt, all different colors, that looked like they were wrapped around bundles. Of what, I couldn’t tell.

  I let out a whistle as she carefully unwrapped dark blue velvet from around a pistol. “Jane, honey don’t tell me them’s all guns down in there.”

  “I’m afraid they are, dear. More of the Colonel’s fancies. Now, Phoebe, I must ask you not to tell anyone these are here. I suppose, all together, they are quite valuable. I wouldn’t want anyone to be tempted to break in, you understand?”

  “Consider me sworn to secrecy,” I said. I crossed my heart and held up my hand. “I promise.”

  “Good. I do intend to sell them. I’ve been meaning to ever since the Colonel passed away.” She sighed and fell quiet for a moment.

  I thought it was a good time to change the subject so she wouldn’t start crying again. “Now what’s this right here?” I said like I hadn’t noticed she was fixing to get sniffly. “Look at that, a trophy.” I pulled a gold cup from the side of the trunk. It had a purple ribbon curled up in it on top of a photograph. It was Jane with a bunch of old wrinkled, gray-haired white women holding onto steel walkers.

  “I taught a few classes in Florida. Those were my students in a self-defense class for the elderly.”

  “Good Granny Alive, Jane. As feeble as they look? What did you do to help them? Issue Smith and Wessons?”

  That made her laugh. “No, nothing so drastic.” Jane took one handgun out of a plastic case and unrolled another one from a black velvet rectangle. “I think we’ll try a couple of these and be on our way. Look all right to you?” she asked, holding them both out to me.

  “Sure enough,” I said and rubbed my palms together. “Yee-hah, let’s go.”

  Before we left the house, Jane reached in a plastic bag and brought out several boxes of bullets. She dropped them in the pockets of her red over-sized shirt jacket. “I stopped by Mister Wriggle’s store again yesterday afternoon when I realized we would need a good many practice bullets, much more than I bought before. I’m sure I already have some somewhere in those unpacked boxes, but where I haven’t a clue.”