“Listen, that’s swell, truly. But it’s complicated for me. I just…I’m supposed to sleep on all this tonight. So can I do that, please?”
“Sure.” She stands on the tips of her toes and kisses me on the cheek with velvet lips; the smell of vanilla fills my nostrils. “Sleep on it.” Her breath tickles my ear, sending shivers up my spine.
As soon as I’m outside, I begin wiping my cheek furiously. Katia will cut me into tiny pieces if I come back with lipstick on my face.
15
This little settlement is many things, but friendly is not one of them.
Indifferent, perhaps?
I get a few nods and grumbled greetings as I make my way back towards the guest house, but it’s mostly downturned eyes and folks crossing to the other side of the street to avoid me.
Whatever.
I don’t plan on being here a day longer than I have to.
If it was just me, if I was just some loner barely scraping by, Ronald would have had me at Woody Allen. But I’m not a loner. I’ve got folks depending on me. To hell with what Ronald thinks. I love Katia.
Maybe it’s reckless.
Maybe it’s not in the best interest of the common good.
Maybe I’m old enough to know better.
…maybe I’m too damn young to care.
As I round the next corner, I’m met by a man sporting receding blond hair, round spectacles, and a dark blue shirt with distressed blue jeans. He appears nervous; looking over his shoulder, then at me, then back over his shoulder.
“You leaving?” It’s almost a mumble and it takes me a few seconds to put the question together.
“What are you asking me?”
“Are you leaving?” This time, he hisses the question and his cheeks flush red.
“What the hell is your problem, man?” I step back. This fella is antsy as all hell. I’m not sure if he’s just crazy or just looking for a fight; maybe both.
“You need to leave while you can.”
“Dude, just move. I’m not looking for trouble with you.”
“I can’t fix what they’ll do! I can’t fix it!” His hands come up as if to grab me.
My fists come up.
Daniel jumps between us, the back of his bald head blocking my view. “Percy, are you bothering our guests?”
“I…was…checking….just ch-checking.”
“I’m sure you’ve got other business to attend to, so why don’t you move along. Don’t talk to anyone unless you’ve got reason.” Daniel pulls Percy by the arm, escorting him around me, before sending him on his way with a shove to the back.
“Who’s the nutcase?”
“Doctor,” Daniel’s voice is a deep, creaking sound.
“Well, thanks for the help, I guess.”
“What’d he say to you?” Daniel has his hands on his hips, his broad chest stressing the fabric of his dark shirt.
“He was just getting in my face and babbling nonsense.”
“What sort of nonsense?” The unbuttoned pistol on his thigh lends a sinister undertone to his question.
“I don’t remember, really.”
“Sure you do.”
“No, I’m telling you I don’t, it was gibberish.” I’m emboldened by the knowledge of my own pistol, sitting snuggly in the waistband of my jeans against the small of my back.
“You hiding something?”
“What’s with the third degree?”
He steps forward.
I step back.
It’s not cowardice. I’m just not stupid. He seems like he knows how to handle himself. He’s confident. Capable. It’s all in the way he squares his shoulders up when he’s speaking. It’s in the way he never quite makes direct eye contact, observing every part of my body, evaluating every movement and shifting his body accordingly. Judging by the scar on his face and his disfigured knuckles, he’s been in his fair share of scrapes. The smart man knows when he’s outmatched and he readjusts his sails to suit the winds.
“I’ll be keeping an eye on you, boy.” His top lip twitches.
“Whatever gets you off.” This time, he doesn’t move as I back away. I get about a hundred feet before I feel comfortable enough to turn my back.
A couple minutes later, the house comes into view. I can hear Katia, but I can’t see her. She’s grunting and hitting something that can’t hit back. I find her in the backyard dancing around a tree. She pivots to the left and sinks her blade into the trunk. Her forehead is pouring sweat; knowing her, she’s been at this for hours. She gives me a cursory glance as she struggles to remove the blade from the tree.
