Inside the stable, he unhitched the horses and found some stale hay in a corner for Sam and Lester to munch on. Mary gave them some water from the buckets. After that, Joe wondered if they should even go in the rooming house. He thought maybe they should stay in the stable instead. He worried about the three young ruffians. He still didn’t have a good feeling about them, and he thought perhaps it made more sense to stay with the wagon and the diesel. But then he considered how nice it would be for Mary to sleep in a proper bed. It didn’t seem right to deny her that luxury, especially after they already paid for it. Plus, he kind of wanted to see how she would react. He was sure it would make her happy.
“You’re going to sleep like a princess tonight,” Joe said. “After all those nights on the plains and in the forest, you’re finally going to sleep in a real bed. You won’t know what to do with yourself. You might faint with happiness. You might not ever want to leave.”
“Yes, I will,” Mary said.
“I don’t know. You might have it so good, you’ll want to stay.”
“Never.”
“Never? How do you know yet? You haven’t seen our room and the big soft bed.”
“I’ll miss Mom and Dad and Frank.”
“I know,” Joe said. “I was only teasing you.”
He thought he saw her little chin twitch as if she were grinning behind the brim of her hat.
Chapter 26
When they got in the small room, Joe flipped the switch on the wall and the light bulb hanging from the ceiling flickered on and shone with a weak light.
“That’s a light bulb,” he said.
“I know,” Mary said.
Joe assumed she’d never seen one, but apparently he was wrong. Or maybe she wanted to appear worldly and that’s why she didn’t even glance at the light bulb. She acted like she’d seen electric light a hundred times before. Well, Joe thought, if that didn’t impress her then surely she’d be impressed by the magic of television. As it turned out, he was wrong about that too.
Of all the things he was curious to see in the city, like helicrafts for one, he was most intrigued by television. Joe had heard about it from Frank, but Joe had never seen one, at least not one that worked. His excitement made the fear he felt earlier in the stable seem to vanish.
“This is a television,” he said. “I know you haven’t seen one of those. You’re going to be amazed.”
He stood in front of the dresser where a small television sat. It was framed in wood with strips of embroidered brass on the outer corners. When he turned the television on, he was disappointed at first. The picture was a blizzard of black and white dots and only static came out of the speaker. He turned the channel several times until there was finally a picture. It seemed to pop out at him.
“Aha, look at that!”
He stepped back to get a better view. A woman with bright red lipstick stared at Joe. The view panned down her black dress and then showed an exposed white leg gleaming all the way to the floor. He didn’t know what he had anticipated, but it wasn’t that. On the next channel, a longhaired man in animal skins was racing a vehicle through a desert and fighting with another vehicle racing alongside him.
“Is this wild or what?” Joe said.
When he looked at Mary she had her head down.
“You aren’t even looking.”
The images were incredible. Joe could’ve sat and watched them some more. But Mary didn’t seem to be the least bit interested. She was a strange girl. How could she not even look? Maybe she was afraid and that was why. He decided to show her the bathroom. He thought she might want to take a bath and relax. Back home, Mom often made a bath for her in the cracked porcelain tub. Frank and Dad weren’t happy about it because they said it was a waste of water, but Mom said, “That girl needs pampering, and that’s all that’s to it.” So Joe thought a bath might make her feel more at home.
The tile on the bathroom floor was chipped and cracked. Black mold ran along the seams. The inside of the toilet bowl was covered in a rusty-brown color. Next to the tiny sink was a curtain. When Joe pulled it open, it revealed a narrow tub-shower with a corroded nozzle and a rusty drain.
He reached in and turned the knobs. There was a squeak, then a rumble, and then a gurgling sound before the nozzle spit out some brown water. After that, the water began to clear and pattered in the tub with a feeble stream. He wasn’t quite sure how to make the water come out of the spigot, so he just let the shower fill the tub.
When it was finished, he said, “There you go. A warm bath for you. I’ll let you be and check on you later, okay?”
She didn’t respond.
“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”
In the room, he turned on the television again and watched a man in a gray fedora smoking a cigarette in a bar. The man watched a woman dancing on a stage until another woman in a sleek dress sat down next to him and whispered something in his ear. He had sort of a half-smirk, half-grin on his face like he was amused and skeptical at the same time. His face was clean-shaven, although his skin looked a little weathered, while his eyes had a shimmer to them. Joe liked him right away. He could’ve watched him longer, but he was curious about what was on the other channels.
When he flipped to another channel, “Terror Alert” flashed across the top of the screen. Grainy video ran of what appeared to be the north gate they had passed through that morning, only it was under attack. The attackers wore black bandanas tied around their heads with some kind of yellow emblem on the front that Joe couldn’t make out. The fighters shot rifles like Joe’s and handguns and a few even fired assault rifles. They streamed out of the woods like black ants, flowing into the clearing and onto the road. They broke into the guardhouse and freed the prisoners.