“What are you up to?” I move across the grassy expanse with my hands wedged in my pockets.
“Practicing.” She finally jerks the sword free, almost falling in the process.
“You know, some people say that trees have feelings.”
“You serious right now?”
“Maybe.”
“I imagine those people are probably dead.”
“What do you think did them in?”
“Blinding stupidity.” She whacks the tree so hard I’m surprised her arms don’t fall off.
“Isn’t that bad for the edge?”
“Yep,” she swings and takes a slice of bark off, “but it’s not like I’ve got a whole lot of options. I need to kick the rust off, just in case.”
“In case of what?”
“Don’t ask stupid questions. It doesn’t suit you.” She swings high, twirls around on one leg, and goes low. She stops and sees me still standing there, waiting for an answer. “In case life happens, Tim. That’s why I’m practicing. It’s got nothing to do with these people, or anyone else. I’m just staying ready. Judging by my watch, it’s about time for the shit to hit the fan.”
“You always were the optimist.”
“Uh-huh,” she sticks the tip of the sword in the ground and leans across the handle, “so what did the Great and Powerful Oz want?”
I take a seat against the mutilated tree, patting the ground and inviting Katia to join me. She obliges. She sits close, her hip touching mine. She extends her legs out straight and crosses them at the ankles.
“Ronald had a proposal for me.”
“You two seemed pretty chummy during the movie, but I never imagined it was like that. Did you say yes? Can I see the ring?”
“Ha-ha, you’re a riot.”
“So what was it?”
My silence spooks her a little.
“Tim, what was it? Tell me!”
“He was just making me an offer, that’s all; asking me to stay.”
“What do you mean an offer?”
“An offer. You know. He was asking me to stay. Was saying all this stuff about how I could be a leader here.”
“And what about me? Why wasn’t I invited to this little meeting?”
“He, uh…well—”
“Spit it out! What the fuck did he say about me?”
The back door slides opens, and Sonny walks out carrying a pie in one hand and a fork in the other. “Guys, you’ve gotta try this pum—”
“Fuck off, Sonny!” Katia snaps.
“We’ll be right there, buddy,” I say, trying my best to take the sting out of Katia’s rebuke.
Sonny looks shell-shocked and shuffles backwards through the door.
“Was that really necessary?”
“Tell me what he said, Tim!” She has this magical way of making my name sound like an insult.
“He doesn’t think you’re good for me.”
“Really?”
“He thinks you’ve let this situation define you, rather than you defining it.”
“What does that even mean?”
“You asked what he said and I’m just telling you.”
She’s cracking her knuckles, one-by-one, mentally grinding each word I’ve said into a fine powder, extracting every possible hidden meaning. “Forget it! I’ll go ask him myself.”
I grab her arm and pull her back down b
eside me. “Hold it, cowgirl. You’re getting way ahead of yourself.”
“Let go of me!” She retracts like a snake ready to strike. “I want him to say it to my face!”
“It doesn’t matter! What he says, what he thinks, it doesn’t matter!”
“So you said no?” She relaxes a little.
“Pretty much. He wouldn’t let me get my answer out, insisted that I wait until tomorrow, but I’ve got every intention of telling him to get stuffed.”
Her chin trembles and her eyes begin to sparkle. “Don’t you agree with him, a little? He’s right. You could have a place here. You could have a life. You’re just going to end up resenting me.”
“No…never.”
She tries to hide her face from me, turning her chin over to one shoulder as she starts to sob. I take her in my arms and she holds onto me like we’re saying our last goodbyes. “You promised me, Tim. You promised you’d see this through with me to the end.” She’s sucking big breaths, trying to regain control of her emotions.
“I know I did. There’s nothing I’d rather do than stand by your side. Calm down. It’s fine. In a few days, we’re going to be in Washington and this is going to be behind us. Try to keep it in perspective.”