Joe thought perhaps this was another movie until a voice spoke through the speaker. It said this was the second terror attack in the last three weeks and that it had happened that morning. Thankfully, city forces had successfully repelled the assault with swift, decisive, and valiant action. The screen showed the doors of a massive gate closing. Then an Arbyter mounted with cannons blasted shells. Airplanes swooped over the top of the city walls and strafed the attackers below. There was a close-up of a dead man on the ground. On his bandana was a yellow emblem of a coiled snake with its head up, ready to strike.
Joe was stunned by what he saw because he’d seen no such attack that morning. Everything had been peaceful. It had to be something from some other time, but in the lower left-hand corner of the screen was a date and time. He flipped to the other channels to see if they had dates, too, and each one had the exact same date.
When he returned to the channel with the attack, a man now stood in front of a banner with the ubiquitous Guardian symbol. The man’s face was smooth and handsome. His slicked-back blond hair shone bright. He wore a crisp suit with a red tie. At the bottom of the screen, it read “Minister of Peace and Security.” He explained that terror could strike at anytime. “It is ruthless and unpredictable. Terrorists are heartless and savage. They are avowed enemies to peace, freedom, and security.” He went on to say, “Every citizen must remain steadfast and vigilant against agents of terror who live only to destroy what we have secured. It is therefore imperative to report any suspicious behavior to the authorities. Terror is insidious in its ability to infiltrate and mingle among lovers of peace. As always, ‘Security is Freedom.’” That was the first time Joe had heard that slogan.
Joe turned the channel after that because the warning was making him nervous. Attacks on the city were no concern of his. He was here for one thing. Once he got the money for the diesel and got safely out of the city, it could all burn down as far as he was concerned. He found a channel with a huge steam-ship plowing through the ocean. On board were lots of people in fancy clothes parading around on deck and in a huge ballroom. Joe was fascinated by the whole spectacle. The opulence was more than he could fathom.
Moments later, Joe heard a popping sound from outside the wi
ndow. He immediately thought of the diesel. He rushed to the window and threw open the curtain, but he couldn’t see anything except the top of the stable. Below the sill was a slanting roof that blocked his view. A trace of light appeared from somewhere below. It flashed, wavered, and then went out. Joe didn’t know what it was, but he wasn’t going to wait to find out. Before he left, he knocked on the bathroom door and told Mary he was going to check the horses and wagon. He tried to make his voice sound as calm as possible so she wouldn’t get worried or alarmed.
“I’ll be right back,” he said.
On the first floor he hurried back to the kitchen. At the table sat a man with a ring of whiskers around his mouth and a chubby woman with a face like a lumpy pie. When the woman looked up at Joe, he noticed a purple bruise beneath her left eye. She gave him a weak smile. The man grunted. He was gnawing on a bone and his fingers glistened with grease.
Outside in the stable, Joe turned a knob and a single light sputtered to life. No one was in there. Thank heavens. He checked the wagon and patted Lester and Sam. Everything seemed to be all right. He figured he got panicked for nothing. When he turned around, the three young ruffians from earlier were milling around the entrance to the stable. They smoked, whispered to each other, and eyed Joe and the wagon. The brims of their wool caps kept their eyes in shadows. All Joe could see were their mouths and the glowing red tips of their cigarettes. Joe tried to look busy. He fed the horses some more hay and checked their hooves, but then he didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t want to leave; yet he couldn’t stand there all night.
As he left, one of them sneered, “Dirt-eater.”
Back in the kitchen, only the man with a ring of whiskers was at the table.
“How do I keep my wagon safe?” Joe said.
“That’s not my problem.” The man looked Joe up and down, as if appraising him, and the appraisal didn’t seem good. “What do you got that needs to be safe, anyway? You hiding something?”
“No.”
“Then what’s the big deal? Nobody wants anything of yours.”
“But what about those men?”
“What men?”
“They were in the street when we got here and now they’re in the stable.”
“They’re punks. They just want to scare you.”
“But what is there to stop them?”
“What do you got that they want, anyway, kid? Why are you so worried? Do I need to report you?”
“No, sir.”
Joe realized he was making the man even more suspicious. He thanked him and walked out.
In the front room, he found the proprietor sitting in a chair with an old telephone handset to his ear. The monocle was still fastened to his eye. He seemed to be listening very intently to something on the other end, although there was no cord attached to it.
When he saw Joe, he said, “Hold on,” into the handset, and then to Joe he said, “Yes? What is it?”
“I was wondering if there was a way to lock the stable.”
“Lock it? What for?”
“Well, there are three men in it.”
“There is? Dang neighbors. I’ll shoo them out in a minute.”
“Can you lock it?”
“It doesn’t have a lock. I’ll tell those boys to go home in a minute. Don’t worry.”
But Joe did worry.
Chapter 27
When he got back to the room, Mary was lying on the bed, covered in a white sheet. Her yellow hair was wet and spread out on the pillow. It was the first time he had really gotten a good look at her without her hat on. He’d seen her face and the top of her head before, but never at the same time. Even when she removed her hat for the veritags, it didn’t really count because he wasn’t exactly looking at her.