She nods, her chin bouncing against my collarbone.
Minutes pass.
She stops shuddering and her sniffling subsides.“I hate this.” She slips back from my embrace, wiping excess tears and leftover snot from her face. Her eyes are bloodshot and puffy.
“Hate what?”
“The way you have so much control over my emotions.”
“I’m not exactly a fortress when it comes to you either.”
“Oh, I know. You’re kind of my bitch.”
“Your bitch?”
Laughter crackles in her throat. “That’s right.”
“I guess there are worse things in life I could be.” I kiss her.
“Careful, I’m gross; I’ll get snot on you.”
“It’s okay, I love you anyway. Now, let’s go apologize to Sonny.”
“Do I have to?”
“You sort of ripped him a new asshole…again.”
“Fine…I’ll do it.”
“Plus, I want some of that pie.”
16
After Katia apologized, Sonny gave her a big hug and tossed her a fork; we tore through that pie in a matter of minutes.
Later that night, we gather around the kitchen table to share a dinner of frozen, microwave meals; Sonny gets turkey and gravy, Katia gets sliders, and I get the chopped steak. For a while, we munch away in silence, shoveling the food into our faces with plastic forks and a smile. It doesn’t take me long to polish off my meal. I wash the last bite down with a swig of sweet tea and then sit back and watch as Katia and Sonny poke through their food.
“I feel like I should make a toast.” I’m turning my glass of tea, leaving fingerprints across the frosted surface.
“To what?” Katia asks, wiping her mouth.
“It does seem like a toast-worthy moment.” There’s a limp piece of meat hanging from Sonny’s fork.
“Hmm,” I lift my glass, “to friends…maybe?”
Katia and Sonny exchange glances and then lift their glasses.
“To friends.”
“To friends.”
The clinking of our glasses isn’t nearly as crisp as I’d imagined, but it feels good, acknowledging the bond that’s developed between the three of us these past few days.
“You know, I think I trust y’all more than I ever trusted anybody when the world was normal,” Sonny says.
“Aw! I don’t know if that’s pathetic or if I should be flattered.” Katia gives him a good-natured smile over the top of her glass.
“Probably a bit of both.” Sonny scoops up the last bits of gravy. “I had to ride DART a lot when I first moved to Dallas. It was convenient, but it took you through some shady areas. I always had my iPod going, but when the train got crowded, I would be afraid to take it out of my pocket because I thought someone would snatch it. I was always paranoid like that; checking the locks on my doors over and over, keeping my wallet in the front pocket of my jeans, just afraid that people were out to get me. But here I am, living during the lowest time in human history, when everyone should be out for themselves, looking to screw each other over, and I’ve somehow managed to find two people I’d trust with my life.”
I slurp down the last of my tea. “It’s strange how that works, isn’t it? When you’re expecting to see the worst in folks, somehow the best pops out.”
Katia grabs my hand under the table, intertwining her fingers with mine. “I’m not really one for the corny speeches and shit. But you guys know I’ve got your back. Even though I can be a bit of a bitch sometimes, I hope you know it’s all love.” She wrinkles her nose at Sonny.
“Well, I appreciate it. I’ve got your six too. And yours, Tim.”
“Hey, I’m with y’all to the end.”
We remain gathered around the table, laughing and talking late into the night.
17
The air is thin and crisp as I exit the house and start towards Ronald’s to deliver the bad news. As I pass the narrow entrance to Próta, I notice the bus is pulled up out front and Guy and his crew are loading up supplies. They’re all decked out in their Sunday best.
“Heading out on another rescue mission?” I ask, leaning against the front gate.
“Just a patrol, but we always manage to get into something. Where are you off to so early?” Guy hands a duffel bag full of shotguns and rifles off to one of his squad-mates.
“Meeting with the big guy.”
“I heard about that.”
“Who hasn’t?”
“Don’t let it rub you the wrong way. It’s hard to keep a secret around here.”