At that moment, however, what he saw in front of him was the whole picture. He had meant to tell her about the young ruffians in the stable, but he forgot about that now. He was struck with how pretty she looked. That was something he hadn’t predicted, that all cleaned up she’d be a pretty girl. Back when he saw her face for the first time at the waterfall, it was dirty, smeared with blood, and terrified. There was nothing pretty about it.
Mary yanked the sheet over her face.
“Sorry,” Joe said.
He looked away, sort of flustered and confused all at once. Although when he turned his head to look at her again, she was peeking at him from above the sheet. She held it just below her eyes, which seemed to beam at him. He’d never seen eyes shine like that before. She must’ve been embarrassed because she ducked her head under the sheet once more.
“What do you think of that bed?” Joe asked. “I wasn’t kidding when I said it would feel great, was I?”
“I’ve never slept in a bed,” Mary replied.
She spoke through the sheet. A little pocket of fabric trembled from her breath. Joe thought for a moment about what she said. He knew she slept on the floor in Mom and Dad’s room back home, but he reckoned she must’ve had a bed at one time.
“Where’d you sleep, then?”
“On the floor.”
“Your whole life?”
“As long as I remember, I slept on the floor.”
“And where was that?” he said. “Where you slept on the floor?”
“Down south.”
“In the swamps, you mean? That far south?”
“No,” Mary said. “The plains.”
He knew it! She was from the plains, just like him.
“So you’re from the southern plains.”
“Near the swamps.”
She still had the sheet pulled over her face, and it was sort of weird to talk to her like that. Her voice made the sheet quiver. But as long as she was talking, he didn’t care.
“So what happened?”
She didn’t answer now.
“You get raided or something? Diseases get you? What happened to your mom and dad? They get killed?”
She shook her head beneath the sheet.
“No?”
She shook her head again.
“They’re not killed, you mean?”
“Stop,” she said.
It finally sunk in that she didn’t want to talk about it. He felt bad for peppering her with those questions, as if it was a game. And he wanted to cheer her up now, or at least take her mind off what he’d provoked.
“Well, now you got a big soft bed to sleep in. You can’t beat that. And when I get that money, I’m going to get you some proper things. Whatever you want. What do you think of that?”
She didn’t respond.
“Whatever you want,” he said again. “I swear.”
“I don’t want any things,” she said, still speaking through the sheet.
“You’re just saying that. Everybody wants things.”
“Not me.”
“Not even a new dress?”
She didn’t say anything at first.
“Maybe one,” she said.
“Only one? I could buy you a dozen.”
“Just one,” she said again. “A red one.”
“Red it is.”
Joe sat on the bed. He pulled his feet up on the mattress and propped the pillow up behind his back. He glanced at Mary. The sheet inched down over her forehead, then over her light yellow eyebrows, and lower still over her closed eyelids. She kept inching the sheet down, past her little nose and her pale lips, until her whole face appeared. Her wet hair seemed to shine, and her skin seemed to glow like the first snow in winter.
When he was a kid and he saw the first snow gleaming in the morning sun, he desperately wanted to touch it. The smooth powder always proved irresistible. He’d run out the door before he was clothed properly while Mom shouted for him to put on his coat and boots. But some things couldn’t wait.
As Joe stared at Mary, she opened her eyes. Her lashes fluttered before she looked up at him. He turned away, suddenly nervous, and ran his hands along his pants, although he didn’t know why. He wondered if she could see
what he was thinking and if all his feelings were transparent now. It made him feel vulnerable, and he didn’t like it. When he looked at her again, her eyes were closed, and he felt more at ease then.
Joe heard a distant explosion outside. Next door, a woman screamed and something slammed against the wall. A siren blared. Mary curled into a caterpillar. He didn’t feel so safe in the room anymore. For a moment Joe wished they were back at the waterfall, where everything seemed peaceful. He wished they could’ve stayed the night in the cave’s cocoon and pretended they didn’t have a care in the world.
He swung his legs out of bed, stood up, and walked to the dresser. He grabbed his recorder and brought it back to bed with him. Mary moved a little, but she didn’t open her eyes. She was obviously tired. He twisted the two parts of the recorder together and licked the tip. Then he blew softly into the recorder and played “Blackbird” for her.
After she went to sleep, he lay awake. But instead of thinking about the feelings he was having for Mary, he worried. He wondered if the proprietor really told those ruffians to go away. And even if he had, the stable was still unlocked. Joe was worried about someone finding the diesel. He was also worried about the man in the kitchen who was suspicious of what he had in the wagon. He worried about getting caught or turned in for a reward. And then what would happen to them? He couldn’t shut his mind off. It was irritating. He had to check the wagon again to make sure everything was okay, or else he’d never be able to fall asleep.
He got up, careful not to disturb Mary. He slipped out of the room, down the stairs, and out the back door. Even though it was only dusk, it seemed much later. All the buildings had a way of squeezing out the sky and making it seem darker. He walked to the stable. The ruffians were gone. He looked under the floorboards in the cab and was relieved to see the diesel still there. Nevertheless, he decided to spend the night in the wagon cab. He was still afraid someone was going to steal the diesel or turn them in for some kind of reward, and he couldn’t let that happen now that they’d made it this far.
Never Too Far Page 11