“Pros and cons of communal living, I suppose.”
“Yeah, but if you ask me, there are a lot more checks in the pro column.” He seems eager to get out on the road. “I don’t know what Ronald wants with you. Just remember, Daddy Trask knows best.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Tim!” Lydia is hanging out of the bus, waving excitedly.
“I think she wants a word with you.” Guy slaps me on the arm.
Lydia jogs towards me, blonde locks flowing behind her like bicycle streamers. “It’s so good to see you.” She grabs my hands.
I pull away.
Undeterred, she grabs them again. “You slept on it?”
“I did, yeah.”
“And you’re going to give my dad the good news, right?”
“I, well, I’m—”
“Tim, we’re going to be so good together.” She squeals a little and laces her fingers through mine, just like Katia. Except she doesn’t feel like Katia; her hands are too cold, too bony, too rough. She’s not Katia, not even close. “Look how good we fit. It’s like we were made for each other.”
“Listen, I nee—”
She presses a finger to my lips. “Hush. Not now. It’s going to be perfect.”
“Lydia, get your butt in here, kiss your boyfriend later!” Guy yells through an open window. Everyone onboard the bus is watching us.
“Gotta go.” She looks like she’s going for my lips. I turn my cheek to her instead. She plants her kiss and skips away. “See you tonight, Tim!”
***
Ronald’s guards pat me down and take my handgun before letting me into the house. The stairs groan beneath my feet as I ascend. The adrenaline bubbles in my belly. I pause at the top of the stairs, trying to get the words straight in my head.
No stuttering. No backing down. Say what you’ve gotta say and leave it at that. Have some balls.
One of the guards is holding the office door open for me as I approach. “Go in, Mr. Trask is expecting you.”
Ronald is sitting behind his desk as I enter the room. He’s got a book open and is scanning the pages with an index finger, lips fluttering. He looks up and removes his g
lasses as the door slams home at my back.
“Tim, my boy, come in and take a seat.”
“I think I’ll just stand, if that’s okay by you.”
Ronald stands, refusing to be upstaged. “Not sure I like the tone you’re taking.”
“Sir, this isn’t easy to say, so I’m just going to—”
He holds up one hand, leaving the other on his hip. “Hang on, before you go any further. You’re sure you’ve thought this through? I mean, really thought this through?”
“I’ve chewed it over until my jaw is sore. Regrettably, my answer has to be no.”
“That’s unfortunate, Tim. I’ve got to say, I was really hoping you’d come in here with good news.” His steps boom against the floor, they are spaced out and deliberate, guiding him towards the window. He stands there, grim-faced, looking out over his minor kingdom. “But you’re a strong-willed man. When a strong-willed man has his mind set, it’s nearly impossible to get him to change course. I know this because I too am a strong-willed man. To move him, you must use force…he must be compelled.”
“I’m sorry, sir. But I’m afraid there is no compelling me. This is my final answer, and I’d ask that you respect that.”
“Respect?”
“I’m asking you to respect my answer, if nothing else.”
“This is what you do, isn’t it?”
“Excuse me?”
“You take. You leech.You use. We bring you in, we feed you, we put a roof over your head, and you just want to scurry away, a rat with the cheese.”
“We were up front with you. We told you our intentions. There’s been no attempt to scurry away with anything. I don’t know what your problem is, but I think this conversation is just about finished.”
“My problem, Tim, is with people like you. People that think everything in life is free. That’s part of what got us here in the first place; a lack of personal responsibility, everyone out for themselves, politicians covering their asses, no matter the cost. Not here, not while I’m in charge, no sir. I made you a generous offer. If you want to slap it away, that’s fine.”
“Good, glad to hear it. I’ll be on my way.” No need in carrying this on. We’ve still got a few more days in this loony-bin. I don’t want to ruffle feathers that don’t need ruffling.
The Rabid: Fall Page 11
